“I can’t imagine they’re happy about what happened, either,” she said. “The whole park’s been crawling with press and the morbidly curious.”
Immediately to the east of the main road lay I-75. To the west, various trails wound through thick oak and pine trees. He knew there were also day-use areas and a large campground in the park. As they made their way up the main road, he noted the frown on Mandaline’s face.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked.
She nodded. “I have to,” she quietly said.
They found the driveway and she slowed even more as they bumped down the deeply rutted dirt track that wound through the trees. After several minutes, they emerged at a fence line, where a locked metal gate stood guard.
“She told me to honk.” She tapped the horn twice.
An old, two-story house stood roughly in the center of the property. Next to it sat a large construction Dumpster.
A small, older-looking barn was overshadowed by a large, brand-new travel trailer parked next to it. Two horses, which had been grazing in a fenced-off pasture, raised their heads at the sound of the horn.
A moment later, the front door opened and a man waved at them before he started down the porch and across the property toward them.
As they waited, a woman appeared in the front door. She walked to the edge of the porch, where she stood, waiting on them.
Mandaline rolled down her window as the man reached the gate. “Matt, this is Ellis Fargo. He’s…my boyfriend. I hope it’s okay that he came with me.”
Ellis inwardly smiled at how she’d announced his status. It was the first time he’d ever heard her call him that.
Matt unlocked the gate. “No problem. I suspect he insisted on coming.” Matt gave them a good-humored smile. “After what happened, I sure as hell wouldn’t blame him.”
Ellis gave him a thumbs-up and they waited while Matt opened the gate for them to drive in. He glanced behind them and watched Matt lock it behind them.
When they parked by the house, the woman walked down to greet them. Somewhere, a dog barked. It sounded like it was coming from the travel trailer, barely audible over the whirr of the trailer’s air-conditioner unit.
The woman gave Mandaline a warm hug. “Thank you for doing this,” she told Mandaline. “We really appreciate it.”
“It’s okay. Samantha Corey, this is Ellis Fargo.”
The woman looked sad, grieving every bit as deeply as Mandaline. “Please, call me Sami,” she said as she extended her hand.
He shook with her. “Ellis is fine. I…I’m sorry about your husband.”
She nodded. “Thank you. I think we all wish things had ended differently.”
The man walked up. “Matt Barry.” He stuck out his hand as well. “Thanks for coming.”
After shaking with him, Ellis adjusted the back of his shirt, which concealed the comforting weight of the holstered gun against the small of his back. In the humid heat, sweat had already begun pooling behind the holster. “No problem.”
Relief washed through Mandaline that they didn’t mind Ellis’ presence. And now faced with the house for the first time, a chill blasted through her soul, even in the oppressive heat.
She’d avoided media coverage of what happened, hadn’t seen pictures of the house’s exterior in Julie’s notes.
The outside of the house looked exactly as Julie had presented it in her dream the other night.
“Where did you want to start?” Sami asked.
She still wore her grief as thick as the sultry Florida humidity against her skin. “Are you ready to do the service, or did you want to wait and do it last?” She hoped they wanted to do the service first, because now faced with the reality, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see where Julie had died.
Sami glanced up at Matt, who protectively draped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s do it now, please. Before the afternoon rains start.”
Mandaline took a messenger bag from the SUV before locking it and putting the keys in her pocket. She wouldn’t take any chances despite not feeling the slightest bit of apprehension or fear about the place.
It might have had a history of horrors, but now, it was a place of healing grief.
They waited while Sami went to the house and returned with a plain box about the size of an urn.
She looked a little embarrassed. “I…I told them I didn’t want an urn,” she told them, the box securely wrapped by her arms. “I wanted to scatter them anyway. Is…is that horrible?”
Mandaline gave her what she hoped looked like a kind smile. “No, you did what you needed to do.”
“The cemetery is this way,” Matt pointed as he started off. “We picked up a small paver stone to use to mark the spot. I left it over by the other gate.”
They headed south through the pasture as the horses came over to follow them. A fresh lock on a shiny chain had to be opened by another key on Matt’s ring of them. He let them out, locking it behind them. The horses whinnied by the gate, one of them throwing his head up and down.
Sami turned with a sad smile. “It’s okay, boys. I’ll try to take you out later.”
Matt picked up the small paver stone and took the lead again. “They’re antsy because I’ve made her stay here and not go out riding. Fucking asshole paparazzi all over the goddamned place.” He glanced at them. “Excuse my language. I have no use for them. I’d file restraining orders against every damn last one of them if I could, but it’s public land around here. If there’s a ranger on duty, they try to call us with a heads-up. Unless they break park rules, there’s not a lot they can do to legally keep them out.”
“Ellis is a lawyer, too,” Mandaline offered, more to keep conversation going than anything.
Matt glanced back. “In town?”
Ellis nodded. “Family law, mostly.”
“Ah. I turned a law degree into being a literary agent,” Matt said as they continued walking. “Helps a lot with the contracts. I’ll get your card before you leave, if you have one with you. We’ll need a local attorney.”
They trudged along a soft, loamy dirt trail. The trail ran south along the property line, eventually curving off to the east, passing under trees until the land sloped up a small hill into a thick stand of pine trees. They entered a small clearing where a thick bed of pine needles carpeted the ground. Matt and Sami stopped at the edge of the clearing.
“Here it is,” Sami softly said.
Mandaline, followed by Ellis, slowly walked forward. She knew from pictures and sketches in Julie’s notebook that the small stone marker in the center of the clearing was George Simpson’s grave marker. Mandaline also noticed the several piles of stones scattered around the clearing.
“Those are the Spaniards’ graves?” Mandaline asked, pointing at the cairns.
Sami nodded. “Yeah. Julie had sketched the layout of the other graves. And…” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “She thought George Simpson probably murdered his wife and kids and burned the bodies here. When the family disappeared, searchers found signs of an old fire and some bone fragments.” She looked down at the box in her arms. “I think she was right.”
Mandaline walked the periphery of the clearing, but felt nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing creepy, nothing spooky.
Nothing dangerous.
Mandaline put her bag down. From inside, she pulled out the recreated drawing of the clearing Julie had with her that day. The original copy had been found in the pocket of the clothes she’d had on that day and returned with her other personal possessions.
“Do you have a specific place you’d like to put him?” Mandaline asked as she quickly oriented herself.
“No,” Sami quietly said as she stroked the box. “Wherever you think is best.”