Since childhood, hallowed ground had been my one foolproof protection. My only escape. That was gone now. Shani’s manifestation had punched a hole in my illusion of a safe haven, and now, without Papa’s rules, without a sanctuary, I had nothing standing between me and the ghosts.
My only hope was to help her move on before she led more spirits to me. And my only clue of how to find her was the garnet ring. She had brought it from her grave and placed it in my hand, so the logical place to start my search was in Chedathy Cemetery.
But I had other business to attend to in Beaufort County before I drove out to the graveyard. Shani wasn’t the only ghost to whom I’d promised my assistance. Robert Fremont was still out there somewhere. He was keeping his distance for whatever reason, but I had no doubt he would materialize one morning on the Battery or next to my car at Oak Grove Cemetery expecting answers.
I wondered if he even knew about Tom Gerrity’s murder. Was that the reason he’d sent me to the private detective’s office? He’d felt very strongly that I should go there. Maybe he’d had a vision or a premonition. Like his memory, his prophecies seemed to come and go, but then he was dead, after all. I supposed I should cut him some slack.
My first stop was the Beaufort County Coroner’s office. I hadn’t yet figured out how to finesse my way into Garland Finch’s good graces, but I had the card from Regina Sparks in my pocket. I was fully prepared to pull it out if need be, along with a spiel about South Carolina’s open records law. But as it turned out, I needed to do nothing more than introduce myself.
“Amelia Gray,” the woman behind the front desk mused as she scratched her head with a pencil. Her beehive was a thing of beauty. I might have thought it a cutting-edge fashion statement if I didn’t have the feeling she’d worn that same style since the sixties. “I have a note about you around here somewhere.” She scavenged through the papers on her messy desk to produce a manila envelope with a pink Post-it note attached. “Ah, here we are. You’re picking up some records for Regina Sparks. Garland said to give you whatever you needed.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I perked up. This was going to be so much easier than I’d anticipated.
The woman gave me a reproachful look over her glasses. “You didn’t need to make a special trip down here, you know. I could have emailed the reports to the Charleston County Coroner’s office.”
“I had business in the area, anyway.”
“Well, here you go, then.” She handed me the envelope.
I took it reluctantly. “What’s this?”
She lifted an overplucked brow. “The reports? That is what you’re here for, isn’t it? Check and make sure everything is in there before you leave. Be a shame if something is missing after you came all this way.”
“But how did you know what I needed?”
“Garland told me.” She eyed me curiously. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I just…no.”
I opened the flap and glanced through the pages, stopping cold when I saw the names. Now I understood. Regina had assumed the friend I’d referred to was Devlin. The autopsy reports she’d requested were for Shani and Mariama.
“There seems to be one missing,” I said. “Didn’t Regina also request the report of a man named Robert Fremont?” I held my breath, hoping I hadn’t set off an alarm for her.
“Garland didn’t mention him, but I guess it could have slipped his mind. He’s no spring chicken, although he’s not about to admit it.” She tapped a few keys on her computer. “Robert Fremont, you say? Why do I know that name?”
“He was a Charleston cop who was killed down here a couple of years ago.”
“I don’t remember the particulars, but that name sure rings a bell. Has something new turned up on his case?”
“I don’t know. Regina didn’t discuss it with me. I’m just supposed to collect the postmortems.”
She studied the computer screen. “You may as well take a seat. We’re slow as molasses today. Now, is that F-r-e-e-m-o-n-t?”
“One e.”
“All right, hold your horses.”
I was afraid she would have to check with the coroner before she released the records or, worse, verify with Regina. But instead, I heard the whir of a printer, and a moment later, she handed me a single sheet of paper.
“This is just the summary,” she said. “If Regina wants the full report, she’ll have to submit a formal request. But she knows that.”
“I’m sure this will be fine,” I said, as I stuffed the page in with the others. “Thanks again for your help.”
“No problem. Y’all take care.”
I hurried out of the building and climbed into my car before anyone had a chance to stop me. Pulling out the reports, I scanned all three, then read back through them more carefully. Something niggled but I didn’t know why. Everything seemed to be in order. Nothing leaped out at me, so I put them back in the envelope and set it aside for the time being.
Chedathy Cemetery—and Shani’s ghost—waited for me.
On my way to the cemetery, I stopped at the bridge where Mariama’s car had gone over the guardrail. I’d been there once before when Shani had first appeared in my garden because I thought I might find answers in the place where she’d drawn her last breath. Back then the heart on my window and the garnet ring had been our only communication. Now I knew that she wanted me to come find her and I dreaded what that might entail.
I had no idea why I’d come back to the bridge, but the compulsion had been too strong to resist. Something or someone was trying to direct my actions, be it my instincts, the universe or my spirit guide. These impulses didn’t happen out of the blue, and according to Clementine, I needed to pay particular attention to whatever meaningful coincidences might be headed my way.
Parking on the side of the road, I got out and walked up the incline to stand at the railing, gazing down at the water. It was a still day and the sun warmed my face. I could smell brine from the marshes and pine from the forest. The leaves of the hardwoods had already turned, painting the landscape in brilliant shades of russet, crimson and gold.
It was very peaceful here. I’d noticed that on my previous trip. I wouldn’t have been surprised to sense some disturbance remaining from the accident. If a house could harbor the emotions of previous residents, then surely a place could capture a scream.
I heard nothing.
In that quiet setting, I thought of my conversation with Isabel. Devlin had remained with Mariama because he’d been afraid for Shani. It must have been a horrible situation, one I could hardly imagine.
With his money and clout, he could have taken Mariama to court and sued for full custody. And if granted, he could have taken every precaution, installed the best security system, hired a full-time guard. But nothing would have kept Mariama away if she’d been bent on revenge. Nothing could keep her away now.
I took out my phone to check for messages in case Devlin had tried to call, but I couldn’t get a strong enough signal to connect with my voice mail. As I stood there contemplating the water, a patrol car from the Beaufort County Sheriff’s office eased alongside me.
My first thought was those autopsy reports in the front seat of my car. The woman at the coroner’s office must have caught on to my deception. But then I remembered that, technically, autopsy reports were a matter of public record. Surely I’d done nothing to warrant an arrest.
“Everything okay here?” he asked through his open window.
“I’m just enjoying the scenery,” I tried to say casually.
“Thought you might be having car trouble.” He nodded to the phone in my hand. “You won’t get a signal out here. Have to drive up the road a piece.”