“I didn’t look at it that closely. And after that, Delilah asked me to dig under the tree.”
“The big cypress in the front yard?”
“The Witch Tree, yeah. Not easy, I had to cut a bunch of roots to dig there. It wasn’t meant to be a—” his voice caught “—a grave. To think someone used it the way they did…”
“What was she looking for?”
“She said something about bones.”
“Bones?” Highbaugh blanched. “Whose bones?”
Mario looked uncomfortable. “This is going to sound weird, but I swear it’s true.”
“Try us,” said Harper.
“A baby, I guess? Delilah said she was being haunted, but not in a bad way. That she needed to find a baby’s bones, and bury them with Isabel Perles. And it’s weird because at first she seemed like she liked this ghost, but maybe she was sort of afraid of her at the same time? I told her that didn’t make any sense, you know?” Mario said. “She wanted me to learn more about the spirit world. So I went on that ghost tour. But you ask me, that Joel guy is full of crap.”
“Can’t say I disagree with you there,” said Harper.
“I was here today finishing up something in the mirror room, and even though it seems pointless now that she’s…gone, I felt like I should get it done. She would like me to make things whole.”
“Is it still a mess?”
“A mess?” He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The blood and chicken feathers?”
Mario and Highbaugh stared at her as though she’d lost her mind.
“It looked the same as always to me. I was patching a floorboard.”
Just then Harper saw a man half jogging, half walking toward them: Asher Mason.
“What the hell areyoudoing here?” Asher demanded, glaring at Mario. Asher’s hands were down by his sides, but his fingers were twitching like a gunslinger’s in an old Western movie.
Mario held the ax in front of his chest in a defensive stance.
“Mario was retrieving a few of his tools,” Harper intervened, hoping to calm things down. Men’s anger made her nervous, especially when potential weapons were involved. “He was just leaving, right, Mario?”
Mario nodded slowly. When he spoke, his voice was tight with sadness rather than anger. “I just had to finish up one thing, Asher. Promised your sister I would. That’s all. I’m so…I mean, I can’t…I can’t believe what happened.”
Emotions played over Asher’s face: rage and grief and doubt. A muscle worked in his jaw, and after a long moment he nodded and let out a harsh sigh.
Mario relaxed and lowered the ax to his side. “I just wanted to get my things. I’ll get out of your way now,” he said, picking up a duffel bag sitting next to a toolbox just inside the back gate.
“What’s in the bag?” Asher demanded.
“A change of clothes and my toothbrush,” Mario said impatiently. “Whether you liked it or not, I was seeing your sister, Asher. I kept these things and my tools here.”
“Show me,” Asher said, his tone threatening.
Mario hesitated, then yanked open the zipper of the duffel. Inside were a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and a black toiletries bag. “No priceless heirlooms, as you can see. Satisfied?”
With an imperious twitch of his head, Asher said, “All right. Now get out of here.”
“With pleasure.” Mario picked up his ax and the toolbox and left.
Asher sighed again and, as if he had not just been threatening someone, smiled in greeting. “Good morning, Harper, Alastair. Sorry about the unpleasantness. And for being late,” he said. “I was awake all night, finally fell asleep at dawn, then slept through my alarm. Insomnia is a terrible thing.”
