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admirable but it’s still bullshit. You couldn’t have done anything. Atwood was a man who beat his wife. In my opinion, that’s one of the most despicable acts a man can commit. If he wouldn’t listen to her pleas, he certainly wouldn’t listen to you. I suggest you learn from this case and then put it behind you. That means working on the fundraiser for the boys’ future, not as some atonement for your imagined failure. You did the best you could with the hand you were dealt.”
    The rest of us sat motionless, waiting to see if the two lawyers launched into a full blown debate.
    Peterson held his breath and took a ten count. “Thank you, counselor.” He sat.
    Hewitt extended his hand as if it held an invisible olive branch. “I apologize for interrupting. Sometimes I forget every room isn’t a courtroom. Please share a little more as to how you came to Asheville.”
    Peterson looked at Cory.
    â€œPlease do, Tom. I know Sam will find it interesting.”
    He looked at me. “After law school, I went to work for another Sam. My Uncle Sam. I served four years active service in the JAG Corps. I’m in the reserves, but I can live anywhere. I chose Asheville and fortunately passed the North Carolina bar exam.”
    A military lawyer. As a chief warrant officer, I’d worked with the prosecutorial side in hundreds of investigations. Most of the JAGs were good guys, but some thought they were God’s gift to military justice.
    â€œWere you stateside?” I asked.
    â€œIn between two tours of Afghanistan.”
    â€œYou should find Asheville less dangerous.”
    Tom Peterson’s eyes narrowed as he gave me a hard look. “Clyde Atwood proved otherwise.”
    I said nothing. The quick reaction of a deputy was the only thing that had stopped Atwood from shooting me at point blank range.
    â€œAnd Clyde Atwood isn’t having the last word,” Hewitt said. “At least that’s why I’m here.”
    A murmur of approval rippled around the circle.
    â€œWhat about security?” Angela asked. “It will be dark and it sounds like we’ll have people stretched out all over Asheville.”
    â€œThey’ll be with guides,” Cory assured.
    â€œAngela’s right,” I said. “People tend to wander or trip in the dark. And buses can break down.”
    â€œExcellent points, Sam.” Shirley had a devilish gleam in her eye. “You’ll make a fine head of security planning. Does everyone agree?”
    I won my first election by a landslide.

Chapter Four
    â€œNathan, do you copy?” I released the transmit button of the handheld, two-way walkie-talkie and waited for Nathan Armitage’s response.
    â€œYes. Loud and clear. Any problems?”
    â€œI haven’t seen Molly yet. I thought she’d check in with me.” I stood under the arch of the stone bridge spanning College Street. The steep slopes on either side of the road made climbing up to the top of the bridge impossible.
    â€œWell, she didn’t check in at the base,” Nathan said. “Maybe she went straight to your site and parked above the bridge. That’s where she’s supposed to appear, right?”
    â€œNo. She’s going to walk up to me out of the woods, but it’s getting foggy up here.”
    Dusk deepened the shadows into impenetrable darkness, and clouds began dropping onto the high crest of Beaucatcher Mountain. The first busload of ghost tour patrons was scheduled to arrive in less than thirty minutes. They would disembark and gather under the bridge around the old storyteller, who was I wearing bib-overalls and a floppy, leather hat, looking like I’d just walked down from my still.
    The fundraiser promised to be a huge success. We’d scheduled the ghost tour for the second Friday night in October when leaf colors brought a spike in tourists and yet the evenings weren’t bitter cold.