Read Krewe of Hunters 8 The Uninvited for Free Online Page B

turned to the hallway. Allison Leigh was pale as she stood
next to Adam, who watched and waited for Tyler to take the lead.
    “Allison, can you tell me exactly what happened leading up to
your discovery of Julian?” he asked her.
    She winced. “I should’ve written it down earlier, I’ve had to
repeat it so many times,” she muttered. She was hostile again, he thought.
Hostile and angry, but that was good. If she’d fallen apart, broken into tears,
she wouldn’t have been much help.
    “I didn’t run into a bloodthirsty ghost,” she told him.
    “I would’ve been surprised if you had,” Tyler said. “I’m sorry,
but you do want to catch the killer, right?”
    She stared back at him with eyes that were as clear and
beautiful as a summer sky.
    “I don’t think there was a killer,” she said. “Julian could be
a clown. He was full of himself, an entertainer. He had a tendency to piss the
rest of us off with his unwillingness to accept responsibility, but he also made
us laugh and…he was a friend.” She took a deep breath. “It looked as if he sat
down, started fooling around with the musket and set his head right on the
blade. Yes, we use real muskets and bayonets, and never, ever, have we had a
problem. The costumed interpreters don’t carry bullets or gunpowder and no one’s
ever gone crazy and tried to bayonet a tourist. Who’d imagine that anyone could
die on one?”
    “He wasn’t in any way suicidal?” Tyler asked.
    “Julian? He was convinced the world was waiting for him,” she
said. “No, I don’t believe he committed suicide.” She hesitated for a moment.
“We were all angry with him, figuring he’d had some kind of great offer and
decided just to disappear.”
    “He was supposed to be working—and he wasn’t?”
    “Yes. Well, he showed up for the morning tours. He took off
after lunch, probably for an audition.”
    “But you found him in his period costume?”
    She nodded. “He was with a bar band that had higher
aspirations. They did a lot of auditioning and sometimes they had permits to
play in the historic areas, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to stay in his work
clothing.”
    “But none of you saw him after lunch?”
    She shook her head.
    “Are there places in the house where he could’ve been and you wouldn’t see him?” Tyler asked.
    She glanced at him. “A closet?” There was a hint of sarcasm in
her voice. “Or,” she said, her tone serious, “the attic. We don’t go up to the
attic with any of the tour groups.”
    “May I see it now?”
    “If you want.”
    “Shall we?” Adam suggested.
    Allison seemed to go back into tour-guide mode as she led the
way. She pointed out the ladies’ parlor, the music room and, across the entry,
the dining room and parlor. As they walked up the first flight of stairs she
talked about the owners of the house and the bedrooms used by the family—and by
the British invaders.
    Tyler paused at Lucy Tarleton’s bedroom; from the doorway he’d
noticed another painting of Beast Bradley.
    It was different from the one in the study. The light of
cruelty wasn’t apparent in the eyes. He’d been depicted in a more thoughtful
mood, his eyes conveying wisdom and strength rather than cruelty.
    “One more floor to the attic,” Allison said. “If you’ll—”
    “I’m curious about this painting,” he interrupted.
    “It’s Beast Bradley. I don’t really know why the painting’s in
here. Bradley took over the master bedroom while he was in residence at the
house.”
    “This is a nice painting of him.”
    “I’m sure he had friends.”
    “It’s interesting that the foundation chose to keep the
painting here, since he moved into the master bedroom,” Tyler commented.
    “The house was owned by the family until it was turned into a
nonprofit institution,” Allison said. “That’s where the painting was. The board
determined to keep everything as it was, getting rid of modern additions and
buying a few authentic pieces to