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Kendrick said, seamlessly switching back to his detective persona as if he were as willing as I for a change of subject. “First, I thought you’d be interested to know that I was able to get in touch with your friend at the state archaeologist’s office. She’s agreed to come down and take a look at the graves. She seemed particularly interested in the cages.”
    â€œI knew she would be. When is she coming?”
    â€œNot until next week, unfortunately. In the meantime, I’ve called in a forensic anthropologist from Charleston that can help with the identification of any skeletal remains we uncover. And I’d like you to come into the morgue this afternoon and take a look at the victim. If you’ve no objection.”
    â€œI’ve no objection. I’m more than willing to help in any way I can, but as I told you yesterday, I know very few people in the area. The odds that I’ll be able to make a positive identification are slim.”
    â€œI understand that. But the victim was alive for a period of time after she was buried. Which means there’s a chance she got to that clearing under her own steam. Maybe she was coerced or lured there or maybe she came of her own free will. In any case, unless she was taken there by way of the swamp, she would have likely come through or at least near the cemetery, perhaps in the company of her killer.”
    I felt a chill go through me. I hadn’t considered that possibility.
    â€œEven with so little traffic, it’s still possible you saw something and don’t remember it,” he said. “A face in a car window or someone in the woods. All I ask is that you view the remains with an open mind.”
    I nodded. “When do you want me to come in?”
    â€œLet’s say one o’clock. I’ll meet you there and walk you through it.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œNo need to thank me. I would never expect you to do this alone. Although...” His gaze swept over me, deep and fathomless. “You strike me as someone who is more than capable of taking care of herself.”
    For some reason, I didn’t think he meant it as a compliment.
    * * *
    I left the cemetery in time to stop by the house for a quick shower and change of clothes before I drove into town. The silence of the place bothered me now that I knew the grisly history, but I didn’t allow myself to dwell on the story Kendrick had told me. There would be time enough later to explore the rooms with a new eye and perhaps even take a stroll through the orchard to the shed.
    For now, I busied myself with the mundane tasks of drying my hair and refilling Angus’s water bowl on the back porch and then propping open the screen door so that he could come and go as he pleased. But I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder now and then. I couldn’t help thinking that the vibe of the house had been subtly altered by my newfound knowledge.
    I chalked it all up to imagination as I drove into town and followed Kendrick’s directions to the hospital morgue. I didn’t relish the task that lay before me. The last time I’d been near a morgue, the voices of the dead had filled my head, making me aware of another terrifying aspect of my gift. I’d later come to believe that the recently deceased had somehow opened a door, allowing the trapped and restless souls of Kroll Cemetery to make contact with me. Once the ghosts had been released, the voices had faded, though I didn’t expect the silence to last for much longer. Not after my discovery of those mortsafes.
    Kendrick waited for me at the front desk. After we signed in, an attendant showed us back to a room where the body had been placed on a stainless steel table, awaiting autopsy. He went around to the far side of the table and I stepped up to the near side. He gave a nod and the attendant peeled back the sheet that covered the body.
    I braced myself for the possibility of