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“Really?”

“Really. ”

And then the wheels began turning. “And we know, pretty much, where Andrew’s buried?”

Rudy laughed. “Well, Son, there’s ‘pretty much’ and then there’s the battlefield—which is miles and miles square. Dyer’s farm is sitting between a big open field and some woods. I went out there a few times and looked around; I wasn’t looking to dig or anything, ’cause you can’t do that out there, and I don’t figure I’d know Andrew’s body if I found it. But maybe I’d know his father’s pocket watch, and maybe I’d know the ledger. ”

“There was a ledger?”

“Yes, I told you—there was a ledger. And as far as I know, no one ever did find it. It’s not in the museum there, either. Some of the artifacts taken off the battlefield were put into that visitors’ center, but I went through that thing a dozen times and I never saw it. They might have some stuff downstairs in storage, but if they do, I don’t know how to get to it. ”

“But you thought about it. ”

Rudy nodded. “Yeah. I’ve thought about it. It’s hard not to. ” He quit pacing altogether, then, and dropped himself onto the couch beside Pete. They both stared straight ahead without speaking for a few moments.

Pete broke the quiet first. “You said there was a pocket watch, too?”

“A family heirloom-type piece. Real silver, or that’s how I hear it—and it was engraved with Andrew’s father’s initials: C. L. B. It might be nice to see that watch, and it might even be worth some money. But that wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket compared with that ledger and the gold it ought to lead to. ”

“How much do you think that gold would be worth now?”

Rudy shook his head, then leaned it back against the wall. “I couldn’t tell you. Millions, at least. If anyone knew where it was, or if anyone knew where Andrew’s ledger was. ”

“And the ledger is probably with his body. ”

“So far as anybody knows. As I said, it might be in the museum. A tour guide there told me they keep some things in storage, so they can s

witch out the exhibits every once in a while. ”

“Huh. ” Pete leaned his head back too, settling his skull against the thin wood paneling with a thump. “Isn’t that something?”

Rudy sat forward then, and slapped Pete on the leg. “Yeah, it’s something all right. But it’s nothing, too. And it’s tragic, on top of that. Because it doesn’t mean shit to us now. It doesn’t mean a thing. ”

But that night Pete lay awake and stared at the ceiling.

He was not forming a plan. He hated plans. Besides, he didn’t have enough information to make a plan.

Not yet.

10

What Whispers

According to the news, police were canvassing the battlefield looking for the shooter, who had nearly killed a cameraman working with the Marshalls. We hadn’t been alone out there, but I was glad we hadn’t run into them.

Dave and Lu were home when I returned from the party. I thought about hiding yet another story from them, but then thought the better of it. I felt like the secrets were getting out of control, so I told them the truth. Luckily, they kept the freaking out to a minimum—though they both expressed some concern about my “habits” of late, bringing up my battered fender in a way that made me feel all the more guilty.

“But nothing happened,” I assured them. “There was no danger where we were. And to be on the safe side, after it happened we put out the fire and called it an early night. ”

“Did you see anything?” Lu wanted to know.

I told her no, of course not. “It was dark. And we were a couple of blocks away at the party. None of us saw a thing. ”

“You only heard the shots. ”

“That’s right. Three of them, I think. But it was a long ways off from where we were. We weren’t even sure what the first one was, when we heard it. Where did they say the fun went down, over near the park entrance?”

Dave checked the paper again. “Near the cabin at Dyer’s field, this says. ”