Page 47 of Dark Shadows
The drive to the cemetery included a stop at the caretaker's office, a small building just inside the gates. Mr. Phillips, who had held the position since Savanah was a child, recognized her immediately.
“Well, I’ll be. Savanah Miles. You back home for a visit?”
Savanah gave the old man a hug. “Sort of. These are my friends, Special Agents Mason Spencer and Jacob Klein, with the FBI. They’ve got some questions about the cemetery, and I knew you were just the person to ask.”
“Of course.”
“How many of these marks have appeared recently?” Mason showed him the photos.
Phillips adjusted his glasses. “Started about ten years ago. Maybe twenty new ones total. Filed reports each time. The families were furious. Police never caught anyone, though.”
“Any cameras?” Jacob asked.
“Budget barely covers lawn maintenance.” Phillips shook his head. “I document the vandalism when it happens. That’s about all I can do.”
“Mind if we take a look around?” Savanah asked.
“Of course not. Take your time,” Phillips answered.
They stepped outside.
“I’m going to take a quick look around and then head into town to start questioning some of the locals. I’ll text you,” Jacob said.
“Be careful, the people in this town aren’t all friendly,” Savanah called out as Jacob left.
“I’m always careful,” Jacob called back as he went in the opposite direction.
Mason caught Savanah’s hand. “Where is Emmaline's grave?”
“The older section is toward the back of the property.” She pointed. “Under the oak trees.”
Mason kept hold of her hand as if they were on a romantic stroll through the graveyard. “I’ll walk with you then hang back. But stay where I can see you.”
The morning air felt crisp. Fallen leaves crunched under their feet as they walked.
“About last night…” he began.
“Which part? The kiss or the drunk asshole?”
“The kiss,” he answered. “Any morning-after regrets?”
“Not a one. Actually, I’m hoping it happens again.” She glanced at him and smiled. “Soon, in fact.”
“I think we can arrange that.”
They reached the older section, where centuries-old headstones stood.
“I’ll wait right over there,” Mason said, touching the pepper spray in her pocket. “Yell if you need me.”
Savanah nodded before stepping among the weathered graves.
Savanah found Emmaline's grave easily. It was the largest marker under the oldest oak. The symbol was still visible, carved deep into the granite.
As she traced the marking with her finger, the air grew cold. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Somewhere nearby, a twig snapped.
She turned quickly, eyes sweeping the rows of headstones, but saw nothing. Just shifting shadows as clouds drifted overhead. Mason stood nearby with his phone to his ear, scanning the area.
Savanah dropped to her knees in front of the grave and adjusted the flowers so they leaned against the base of the headstone.
