Dean and Mark glanced at each other. Mark looked as dazed as Dean felt.
“Get out of here,” Watson muttered. “I’m tired. Anything else you want to know, it’s all in that letter. Take the book with you. Never done me much good, anyway.”
Dean and Mar
k left without saying anything.
There was really nothing left to say.
11
They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it.
—William Penn
DEAN WAS LOST in his own thoughts during the hour-and-a-half ride back to Destiny. The old Bible lay in his lap. Within its covers lay the proof of Ian and Mary Anna’s innocence. His satisfaction at finally clearing their names was almost overwhelmed by his grief that his success would take Anna forever beyond his reach.
Mark left Dean to his thoughts; Mark, too, seemed to be preoccupied with the story they’d heard from the bitter, dying old man. They had almost reached the Destiny city limits when Mark broke the taut silence.
“You’ve seen them, haven’t you?” he asked quietly. “The ghosts, I mean.”
Dean’s fingers tightened around the Bible. “What makes you ask?” he countered.
Mark gave him a chiding look. “Can’t you just tell me the truth?”
Dean hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “If I tell you, you have to promise to keep it quiet. I don’t want anyone else to know my lead came from a ghost, all right? I, er, I have my business future to consider.”
“Mary Anna,” Mark said without commenting on Dean’s request.
Dean didn’t ask how Mark knew which of the twins he’d talked to. “Yes.”
“Damn.” Mark shook his head, looking even more dazed than he had by Watson’s revelations. “What the hell is going on here?”
“I wish I could tell you, Mark.” Dean looked out the window again, thinking of the coming separation from Anna. “I wish I understood it myself,” he added wistfully.
Why had he been the one chosen to help the twins? Why had he finally discovered true love with a woman he couldn’t have? And why did it have to hurt so damn much?
Mark parked in front of the inn, but made no move to get out of the car. “I don’t think I’ll come in,” he said. “I want to go home, have a stiff drink and try to process everything I’ve learned today.”
Dean didn’t urge Mark to stay. He had his own mission to accomplish. One he dreaded, even as he anticipated the pleasure in Anna’s dark eyes at having the truth finally revealed.
“You are going to print the article?” he asked as he reached for his door handle with his left hand.
Mark nodded. “I’ll print it, as soon as I decide how to word it.”
Dean left the Bible lying in his seat. “You’ll need the letter,” he said, nodding toward the old book. “You’ll want to have it verified first, maybe get a few experts to comment on it. Make copies and spread them around for insurance. I’ll be calling on Margaret Vandover this evening.”
“I know how to do my job.” The slight curtness of Mark’s tone told of his weariness, the strain of what lay ahead for him. For both of them.
Dean winced. “I know. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Sorry if it sounded as though I did.”
Mark nodded, appeased. “I’ll keep you updated on my progress.”
“Thanks. And, uh, Mark. Be careful.”
“I should be saying that to you.”
They both knew that Margaret was aware of the truth. Had she hired someone to warn Dean off, or had she shared her knowledge with someone else in the family who’d vowed to keep it buried?