Dinner, although delicious was quiet with Amy still thinking about the young woman who gave so much and received nothing in return. Pendergast too seemed to be lost in thought.
Finally Amy spoke up. "Those women…The Virgins of New Orleans, were, in fact, virgins. Our victims were all examined…," she trailed off.
"Could it be," Pendergast picked up the thought, "that they were killed because they were not virgins."
Amy was nodding. "So is somebody trying to recreate what Georgiana had done? I am not aware of any philanthropic activities carried out by young women who are or who claim to be virgins. Maybe that means that somebody is trying to recreate," she paused, '…recreate what?"
Pendergast shook his head. "We will not solve this today," he said gently. "You are hurt and exhausted. You need some sleep." Amy wanted to argue..she wanted to continue to push for a solution, but she realized that she could barely keep her eyes open and that even moving was taking every ounce of effort that she could muster.
Without quite realizing what was happening, Amy let Pendergast take her arm and lead her up the stairs. They stopped in front of her room. He opened the door for her. Again they stood facing each other. Amy lifted her hand to gently touch Pendergast's face and he captured the hand, kissing it gently and slowly releasing it. "Good night, Ameline," he said quietly before turning and leaving.
Amy lay awake a long time, trying to calm her thoughts. She kept thinking about Georgiana, about the Virgins of New Orleans and most of all how it felt when Pendergast had touched her face. Finally, exhaustion overtook her and she drifted off.
She slept fitfully, her dreams haunted by things she remembered, things she knew and some that came unbidden. She woke up before the sun rose. The morning smelled fresh and sweet without the humidity for which Louisiana was known. Amy sat up and flinched, still feeling the effects
Amy decided that a morning run would help loosen her up and, hopefully clear some of the cobwebs that seemed to be filling her brain that morning. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, laced up the running shoes that she always packed when traveling, and walked down the stairs. Maurice walked out of the kitchen wiping his hands and Amy waived at him. "May I help you, Miss?" he asked.
"Just going for a little run, Maurice," Amy replied lightly.
"Running? Running from what, Miss?" Maurice asked.
Amy could not help suppress a giggle. "Just running, Maurice. For exercise."
"Even as you say, Miss," Maurice murmerred non-commitally and Amy thought with amusement, something akin to disapproval. "Breakfast will be at eight am, Miss. Will you be joining Master Aloysius?"
"Yes. Maurice.," Amy replied. "I will be glad to join Master Aloysius."
Amy walked out onto the porch and inhaled the fresh, cool air. She set off toward the gate at an easy jog. She was debating if she would run down the road or make a tour of the Penumbera property by tracing all the winding pathways. She decided to do a little bit of both. She would run down the road a bit to reallywork out the kinks, then return and make a leisurely tour of the plantation; that would get her home and showered before eight AM for breakfast.
Amy sped up her run, she was going to push herself while she could and then take it easy on the way back. She heard a car behind her and moved further to side to let it pass, but it stayed behind her. May ran on for a few more minutes thinking that the driver was waiting for a good opportunity to pass. When the car remained behind her, she began to get nervous. As far as she could tell, she was still running parallel to Penumbera property. There was an unbroken wooden fence along the property. It was only waist high, but behind the fence were high bushes and trees. She would not be able to get through the undergrowth even if she tried.
Amy's heart was beating hard now and not just from the exertion of her run. She scanned ahead and saw what she had been looking for – a break in the growth. She continued her run and, at the last minute vaulted over the fence. She had hoped to land on even ground, but there was a slight incline and her feet slipped out under her, twisting her ankle. She cried out and cursed her stupidity, but continued to run, gritting her teeth in pain. She had hoped that the car would keep going, but instead she heard the tires screech as the car made a tight turn.
The crash that he heard next caused her to turn around and she gasped as she saw the car crash through the fence and rolled down the embankment. Shaking off the shock, Any turned and ran as the car crashed through behind her. Mercifully, the old vehicle was no match for the uneven ground and in a few minutes, she heard a grating sound as the car came to a halt. She continued to run, but her ankle was slowing her down. She heard the door slam and heard another person crashing through the growth after her.
Amy was headed back to the house, hoping that she would be able to attract attention. She focused on watching where she was going so as not to trip. However, it was her ankle that betrayed her; as it gave way, causing her to fall. Swearting, Amy got up again, but she had lost her advantage and the person chasing her – she now saw that it was man was on top of her. She saw that he was brandishing something and realized that it was a large knife.
Recalling her training, Amy wrestled with the man, actually kicking him off her. She was trying to stand up and fight back, when the man came charging at her again. That's when she heard the retort of a gun, saw the man hesitate momentarily, before falling in a heap a few feet away from her.
Amy looked over her shoulder and saw Pendergast, his Les Baer still raised, approaching her. Again, he was dressed in just a shirt and pants and while his breathing seemed a bit rapid, he showed no other signs of exertion. Pendergast, approached the prone form and searched for a pulse; he looked up and shook his head, "Dead." He holstered his gun and walked to Amy. Offering her his hand, he helped her stand, supporting her for a few moments in what could almost be called an embrace.
Amy was trying to regain her breath and her composure. Through gasps or air, she managed to ask, "How?" How had he known where she was? How had he known that she needed help? Pendergast just smiled a slight enigmatic smile and helped her up.
Amy felt the strong arms around her...she wanted nothing so much as to stay there to be kept safe. She felt the heat of Pendergast's body through her thin tee shirt and it began to stir things deep within her, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She wanted the feeling to go on forever.
Pendergast had woken up early and was already in the dining room enjoying an early cup of coffee when he heard Amy's exchange with Maurice. He had walked out on the porch and watched her run, marveling at the graceful and light gait as she ran toward the road. He was still standing there when he heard the crash. Grabbing his side arm, he ran toward the sounds. He had arrived just in time to see the man raise his knife and charge. With no conscious thought, he raised his gun and fired. He had no doubt that he had intended to kill the man. Now he had the young woman in his arms and it surprised him at just how right it felt for her to be there. He found himself holding his breath, hoping to extend the moment. But eventually Amy shifted her weight and looked up at him, her green eyes full of curiosity...and...maybe something else.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
Breathing normally now, Amy replied. "I think so. I twisted my ankle, but its better now that I am waling on it." After a moment...,""What in the hell was that all about?" Pendergast just shook his head. "Is this related to...?" Again Pendergast just shrugged
"I do not know. We need to call the Sheriff." Amy winced at the memory of the man, but knew that Pendergast was correct.
By the time she had showerd and taken an aspirin for her sore ankle, several deputies from the Sheriff's were in the Sitting Room with Pendergast. They had coffee and their notepads open, but seemed to be wrapping up.
"Thank you, Agent Pendergast," the one whose name tag said "Bailey," told the other man. "I think we have all that we need. In fact you have done us a service. We've been after that perp – his name was Garrison - for a while now. He is," a pause, "he was a transient with a drug problem. The car was stolen. He was probably going to try to sell it for drug money."
Amy had been listening. "But why did he try to get to me?" She asked.
Bailey just shook his head, "I've know idea Miss..,"
"Agent," Amy corrected him tartly.
"Agent," Bailey said, "I've no idea why he would be after you. Who know's what drug addicts do and why." Amy had to agree with this assessment.
"One more question, if I might, Deputy Bailey," Pendergast's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Who did the car belong to."
Bailey checked his notes. "I'm not sure why you would care, but it belongs to Grayson DuBois. He reported it stolen yesterday."
It was a good thing that the Deputy still had his nose in his notebook and missed the look that Amy and Pendergast exchanged.
I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Connection or Coincedence? Stay tuned and find out. I will try to update quickly as life permits. Please let me know what you think as I am always so grateful for your reviews.