Page 57 of Beyond the Grave
I crouched beside him. "Are you sure?"
"Moderately."
"Wouldn't it have been washed away if it was from a week ago?"
"Not entirely, if the rain wasn't heavy and there was a lot of blood." He moved away and, keeping low, brushed his fingers through the ankle-deep grass.
I followed suit, heading in the other direction. Not three feet away, I found a silver button. "From a gentleman's jacket or waistcoat?" I asked, showing it to him.
"Possibly."
"It's quite distinctive. Look, something's been engraved on it."
We bent our heads closer. Our arms pressed together and our faces were only inches apart. Being so close to him scrambled my senses and clouded my brain. I fought to clear it and focus on the button.
After a moment, I could make out the inscription. "The letter B," I said. "For Buchanan?"
Lincoln cleared his throat and shifted his weight which moved him a little further away from me. "I…yes, it is."
I opened my reticule and placed the button inside. "This proves that Buchanan was here and knew about the baby."
"Agreed."
"I think it also proves his disappearance is related to that discovery, and nothing to do with the occult."
He shook his head. "It proves nothing, except that he knows his sister-in-law gave birth to a full-term baby and he got into a fight up here. We don't know who with or why."
"Surely with his brother."
"Perhaps. But we also don't know what happened to him after the fight."
"I'll put money on him being dead."
His face darkened. "You arenotgoing to summon his spirit."
"I wasn't going to. However—"
"No."
He walked out of the graveyard, back down the slope. I picked up my skirts and ran after him. "Come now, Lincoln, it will prove one way or the other if he's alive."
"You're suggesting that, after what happened with the Pearson woman's spirit?"
"Andrew Buchanan doesn't have magical powers."
"He might have learned some through the books."
"Lincoln," I said, walking fast to keep up with his long strides, "you've read the same books. Didyoulearn any new magic tricks?"
My logic had silenced him for almost a mile when I decided to break it. "Do you have a better idea?" I asked defiantly.
"Yes. We'll question the local doctor. It's likely he sought out medical assistance to tend the wound."
"If he was alive."
We walked another mile, and I finally conceded that his idea had merit. "But if we learn nothing, may I then summon his spirit?"
"No. And for once, I would appreciate you doing as I ask."
