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“Would you ever hurt someone in return?” Jude asked, looking slightly alarmed. “You know, if they hurt you first?”
Everly drummed her fingers on the table for a few seconds. “I don’t know, Uncle Jude. I think I would if Aurora or Lizzie were the ones who got hurt. Maybe even if you or Daddy or Uncle Fitz were hurt, but I think it would depend on the situation.”
Ronan and Jude exchanged worried looks.
“Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m not gonna wipe out my entire third grade class because some little booger snot kicked me at recess.” Everly offered an innocent smile, which Ronan saw right through. “What happened to Delilah and the general?” she asked, looking and sounding like her usual cheerful self.
“According to the records we reviewed, Delilah was shot in the head at close range from an elevated position, as if someone were standing over her. There wasn’t a lot written about her death other than to record it, but the doctor who filled out her death certificate noted the death was a possible homicide due to the size of the entry and exit wounds.”
“Every death in the Civil War was a homicide,” Ronan said, shaking his head.
“True,” Fitz agreed. “But I dug a little deeper and the muzzle loader muskets used by soldiers were wildly inaccurate and used large lead balls as ammunition. Pistols, on the other hand, were very accurate at close range and used smaller ammunition. It’s my assumption that is the reason the medical examiner listed her death as a possible homicide.”
Ronan nodded as Fitzgibbon spoke. “I assume there was no investigation.”
“Right. The Battle of Gettysburg lasted three days. Over fifty-one thousand soldiers were injured with seven thousand dying during that time. That number doesn’t take into account civilian casualties like Delilah. When the battle ended, the troops dispersed and left the people of Gettysburg to bury the dead. There wasn’t the time or the resources to investigate the death of a so-called camp follower.” Fitz shook his head. “Delilah was most likely buried in a mass grave. The confederates weren’t very careful about marking the graves of the war dead, so it’s possible Delilah’s remains were never properly laid to rest.”
Aurora sniffled. “I hate that part of the story.”
“Me too,” Everly agreed. “What happened to the general?”
“Daniels was killed in battle. His remains were taken back to his Virginia plantation. He was buried in the family plot, which still exists.” Fitzgibbon pulled out his phone and handed it to Everly.
“John Joseph Daniels, Proud Confederate Son.” Everly’s lips twisted as she read the grave marker. “So, this butt hole kidnaps Delilah, murders her, and leaves her body for the vultures and he gets buried at his home, among his family members?”
“Sucks, huh?” Ronan asked.
“Maybe we should take a trip to that plantation during winter break. I’d like to have a word with John Joseph Daniels.” Everly cracked her knuckles, just like Jude when he was spoiling for a fight.
“Let’s table that for the moment,” Ronan said. There was no way in hell he was taking Everly, or Aurora, for that matter anywhere near that plantation. “Jude, what did you find out about Delilah’s family?”
“I went on the ancestry databases to see if I could find Delilah Meehan, and guess what? She was there. Delilah was born in 1843 to Robert O’Connor and Phillipa Meehan. Girls in this family often took their mother’s maiden name, rather than the name of their fathers, even though the parents were legally married.”
“I know why that happened,” Everly said. “Finish your story first.”
Jude grinned at Everly. “First of all, Delilah was known as the witch of Devil’s Den. Apparently she was an apothecary before the war. She used plants to make medicine to cure fevers and-” He paused, eyeing Ronan, as if he weren’t sure he should continue.
“Tell the story Jude. We’ll deal with the ramifications later,” Ronan said, with Ten nodding his agreement.
“Delilah got the nickname because she provided women with a tonic that would rid them of a pregnancy.” Jude wore an uncomfortable look. “Of course the townspeople knew what she did and left her in peace. When the war started, she helped nurse wounded soldiers and also helped connect the war dead with their families. It was also said that she had the power of sight, which was the reason General Daniels kidnapped her and brought her north with his regiment.”
“What else did you learn, Uncle Jude?” Aurora asked, looking awed by what he’d reported so far.
“Delilah had a daughter she named Dove in 1862. The child’s father was listed as Adam Forrest. She passed in 1901. Her line continues through today, but there’s only one member of the family left. A guy named Jeremy Daniels, who lives in Hartford, Connecticut. He’s the one who brought the witch board, planchette and diary to the museum.”
“Did you get any contact information for him?” Ronan asked.
Jude shook his head. “I called the Hawthorne Hotel and asked if they had a guest by that name and they do. He’s scheduled to check out tomorrow morning and is in room 336. Not as good as a phone number, but at least we know where he is.”
“The hotel is practically across the street from the Salem Witch Board Museum. He can probably see it from his hotel room window,” Ronan said. “Are we going over there to meet him?”
“I want to meet him. He’s my family,” Aurora said.
Fitzgibbon looked gut-punched. “I’m your family. We’re your family.” He motioned around the table.
“I know that, Daddy.” Aurora hugged Fitz. “You’ve been the best parents in the whole world. I want to know where I came from or if I have my mother’s eyes. Wanting to know those things doesn’t mean I love you any less.”
Fitz nodded, but didn’t look happy about it.