Deadly Spirits Page 9

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Well?” Ethan asked. He crowded close to Christian, trying to see the computer screen over his shoulder.

  “Patience, Grasshopper,” Christian muttered. He opened another tab on his browser and brought up a link to a database listing names and addresses. “She’s here,” he said finally.

  Ethan let out a breath of relief. They’d been hunting Denise Larson for nearly an hour. She was one of seven in the area, and by the process of elimination, it looked like they had finally found the right one.

  Christian leaned back in his chair, grinning. “No Facebook or Twitter or Instagram. Not even a picture on-line. Which, in this day and age, is a remarkable feat. No wonder it was hard to find her. But I can confirm that she’s a nurse. She’s a home care provider.”

  “Cara said the entire oncology department thought she was a killer.”

  “I never pictured the Reaper as a woman,” Christian admitted.

  “Don’t be sexist,” Ethan said. “Ever see the movie Monster?”

  “Point taken.” Christian rose and fetched his black duffel bag. “Now comes the delicate part.” He unlocked his gun cabinet and took out a handgun.

  Ethan jumped off his chair. “We’re not going to kill her!”

  Christian put on a leather holster. “First of all, it’s me not we. And secondly, no, I’m not going to kill her. I’m going to watch her and see what she’s about.”

  “And if she is the Reaper?” Ethan pressed.

  Christian didn’t reply.

  “Well?” Ethan demanded.

  Christian set his jaw. “I don’t plan on hurting her if I don’t have to, but if it comes to that…” He shrugged.

  “You’re going to shoot her.”

  “This is why it’s only me who’s going,” Christian said. “From this moment on, your involvement ends.” He holstered the gun, so that it sat snugly against his hip.

  “You’re talking about murder!” Ethan paced the floor, too agitated to sit down. “That can’t be an option!”

  “If it prevents the deaths of a dozen people, then yes. I’ll do what I have to.” The normal, playful gleam in Christian’s eyes was now as hard as flint. Christian had said he was good at persuading people. Now, Ethan finally believed it.

  “What if we made the wrong ID?” Ethan protested.

  “Then I’ll walk away,” Christian promised.

  “You could call the police,” Ethan argued.

  “Yes, and I will if I think Denise is our Reaper. But I don’t hold much faith in them, do you?”

  Ethan thought of Kennedy Ladd. He’d been laughed out of the station when he said he saw her ghost. Later, when her body had been found, he’d almost been arrested. Still, he couldn’t sit back and let Christian be a vigilante. “You believe in Sophie’s vision that much?”

  “I believe in Sophie,” Christian said. He put on his leather jacket and zipped it over his gun. “She was never wrong about these things. If she said something terrible was going to happen, then I know it will.”

  Ethan blocked Christian’s path to the door. “This is about more than Sophie’s vision, isn’t it? You’re looking for revenge.”

  “Not revenge. Justice,” Christian growled. “The Reaper murdered her.”

  “But you said the ride…”

  “Yes, the ride crushed her,” Christian snapped, “but there’s more to it. I don’t know what kind of powers the Reaper has, but somehow, she’s is at the bottom of it.”

  “Then I’m going with you,” Ethan said firmly. No way was he letting Christian do this on his own. Ethan needed to be there in case things went south. Hopefully, they could come to a solution that didn’t involve more killing. “But I don’t want a gun.”

  “Good,” Christian said. “Because I’m not giving you one.” Finally, a bit of humor broke through his storm cloud expression. “You’d probably just end up shooting yourself. Or me.” He threw the duffel at Ethan who caught it. “You can make yourself useful by being the Sherpa.”

  “Thanks,” Ethan said dryly. Though, truthfully, he was glad for something to do.

  They climbed into Christian’s SUV and Christian pulled up the address on his satnav. “I’m going to have a hard time thinking of the Reaper as Denise Larson,” Christian said. “I was thinking of something more sinister. Like Lady Grimstone or Amber Stormwatch, Destroyer of Worlds.” Though Christian joked, Ethan sensed his tension. Christian’s mouth was firm, and his shoulders set. He drove with both hands locked on the steering wheel.

  Christian made a sudden right turn into the parking lot of a small strip mall. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He was out of the car before Ethan could respond. Christian dashed inside a restaurant called Cedars and a few minutes later came back with a white paper bag which he tossed at Ethan. The aroma coming from the bag was heavenly.

  “It’s a rule of stakeouts that you must eat shawarmas,” he said.

  “We’re doing a stakeout?” Ethan asked, surprised. He peeked into the bag and saw four flatbread sandwiches.

  “You didn’t think we were just going to rush in with guns blazing, did you?” Christian asked. “This kind of thing takes finesse. First, we’ll watch her place and get an idea of her routine. See if she’s hiding anything. Then I’ll go talk to her.”

  “And why shawarmas?”

  “Best sandwiches on the planet,” Christian said with a shrug.

  By the time they’d pulled up down the street from Denise’s house, Ethan had finished half of his sandwich and had to agree that it was one of the best things he’d ever eaten. Though, no doubt his breath would smell like garlic for the next week. As he wiped sauce from his fingers, he studied Denise’s house. It was a small ranch in a crumby neighborhood. Cracked, cement steps led to a battered front door. The one nod to aesthetics was a pot of plastic mums on the porch.

  “Are you sure about this address?” Ethan asked.

  “It’s the last one on record for her,” Christian replied. “Why?”

  “You said that the Reaper killed Sophie by crushing her with that carnival ride, right?” Christian nodded. “I don’t know,” Ethan said, “but does that look like a house belonging to someone with that kind of supernatural power?”

  “You were expecting a castle? Or maybe a bat cave?”

  “No,” Ethan admitted, “but something seems off.”

  “You don’t think Denise is the Reaper?”

  Ethan shrugged. “I don’t think she’s that powerful.”

  They sat in silence for a while, watching for Denise. “I’d love to get a look at the back of the house,” Christian said as he munched his sandwich. “See if she’s hiding anything in that garage. Guess we’ll have to wait until dark.”

  Ethan had been swept away on a wave of excitement, but now reality settled in. Just how long were they going to stay here? He had a life to get back to. He’d been ignoring his schoolwork, and he didn’t want to drop out this late in the semester. His biggest worry, however, was David. Nothing was going to stop him from going to the hospital again tonight. Not even the Reaper.

  As if reading his thoughts, Christian asked, “How’s your boyfriend?”

  “The same,” Ethan said grimly. “I spent the night at the hospital last night.” He swallowed. The story about seeing the shadow was on the tip of his tongue. His deal with the Angel of Death was a burden he didn’t want to carry alone. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if he trusted Christian enough to tell him the story. Not yet anyway. Besides, David could still get better on his own. There was always hope, wasn’t there?

  “He’s lucky to have you,” Christian said, sounding wistful. “You’re the kind of guy I’d want to come home to.” Then he laughed, embarrassed. “If I wasn’t single, that is.”

  “You’re flying solo right now?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah, a few meet-ups, but nothing serious. Definitely not committed to anyone. Not like you and David.” Christian spoke lightly, but Ethan had a strong sens
e that he was covering up a deeper hurt.

  Christian suddenly grinned. “Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to do an exorcism on a chihuahua?” While he told the story, he took a deck of playing cards from his pocket and practiced lifting each card using only his mind. Soon, Ethan was chuckling at the story while being amazed at Christian’s control over the cards. He was much better than he’d first let on.

  “You have amazing skills,” Ethan said after he’d watch Christian play a game of solitaire without touching the deck.

  “I didn’t when I was a kid.” Christian turned another card, revealing a seven of hearts. “Objects would simply fly into the air when I was angry or tense. I got labeled ADD because so many things broke when I was around. In school, the chalk would fly up to the board and write swear words.”

  “No one noticed?” Ethan asked, amazed.

  “You’d be surprised by how little adults pay attention to things,” Christian said with a touch of bitterness. “My parents medicated me, and it did help. Things stopped breaking and moving. For a while, anyhow. Later on, after the army fiasco, I backpacked around Europe. Guess I’ve always been a restless type.”

  “And the paranormal investigations?”

  “That started after I met Sophie. She connected me to a whole, new supernatural world.” Christian grinned. “I wish you two had met. She might have given you some deeper insight on your own gift.”

  “Curse,” Ethan corrected.

  Christian shrugged. “Depends on how you look at it. People would give their right arms to have what you have.”

  “And I’d give my right arm to be rid of it,” Ethan said.

  To Ethan’s surprise, the day passed quickly. Christian was a natural story teller, and his outlandish tales helped Ethan to forget some of his worries. Soon, the sky was growing dark and Tessa texted with the message that her parents were leaving for the night.

  “I need to go,” Ethan said. “I have night duty with David.” His plan was to walk to the main street, hail a cab, and take it to Christian’s apartment where his car was parked.

  “Can you wait a few minutes more?” Christian asked. “I really need to take care of business. There’s a bar at the end of the block, and I can use their bathroom.”

  Ethan agreed. The moment Christian was down the street, however, an outside light flared on at Denise’s house. Someone came through the side door. Ethan sat up straighter and picked up the binoculars that Christian had been using. It was her! She dumped a black bag into the garbage can next to the house then continued on to the garage where she turned on the lights.

  Now was a perfect opportunity to peek inside the garage, but Christian had disappeared down the street. It was time to play spy.

  Ethan jumped out of the SUV and hurried towards Denise’s house, thankful that there weren’t any street lights. Feeling like a peeping Tom, Ethan positioned himself under the garage window, ready to grab a look and run. He pressed his back against the garage’s wall, tensed, then sprang up for a quick peek. He’d intended to only glance inside for a moment, but he was so fascinated by what he saw that he didn’t even notice when a bludgeon coshed him on the head, sending him to the ground unconscious.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The world slowly swam into focus. Ethan groaned. The back of his head ached, and his wrists and ankles were bound. A flowered pillowcase covered his head. Someone stood nearby; he could hear the rustle of their clothing. Terrified, he struggled to sit up, but he kept his voice as calm as he could. “Who’s there?”

  “I’m asking the questions,” a woman’s voice said. “Who are you?”

  Ethan decided to take the risk. “Denise? Is that you?”

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “What were you doing in my yard?”

  He knew he had to keep his cool, but when his mind was screaming at him to fight, it was nearly impossible. “I’m a friend,” he said, praying she’d believe the lie.

  “Friend,” Denise scoffed. “Tell me who you really are, or I’m going to hit you over the head again.”

  How had she gotten him inside? Maybe Christian was right, and she had crushed Sophie with the carnival ride. If so, she’d be powerful enough to kill him where he saw. The thought make him break into a sweat. He needed to tread very, very carefully.

  He swallowed, trying to force moisture into his dry mouth. “My name is Ethan Rhodes.” He prayed the truth would buy him time until Christian noticed he was gone and came looking for him. “Take the pillowcase off of my head so we can talk,” he said. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Or lie about it if he had to.

  To his relief, the pillowcase was yanked off his head. He found himself on a sagging couch in a basement laundry room facing the woman from his vision. Only this time, her eyes were wide with fear and not hard like he remembered. There were other details, too, like her sallow complexion and the the deep lines bracketing her mouth. She wore a jogging suit and a knitted beanie pulled low over her ears. She tightly gripped a baseball bat in both hands. To Ethan’s relief, she did not look like a person who could rip the arm off a Scrambler ride and send it hurtling at a target.

  “What were you doing by my garage?” She was doing her best to appear in control, but fear made her voice wobbly.

  “I was looking for you,” he said. He needed to calm her down before she did something drastic. He wriggled, trying to get comfortable in his restraints. Where the hell was Christian? Surely, he’d be back at the car by now and find Ethan missing. “I just want to talk to you.”

  “I’ve been paying my bills!” she shouted. “And you already took my car. There’s nothing else you can take!” Then her worried eyes widened. “You’re not kicking me out of my house, are you?”

  So she thought he was a repo man. “No,” he calmly assured her. “I just want to talk.”

  “So talk.”

  “I saw you at a carnival a few weeks ago. You helped a friend of mine.”

  “I wasn’t at a carnival.” She pointed the bat at his chest. “You’re a liar.”

  “It’s complicated,” he confessed. He prayed that she’d take him seriously. “I know you were there,” he insisted. “I had a vision. You were at the carnival, and there was a shadow behind you. A shadow of death…”

  “Shut up!” She shoved the large end of the baseball bat into his chest, making him gasp.

  “Something’s going to happen,” he said. How much could he tip his hand? He’d already told her more than he probably should have. Did he dare mention the December massacre? “It involves you and a lot of dead people.”

  It was as if he’d tazed her. Her entire body went rigid and her eyes popped wide. “Is that what this is about?” she demanded. “How did you find me? Why can’t you people just let me lead an ordinary life?! That’s all I want!” She raised the bat as if to hit him again, and Ethan pressed himself against the back of the couch, afraid that she’d bash his skull in. “I don’t want to talk to anyone!”

  “This isn’t about the hospital,” he desperately assured her. “This is something else.”

  “Hospital?”

  “The one where you worked before they let you go.”

  “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “I know, I know!” he frantically assured her. The conversation wasn’t going how he’d expected. All he’d learned so far was that she was batshit crazy. And that was something he’d known even before she’d tied him up.

  “I know why you’re really here.” Her smile grew cunning. “You want to know about Susan Maddox, don’t you?”

  The name meant nothing to him, but maybe it would help to make sense out of the disjointed conversation. “Yes,” he said. “You’re right.”

  “Well, she’s not here!” Denise shouted. “She’s long gone. You’re out of luck!”

  Someone pounded on the front door. Christian! It had to be. Throwing caution aside, Ethan shouted, “Christian! Down here!”

&
nbsp; The sound breaking wood from the front of the house sent Denise scurrying out of the room. Ethan twisted hard against the zip tie that bound his wrists. He’d once seen a trick on YouTube about getting out of such a situation and tried it now. The trick was to apply a large amount of pressure and twist the right way. He did his best to copy the maneuver. The plastic dug into his skin, but to his surprise, he broke free. Now, all he had to do was to release his ankles. “Christian!” he shouted again.

  “Where the hell’s my friend?” Christian’s outraged voice floated through the house.

  “There’s no one here but me,” Denise shouted back.

  Ethan fought against his ankle restraints. For a moment, he was at a loss. As much as he yanked on the plastic tie around his ankles, he couldn’t get enough leverage to break it. Then he spied a mop near the washing machine. Hobbling over, he grabbed the mop, wedged it between his ankles and the tie. After a little applied pressure, he was free!

  He raced upstairs to the living room to find Christian pinning Denise to the wall. The baseball bat lay at his feet. “Christian!” Ethan said.

  “You’d better start talking,” Christian growled at Denise.

  She grabbed an old flip phone from her pocket. “I’m calling the police!”

  “Mom?”

  Standing in the hallway was a dark-skinned man with the face of a boy. Though he appeared to be thirty or thirty-five, his wide eyes and unguarded expression marked him as a mere child. “You’re hurting my mom!”

  Christian immediately let go. “Who’s this?”

  The man sidled into the room. “I’m Mike. That’s my mom.”

  “Go back to bed, Mikey,” Denise said.

  “But - ”

  Christian glanced at Ethan. “Everything’s okay,” he said. “We were just talking to your mom.”

  “It’s okay, Mikey,” Denise assured him, but she kept her eyes on Christian.

  Ethan rubbed his aching head, and his fingers came away red. Seeing the blood, Christian’s eyes widened. “What did you do to him?” he growled.