by H. P. Bayne
“You can’t do this,” Neil said. “Please. You can’t do this.”
The terror was evident in both Neil and Drea’s voices. Sully could stand by no longer.
He reached out mentally until he fully sensed the witch in the next room. He couldn’t see or hear her, but he had the sense of her. If need be, he could use her.
He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The energy he sensed was both strong and manic. Where Ned was a bizarre mix of aggression and playfulness, the witch was fear personified. Corralling aggression was one thing. Controlling that fear would be another, and Sully wasn’t sure he’d have time or the ability to fight through it.
He opted instead to rely on his own, human abilities.
Sully peeked around the doorframe just long enough to catch a side profile of Hank in shooting stance, rifle raised and pointed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Taking a breath, Sully moved, charging into the room and toward Hank.
Hank barely had time to cry out in surprise before Sully was on him, shoving him hard up against the wall. One of Hank’s hands had come off the gun to push at Sully, who focused entirely on disarming the man. Sully grabbed Hank’s gun arm and squeezed, searching for a pressure point.
“Neil, Drea, Casey’s safe! Get ou—” Sully broke off mid-command as pain seized the side of his abdomen. He glanced down to see a bloody knife in Hank’s left hand.
Sully ignored the pain from the stab wound as Hank drew his arm back as if to slice at him again. Defending his middle without releasing Hank and the gun was impossible, so he gritted his teeth and prepared for the next blow.
It didn’t come. Movement behind him revealed Neil and Drea weren’t running out but were coming to help. Neil seized Hank’s knife arm while Drea drove a fist repeatedly into the hand Hank still used to grip the gun.
Hank released an enraged wail as he was overpowered, one Sully suspected might rival that of the Witch of Rhibyn.
Two more punches from Drea and the rifle came free—just as Dez barged through the back door.
“Get the gun!” Sully said.
He guessed Dez had seen the blood and the knife when he instead pulled Sully away from Hank and took over restraining him. Unlike the others, Dez didn’t bother with a hold. He delivered two sharp blows to Hank’s head, dropping him to the floor. Then he rolled the unconscious man onto his belly and yanked his arms behind his back.
“Someone, get me something to tie him with,” Dez said.
As Neil and Drea headed into the kitchen, Dez eyed Sully. “That your blood?”
Sully nodded, pulling his coat aside. Blood soaked the side of his hoodie and the waist and hip of his jeans. Suddenly free from the fight with Hank, the pain hit him, and he fought to keep his feet under him as he twisted to lift his shirt.
“Shit,” Dez said. Then, “Neil, Drea, you guys want to hurry?”
“We are!” Drea cried. “We’re coming!”
A moment later, they were back, Drea on the phone, stating their address, and Neil carrying a cord removed from something electronic.
“Will this do?” Neil asked.
“For now,” Dez said. “Take care of Sully.”
Sully refused to move to the kitchen, wanting to stay near Dez in case Hank managed to free himself. He hissed as Neil cleaned and then applied pressure to the wound.
“How’s it look?” Dez asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, it looks bad, but I’ve never seen a stab wound before.”
Dez waved Neil toward Hank and asked him to sit on him while he checked on Sully. Dez touched at and studied the wound for a few seconds before heaving a relived sigh.
Dez patted Sully on the shoulder with a bloody hand. “You’ll live. You’ll need stitches, but it didn’t go too deep.” He frowned. “What happened to using the ghosts to protect yourself?”
Sully shrugged the shoulder on his uninjured side. “The feeling the witch gives off, having her energy inside me didn’t seem like a great idea.” He tried for a grin. “Hey, but we did it anyway, right?”
Dez raised a brow. “You did something. Remind me to smack you later.”
“Casey?” Neil asked. “You said she’s safe. Where is she?”
Dez’s turn to smile. “I sent her to town to get burgers. Made like nothing was wrong. I guess she’ll figure something’s up when she sees police cars and an ambulance or two, though. Maybe someone should give her a call. I can keep an eye on Sully and Hank if you want to do that.”
Dez returned to Hank as Neil dashed off, presumably to find his phone. When Dez knelt beside the downed lawyer, Hank revealed he’d regained consciousness by turning his head to glare at them.
“You’re in for a hell of a fight,” he said. “Whatever version of events you’re planning on sharing, I’ll come up with something better.”
“Our version will be the truth,” Dez said. “Not sure what you’re planning on coming up with, but I wouldn’t waste too much time on it. You’ll do better for yourself if you cop a plea deal.”
Hank snarled and laid his head back down against the floor. “Think you gave me a concussion.”
“Far better than dead, which is what you were aiming to do to these folks,” Dez growled. “Shut up.”
Hank shut up, and he stayed that way until police arrived.
21
It took Hank Fleming less than two weeks to realize Dez had been right about the benefits of making a plea deal.
As she hadn’t been cremated, the coroner’s office had Mildred exhumed so a pathologist could take a second look. As a result, bruising was found beneath her hair, at the base of her skull—bruising like finger marks which suggested she’d been pushed.
At least, that’s what Forbes told Dez and Sully.
“You were right about the will too,” Forbes told them quietly one evening at Dez and Eva’s house. “Between you, me and the wall, we found evidence he created the fraudulent one a few days after Mildred’s death. His computer program kept track of when the will was altered. Seems the plan was to pull out the original after the Wynnes were dead, then go and claim his fortune.” Forbes snorted. “Some fortune. Sure, the house might be worth a bit, but the old lady had next to nothing in her accounts. Seems she drained them over the two months leading to her death. I’d say she knew damn well what her snaky lawyer was up to. Too bad she didn’t trust anyone well enough to tell them. Guess her paranoia about people was well-founded in one case, at least.”
Forbes had been heading for the door to leave when he paused and turned. Sully eyed a piece of folded paper Forbes slipped from his inside jacket pocket.
“We talked about this picture you found showing the layout of the property. We haven’t done anything with it yet, and the lead investigators on the case didn’t see any merit in wasting resources on it given everything else on our plate. Best we can tell, it points out the cemetery on the property. My bet is, since this was found with the will, the old lady was trying to show where she wanted to be buried. Not possible now, but it is what it is. Anyway, if you’re seeing your clients again, I thought maybe you could return it to them.”
Sully accepted the paper with Mildred’s crudely drawn map. “As it happens, we’re going to see them tomorrow.”
He had other ideas about the hand-drawn map—and suspected Forbes did too—but he kept quiet about it until after he left.
Door closed, Sully turned to find Dez standing with head tilted to better eye the map. “I think there’s more to that than a burial spot.” He met Sully’s eye. “How much you wanna bet Mildred concealed her moolah to keep Fleming’s grubby paws off it?”
“Sounds like she knew exactly what he was up to,” Sully agreed. “With any luck, we’ll find out for sure tomorrow.”
Halloween day and Willow Valley’s main street was a flood of orange as Sully and Dez drove through, en route to the Wynne house.
“Festival’s tonight,” Sully observed. “I hope Neil and Drea don’t ask us to go.�
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Dez shrugged. “Oh God, me too. Ordinarily, I’d say it might be fun, but thanks to you, I kind of hate Halloween.”
Sully smirked, doing his best to ignore the balloon ghosts floating from a hair salon’s outdoor planters.
The Wynnes were waiting for them when they pulled up a few minutes later, both ready with hugs for Sully and Dez.
“How are you feeling?” Drea asked as she released Sully.
“Way better, thanks. A few stitches, nothing major. I’ve had worse.”
Dez nodded his confirmation. “Oh, yeah. He’s had worse.”
“I hate to ask,” Drea said.
Just as well since Sully hated to tell. Anyway, they had other business to attend to, and the sooner the better.
Sully pulled out the map. “The police returned this and asked us to give it back to you. Only, I’d like to go one better. Would you two be okay if we help you check this out?”
He was reminded Neil and Drea hadn’t seen this when Neil moved in close with raised brows. “Seems to point to the graveyard. What does it mean, do you think? Did she want to be buried right there?”
Sully hoped he knew the answer but didn’t want to say more until they’d done a little more digging—probably literally.
“Is Casey around?” Dez asked as they walked over to the family cemetery on the north side of the property.
“She’s actually helping some friends in town set up for the festival,” Neil said.
“Kimotan Rapids, you mean?”
Neil’s face cracked into a wide grin. “No, Willow Valley. She’s made some amazing friends here. She’s not dressing as dark these days.”
Drea laid a hand on his arm. “We never really minded how she dressed or did her makeup. The only reason we were concerned is that it was more than a look to her—it was a feeling. She’s lighter now, happier even. She’s even met a boy. Jax, I think she called him. And Cal, he was allowed to call us for the first time last night since he was admitted. He’s doing so much better.”
“And he was very nice to Drea,” Neil said. He gave what Sully could best describe as a joyous laugh. “They’re my kids but not. It’s like I don’t even know them anymore, and I love it!”
Sully had one other question, one he hated to raise. “What about the witch? Have you seen her again?”
Neil shook his head. “Not once. Not since two weeks ago in the sunroom. She disappeared as soon as we all got Hank under control. Good news for me and for Casey too. Luckily, the witch didn’t show herself to Casey that last day. Seeing her once was enough for her.”
It occurred to Sully the witch had previously heralded Hank’s approach, even before the sunroom incident. They just hadn’t read her signs correctly.
“I don’t know how to feel about her presence in my life,” Neil said. “She’s scary as hell, but she’s also tried to warn me. I hate seeing her, but I also recognize the benefits.”
Sully had been there himself once, not with a banshee but a regular ghost acting as harbinger. “Sometimes fear is a good thing,” he said. “If you can figure out what she’s trying to tell you, maybe you can act on it.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. What if I can’t figure it out? What if I get it wrong and someone dies?”
“I don’t know how much I could do,” Sully said, “but I’ll do everything possible to help, if you give me a call.”
Neil grinned and patted him on the back. “You know I will. Thank you.”
They reached the tree line and took a moment to get their bearings.
“I’ve honestly never been in here, so I don’t know exactly where the cemetery is,” Neil confessed.
Drea hooked an arm through her husband’s. “Honestly, the idea of having a cemetery here really creeps us out, especially after everything we’ve dealt with recently.”
Dez took a step back to study the area, glancing back and forth between the property and the map.
But Sully had his own methods, and he was able to take advantage of them now. The Witch of Rhibyn might be gone, but Mildred wasn’t. As he peered through the trees searching for headstones, her shadowed figure appeared a short distance ahead.
“I see her,” he said.
Neil seized his arm. “The witch?”
“No. Mildred. She’s here.”
“We thought she must have left,” Drea said. “We actually took a chance and opened the curtains a few days after Hank was arrested. They stayed open. And the house has felt so much lighter.”
“The threat’s gone.” Sully followed up with a smile. “Guess we got the right bad guy.”
He stepped into the trees, toward Mildred.
Ahead, he could see now a couple of stone crosses, but she wasn’t by either of them. She’d paused instead by a smaller stone marker rendered all but invisible thanks to the surrounding ground cover and leaves lying over it. Sully knelt and swept them aside. Little better due to the way weathering had worn down the inscription, but he was pretty sure he could make out a couple of letters: “Wm.”
William.
“Is this your father?” he asked her.
He peered up at her, expecting a nod or a head shake. He was surprised when she reached up and pulled up the veil, revealing her face.
Slowly, he stood to face her and got his first good look at Mildred Wynne. She appeared tired and pale, but there a kindness showed in her features too. The best part was he saw no trace of fear.
She touched his cheek, and an image formed. Mildred as a child, running giggling through the maze while her father chased her. Playfulness and love, hallmarks of a good childhood.
She’d loved this property and she loved her family—her descendants as much as those who’d come before. She wanted to take care of Neil and his family.
When she removed her hand, the cemetery and its ghostly inhabitant appeared in front of Sully.
“She wants you to know she was really happy here, and she wants you to be too,” Sully said. “She’s been trying to protect you. I think all the stuff with the curtains, she was trying to hide you, the same way she tried to hide herself. She knew she was under threat, and that threat continued with you.”
Neil stepped forward. “Is she still here?”
Sully nodded and motioned toward the spot. “Right here. Her veil’s up. She looks like a really sweet lady.”
Neil’s smile drifted from Sully to the spot he’d indicated. “Thank you, Aunt Mildred. Thank you for protecting us. I wish I’d known you better in life. I’m grateful my son got to spend some time with you. I’m just sorry he was such a dummy at the time. I apologize if he gave you any trouble.”
Mildred pointed down at her father’s grave—not the stone but the ground in front of it. Sully knelt again and brushed away a layer of dead leaves and decaying vegetation. The ground beneath was moistened with the recent rains, and he noticed then the mix of soil and grass in this spot.
“This has been dug up not too long ago,” Sully said. “Probably within the past couple of months.”
He glanced back up to see Mildred nod her agreement with his assessment. She smiled, pointing from the hole to Neil and back again.
Sully was pretty sure she didn’t mean for Neil to climb in. “I think there’s something down here she wants to give you.”
Neil cringed. “Isn’t that her father’s grave? I don’t want to dig up his grave.”
Sully chuckled. “I don’t think it’s that far down. She would have had to dig this herself, and I doubt she wanted to disturb her father’s grave either. I think she put something here so he’d watch over it for her. Do you have a shovel or two?”
Dez didn’t appear happy as he lugged a shovel a few minutes later from the property’s garden shed back to the cemetery. “Digging up graves isn’t really in my job description,” he muttered to Sully so as not to be overheard by the Wynnes.
It wasn’t in Sully’s either, but here he was anyway. Back at the grave, he and Dez worked fast, the moisture in the
soil making the process far simpler than it might have been otherwise. They had only to go about a foot before they hit something hard.
“Too shallow for a coffin,” Dez said. “And thank God for that.”
It wasn’t a coffin. What it was, was a small, hardshell suitcase. They dug around it until they were able to tug it free.
Sully peered up at Neil and Drea. “One of you want to do the honours and open this?”
Two head shakes. “Not a chance,” Drea said. “Go ahead.”
Sully unzipped it. Heavy plastic had been wrapped around the contents, so he flipped up the top layer to see inside.
Dez gasped. “Holy hell.”
Cash. And a lot of it.
Sully grinned at Mildred, and she returned the smile. Even if Hank had been successful in getting the house, he wouldn’t have easily got his hands on her money—and no doubt this was what he’d been truly after.
Dez removed one wad of bills and flipped through it. “This is all in fifties and hundreds. The size of this, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got close to half a million dollars in here.”
Sully spun as Neil dropped to his butt on the ground with a solid thud. He wasn’t about to faint, but his face registered shock. “Ha-half a million? Dollars?”
“Don’t quote me on that,” Dez warned. “But there are definitely a lot of big bills in here.” He grinned. “I’d say you can live a pretty comfortable life with all of this, though. If you’ve got any debts needing paid off, now’s the time.”
“I can think of one debt we owe,” Drea said. “Tell us how much your fee is, and we’ll gladly pay it. I mean, we owe you everything. You saved our lives, you saved our sanity, you saved our son. You could take this whole suitcase, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
