She flicked the lighter and held it beneath the sage, waiting for it to catch. A curving line of grey smoke drifted from the bundle. She wielded the sage and salt in her world, just like he wielded a gun and bullets as his weapon.
Too bad neither would work on her father.
Chapter 37
Melinda Johns had been happy to give the key and address to Jake. The tension in her face eased. The burden of Kitty’s secret seemed almost too much for her to bear.
Ryley followed Crews to the location. When Ryley had been told it was an apartment, she’d thought more of one like she lived in, only nicer and more up to date.
She’d been wrong.
The penthouse across town had a majestic staircase and featured a fireplace in every room. Pristine white marble floors lightened the home, and stunning floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a draw bridge and ocean. Crews handed Ryley a pair of gloves to put on before he snapped the latex over his fingers. “Try not to touch anything, and yell if you find something.”
His mother’s involvement was a conflict of interest. If it turned into a homicide, there was no way he’d be on the case. Whatever there was to find, needed to happen before his mom was caught in the crosshairs and branded an unethical home wrecker.
Ryley headed down the hall and walked into one of the rooms. This room was meant to be Phillip’s. The décor was dominated by calming shades of blue and ivory. The bed was made; the desk was neat. The computer sitting atop looked expensive. Ryley opened the door expecting a bathroom and paused at the walk-in closet. “Holy cow! This is bigger than my bedroom.” She suffered an immediate case of closet envy.
The space probably seemed larger because there were only a handful of clothes hanging inside and a backpack sitting on the floor.
The bathroom was the same way. Few personal items. No toothbrush or toothpaste. The bathtub looked as though it had never been used.
She left that room and ventured into the next one. The walls were half painted a buttery yellow. Sadly, Ryley trailed her gloved fingers along the line of paint on the wall, even though Jake had cautioned her to not touch anything. How could she not? “Must be the room Kitty had picked for the baby.”
The plastic still coated the flooring. The brushes were washed and in the tray. The lids on the colors tight.
It was as though time stopped and took away the people painting inside. A room that would never be complete and lived in, discarded like the lives taken.
Ryley moved further down the hall to the master bedroom to find Crews standing in the doorway.
This room was nothing like the others. Where the others promised a forthcoming life of solitude and happiness, this one was much more desolate.
A picture frame lay on the floor. The glass shattered; the picture gone. Everything was in disarray. Clothes were scattered on the floor. The lamp on the bedside table lay broken in pieces.
A towel with a dark brownish red stain sat atop the wood.
“Who else knew about this place?” Crews asked.
“I don’t know,” Ryley whispered, swallowing around the apprehension clogging her throat.
“I have to call this in,” he said, staring at the disaster as if in a trance.
“Not until we’re done.” Ryley carefully stepped into the room. She went to the closet and realization smacked her in the face. “There are mens’ dress clothes in here.”
He gave a slow nod. “Probably the boyfriend.”
She stepped inside and grabbed one of the hangers and stepped out. It was a shirt with the thrift shop emblem on it. “That would be my guess. Jim Cantina was wearing one just like this the other day. What I don’t get is why he lied about them breaking up. It’s clear by his clothes that he’s been here before since she bought the place.”
Crew’s jaw ticked. “I’ll be sure and ask him when I pick him up.”
Ryley’s phone vibrated with a text from Logan Bane. It was short and to the point.
Jim Cantina went with Kitty Lynch to the baby doctor.
She showed it to Crews and followed him out of the apartment. “I don’t even think that towel will get you a search warrant for this place when you don’t have proof of foul play and everyone thinks she killed herself. You’re going to do some major convincing to people above your paygrade that there was more going on than meets the eye.”
“I know. I think it’s time I convince my boss that this might not be as cut and dry as it seems.”
“You do that. I’ve got an errand to run, and then I’m going to stop by the Lynch place and see if they’ll let me hold something personal of Kitty’s. It’s time I call her out and try to connect now that I have some emotional triggers to use. This needs to stop before it gets even more out of hand.”
“I’ll call you if Jim confesses,” Crews said as he walked her down to her car.
Stretch was lounging in the backseat because the passenger seat was occupied. Mr. Wilson was waiting with a patient smile.
“You could live here, you know. You’re my benefactor. All my money is yours.”
“I don’t want your money,” Ryley said, pulling out of the parking lot. “Look what that did for Kitty. She had a boatload of cash, and she still died heartbroken and alone.”
“The farmhouse will be your sanctuary. You’ll love it there. I promise.” She glanced at Wilson to find him looking at her. “Your signature is the only thing keeping me here.”
“Go sign his paperwork, Ryley, so I can get my seat back,” Stretch whined from the backseat.
Ryley drove to the cemetery and parked, glanced at both ghosts, and narrowed her eyes. “Please don’t follow me unless you can help me with the kid.”
There were no cars in the parking lot. Nothing to suggest that the mortuary make-up artists were even on the premises. No black clouds, or creepy crawly soul eaters. Not even another ghost in sight.
She stepped out and walked to the bench in front of Adam Bell’s grave. She sat with a sigh. Adam’s grave seemed larger today. Maybe it was just the added weight of needing to help him find his peace. The car and the note she’d left had disappeared.
“Adam, I’d like to talk to you,” she called out and sat back, staring down at his parents’ headstones. The entire family had died on Christmas Eve. “I can help you see your family again.”
The air around her chilled. The hairs on her neck stood up. He was near.
“Tell me what you remember, and I’ll try to figure out who killed you.”
“I don’t remember,” he said from above in the tree. “I was asleep waiting on Santa Claus.”
Her heart clenched at the thought. “Did you hear anything?”
He disappeared from the tree and reappeared beside her. “Tell me how I find my momma. I miss her no matter how many times she yelled at me to clean my room.”
“Most kids get yelled at. It doesn’t mean their parents don’t love them.”
He lowered his head. “I was unruly. Bad. Maybe I don’t deserve to be with them.”
“Adam. Most people stay until they resolve their unfinished business. Tell me what yours is, and I can help you.”
“I just want my momma,” he said.
“I can help you see her again if you just talk to me.”
“No!” Adam yelled and reappeared up in the tree.
That one word summed up Ryley’s week. She’d been an unruly child until her father’s fist had broken her from talking back. She’d missed her mom too, after her death.
“I’m not going to give up on you,” she called out.
“I don’t want you here. I don’t want your help. I don’t want anything but for my life to go back the way it was before they were taken away.”
“You don’t belong here. Your mother is waiting for you in the light.”
Adam vanished out of sight.
Adam Bell was still angry, and she couldn’t blame him. Ryley was angry too. Would she still be one of the spirits hanging around with unfinished business, looking for someone else who might
could see her? If she ended up dead, she had only one goal in mind. She’d haunt her father until she drove him insane.
Chapter 38
Ryley drove to the Lynch home, surprised there was no guard, and the gate had been left open. An additional car was in the driveway. One she didn’t recognize. One that didn’t belong. It was an older car needing a paint job. She parked behind it and walked by. It was littered with fast food bags and old soda bottles.
Ryley strolled up to the door. When it flew open, she came face to face with Samantha, the volunteer from the food kitchen. Samantha had been glancing over her shoulder as she rushed out the door. “No more. I told you.”
She’d almost run into Ryley on the porch.
The girl's eyes widened. The color drained from her face. She clutched the backpack tighter against her chest.
The backpack was identical to the one Ryley had found in Kitty’s apartment.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Ryley said.
“Just another week,” Phillip called out before he yanked the door open further. “Samantha, we aren’t done.”
“Yes, we are,” she said and jogged to her car.
Phillip tugged at his shirt in an adult-ish move. He ran his hand over his head. “Are you here for my father or for Dr. Crews?”
“Is Rosalind here?” Ryley asked, trying to hide the confusion.
“Yes. They both are.” Phillip pulled the door open further for Ryley to enter, his gaze still on the car retreating down the road.
“Samantha works at the food bank, right?”
Phillip nodded. “Yes, she volunteered with my mom. We’ve both been volunteering since our soccer coach made us when we were kids.”
“I didn’t know you played soccer.”
Phillip gestured to the sitting room and glanced down at her tennis shoes. “Why would you know? You aren’t friends with my parents.”
He had a point. She wasn’t friends with them. She gestured to her shoulder. “Was soccer where you got the backpacks with your names on them?”
“Yes. My parents sponsored my team. Coach Cantina ordered the same for everyone.”
“Wait. Cantina was your coach?”
Phillip frowned. “Dr. Crews is with my father in my mother’s art room. Last I saw they were talking about redecorating the place.”
Ryley’s eyes widened. That was the worst idea anyone could have. As long as Kitty resisted going into the light, changing her studio guaranteed there’d be hell to pay. “Do you mind? I know my way.”
He moved and gestured with his hands. “What do I care? Maybe you’ll catch them making out and tell them it’s disgusting.”
Ryley hurried out of the room and through the kitchen to the back patio. She pulled the door open to the art room to find it empty.
She stepped inside, and the surrounding air turned cold. She was in the right place. Ryley moved farther into the room. “Kitty, I know you’re in here.”
A painting was on the easel. One that wasn’t before.
The painting was of a woman in a tub fully clothed. Her wrists were hanging over. Her head slumped to one side. The picture was haunting. Not because it was Kitty, but because it was Rosalind. Ryley would know that bracelet anywhere. She’d spent hours in therapy staring at the bracelet.
Ryley pulled out her phone and dialed Rosalind’s number. Ringing sounded from across the room behind a closed door. Ryley sent a text to Crews to tell him where she was. She pulled the Taser out of her bag and turned it on.
She crept across the room and turned the knob. The door creaked as she opened it.
There was a split moment where she could only see Rosalind’s wrist and fear like no other had overcome her. The air around her chilled more.
She shoved the door open. Christopher was with her. He was slumped over in the corner. His hands were tied to a pipe. A needle was sticking out of his neck. The putty knife lay at his hands.
Ryley called 911 and hurried inside. She crouched down next to the tub. The water was still clear. There were no cuts on her wrists, but Rosalind was out cold.
“Murder-suicide. Isn’t that what they call it?” Phillip asked from the doorway.
Ryley spun to his voice. The gun clutched in his hand was pointed directly at her.
“Why did you kill your mother?”
Chapter 39
Phillip's eyes flashed with regret and then with anger. “She wanted to move. She wanted to have another baby with my coach even after she found out Coach was cheating on her. Samantha seduced him, and my mom didn’t even care. Coach gave in all too easy, just like my father had with the therapist. You know my mom took me to see Dr. Crews once after she found me with the dead cat. It was her fault I got sent off. But I’d changed, and when I returned, I no longer had thoughts of killing cats. Not when I discovered both of my parents screwing up. They wanted a divorce.” His voice got louder with each sentence. “And my mother was going to replace me, and I couldn’t let that happen.”
“You paid Samantha to seduce your mom’s boyfriend and then told your mom about it? Why would you hurt her like that?”
The temperature in the room dropped significantly when Kitty appeared. She hovered near her son, her face a sad mask. Tears glistened like diamonds on her translucent cheeks. Phillip was the unfinished business. He was the reason she was trying to scare Rosalind away.
“Hurt her? Hurt her?” His voice boomed. “She wanted to live with the man who taught me how to kill the damn cats. She wanted to raise a baby with the monster. I couldn’t let it happen.” He narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Phillip, I know what you’re going through. My father tried to kill me when I was younger than you.”
Phillip adjusted his grip on the gun. “You’re lying, and you’re stalling.”
“I’m not lying. He thought I was a freak because I can see ghosts. It’s true.” Ryley glanced toward Kitty. “Your mom is right over there.”
He glanced in that direction. His hand started to shake.
Kitty stretched out her arms, and wrapped them around his shoulders. It was weird and beautiful at the same time. The kid had killed his mom, but a mother’s love never died.
“Talk to her, she can hear you,” Ryley encouraged, pulling the needle out of Christopher’s neck. She kicked it under the tub and grabbed the putty knife lying by his feet.
Kitty cupped her hand on his face. “She’s touching your cheek. Do you feel a coldness there?”
The kid rested his palm on his face over his mom’s as if guided by the chill. A tear slipped down his cheek. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”
Ryley cut the ties used on Christopher, even though he was still unconscious.
“Why did you have to cheat on Dad?” Phillip’s tears came harder and faster.
Ryley pulled Rosalind out of the bath and onto the floor. The sound of sloshing water made Phillip’s gaze flash in Ryley’s direction. He re-aimed the gun. His nostrils flared with the fire in his eyes.
“Phillip, your mom doesn’t want you to do this. She loves you very much.”
“You’re lying,” Phillip said, aiming the gun at Rosalind’s unconscious body on the floor.
Ryley stepped in front of Rosalind, blocking the path, holding the Taser tight in her hand behind her back. “I can’t let you kill her. She saved my life when I thought I was going insane.”
“She ruined mine,” Phillip said.
“Kitty loves you. She tried to stop me from figuring out what you’ve done.”
Uncertainty clouded Phillip's eyes.
“Who do you think put these scratches on my face? Who do you think pushed Rosalind down the stairs? She’s still trying to protect you even from the grave, but she can’t anymore. You killed her.”
More tears sprung from his eyes, creating a wet path down his cheek. “Your attempt at murder-suicide is over. You won’t be able to explain my presence.”
“I’m sure I’ll think of something. The papers called
you a crazy psychic. I can get them to believe me,” Phillip said, swiping angrily at his tears. He moved his finger on the trigger.
Ryley threw her Taser at his hand, knocking the gun away from her direction, then she charged him. The gun skittered into the art room and she scrambled to reach it. Phillip grabbed her foot and pulled her back, turning her on the ground. He jumped on her and punched. She fought back, bucking him off of her body. Phillip was a strong kid, but he was no match for growing up with the likes of Ryley’s father.
An uppercut finally took him down for the count. His body crumpled to the floor, and Ryley crawled toward the gun.
“Ryley!” Jake Crews called out as he raced into the room. Ryley left the gun where it lay and rolled over on the floor, trying to catch her breath.
His look said it all.
She pointed a tired hand toward the bathroom. “The kid killed Kitty, and your mom is unconscious in the bathroom. I don’t know what he gave her, but the needle is in there. It was in his dad’s neck.”
Crews headed for the bathroom when Phillip groaned and reached for the gun. He aimed it at Crews as more cops hurried in. They yelled at him to drop it. Tears streamed harder down Phillip's face as he glanced at Ryley. “Is she still here?”
Kitty was hovering behind him.
Ryley nodded.
Without warning, Phillip turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger.
“No!” Ryley screamed, crawling in his direction.
One of the police officers pulled her back.
More officers hurried into the room, along with medics.
All Ryley could do was stare at the two apparitions in the room. Phillip was standing next to his mother while she was cupping his cheek. Kitty glanced in her direction with a sad smile before she and Phillip both vanished.
The police ordered Ryley out of the room. The medics were trying to help her, and she shoved them away, using the wall to help her stand. She held her ribs while stumbling out of the art studio and into the pool area.
Samantha was standing next to another cop. Relief filled her eyes. “I was so worried. I wanted to yell at you to run, but he would have killed me, too. I called the cops when I got down the drive.”
Grave Wrong (Lost Souls Society Book 1) Page 18
