Kindred Spirits

by Jean Marie Bauhaus

  “Well, nice to meet you anyway,” Jim told her, tipping the bill of his ball cap her way.

  Chris mustered a weak smile. “Yeah, you too.” She glanced back over her shoulder, presumably at Jimmy, and gave a brief nod. With another sour look at Derek, she left.

  He closed the door behind her then rested his head against it. He would have so much to make up for. But it couldn’t be helped. Better for her to be hurt and angry and safe than to be on good terms with him and in unnecessary danger.

  “Well, here I am,” said Jim, pulling Derek out of his thoughts. “What did you want to talk about? It sure sounded all-fire important on the phone.”

  Derek glanced at the box and wondered if he should turn it off. He didn’t doubt that Jimmy had the sense to keep quiet, but he was still a teenage boy. He might not possess a lot of self-control with his emotions running high. He decided to leave it, for now, afraid that drawing attention to the box would raise questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.

  He also realized, as he faced his father’s closest friend, that he had questions he wasn’t prepared to ask. How was he supposed to ask Jim about Steve without implying he thought the man’s son was a murderer?

  He took a deep breath and plunged in. “I wanted to ask you if you knew a talent scout was scheduled to watch Jimmy’s game the week he died. Did my dad ever tell you anything about that?”

  Jim furrowed his brow, then nodded. “I seem to recall him mentioning something about that at your brother’s wake.”

  “But not before he died?”

  Jim shook his head. His voice was tinged very slightly with bitterness as he spoke. “No, your father decided to keep that information to himself.” He shrugged and smiled. “Didn’t want it getting back to Jimmy. He was afraid it’d make him nervous, make him fumble the ball, throw interceptions, that sort of thing.”

  “Is there any way Steve could have known about it?”

  Jim seemed to think this over, then shook his head. “I don’t see how.”

  Derek rubbed his tired eyes. “Uncle Jim, do you know where Steve was the night Jimmy died?”

  “’Course I do. He was at home, having dinner with his family. Just what are you getting at?”

  Derek sighed. “Nothing.”

  Jim stared at him a moment, studying him. Then he jerked his chin toward the door. “That woman. She was that psychic, wasn’t she?”

  “She’s not—” Again, he sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Has she been helping you with Jimmy’s case?” He put finger quotes around the word “helping.”

  “She’s consulted on it, yeah.”

  Jim let out a disgusted laugh. “What sort of ideas has she been filling your head with, boy?”

  “It’s not like that. And don’t worry. She’s not involved anymore.”

  “I should hope not. It’s bad enough I had to bail you out of jail over that woman. Now you let her convince you that my son was capable of hurting your brother?”

  “She has nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh, so you just turn on family all on your own?”

  “Uncle Jim—”

  “I’ve heard enough. Steve was home with me and his mother when Jimmy was murdered. You think the police didn’t already talk to us about that night?”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “No. There’s plenty you don’t know, apparently.” Jim practically shook with indignation, and Derek wondered if he could feel like even more of a jerk. “You keep away from that woman, and you stop digging into your brother’s murder. It’s making you crazy. Leave it for the police.” With that, he stormed out.

  Derek resisted the impulse to go after him. He didn’t see it doing any good. Jim clearly needed time to cool down.

  “You’re an idiot,” said the box.

  Derek glanced at it but didn’t say anything. He stood there a moment, not sure what to do next. Then he knew. There was one more person he needed to talk to to be sure. Derek went to the entry table, put his wallet in his pocket, and picked up his keys.

  “Are you going after Chris?” Jimmy asked.

  “No. I’m going to talk to Steve.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Derek hesitated, too surprised to move. “Can you even do that?”

  “I’m coming. Bring the box.” Jimmy’s tone brooked no argument. Derek nodded and did what his big brother told him.

  Chris made her way out of Derek’s neighborhood in an angry haze.

  What just happened?

  She’d gone over there to give him her heart, to finally be as honest with him as she was with herself. But he’d put the breaks on this thing between them before she could even get a word out. Sure, he claimed—or at least, implied—that it was for her own good, but was that all it was?

  He said he’d been thinking since their little detour that morning, when she’d delivered Marie’s message. What had he been thinking, exactly? That it was too weird? Too much?

  Chris sniffled and gripped the steering wheel. If it were any other guy, she could believe that. But not Derek. Not after everything he’d been through with Jimmy.

  So he was protecting her. Which was bull. Okay, so she had spent one night in the hospital. But she was fine. It didn’t mean she couldn’t handle herself, even if their assailant was a little more corporeal than she was used to.

  She huffed out an angry laugh. This indignation must be what Derek had felt when she’d tried to keep him at a distance for his protection. Maybe she needed a taste of her own medicine. But that didn’t make it okay. If anything, it made it worse.

  He should know how much it would hurt her to be sidelined. If he had any idea how much it would suck for her, just sitting around worrying about him and his safety instead of being there to help watch his back…

  Except he didn’t know how much she would worry, because she didn’t get the chance to tell him.

  Well, if he thought she was about to stand back and let him go after a killer on his own, he seriously needed to rethink some things.

  By the time she got home, she’d worked up a healthy dose of indignation. She stomped into the house and into her office. She sat down and started her laptop, forcing her thoughts away from Derek’s misguided stupidity and onto what he and Jimmy had told her about Steve Lansing and the talent scout. If they could make a connection between Lansing and Scott Tucker, they’d have him.

  She was in the middle of typing out a search request when Ron appeared and perched on the desk. “So how’d it go? Why are you here instead of with Derek?”

  “He kicked me out.”

  “What? Oh, sweetie—”

  “For my own good. He’s protecting me.” When Ron opened her mouth to speak, Chris pointed at her. “Not a word. I already get the irony.”

  Ron pressed her lips together. After a moment, she spoke anyway. “Okay. So, then, what are you doing?”

  Chris told her what Derek had learned, as well as what he suspected. “What about another meeting with Scottie Tucker? Maybe if we tell him we already made the connection to Steve Lansing, he’ll be more willing to speak. After all, if he’s worried about his mom, she’ll be safer if Lansing’s put away.”

  “I don’t know. Scottie was pretty scary last time we tried. Joe wouldn’t like it. At least, not without him there to watch my back.”

  “Can you go ask him?” Before Ron could answer, the doorbell rang. “Hold that thought.”

  Chris’s heart pounded as she went to answer the door. Had Derek come to apologize? Would this be her chance to make her feelings clear to him? Was she still ready for that? All of her questions faded into irrelevance as she looked through the front window. They were immediately replaced by a single, overriding question: What in the world?

  She opened the door to her unexpected guest and forced a smile. “Hi. You’re Derek’s uncle, right? Is there something I can do for you?”

  Jim Lansing didn’t return her smile. “I was hoping we could talk. Jus
t the two of us.”

  Chris let her smile falter. “Is there something wrong?”

  He nodded. “I’m worried about Derek.”

  She relaxed a little. “I am, too. Come on in.” She stood back and held the door open for him as he stepped inside.

  “Nice place you have here,” he said, glancing around. “Do you live in this big house alone?”

  She considered the question. She didn’t think he was ready to hear about her ghostly housemates, so she simply said, “I have a cat.” She turned back toward her office. “Follow me. We can talk in here.”

  As she entered, she found Ron still waiting for her. Her sister’s eyes widened at something behind Chris and she shouted her name. Chris spun to see Uncle Jim holding a gun on her. Her heart leapt into her throat, choking off speech. She could only manage to croak out one word. “Why?”

  “How much do you know?”

  “What?” Her mind raced. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Know about what?”

  “Derek thinks my son killed his brother. Did you plant that notion in his head?”

  “No.” She glanced behind her and saw no sign of Ron. An unbelieving gasp escaped her. Surely Ronnie wouldn’t abandon her at a time like this. She turned back to Jim just in time to see both Ron and Joe materialize behind him. Ron looked terrified. Joe looked angry. Chris felt relieved and took another deep breath to steady herself.

  “Derek did that story that painted you as a con artist, and I believed him. But now, I’m starting to wonder if you’re the real deal. Bad enough you were poking around that Tucker woman.”

  “That was you?” Chris indicated her sling. “I have you to thank for this?”

  “I wasn’t the one driving, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “But you know who did,” Chris said, putting the pieces together. “You wanted Jimmy out of the picture.”

  “I didn’t want him dead!” He pointed the gun emphatically at Chris as he shouted. She closed her eyes and braced herself, but instead of shooting, he kept talking. “They were only supposed to injure him, keep him out of the game. I just wanted my boy to have his chance.”

  “Does Steve know about this?”

  “No, and he never will. Neither will Derek.” He steadied himself and leveled the gun at her. “I need you to come with me.”

  “As if,” said Ron. “You are not going with him.”

  “Distract him,” said Joe. “Get him to point the gun away.”

  Chris nodded, playing along. “Okay. We don’t need to go anywhere. We can talk about this.”

  Jim shook his head. “I really am sorry. Derek cares for you. I hate to hurt him like this. But I can’t have him figuring out the truth.”

  “You don’t think he’s smart enough to connect the dots?”

  “Maybe, but he’ll never believe it.”

  “And what’s he going to think happened to me?”

  Jim shrugged. “You’ll be another mystery for him to get wrapped up in. Maybe that’ll finally distract him from finding out who killed Jimmy.” He stepped back into the hall and waved the gun for her to follow.

  “Now!” said Joe. Ron grabbed a vase from a table in the hall and threw it against the wall behind Jim. It smashed and he spun toward it, clearly startled. Joe tackled him, holding the gun away from Chris. “Run!” he shouted, and she did.

  But Joe couldn’t overpower the living for long. Before Chris could get clear, Jim reached out and grabbed her hair, yanking her back to him. For an old guy, he had a strong grip as he wrapped a hand around her throat and pressed the gun between her ribs.

  “I don’t know how you did that. Maybe you are the real deal. But you’d better call your friends off or we’ll end this right here.”

  “Okay,” she managed. It was hard to talk with him pressing against her windpipe. “They won’t try anything else.”

  “Good. Now let’s go.” He released his grip and shoved her toward the door. She looked back at Ron.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said, already on the move. She glanced back at Joe. “Find Derek. Let him know what happened.”

  “How?”

  “Figure it out!”

  Ron followed them down the walk. Jim kept a strong hand on Chris’s good arm and the gun concealed behind her sling as he steered her toward his truck. He made her climb in on the driver’s side before climbing in next to her.

  Ron sat on the other side. “We’re going to get out of this,” she promised. “Don’t worry. Just stall him until help comes. It’s going to be okay.”

  Chris glanced at her sister and gave a slight nod, grateful that she wasn’t alone in this. Jim transferred the gun to his left hand and kept it pointed at her. “Try anything and I’ll shoot you right here. I can arrange an ‘accident’ to happen with the truck. They’ll never find any evidence.”

  With that, he started the engine and drove Chris toward God only knew where.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Joe stared through the open door, watching as the truck drove away with his love and the closest thing he’d ever had to a sister. He didn’t know what to do next. “Figure it out,” Ron had barked at him. He’d better figure it out fast if he wanted Chris to go on living.

  Find Derek and Jimmy. That was his next step. He’d cross the other bridge—actually communicating with Derek—when he got to it. Remembering everything Ron had taught him, he calmed himself and focused on Derek’s living room. He opened his eyes and found himself standing there.

  Well, that was easy.

  The house appeared empty, though. “Hello?” he called. “Jimmy? You here, son?”

  No answer. Joe muttered curses as he searched the house. He checked Jimmy’s room to see if he was sleeping but found it empty. He kept looking to be on the safe side, but he didn’t turn up anything useful. They’d left no clues as to where they might have gone. They could be anywhere.

  At a loss, Joe did the only thing he could think of. He focused on Ron. She was always easy to find.

  He found himself in a crowded truck cab, practically on top of her. Chris sat next to the old man, who kept a pistol pointed at her. Only a flicker of her eyes told Joe she’d noticed his arrival. Otherwise, she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead.

  “Tell me you found Derek,” said Ron.

  “Sorry. He’s not home and neither is Jimmy. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Jimmy’s likely to be with Derek. Focus on him like you did me. You’ll find him.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. “You can do this, babe. You kinda have to.”

  Joe nodded. “Hang in there,” he told Chris. Then he closed his eyes and fixed his thoughts on Jimmy, forming a vivid picture of the boy in his mind.

  When he opened his eyes again, he was in another house, one he didn’t recognize. Derek was there, arguing with another man, a big man who bore a striking resemblance to Chris’s abductor.

  “Joe?”

  He turned to see Jimmy standing there.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Someone’s taken Chris. I think he plans to kill her. Ron went with them, but they need help.”

  “The box. Derek left it in the car. It’s parked outside. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to bring it in.”

  “Not sure I am either,” said Joe. “Only one way to find out.”

  He found the car easily. The ghost box lay on the passenger seat. Joe had no trouble getting hold of it. It took more concentration to carry it with him back to the room where Jimmy waited, but he managed.

  “It’s not on,” said Jimmy. “Can you turn it on?”

  “Show me how.”

  Jimmy pointed to a switch, and Joe flicked it. The box lit up as Jimmy shouted, “Derek!”

  Both men stopped shouting at each other and turned. “Uh, what is that thing?” asked the big guy.

  The box remained silent during most of the drive to Steve’s house. Jimmy only spok
e up when Derek asked to make sure he was still there, or that the box still worked. Otherwise, like the sullen, angry teenager he still was, he sulked in silence.

  It was nearing sunset by the time they pulled up in front of Steve’s. “This is it,” Derek told Jimmy. “I suppose you want to come in with me?”

  “Kinda no point in coming if I didn’t,” came the reply.

  “Okay, but the box stays here. It would raise questions I’m not ready to answer yet.”

  “Fine.”

  With a sigh, Derek got out of the car. He would just have to trust that Jimmy followed him. He rang the bell and waited. When Steve answered the door, he was all smiles. “Derek! What brings you back here so soon?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Steve’s smile faltered a bit but remained friendly. “Sure. Come on in.” As he led him to the living room, he asked cordially, “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No. This isn’t a social call.”

  When Steve looked back at him, the smile was gone, replaced with a perplexed look. “Okay. What’s up?”

  “Did you know a college recruiter was going to be at the game?”

  An already arched eyebrow crept even higher. “Which game?”

  Derek let out an unbelieving laugh. “The homecoming game. The one Jimmy was supposed to play in a few days after he died.”

  Steve’s other eyebrow inched up to match the first. “No. I didn’t. The recruiter didn’t show up until the end of the season.”

  “That’s because the homecoming game was canceled so they could hold Jimmy’s memorial that night instead. Are you sure you didn’t know he was scheduled to be there that night?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Steve folded his beefy arms and narrowed his eyes. “Why are you asking me this?”

  Derek looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

  “Do you think I had something to do with what happened to Jimmy?”

  Derek started to deny it, but this wasn’t the time to put feelings first. He met Steve’s gaze. “Did you?”