The First Ghost

by Marguerite Butler

  * * * *

  I must have been in the kitchen for a good fifteen minutes before I noticed something was wrong. I had completely tuned out Mrs. Bierstock and was making myself a cup of tea, when I spotted the first one. I thought it was a shadow near the cabinets. I had to look twice to be sure.

  There was no shadow, but a dim figure standing in my kitchen. The figure didn’t cast a shadow as much as it sucked in the light. It was an absence of color and feature. A slight movement drew my eye to the fridge. Two more Reclaimers. My heart beat faster.

  They almost blended with the wall, but not quite. I opened my mouth to warn Mrs. Bierstock, but nothing came out. I felt the vibrations in my chest before I heard the hum. The walls cracked from the intense vibrations.

  For the first time, Mrs. Bierstock seemed to notice things around her. She lifted her head and looked around. “No,” she said. “Oh no! Not this.” They were the first words I heard her speak.

  Her eyes roamed the room searching for escape. She made a break for the outside. The Reclaimers were on her the second she moved.

  I rushed after them and opened the back door. Three had their arms around the struggling woman. No longer crying, she fought them viciously, but she was no match.

  “No!” she screamed. “Let me go! I don’t want to!”

  When the humming became screech, I clapped my hands to my ears. The night sky split wide, and a light pierced my eyes so that I had to look away. I could hear the rumble as the sky continued to open. The wind had picked up, rushing from the gaping hole in the sky. My hair whipped my face, stinging me.

  A swirling funnel of wind surrounded me, tugging at my clothing and sucking me toward the gaping hole in the clouds. My feet lifted off the ground briefly.

  And then everything was still. And quiet. The crushing light dimmed. I was standing on the ground.

  I carefully opened my eyes. They were gone.

  I went back inside and canceled my date with Ethan. I wasn’t feeling like company.

  * * * *

  I had the house to myself. Mother and Walter were always looking to expand their horizons. At least, Mother was. Making her happy made Walter happy, and so they had signed up for salsa dancing lessons. Harry was gone with Violet to one of her art shows. Just me and the pug.

  The doorbell surprised me. A glance at the clock showed me it was eight o’clock. I left Billy on my bed, lovingly mauling his Dingo, and closed the bedroom door behind me. Frantic knocking quickened my step.

  I peered through the peephole, then opened the door. Duncan Werner swished past me, running a hand across his head as if he had hair to muss. I stared in bemused silence at my former boss pacing my living room.

  “They won’t let Ken out. Did you know that? Why won’t they let him out?”

  It took me a moment to realize he meant Dr. Tamaguchi, who was still in jail. “Because he killed Ruth. Why are you here?” I closed the door, leaning back against it.

  “Because you work for them undercover, right? You would know what’s going on.”

  I swallowed hard. My lies had returned to haunt me. “How did you get my address?”

  He stopped pacing and stared with red-rimmed eyes. “Your job application. You listed this address.” He put his hand on his hip. “I don’t even know why they arrested Ken. I took care of it.” He began to pace again. “I was sure I got everything.”

  It hit me like a slap. Duncan was the mystery partner, the one who helped Tamaguchi clean up his messes. He must have told Tamaguchi I was asking questions about the burritos. Duncan’s lip trembled. He was emotionally invested in this. Tamaguchi had been his friend.

  I made my voice as gentle as I could. “Duncan, go home. There’s nothing more you can do. You’re not a bad person. You tried to help a friend, but he’s already been arrested. There isn’t anything you can do.

  Tears leaked down Duncan’s cheeks. “If Ken talks to them... If he has... Has he? Did he say anything?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  He sighed and leaned against the mantle, wiping the tears on his sleeve. “I should have known he’d be faithful.” He looked at me. “I’ve made mistakes. I should have handled everything myself. Ken counts on me.”

  “You don’t have to help him anymore, Duncan. He made this mess, not you.”

  “Ruth made this mess! Ken may have been sleeping with that little slut, but it was me that he loved. I was the one he shared himself with, told his hopes and dreams to. She was useful to him, but he never should have fucked her. She thought that made her special.” He sniffed. “She killed Corinne, you know. Ruth did that, not Ken.”

  He looked at me and I nodded. “That’s what I think too. Ruth must have thought Corinne knew about her passing Seleman’s research notes over to Dr. Tamaguchi.”

  “Which is not illegal. Career suicide, maybe, but people ride scandals like that out. The bitch panicked. Poor little Corinne. Ruth poisoned her with Seleman’s heart medicine because she thought it would throw suspicion on him, but it just drew attention to Woll Ag. Ruth was such a fool. She should have let me handle things. I could have helped them.”

  “Duncan–” I circled him uneasily, trying to put the couch between us. “They were using you. Ken Tamaguchi used you because you care about him.”

  “Shut up! You don’t know anything! I don’t know what you said that made them arrest Ken, but–”

  “I said? Excuse me? I didn’t make them arrest him. I’m not with the police, Duncan. That detective is just my friend. But the police know Tamaguchi was involved. Personally, I think Tamaguchi knew everything Ruth was doing. He helped her kill Corinne.”

  “That isn’t true!” Duncan was crying again.

  I stopped moving. The couch was firmly between us. Duncan stood next to the end table with the lamp and phone. “Tamaguchi got Ruth to do his dirty work for him. Everybody knew Corinne was eating other people’s food. Ruth might know she ate Seleman’s burritos, but how would she gain access to Seleman’s medicine? All the scientists officed together on the same floor. Ken Tamaguchi had access to Seleman’s office, and he cleaned up the burritos. See, Ken and Ruth couldn’t know which one Corinne would take, so they poisoned all of them. They didn’t care if it was Corinne or Seleman who ate those burritos. And you want to know the worst part? Corinne didn’t know anything. She died for no reason. Ken Tamaguchi has been using you, Duncan, just like he used Ruth. He used her and then he killed her.”

  Duncan’s face hardened. “You and your cop friend think you know so much, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Ken didn’t kill Ruth.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a hunting knife. “I did.”

  He unfolded it carefully. The blade locked into place with a soft snick.

  The memory struck me with a blinding flash. I could hear Ellie channeling Ruth’s last moments. “I stole for him. I killed for him.” Him. Not you. She hadn’t been talking to her lover.

  Duncan was between me and the phone. Following my eyes, he picked it up and smashed the receiver to the ground, stomping the bits that broke off. Then he ripped off the wall-mounted phone, hacking away at the cords tethering it.

  I backed away, but before I could make a break for the front door, he circled, blocking my exit. He advanced, holding the knife underhanded like a street fighter. I ran for the back bedroom. He would kill me if he could catch me. I was almost to my room when his hand snagged my hair. My hand was on the doorknob. I had the door barely ajar when his weight took me down, knocking the air from my lungs. I was prone on the floor with him on top of me. My arms flailed in a wild panic. I caught him with an elbow and heard him grunt. Then his hands were in my hair again, pulling my head back, exposing my throat.

  Billy barked madly. He flung himself against the cracked door and scrabbled at it with his paws.

  Duncan’s hand was completely tangled in my hair. He slammed my face against the floor. My vision exploded with stars as the bridge of my nose connected with wood. Tears poured from my eyes, obscur
ing what little vision was left.

  He had me down, but I was taller and stronger and I never stopped fighting. He held the knife at an awkward angle. We were mashed up against the right side wall, and Duncan seemed unable to get his arm loose. I slammed him to the right as hard as I could and heard something clatter along the floor. He had lost the knife.

  My bucking and twisting again rolled him sideways, and we both grabbed for the knife at the same time. His hand closed on the blade first, but we were now face-to-face. I raked his eyes and face with my nails. He screamed, rolling away as my nails tore through his skin.

  I was up and moving, half-crawling, trying to get to my feet. He was right there behind me and grabbed my ankle. I kicked at him as hard as I could.

  The bedroom door was flung wide open by an unseen hand. Was this ghostly help? Duncan shrieked and released me. “Get him off me!”

  Billy had sunk his teeth into Duncan’s leg. Snarling, Billy shook his head like he was savaging his Dingo.

  My cellphone rang. I looked around, unable to pinpoint the sound. It was muffled. The couch. It was in the cushions somewhere.

  I made it to my feet and flung pillows off the couch. A gleam of silver caught my eye. I grabbed, clicked and screamed into the receiver without checking the number. “He’s got a knife. It’s Duncan Werner. It’s Duncan Werner. He’s here!” I prayed it was Fierro.

  I had trouble praying before, but at that moment it was easy to beg, to bargain with God for my life and the life of my dog. “Help me! Help me!”

  Duncan hacked at Billy with the knife. Blood ran down Billy’s side. With a yelp, he let go. Duncan stood over him, panting.

  I rushed Duncan from behind. He spun, knife still in hand, and flung me against the wall. His body pressed against me. I hung onto him, unable to let go, trying to pin his arms. The cell lay open on the floor where I had dropped it. I screamed again, hoping it wasn’t some telemarketer. In the close quarters, Duncan couldn’t get a good stab in. He caught the knife in my sweater, slicing it open. The knife grazed my side. The thin slice burned. He brought his arm back. I head-butted him. He stumbled back, and I brought up my knee as hard as I could. It made solid contact, and he screamed in agony as I drove his nuts up into his throat.

  He crumpled, his face white. I drew back my foot and kicked him again. Hard. Duncan curled into a fetal position.

  I kicked the knife away, panting. He struggled as if trying to raise himself up. I grabbed Mother’s pewter candlestick off the end table and clobbered him with it. I probably hit him more times than was necessary, but the bastard had tried to kill me.

  Billy whimpered, a blessed sound. He tried to get to his feet. Equally welcome were the faint sirens in the distance growing closer.

  Chapter 23

  I sat in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a blue blanket, my feet dangling, when Fierro pulled up. He screeched his car to a halt near the curb and jumped out, leaving it parked sideways on the street. I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me.

  “You should go to the hospital,” the EMT insisted for the third time. “I’ve cleaned it and put a butterfly clip on it, but it needs sutures.”

  The cut to my side was deeper than I’d thought. If Duncan hadn’t missed me through the baggy sweater, I could have been dead. The realization had begun to sink in, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Fierro ran his hand through his hair. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Is she okay?” he asked the EMT.

  “She’s in shock. And she needs to go to the hospital to get a cut looked at. It isn’t life-threatening, but it needs attention. She’s being stubborn.”

  “She can be that way.” He looked at me, his face hard. “I’ll take responsibility. I’ll see that she gets it looked at.”

  “Okay.” The EMT shrugged. “I’ll get a refusal form.”

  “Tamaguchi was using them both,” I said. “He was playing Duncan and Ruth against each other. They both killed for him.”

  Fierro stepped closer, his face bathed in the flashing red glow of the vehicles. “I’m so sorry.” He reached up to touch my hair. I realized his anger wasn’t directed at me. His hand shook in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. “I never thought Werner would come here.”

  I took his hand and pressed it to my cheek. “It’s okay. I’m all right.”

  He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I should have protected you. I am so sorry. I never warned you about Duncan. I thought he was involved, and I never told you. I should have watched your house.”

  “Stop,” I said. “Look at me.” He opened his eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

  “Sign here.” The EMT shoved a clipboard under my nose. “It says that you refused transport.”

  I released Fierro’s hand to sign the form and hopped off the ambulance. Okay, maybe hopped off isn’t accurate. Very gingerly, I settled my feet on the pavement.

  “I need to check on my dog,” I said.

  “The dog is okay,” the EMT insisted. “I checked him myself before sending him on.”

  Fierro grinned. “You’re a vet too?”

  “Hey, that little guy was a hero. He saved your friend here.”

  “I’ll take that into account. Where is Billy?”

  “One of the uniforms took him to an emergency clinic over on Spartan,” said the EMT.

  “He wrote the name down for me,” I said. “I want to go there and see Billy for myself.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Fierro said. “But only after you get that cut stitched.”

  “Not to Our Lady. Ethan is working. I don’t feel like having that conversation right now.”

  He grunted in understanding. “Yeah, there’s a night clinic over on the east side. I can drive you there.”

  My knees shook, and for a moment I was lightheaded. He put an arm around my shoulder to stabilize me. “You sure you don’t want that ride in the ambulance?”

  “Do you have any idea how much that would cost? I don’t have insurance.”

  He nodded. “Point taken.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder and let him lead me to his car. “I’m glad it was you.”

  “Hmm?”

  “The phone.” I lifted my head up. “I had no idea who it was. I just screamed and hoped it was someone who would send help.”

  “You scared me half to death with that, I hope you know. I was all the way downtown.” He smiled slightly. “I knew North Division would get here quickest. They said you scrambled Werner up good.”

  I smiled a little myself. “Part of it was luck.”

  “And part of it was grit too,” he said. “Very impressive for a secretary.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze and helped me into the passenger seat. I winced at the pain in my ribs as I settled into the bucket seat. The adrenaline had worn off, and I hurt, really hurt. Everywhere. My head, neck, shoulders, sides, legs. My nose was starting to throb. I hoped it wasn’t broken.

  Fierro sat in the driver’s seat.

  “I’m gonna need you to sign a complaint on Duncan in the morning. They’re booking him for Ruth’s murder, but I want him for trying to kill you, as well. And you are gonna have a dandy of a shiner tomorrow. Two of them. Is your nose broken?”

  He reached out a finger to touch my nose, but I jerked it away. “Maybe. It hurts. He smashed my face on the floor.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” Harry’s car was in front of the house. He’d leapt out of his seat and left the door hanging open. Standing in the middle of the street, he looked lost.

  Fierro leaned his head out his window. “Over here. Your sister is okay.”

  Harry rushed around to my side. My window sunk down with a hiss. “Portia? What happened? What’s going on? There are cops in the house.”

  “Yeah, um…” I had no idea what to say. I’m such a crappy liar. “Remember I said that there was bad stuff going on at that office I worked at? Well, it was really bad. Homicidally bad,” I added. “My boss tried to kill
me just now.”

  “Wow. Ginger doesn’t seem so bad anymore.”

  “It’s complicated. It has to do with that girl who was murdered. He killed her, and he thought I was working with the cops and that I knew something.”

  Violet moved the car out of the street, then she and Harry fussed over me as I struggled to explain. Then Mother and Walter arrived, and things truly became chaotic.

  I was forced to get out of the car and explain myself repeatedly. Mother insisted on making a pot of tea once the crime-scene folks allowed us back in the house. I was going to the hospital and she was taking me. We would be going to Our Lady and her future-son-in-law-the-doctor would look at me and that was final, but first we would all have a nice cup of tea since it wasn’t an emergency. And then she was buying a mammoth-sized soup bone for Billy.

  Fierro tugged my sleeve, and we stepped out onto the back porch. “Looks like you’re in good hands now.”

  “Sorry about Mother. She gets bossy when she’s wired up.”

  “She’s a mother. That’s her job. How about I go check on Billy for you?”

  I threw my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t want to let go. He rested his cheek on my hair.

  “Call me. He sounds okay, but I want to hear it from you.”

  He promised and all too soon, the tea was gone and I was in the car with my mother.

  * * * *

  Mother was still in her salsa costume: a skintight black leotard with vibrant swirls of colored ruffles that draped artfully about the waist. She looked pretty hot for a woman her age. Her hair was a mass of curls, but they were the fat, sexy ones produced by judicious use of hot rollers. I was reminded of how young she had been to become the mother of twins.

  “How could you?” she asked. “I warned you not to get involved in this sort of thing. You see what happens when you get so involved? Help them move along, but never try to sort out their problems for them.”

  “You would rather I turn my back and let a killer like that walk around free?”