Delia's Shadow

by Moyer, Jaime Lee

  I shoved aside trepidation and did my best to shut out the sounds of Esther’s grief, and the deeper chatter of policemen just outside the window. Dropping my defenses as Dora had instructed earlier and opening myself to the ghosts was an act of faith. Doing so was also a measure of my desperation to find Sadie. I feared losing my best friend more than losing myself to a spirit’s control.

  Dora squeezed my fingers and began. “Two spirits I call who dwell in these walls, two spirits only should answer. In life you were known as Aileen Fitzgerald and Edward Coleman. We seek aid for a child of this house. Your task is to help us find her.”

  Three times Isadora repeated the call, each louder than the last. After the third time, mist began to coalesce over the center of the damask square. Tendrils of foggy gray and cigarette-smoke blue swirled around a pivot point, intertwined and separated again, but the shapes I’d come to associate with the ghosts never formed.

  Teddy’s ghost tried to take shape. Aileen’s ghost resisted, blocking him. His tie to the house and family was greater, but she was still the more powerful spirit.

  “Come to my call, Aileen Fitzgerald.” Dora’s control tightened and her voice became iron-hard. “A child of this house needs to be found.”

  “Find Sadie for me.” Isadora stiffened at the sound of my voice, but didn’t tell me to hush. She hadn’t told me not to speak, just not to move, and this felt right. “Sadie belongs here. She needs to come home, Aileen. Don’t let Ethan take her from Jack the way he took you.”

  The wall of resistance crumbled and both ghosts took shape, nebulous and barely there. Aileen’s ghost gazed into my eyes and I opened the way wider. The parlor, familiar and safe, vanished. I traveled with the two ghosts and saw the world as they did, but this wasn’t a dream of the past.

  We walked along the bayshore, pushing through reeds and splashing across marshy spots of wetlands, following a well-worn path. Gulls keened in a cloud-brushed blue sky, wheeling across the sun and diving toward the choppy surface of the bay. The air was full of the tang of salt and the reek of seaweed rotting in the sun.

  The reeds ended on a spit of dry land. Beyond was open water. The pristine sails of pleasure craft and the dingy sails of crab boats billowed in the stiff breeze. A ramshackle pier extended a few yards from shore before ending in a wrack of broken, sharp-edged timbers and rotting pilings.

  On the landward end sat a small boathouse. The roof had fallen in closest to the sea and the door hung by one hinge, swinging in the wind. A small cottage sat farther back, safe from the incoming tide and the surge of storm waves. Behind and stretching to either side, a tall, sea-grass topped dune hid the house from view. Traces of a dirt-topped road wound around the dune to the grass-tufted land in front.

  A black, two-horse hack, anonymous and nondescript, was parked near the front door. Ethan’s cab.

  The two ghosts turned to me. Teddy’s eyes filled with tears and he crumbled, dust scattered on the wind off the sea.

  Aileen pointed toward the house and spoke in soft, lilting tones. “Tell Jackie to hurry if he’d save his bride. I’d not like that bastard to take us both from him.”

  I turned in a circle, trying to remember the landscape and unsure if this was a dream. “Where are we?”

  “The fishing shack. Jackie and that man of yours will know where it is.” Aileen reached out to brush my cheek. Her fingers were warm, an impossible thing. I was dreaming. “He kept me in that other place for days before bringing me here. This is where he cut my heart out and tossed it into the sea. I wanted to lead you here from the first, but I couldn’t force you to come, you had to be willing. I’m just sorry we left it so late. Make sure Jackie knows his mother’s real proud of the man he’s become. Now back with you.”

  Aileen Fitzgerald’s patient green eyes were the last I saw. The bright, sunny beach faded and dimmed to featureless gray. I fell and kept falling.

  When I opened my eyes, I was stretched out on the floor of the parlor. Dora knelt next to me and stroked my face, calling my name, again and again. She let out a huge sigh at seeing my eyes open. “Oh, thank God, Dee. Are you all right?”

  I tried to sit up, a mistake. The world spun and only shutting my eyes again kept me from being sick. “Gabe … I need Gabe.”

  “I’m here.” He took Dora’s place, kissing me on the forehead before clutching my hand. “I’m right here.”

  “The fishing shack. Ethan is there and he has Sadie. I saw his cab.” Confusion clouded Gabe’s eyes and the sour taste of fear rose into my throat. She hadn’t lied to me, she wouldn’t lie about this. Not even ghosts were that cruel. “There’s a house on the beach and a ruined pier … and I could see boats on the water. The ghost said you and Jack would know where to go.”

  I knew the instant he’d remembered. Surprise replaced the confusion in Gabe’s eyes.

  “Damnation, there was a boathouse in Parker’s files. Take care of her, Dora.” Gabe hugged me tight before he ran from the room. “Jack! Jack!”

  Dora yanked one of Esther’s needlepoint pillows off the settee and slipped it under my head. She took another one for herself, blew out the two candles still sputtering and flopped down on the floor next to me.

  “We’ve done all we can do, Dee. The boys will get there in time.” Tears rolled down her face, smudging her makeup. “They must. I promised Daniel I’d stop drinking myself into a stupor at night. He’ll be extremely disappointed if I can’t keep my word.”

  Teddy and Aileen shimmered into view by the windows, looking out toward the street and standing vigil. Madam Isadora Bobet shut her eyes and began to sob in earnest. I held her hand, listening to the sound of Annie singing spirituals to Esther, car engines in the street, shouted orders, and the silence that followed once Gabe and all but a few of his men left.

  Silence pressed me into the floor and held me there. Each breath became a prayer, a plea.

  Please … bring her home. Please, God … not Sadie, too.

  Gabe

  Gabe motioned half his men to the left of the beach house and led the rest around to the right. The mares harnessed to Ethan’s cab danced in place and shook their heads, tack jingling, but settled once Baker got a hand on their noses.

  He’d brought the squad up from the road behind the house, using the shelter of the dunes and long, blue shadows of late afternoon to conceal their movements. Ethan had finally made a mistake, trading isolation for a clear field of view. Only one small window showed in the back wall and that was boarded over. The house didn’t have a backdoor. One way in and one way out meant their quarry had nowhere to run.

  If all went well, they’d have Ethan before he realized they were there. But Gabe had learned not to count on anything when it came to this case. He wasn’t going to take any unnecessary risks, not with Sadie and Marshall’s lives at stake.

  “What are we waiting for?” Jack crouched next to him, fingers flexing on the grip of his pistol and voice tight with strain. “We know he’s in there.”

  “And we know he has Sadie and Marshall, too. Surprise is the only advantage we have and might make the difference.” Gabe squeezed his partner’s shoulder. “I’d like to take Ethan alive, but don’t hesitate to shoot to kill if necessary. Sadie’s safety comes first. We go in the front on three, slow and careful.”

  “Hey there! What are you doing around those horses?” The old man hurrying toward them down the beach had the sun at his back, rendering him difficult to see. He shouted again, waving the fishing pole in his hand at Baker. “Too damn many thieves running loose since the fair opened. Skedaddle before I get the police after you.”

  Rusty hinges on the front door gave a tortured squeak. The door slammed shut again almost immediately, rattling windows and vibrating through the walls. Gabe swore and sprinted toward the front of the house, Jack right with him. “Maxwell, Finlay, get him out of here!”

  Two of the biggest men, Coen and Thomas, threw themselves against the weathered cedar panel door. It rattled in the fram
e, locked and likely bolted on the inside. They tried again, putting all their weight behind their assault, but the door didn’t budge.

  Low windows sat on either side of the door. Gabe smashed the butt of his pistol against the glass, shattering the pane. Jack wrapped a hand in his coat sleeve, knocking away shards of window glass that clung stubbornly to the frame. Once the space was clear, the two of them scrabbled through the opening, pistols drawn. Officer Polk followed.

  Dust laid thick on the furniture in the front room. Sadie’s handbag and hat were tossed into a chair, but that and the metal bar dropped over the front door were the only evidence anyone had been in the house for years.

  Polk began to work at getting the door open. Gabe cautiously made his way toward the back of the small house. Only the very real threat of Ethan getting the drop on him and Jack kept him from running. The first bedroom was empty, as abandoned and neglected as the main room of the house.

  In the very back of the house was a larger room. A trapdoor in the floor stood open, identical to the one they’d found in Thom Brennan’s old house. Rusty-brown blood splattered the walls and soaked the torn mattress on the iron-framed bed.

  Marshall Henderson was sprawled facedown in the far corner, hands bound behind his back. Gabe swallowed the bile rising in his throat and knelt to turn Henderson over and search for a pulse, never taking his eyes off the trapdoor or lowering his pistol.

  The relief of Marshall groaning and his eyelids fluttering left Gabe’s knees weak. His face was swollen and already purpling with fresh bruises, evidence of the beating he’d suffered. A gash over one eye bled freely, as did the split in his bottom lip, but his injuries would heal. Gabe’s promising young rookie would live to regret disobeying orders.

  Jack fidgeted, fingers flexing around the grip of his gun and weight shifting side to side, but he held his position until Gabe stood and waved him to one side of the trapdoor. His partner’s restraint was more than admirable.

  In many ways, Jack was a better cop. If Delia was down in that hole, Gabe didn’t know if he’d have the strength.

  He took the two steps down in a rush, trusting Jack to cover him. This room wasn’t as long as the one discovered under Thom Brennan’s house, but still deep enough they could stand upright. Lanterns hung from pegs mounted in the house foundations, casting a flickering, yellow light across the floor.

  A jumble of bones, aged and yellowed, filled one corner. Eyeless skulls stared accusingly, remains of the ghosts begging Delia to be found and buried.

  Ethan stood in shirtsleeves and butcher’s apron less than ten feet away, knife in hand. He’d shaved the beard from his wedding photograph, revealing a broad scar that ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Gray speckled his hair. Other than being tall and heavily muscled, he looked nothing like the description given by his wife.

  Sadie was injured, but alive. A gag had been stuffed in her mouth and the rope around her wrists looped through a metal ring, and tied to the post driven into the ground behind her head. Gabe shut out seeing the blood on her face, the crooked angle of fingers on one hand and the bruises on her face. He damped down rage and thanked God she was still breathing.

  Most of all, he pretended not to see hope flare in Sadie’s eyes or that she watched him. Gabe concentrated on keeping his gun pointed dead center at Ethan’s chest. “Step away from her, Ethan. Put your face to the wall.”

  “My uncle entrusted me with a duty and taught me what it meant. I can’t just turn away on your word, Lieutenant Ryan. I am Anubis.” Ethan smiled. Light glistened off his chipped tooth and emotionless blue eyes. “Osiris will judge her, as he judged all the rest.”

  “Step away, Brennan!” Jack circled slightly to the right, drawing Ethan’s attention, his pistol aimed rock steady. He pulled back the hammer. “Move now before I forget I’m a cop and not an executioner.”

  The change in Ethan’s smile or the twitch of his fingers around the knife, or the movement of a hand toward his pocket, Gabe was never sure what prompted him to shoot. He pulled the trigger, cocked the gun, and pulled it again.

  Again and again he put bullets into Ethan’s chest until he’d emptied his gun, each shot striking with a dull, wet sound. Blood blossomed and bubbled with each impact, telling Gabe he’d found his target. Ethan staggered and swayed, but kept his feet.

  Fear snaked its way up Gabe’s spine, accompanied by the momentary doubt that Ethan was capable of dying.

  The last shot belonged to Jack. Ethan touched a hand to his forehead in surprise, staring at the blood on his fingers. His eyes closed and he collapsed, limp and boneless as a puppet with severed strings.

  Jack stared, breathing hard, and passed his gun to Gabe. “Watch that son of a bitch and make sure he’s dead. I’m getting Sadie out of here.” He snatched the knife from Ethan’s hand, cut the ropes and scooped Sadie into his arms. Tears rolled down Jack’s face as he carried her up the steps, into the light.

  Gabe stood over Ethan, watching. Dead men twitched, moved, a reaction of muscles not willing to admit they’d been claimed by death. All his years of experience told him Ethan Brennan was dead, that there was no doubt.

  But he couldn’t ignore the cold fingers brushing the back of his neck, the whisper in his ear not to turn his back and walk away. He’d learned too much of ghosts from Delia and Isadora not to heed the warning.

  Gabe put the muzzle of Jack’s pistol to Ethan’s temple and fired. The twitching stopped, but he fired twice more.

  Being allowed to leave Ethan’s body to rot in the dark would be right and just, but officers in the SFPD were constrained by law and society’s idea of justice. Despite everything, he still wanted to be a good cop and someone his father would have been proud of.

  Gabe contented himself with walking away and taking the lanterns with him. Someone else could drag Ethan’s body into the light.

  CHAPTER 21

  Delia

  My tea was long cold. I’d lost track of time as I’d sat at the table, hands wrapped around a fragile porcelain cup, and pointedly ignoring the ghosts clustered near the backdoor. Dora did much the same in the chair next to me, her tea laced with whiskey and a pile of discarded, half-smoked cigarettes on the saucer in front of her. Light continued to fade outside the kitchen window, as did my hopes. Gabe hadn’t returned nor sent word of Sadie.

  Annie pushed through the swinging door, the tray of sandwiches she’d carried out to the officers in the yard empty of everything but crumb-strewn plates and dirty napkins. Feeding people was her way of handling uncertainty. “Boys always have an appetite no matter what’s going on. Both of you should try to eat something. Sadie’s going to need the two of you to lean on once Jack brings her home. You won’t do her a lick of good if you come down sick.”

  Isadora and I traded looks. Annie’s faith that Jack and Gabe would find Sadie in time was unshakeable and absolute. We wouldn’t say so aloud, but neither of us were as certain. “I won’t get sick, promise. How’s Mama Esther?”

  “She’s stopped crying, praise the Lord. Miss Esther was sleeping last time I looked in.” Annie stacked dirty plates on the drain board and wiped down the tray. “She kept on saying that Teddy told her not to cry no more, that things would work out fine. Whatever let her rest, I’m plenty grateful. But I’ll be glad when all the old ghosts are gone from this house and life settles back the way it was.”

  “We all will.” Dora lit a fresh cigarette. “I’ll do my best to make that happen, Annie. That’s a promise.”

  The front door banged open, bringing the sounds of cheering, feet stomping up the stairs, and Gabe shouting my name. “Delia! Annie! We found her!”

  He rushed into the kitchen before I’d taken more than a step toward the door. Gabe gathered me into his arms, his voice thick and choked. “We got there in time. Sadie’s hurt and needs a doctor, but we got there in time. She’s safe. Jack took her upstairs.”

  “Well done, Lieutenant Ryan.” Tears glimmered in Dora’s eye. She put h
er cigarette aside and covered her face with a hand. “Well done.”

  I hugged Gabe fiercely. “And Marshall?”

  He hesitated, just for an instant, and my heart sank. “Ethan hurt him pretty badly, but I think he’ll make it. Maxwell and Finlay took him to the hospital in another car. Jack wanted Sadie to go, too, but she insisted on coming home. He decided not to fight with her.”

  “He’ll make it.” I wiped my eyes on a sleeve. “And Jack knows better than to fight with Sadie. He always loses.”

  “Dee … Ethan Brennan’s dead. We don’t have to worry about him ever again.” He brushed stray wisps of hair off my face with shaking hands. “It’s over.”

  “Over…” Even with the specter of Ethan Brennan looming over us, I’d have gladly spent my life with Gabe. A brighter future opened up before me now, one not marred by fear and always looking over my shoulder. Relief and gratitude swept over me as well. No one else would die at Ethan’s hands.

  Annie shut her eyes and breathed a quick prayer of thanks. Then she took charge. “You did the right thing bringing Sadie home, Gabriel. I can take better care of my girl than the nurses at any hospital.” She began to bustle around the kitchen, collecting soap, towels, rolls of bandages, and a basin to hold hot water. Annie paused long enough to wave me toward the door before filling the kettle. “Dee, you go up and sit with her. I’ll gather what I might need and send one of the boys to fetch Doctor Miller. I’ll be up soon as I can. Go on now.”

  “Go be with Sadie.” How tired Gabe was showed in the lines around his mouth and the way his shoulders drooped. “She needs you. We’ll talk later.”

  “I’m coming with you, Dee.” Dora stood and smoothed the front of her dress. She smiled brightly, but I saw the way she studied Gabe’s face and searched the corners of the room. “Prying Jack away so the doctor can tend Sadie will require all of us. And I want to make a start on keeping my promise to Annie. Insuring no other ghosts creep in seems like a good way to begin.”