Onyx Webb 9

by Diandra Archer

  “For starters, forty of those fifty people are dead, so they ain’t talkin’,” Tommy said. “The other ten have been locked in the panic room for four hours.”

  “You’re forgetting the people at the hospital,” Maggie said. “God only knows how many people saw Declan Mulvaney arrive. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone hasn’t already sold photos to TMZ. We can’t simply rewrite the facts.”

  “Sure, you can,” Tommy said. “You’re the f’ing FBI. Make something up.”

  “Wait. Am I missing something here?” Maggie said.

  “What’s that?” Tommy asked.

  “We’re doing all this to cover up what really happened, right?” Maggie said. “Does anyone want to explain what really happened? You’re not buying Olympia Fudge’s ghost story, are you? You know she makes a living hyping this kind of nonsense, right?”

  Pipi and Newt remained silent.

  “Oh, you’re shittin’ me,” Tommy said. “She doesn’t know?”

  Pipi shook her head.

  “I tried to tell her, but she didn’t believe me,” Newt said.

  “Tell me what?” Maggie asked. “The ghost thing, you mean?”

  Once again, no one spoke.

  “Oh, God—are you saying Newt was telling the truth?” Maggie said.

  Pipi nodded and held out her hand. “Go ahead, take my pulse. See for yourself.”

  Maggie hesitated and then placed her fingertips on Pipi’s wrist. Maggie’s eyes grew wide, and she stepped back and lowered herself into a chair.

  Newt considered telling Maggie that Tommy was a ghost too, but he decided it was better to help her understand the truth one ghost at a time.

  6:26 A.M. EST

  IN THE MANSION LIBRARY

  PIPI ESPERANZA SAT behind a table in front of the group seated before her, writing the names of each person on a legal pad.

  Pipi counted the names on the list:

  •Pipi Esperanza

  •Tommy Bilazzo

  •Stormy Boyd

  •Gerylyn Stoller

  •Bruce Mulvaney

  •Krissy Archer

  •Quinn Cole

  •Noah Ashley

  •Alec Yost

  •Beatrice Shaw

  •Bunny Whitlock

  •The governor of Georgia

  •Simon Prentice

  •Koda Mulvaney

  •Robyn

  Fifteen.

  The SWAT commander and Special Agent James stood at the back of the room, one on each side of the door, like sentries.

  Sixteen, seventeen.

  Newt and Maggie stood along the wall at the side of the room.

  Eighteen, nineteen.

  “I have to leave,” Beatrice said. “I have a business to—”

  “No one is going anywhere,” Pipi said.

  Just then Special Agent Bond entered the room with Graeme Kingsley and Olympia Fudge.

  Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.

  Twenty-two—that’s a lot of characters to have in one room at the same time, Pipi thought.

  “Good to see you, Ms. Fudge,” Pipi said. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “It’s got a hole in it. That’s how it is,” Olympia said, gesturing to her arm hanging in a sling and glancing around the room. “What is this, an Amway meeting?”

  “Take a seat, Ms. Fudge,” Pipi said.

  Pipi waited as Olympia and Graeme took seats, and Agent Bond joined James and the SWAT commander at the back of the room. “It’s a complete media frenzy out there,” Bond said. “I felt like a rock star showing up for a concert.”

  “Okay,” Pipi said. “Let’s get started.”

  “It’s been a long night, and I imagine most of you are exhausted and eager to get on with your lives,” Pipi said. “But there are a few things we need to discuss—a few things we need to get straight first.”

  “This is ridiculous,” the governor said, rising to his feet. “I’m the governor of Georgia, damn it.”

  “Yes, and I’m with the federal government, which provides your state with $10 billion in federal funding that can be taken away like that,” Pipi said, snapping her fingers.

  The governor sat back down and went silent.

  “As I was saying, I know you’ve all been through quite an ordeal, but the important thing now is that we come to an understanding of what exactly took place here last evening.”

  Alec Yost snorted. “You think?”

  Pipi ignored the comment, knowing the next words out of her mouth were going to cause a stir.

  “The purpose of this meeting is to reach an agreement as to what each of us—each of you—will be saying to the media.”

  “I don’t understand,” Bruce said.

  “About the gas leak,” Newt said, taking a step forward from his position against the wall.

  The room filled with noise as everyone tried to process what they were being told.

  “The gas leak?” Koda said. “What gas leak?”

  “The one that killed thirty-nine people in your home last night,” Pipi said.

  “What about the ghosts?” Krissy said.

  “There were no ghosts,” Pipi said.

  “They’re trying to whitewash what happened to make the story more palatable,” Bunny said.

  “If that’s the case, you can count me out,” Simon said. “Dr. Stoller predicted a ghost attack would happen on the night of the solstice eclipse, and by God, it did. The book sales for the sequel are going to be enormous!”

  “That’s the stupidest idea for a cover up I’ve ever heard,” the governor said. “Who in their right mind would believe a gas leak killed—?”

  “The better question is, who in their right mind is going to believe there was a ghost attack?” Tommy said, interrupting the governor.

  “I agree,” Stormy said, jumping in as he and Tommy had planned. “People who read the tabloids, maybe, but everyone else? Anyone who walks out of here and tells the media there was a ghost attack is going to be made a laughing stock. But if we all stick together…”

  “I’m afraid that they’re right,” Gerylyn Stoller said. “There’s no benefit in telling the truth, and a lot of bad things can happen if we do.”

  “Christ, this is a new one,” Alec said. “The politician wants to tell the truth, and the person who stands to make a bundle telling the truth wants us all to lie.”

  “He’s right, Gerylyn,” Simon said. “There’s a lot of money at stake here.”

  “I don’t care about the money,” Gerylyn said. “I’m more concerned about the general panic that could occur if people know the truth. I’ll go along. It was a gas leak.”

  “What about the man who stole my truck and ran over Mika Flagler?” Beatrice said. “Or was that a gas leak too?”

  “What?” Koda said. “Mika Flagler’s dead?”

  “Yes,” Beatrice said. “She was run over with my catering truck by the Southern Gentleman,” Beatrice said.

  “That’s crazy,” Bruce said.

  “It’s true. The Southern Gentleman stole my catering truck and ran her over in cold blood,” Beatrice said.

  “You saw this?” Koda asked.

  “Yes,” Beatrice said. “Well, no, actually. I was hiding in the back of the truck when he did it. But then he stopped to talk to her while she was dying, and I escaped into the woods. Only he was dressed like a woman.”

  “Like a woman?” Newt asked.

  “Holy shit,” Olympia said. “That’s who I saw walking through the house. I thought she looked kind of masculine.”

  “Describe her,” Newt said.

  “He was wearing a white skirt and a lavender sweater—or light blue maybe. It was hard to tell because it was dark,” Beatrice said. “Oh, and because he was wearing a skirt, I could see his legs.”

  “What about his legs?” Newt asked.

  “They were fake,” Beatrice said. “You know—prosthetics.”

  “I’m going to need you to sit with a sketch artist
, Ms. Shaw,” Pipi said.

  “There’s one more thing,” Tommy said. “Regarding Declan…”

  “What about him?” Bruce said.

  “The media is going to ask about the stabbing,” Tommy said. “When they do, the answer is no.”

  “No?” Bunny said. “Of course he was stabbed. I was standing right there. I have blood on my mink coat to prove it.”

  “She’s right,” Robyn said. “There are people at the hospital who saw the stab wound—the ambulance driver for sure. How are you—?”

  “Due to his advanced age, Mr. Mulvaney was the first person at the party to succumb to the noxious gas and collapsed at his table,” Pipi said. “When he did, he accidently fell on his steak knife. That is going to be the official statement from the FBI, and I’ve already spoken to the county coroner, who has confirmed the cause of death to be gas poisoning. Also, our forensics team will confirm the large explosion was the result of—”

  “Let me guess. The gas leak?” Alec said.

  “Jesus, you people think of everything, don’t you?” the governor said.

  “The FBI exists to protect the public,” Pipi said. “Sometimes the ends justify the means.”

  “If you say so,” Alec said.

  “When do we get our phones back?” Noah asked.

  “And I want to see my mom,” Krissy said.

  “Soon,” Pipi said. “Now I want to make sure we are all in agreement that there were no ghosts.”

  The room was silent.

  “Good,” Pipi said. “And just in case anyone here decides to change their mind, please remember the FBI has considerable resources at its disposal.”

  “Like what?” Simon asked. “You’re going to have us audited by the IRS?”

  Pipi didn’t answer.

  She didn’t have to answer.

  “Listen,” Bruce said. “I don’t care what you tell the media. All I care about is that you get the asshole who killed my father.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Mulvaney,” Pipi said. “We’ll get him.”

  “Yeah, where have I heard that before?” Bruce snapped. “Oh, yeah, I remember—from you. From you and your boy wonder here when my wife went missing. How’s that investigation coming along?”

  Pipi said nothing.

  Neither did Newt.

  Pipi pulled Newt and Maggie out in the hallway and could tell immediately that Newt was thinking about something. “Don’t let what he said get to you,” Pipi said.

  “No, it’s not that,” Newt said. “But he is right. I did make a promise I was unable to keep, but there’s something else.”

  “What?” Pipi asked.

  “I think we’re making a mistake letting them all walk without debriefing each of them, individually that is,” Newt said. “Beatrice Shaw and Olympia Fudge both saw the Leg Collector dressed as a woman, and if they hadn’t brought it up on their own, we’d have no idea. God only knows what else people saw that could be important to us.”

  “That could take all day,” Maggie said. “I can’t imagine any of them are going to be too happy about it.”

  6:52 A.M. EST

  ON THE FRONT LAWN OF THE MANSION

  DOMINGO GUTIERREZ AND his cameraman would have left an hour earlier had the FBI not taken the keys to the van.

  And their camera.

  And his cell phone.

  Now there were twenty other media trucks camped outside the front gate of the mansion, none of which were stupid enough to go along with the FBI’s demands.

  To make matters even worse, the story about Mika Flagler had hit the airwaves—even though he’d been first on the scene. And a fellow reporter from his own station just broke the story that the governor pardoned Wyatt Scrogger a half hour earlier.

  Had he just stayed put at the prison…

  Then there was a knock on the side of the van.

  “Domingo Gutierrez?” Special Agent James asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “The deputy director wants to see you,” James said. “Come with me. And your cameraman too.”

  9:02 A.M. EST

  ALEC YOST’S LIMOUSINE

  THANKS FOR WAITING,” Noah said as he climbed into the back of the limousine waiting in the circular drive outside the Mulvaney mansion.

  “What are friends for,” Alec said, motioning for the driver to go.

  “Look at this zoo,” Noah said as they crept through the gauntlet of reporters straining to see who was inside the limo. Finally, they cleared the mansion’s front gate and turned onto the main road. “They’re like animals.”

  “Tell me about it,” Alec said. “Put the divider up, will you?”

  Alec and Noah waited until the smoked glass partition closed before continuing. “So are you okay with this gas leak story?” Alec asked.

  “Honestly? I was relieved when I heard it,” Noah said.

  “Relieved,” Alec repeated. “That’s an interesting reaction.”

  “They’re right,” Noah said. “Telling the world that ghosts exist—that they walk among the living and kill people to get energy is a heavy load for the average person to carry.”

  “Sounds like you’ve given this some thought,” Alec said.

  Part of Noah felt like telling Alec about his relationship with Onyx. But another part felt that it would be a violation of her trust—even if they weren’t a couple anymore. Noah decided to keep it to himself. “I’m just saying it’s better to sweep the whole thing under the rug than open a can of worms with the truth,” Noah said.

  “If you say so,” Alec said.

  “Let me ask you a question,” Noah said.

  “Yeah. Shoot.”

  “When I got in the limo, you said we were friends,” Noah said.

  “Did I?” Alec said.

  “You said, ‘That’s what friends are for,’” Noah said. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  “It was a figure of speech,” Alec said. “Then again, you did save my ass in there last night.”

  “Yeah, well, going back for your guitar was a stupid thing to do,” Noah said. “But it wasn’t so stupid you should have died over it.”

  Noah noticed an instant change in Alec’s demeanor and could tell something was on his mind. “What’s up with you? You want to tell me something?”

  “It’s nothing,” Alec said.

  “No, really. If there’s something—”

  “Let’s just enjoy the ride to the airport,” Alec said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Okay?”

  Noah knew something was going on but decided not to push it.

  10:25 A.M. EST

  FRONT DOOR OF THE MULVANEY MANSION

  BUNNY WHITLOCK WAS the last person to be debriefed by the FBI. When they were finished with her, Bruce walked her to the front door of the mansion and helped her on with her coat.

  “I imagine the party didn’t go exactly as you planned,” Bunny Whitlock said. “But I want you to know I still had a lovely evening—even though we each lost someone.”

  “You don’t strike me as all that upset,” Bruce said.

  “Of course I am, darling,” Bunny said. “But you must understand. Warren was my fifth husband. I learned to stop caring after my third. But Declan was your only father. Contrary to my demeanor, I do feel terrible about their deaths. Especially Declan’s. Declan was a wonderful man. In retrospect, if I had better sense, I’d have ditched Warren years earlier and—”

  “Please, Bunny, don’t—I’ve had enough trauma for one day,” Bruce said.

  “Yes, I imagine you’re right,” Bunny said. “The thought of my being your step-mother is deeply disturbing to me as well.”

  2:28 P.M. EST

  BASEMENT OF THE MULVANEY MANSION

  STORMY POINTED HIS flashlight down the stairs that led to the basement as Newt, Maggie, Koda, and Robyn followed behind, each with a flashlight of their own. Though the rest of the house was lit, the basement was completely dark.

  “And this is a dead end?” Newt asked. “There’s
no way out other than the stairs?”

  “That’s right,” Stormy said.

  “And you’re sure he didn’t come back up?” Maggie said.

  “I’m positive” Stormy said. “I checked the tape. He didn’t come back up.”

  Maggie swept her flashlight around the walls of the room, stopping the beam of light on a door in the far wall. “Where does that lead?”

  “Nothing much. Just storage,” Koda said.

  “Show us,” Newt said.

  Koda led the group through the door and stopped once everyone was in the center of the room.

  “Like I said, nothing in here but junk,” Koda said, his flashlight pointing at an old bicycle and several stacks of boxes.

  “Expensive paneling for a storage room,” Maggie said.

  “This used to be my grandfather’s viewing room for his art collection,” Koda said.

  “You mean his stolen art collection,” Newt said.

  “I didn’t realize you knew about that,” Koda said.

  “We’re with the FBI,” Maggie said. “The Mulvaney art bust is one of the most iconic moments in bureau history.”

  “Right up there with Pipi Esperanza’s miraculous survival of the Oklahoma City bombing, I imagine,” Stormy said.

  Maggie and Newt made eye contact, but neither one of them responded.

  “Don’t try to deny it,” Stormy said. “A ghost always knows. We have very sensitive hearing. We can hear someone’s heart beating from across the room. We can also hear when a heart isn’t beating.”

  Newt nodded. “How long have you—?”

  “—been a ghost?” Stormy asked. “Since I died during the World’s Fair in St. Louis in 1904, though I didn’t return to the living plane until 1911.”

  “How did you die?” Robyn asked.

  “From a momentary lapse in judgment,” Stormy said. “I decided to be a hero by saving a dying girl, and I was the one who ended up dead.”

  “Sounds like something to be proud of to me,” Newt said.

  Stormy shrugged. “Pride is one of the seven deadly sins.”

  “Any chance the Southern Gentleman is—?”

  “A ghost? Trust me, he’s not a ghost,” Stormy said. “And even if he were, there’d be no way out of here.”