by Dale Mayer
It was going to take several hours to recover. A side effect of ending up in such a state meant it took all her energy to keep functioning.
What she really needed to do was crash. When she didn’t listen to her body, her system had been known to take over and make that happen regardless of her wishes.
Today’s multiple shocks had been so horrific…
When she found Jericho at her desk waiting for her, that had been one, but seeing him in the park and listening to his hypothesis of the murder of the old man…that was yet another. The final and most debilitating had been entering the damn hovel of a house and finding the energy of yet another victim.
She’d waited for this moment for a hell of a long time. She wanted that revenge so badly it was the sustenance that kept her going throughout each and every day. Hate was like that.
Now she had proof of her nemesis. She almost laughed at that. Not anything she could show anyone else though. Except maybe Jericho.
But he already knew. He’d tried to tell her. But she hadn’t been willing to listen to him. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. The Ghost was back.
Her initial euphoria was gone, leaving desolation in its wake.
She collapsed on the side of her bed, staring at her hands. She could already see his blood drop from her fingers. How was it that as a cop all she could think about was taking the man’s neck in her hands and ripping out his throat?
Tremors wracked her spine. She flopped backwards onto the bed and that’s where Solomon found her a few minutes later. The huge Maine Coon with the missing tail and half ear hopped up beside her and lay down on her belly. He stretched from her pelvis to breast. And there he’d stay until she awoke – guarding her from intruders – on both sides of the ghostly divide.
She closed her eyes and slept.
Disoriented and icy cold she jerked awake, pulling out from the sleepy slumber she’d been in.
And cried out in distress. A gray, foggy world surrounded her, blocking her sight and cloaking her senses. Absent of sound, smell, and other sensations she reached out and pinched her cheek.
And felt nothing.
She screamed, loud and hard, her mind hearing the noise, her ears registering nothing. As she knew they wouldn’t.
Not here. There was nothing good about this place except if you wanted to hide. Yet, because she couldn’t see anything anywhere she’d always been terrified he was there like he had been before – standing just outside the fog and knowing full well she was inside the cloudy bubble – toying with her.
This was a place where nightmares were created.
And she had enough of those fucking things.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to stay in control. She was no longer twelve years old. She was no longer a prisoner in a house with the bodies of her dead family strewn around her.
No, she was a survivor, with one goal left in life. That one burning light that kept her moving forward day by day – to avenge her family’s slaughter and kill the bastard who destroyed her world.
It was her childhood fear that had brought her here. And it was that same fear that was keeping her here.
She just had to remember who she was. And who he was.
When she woke up a second time, it was all she could do to not cry. But right now, the relief of having returned to the normal world and not stuck in that horror show brought tears welling up from deep inside so hot and acidic they burned at the corners.
Like hell…she reached up and scrubbed her face – hard. She had to hold it together. The only way she knew how was to stuff everything that bothered her deep inside. Those upsets destroyed her. Drained her of energy. It had to stop. Jericho. It had started with his visit. And the sexual energy that flowed through her. She couldn’t afford the distraction. To have her energy split. It was too dangerous. He was dangerous. He also represented something she couldn’t have. Not now. Maybe never. No matter how much she wanted to. There was only one option. She closed her eyes and pulled and pushed the frazzled energy, the sexual energy and the confusion, and stomped it deep inside.
The same place she’d shoved the other nightmares. Taking a bullet was easier than being in that nightmare. And because her subconscious accessed them without her permission, that lack of control gave them more power. She hated to think shit happened when she was at her weakest. That there was no way to guard against what came from inside.
Hence the lack of sleep in her life. If she couldn’t trust the very hours when she was out of control, how did she let go of it again?
Dry-eyed again, she tried to roll over only to find she couldn’t.
“Solomon, get your fat ass off me.” She glared at the supersized feline who gazed back calmly. He wouldn’t give an inch until she calmed down. She’d had this out with him before. And somehow he always won. If she believed in witches or vampires then she’d have understood his role in life was really that of a familiar. But as she didn’t…that left her with one cranky and very lazy pet.
With a tightening of her abs she sat up, forcing him to grab on or slide down. Thankfully he chose the latter. Her skin had already taken a beating today. But the one her soul had taken was way worse.
Still, now that all the emotions were shoved down in the heart chakra where they belonged, she felt a lot better.
After a hot shower she made her way to the kitchen. Her stomach had begun screaming at her as soon as she’d stepped under the water, looking for her to take care of its needs too.
Except her kitchen was empty. Her fridge was bare and the garbage was ready to walk out on its own.
Shit. She grabbed up the menu from the Red Dragon, a small takeout place right around the corner. A Chinese couple ran the small hole in the wall, offering the best soups in town. Within seconds she had a double sized bowl ordered.
“You need more than soup,” Vitus said.
“No, soup will be fine.” She went through this conversation every time. She could just go downstairs and sit in the small restaurant, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. This was her best option.
The doorbell rang moments later, the sound louder than the dying gasps from her coffee maker as a fresh pot dripped. Walking over to the door, hand on her weapon, old habits died hard after all, she looked through the peephole. Vitus was on the other side.
She opened it with a smile and stared at the overly large container. “I said soup was fine.”
He shook his head. “You must eat.”
He shoved food into her hands and walked away. Rapidly, as he did everything in his world. She could appreciate efficiency but he forgot to ask for payment – again. “Hey, you didn’t ask for money again.”
“No money – not from you.” And he disappeared around the corner.
So what if she’d saved his restaurant from being robbed. Besides she’d only stopped a robbery in progress once. He was going to drive the place under if he didn’t charge.
Frowning at the man’s generosity and feeling like a fraud for accepting the food, she carried it into the kitchen. With a sweep of her arm she dumped the pizza boxes to the floor to clear a place.
A housekeeper she was not. The aroma wafted out the open bag as she rummaged for a clean bowl. Not finding one she gave up, grabbed a spoon and returned to eat out of the containers. She could hear her mother scream at her lack of manners.
Opening the first box she found it full of noodles mixed with vegetables. She liked veggies just fine, but Vitus seemed to think she never ate any as he was forever adding them to her orders against her wishes. If she wanted veggies she’d have ordered some.
Still, they did look good. She picked out a chunk of broccoli and ate it. Lord, that was yummy. Before she knew it she’d polished off half the dish without having even looked at the rest of the food. The good thing was there was enough for several days. She could push her shopping off yet again.
Solomon hopped up on the chair beside her and stared at her in that serious unblinking way of his.
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“Don’t even think about it,” she warned him.
That gaze locked on her face, compelling her to feed him.
“Fine, but if it gives you a belly ache I don’t want to hear about it.” She fished out a chunk of chicken and placed it on the table.
He started to eat it then stopped and his ears went back.
She bolted from the table and grabbed her weapon again.
If there was one thing she knew, Solomon’s instincts were dead on.
*
The Ghost watched as the Chinese deliveryman returned to the small restaurant beside Tavika’s building. Poor child. She really hadn’t done well for herself after all. He’d kept tabs on her throughout the years. For all of five minutes the thought of her in law enforcement had sent a chill down to his soul, but he got over it quickly. Still, it was a credit to the rotten salary she collected that she lived in this shack of a building.
Her mother and sister had both been stunners with Tavika taking the ugly duckling position of the family. Apparently she hadn’t even managed to catch a man and move up in life that way. Why anybody would want to spend their lifetime hunting down bad guys was beyond him. Such a boring occupation.
So much more fun to be one of the bad guys and outsmart the cops. Although that was getting to be a tad too easy as well. Still, it was her passion for takeout food that made it easier to pinpoint where she was. That and the fact he’d managed to hack into the system to get information on her.
And access her own laptop from her login.
So simple when you knew what you were doing.
Plus, it was damn near impossible for anyone to hide in the days of the internet. Except him. But hiding in plain sight was always a much better idea.
He strolled around to the corner of the restaurant and let himself in. It was so small it was almost painfully poor. He knew they barely made the rent every month. He could buy this place out in a heartbeat. Hell, he could buy the entire block. Wouldn’t that be fun? He could actually own the apartment where his victim hid. At that his face broke into a smile. The lady at the front counter said, “Can I help you?”
Too bad he was working hard at turning over a new leaf. He’d like to cut those yellow teeth right out of her mouth. Instead, he gave her a pleasant smile and ordered. “I’ll have a double bowl of wonton soup to go, please.”
He paid for the order while her husband, who apparently was also the deliveryman, how cliché was that, made up his order. When it was ready she handed it to him. Back outside he really didn’t want soup. Pondering his next move he walked across the street and studied the apartment where she lived. He had two categories of victims. Those that were decided on ahead of time and the ones that were the spur of the moment. He liked to be methodical even with those.
The planned ones he researched until he knew them inside out. The others, well…they were like his ice cream, a daily dose of cheer victims. But he was weaning himself off these, or trying. Part of his turning over a new leaf. As for his planned victims, he had his list and was going down it, marking them off – one way or the other. These were the loose threads he couldn’t leave alone just in case they unraveled and did him damage in the nice rosy future he had planned. He’d taken out two in this last week alone. Not that anyone would know. Tavika was there but she was number seven.
He was methodical. And refused to move up his agenda. But he’d have to make a decision about her soon.
*
Jericho paced his hotel room. Why was she so damn stubborn? She hadn’t had to go inside that house.
No one had forced her to go in there.
If she’d listened to him, she’d be doing a lot better tonight. He knew she was a psychic of some kind and had to know it – at least somewhat. And therefore she would’ve picked up the spirit of the Ghost’s latest victim. And that was just going to trigger bad memories for her.
Stubborn. She was just so damn stubborn. The phone rang beside him. He stared at it. It was the hotel phone not his cell. Snatching it up, he said, “Hello?”
“We have a delivery for you. It’s down here at the front counter.”
He sucked in his breath in complete shock. “What kind of delivery?”
“It’s Chinese food from a local restaurant.”
He straightened, his gaze swinging to the outside windows. “It must be a mistake. I didn’t order any Chinese food.”
“There’s no mistake. The delivery is for Jericho Sands.”
Damn.
“Do you want us to send it up or are you coming down here to pick it up?”
The last thing he wanted was to have the package up here. His mind was already sorting through potential donors to see who might’ve sent this. None of the answers that came up were good. Whoever sent it knew he was here. And that meant his position was compromised.
Double damn. “Leave it down there. I’ll be checking out in a few minutes, and I’ll collect it then.”
As she protested his sudden checkout, he hung up and glanced around the room. He was packed and walking downstairs to the front desk within minutes. Sure enough the takeout Chinese food bag sat on the counter. There was an itemized receipt and the name of the restaurant stapled to the top of the plastic bag. Without touching the offending item he read the name of the restaurant and took note of the address. It was on the same street where Tavika lived.
He smiled. Had she sent him dinner? As he paid for his room, pocketed the receipt and the rest of his cash, he studied the contents once again. Should he take it with him?
“Don’t forget to take your dinner. The man was quite insistent.” The receptionist smiled up at him.
“Man?” he asked cautiously.
The receptionist nodded. “Yes, a slightly older man, well dressed in a three-piece suit. He wanted to make sure you got it for your dinner. He said you were hungry after all the hunting and searching you had to do. And as a friend he wanted to make sure you looked after yourself.”
Jericho’s face hardened. Bastard. In a smooth move he picked up the Chinese food, walked it over to the closest garbage, and dumped the entire thing in. “Thanks. If you see him again let him know what I did with it.”
And he turned and walked out into the night.
Chapter 6
When the doorbell rang, Tavika froze, gun in hand. Who was out there? It rang again. Then Jericho called out, “Tavika, let me in. I have developments.”
She frowned and stared down at the weapon in her hand. “So what if you have a development? What does that have to do with me?”
“I’m not telling you while I stand out in the hallway,” he said in exasperation. “Let me in.”
More a demand than a request, but compelling nonetheless. She quickly released the deadbolts – all three of them – and opened the door. As she pulled it open she studied the man who was still too well dressed for her liking. How the hell did he pull off that swab debonair kind of look even when he was carrying a bag that appeared to be an overnight travel case, yet was also the right size to be a weapon’s case? She nodded at the bag and said, “Going somewhere?”
He snorted and brushed past her. “Finding a new place to stay apparently.”
She slammed the door shut and turned to face him. “Just don’t get any ideas that you’re staying here.”
“Oh, I got it. You don’t like visitors. And you sure as hell don’t like strangers.”
His assessment was cold, cutting, and very true. Anger radiated from him.
Tough shit, she wasn’t happy either. She walked to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table. Chinese food was still everywhere.
He reached out for the delivery bag and read the label. “Red Dragon?” He sat down heavily on the chair. “Son of a bitch.”
In spite of herself she was curious. “What’s the matter?”
“I received a delivery tonight, from somebody who said he understood how hard I was hunting and needed to make sure I ate well. It w
as a bowl of wonton soup from this restaurant. Only my hotel is several blocks away.”
She studied his face, her mind going click, click, click. Still she had no intention of jumping to conclusions. In a neutral tone she said, “So. It’s good Chinese food.”
“No matter how good the Chinese food is, the chances of it being well-known blocks away from here is not good.”
She shrugged. “If I lived several blocks away I’d still order.”
“That doesn’t say much about your taste buds.”
She slammed her coffee cup down and glared at him. “If you just came here to insult me and my food choices get the hell out.”
He leaned forward. “You’re missing the point. I know exactly who sent the delivery, and he sent it from your favorite restaurant to me.” He snorted. “Chances are it’s also your favorite dish.”
Their gazes clashed hot and heated, both of them trying to ignore the pulsing primal urge that wafted through the air. Like an elastic that had been snapped too far, both sat back and broke eye contact. Tavika picked up her coffee and took a big gulp. After a moment, when she felt able to trust her voice, she said, “You think it was him?”
“I know it was.”
Very gently she set her cup down on the table. She really wanted to throw it against the wall and scream and kick something. Preferably Jericho. “You’re telling me he was actually in your hotel, yet you didn’t see him? And you didn’t go after him?”
“No, he was at the reception desk of the hotel while I was in my room. I did not see him. And it would be very nice to go after him, but there’s a reason why he’s called the Ghost, remember?”
Of course she remembered. It was because he left no tracks and used multiple disguises. The end result was law enforcement had nothing to go on. Even if they confiscated the video cameras, if there were any, the Ghost would no longer look the way he had in the video.
“He’s been watching you.”
Her gaze flew back up to his in shock. Slowly she shook her head.
