Fugue Macabre: Ghost Dance (Fugue Macabre Trilogy Book 1)

by C. J. Parker

  Bile rushed up the back of Tabatha’s throat, so bitter it made her gag. Her breath caught in a choking sob. No. Her mother couldn’t send her away. This was her home.

  Tabatha jumped from her chair, ran to her mother’s side and grasped at Carla’s red, silk skirt. “No Mommy. Don’t send me away. I’ll be good. Please. I want to stay here.”

  Carla’s eyes narrowed. “I told you to sit still and be quiet. You can’t even do something as simple as that.” She shoved Tabatha away with one hand while calmly smoothing wrinkles from her skirt with the other. “You are your father’s daughter,” she said as if it were an insult. She took long angry strides toward the casket holding Raoul Gray’s remains. “I hope you rot in hell, you old bastard. You can’t protect her now. And you can’t keep me from my money.”

  Tabatha’s blood ran cold. Her mother could send her away without a care, but God forbid someone should threaten to take away her true love— money.

  Grandpa Raoul’s lawyer, Dan Langton, stood beside the coffin. “The reading of the will is tomorrow, Carla. You might be surprised what the ‘old bastard’ left to whom.”

  Carla swirled around, facing the man. “What will?” The second word escaped in a low growl of anger.

  A slow grin lifted Langton’s lips. “He left everything to Tabatha except the caretaker’s house.” He turned and nodded a greeting to Nyssa. “You can live there for as long as you desire, and I’m to see to it that your salary and utilities are paid.”

  Tabatha wanted to shout at the man. She didn’t want her grandfather’s money—she wanted him. She needed someone she loved to be alive, to protect her, to love her back. Tabatha started to say she’d live with Nyssa, Nyssa wouldn’t mind. Nyssa loved her.

  Carla raised her chin in the air, gritted her teeth and snarled. “I’m Tabatha’s mother. She’s just a child. I’ll have control of the money.”

  Tabatha stomped her foot. “Give it to her. I don’t want it.”

  Langton shook his head in a slow glide from side to side. “It’s in a trust until you turn eighteen, Tabatha. Carla, you can’t touch it. Only the executor can decide how money is spent.”

  Maybe her mother would love her then—if she could get Mr. Langton to give up the money.

  Carla stepped closer to Langton. “Whom did the old man give this power to?”

  “I’m not at liberty to divulge that, but I can assure you, Carla, it’s not you.”

  Carla spun around to face the crowd. “Ten years I put up with his son. Ten years! Then he up and dies on me, leaving me with this devil child. I earned that money. All of it. It’s mine!” A gasp rose from the mourners. Hands flew to mouths. Eyes widened as they stared at Carla.

  Nyssa, her grandfather’s groundskeeper, stepped up behind Tabatha and whispered, “It’s okay, child.”

  Carla looked around wildly. “You.” She pointed toward Tabatha. “Why should you have any of it? What have you ever done to earn it? They’ll know what you are! I’ll tell them! Everyone will know.” She rushed forward.

  Nyssa stepped closer to Tabatha, pulling her into a fierce hug. “Get away from her!”

  Nearby, men from the crowd of mourners restrained Carla, but she continued to scream and claw at the air. “I’ll kill you!

  “Carla.” Langton stepped between her and Tabatha. “Stop this. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

  “It’s okay, baby,” Nyssa cooed in Tabatha’s ear. “She can’t hurt you.”

  A rush of icy air swept up Tabatha’s back. Be careful, Tabatha, her grandfather’s voice warned. She rid herself of your father and now me. She will not stop until she has it all.

  Tabatha twisted herself out of the old woman’s arms, whipping around to face her mother. “You killed him!” A sharp pain ripped at her heart and red- hot rage intertwined with fear, hurt and confusion. “No one would listen. I tried to tell them you killed Daddy. Now you’ve killed Paw-Paw.”

  Carla wrenched one arm free of her captor’s grips, swung her hand outward making contact with Tabatha’s cheek. The force of her slap sent Tabatha to the ground. A wail of unbridled fury roared though Tabatha’s clenched teeth as her gaze slowly rose to meet her mother’s.

  Carla struggled to free herself from the tight grips holding her arms again. Her howls of anger quickly turned to choked and gargled moans. Carla’s body stiffened and trembled with violent spasms.

  Tabatha visualized Paw-Paw lifting the casket open, stepping out and taking her into his arms. She willed it to be.

  The crowd gasped as the casket began to shake, nearly tumbling from its stand.

  “Tabatha,” Nyssa shouted. “No!”

  Tabatha spun around coming face to face with Nyssa, then pulled back the power. Its release left her feeling empty and unsatisfied. The air crackled with the power, sending sparks of static electricity bouncing from metal chair to chair. She darted her gaze to her mother, wishing Carla to experience the torment she’d caused. But instead Tabatha released her power’s control over Carla. Everyone knew. Everyone had seen the side Tabatha had seen all her life.

  Carla fell limp and gasped for air. Did the Gray magic have the power to steal the breath from someone? Tabatha didn’t know, and now, she had no one to ask.

  Tabatha’s rage slowly subsided, and the casket stilled. A sorrowful cry escaped her throat. The mourners’ gazes moved from Carla to her. Their eyes widened, mouths gaped they turned and fled as if they’d seen the Devil herself. Maybe they had. Tabatha closed her eyes. What had she done? She had wanted to hurt Carla for hurting her, but instead she had shown the world what a monster she herself was. Only when she heard her grandfather’s voice again, did she look up.

  You must learn to control the magic, or evil will claim it and control you.

  Tabatha gradually let go of the past. She rubbed her cheek, still could feel the sting of that slap so many years before. She turned her head and glanced at Derek, thankful she didn’t see contempt in his returned gaze. “Do you see why I wanted to tell you? This thing, this magic I have inside me can be evil. I’ve fought against it, nearly mastered it. Rhonda came to me needing my help. Then you and the children. I see, now, that it can be used for good. But, Derek, like sanity and insanity, evil and good is divided by a thin line. I fear what I’ll become if I ever cross over that line. I could lose you forever. I could lose me.” Her pulse beat a painful rhythm inside her temples. She knew the madness lurked in the foreground, waiting for her to weaken so it could take control. It’s why she had fought so hard, so long to deny what she was.

  He turned her to face him and pulled her into his arms. The offered comfort knocked down what little bit was left of the wall she’d built around herself all these years. She needed to let someone in, needed someone to love and love her in return. Tabatha wanted that someone to be Derek.

  “There’s no evil in you, Tabatha.”

  She brushed her lips over his, then across his face to his ear. “Sometimes it’s easier to be alone, but it’s never better. I’ve been waiting all my life to find you. And you don’t want me. What am I to do?”

  Derek’s body stiffened in her arms.

  Tabatha ran a soft trail down his arm with her fingertips stopping at his hand, and with gentle persuasion guided his large palm to her breast.

  This time, Derek didn’t hesitate.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Derek woke before sunrise to find himself in a strange bed with Tabatha snuggled so close it was hard to tell where she began and he ended. Her head lay cradled between his chin and his shoulder, her breath trailing a warm flow of sexually charged air over his left nipple.

  The night before came rushing back in a flood of memories. The warmth of her touch as she ran her fingertips down his back, the sound of her voice whispering encouragement and soft words of affection. Her skin still released the soft scents of roses and natural musk and once again filled him with longing, need, affection for someone other than his Lizzie—all the emotions he’d held back for so
long.

  He drew his head back, brushed a lock of hair away from her face and marveled at her beauty while she slept. “Why, Tabatha? You could have anyone you want. Why me?”

  Tabatha stirred against him, her fingertips trailing over his chest. His body betrayed him, growing hard, his breath catching in his throat and the drumming of his heart so loud it roared inside his ears.

  “Because we were meant to be together. I knew it when I sensed your presence in the cemetery that night. I knew it before I saw your face.”

  He released a rush of breath. He’d promised Elizabeth to find her killer, but did that mean he couldn’t go on with his life in the meantime? He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this—touching, talking, giving, making love to someone who wanted him. But there was more to it than that. “I don’t know how this can work. I’m a cop, Tabatha. Always have been, always will be. I’ve seen what the job does to relationships. Their women worry about them, nag them to quit. Cops get killed every day.”

  She lifted her head off his shoulder and smiled. “I’ll just raise you from the dead.” He rolled his eyes at what he hoped was a joke, as she giggled and turned to look at the clock. “Damn, Derek, it’s four in the morning.”

  He smiled and sat up, sliding his feet off the bed and onto the cold floor. “Where’s the john?”

  Tabatha pointed to a door in the corner of the room. “It’s only a half bath. If you’re looking for a shower, it’s down the hall on the right.”

  “This will do.” Derek pulled on his briefs before making his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He turned on the light wincing at the sudden brightness of the room. He frowned at his refection in the mirror over the sink. Looking back at him was a worn out cop, too old for his years, and the biggest fool he’d ever known. A fool who wanted Tabatha more than he wanted to admit. “What the hell are you doing, Bainbridge? She’s just a kid. You can’t do this. An affair with Tabatha is out of the question.”

  He’d tried after Elizabeth’s murder to go on, but he was a failure at relationships. He glanced back at his reflection in the mirror and shook his head. “It’s too late, and you know it. She’s got you by the balls.” He chuckled at his choice of words. Truth be told she had him by the balls, heart and soul. He was falling in love with a woman eleven years his junior. This was so wrong on so many levels. He relieved himself, flushed the toilet and washed his hands, giving himself one more look. “Stupid son-of-a-bitch.”

  He walked toward the bed and glanced out the window just as a car screeched to a halt on the street below. His body tensed and his instincts kicked into overdrive. The barrel of a rifle slid through the passenger side window.

  Tabatha jumped from the bed and ran toward the window. “What’s wrong? Who’s out there?”

  “Stay down!” He reached for his gun on the nightstand just as the repeat of a weapon firing rent the air.

  Tabatha screamed his name and dove toward him. She hit him with a full body slam as the window blew out and ceiling plaster sprayed them with dust and glass.

  He landed on the floor with a jolt. Tabatha landed on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs. The world slowed to an easy spin, sounds of shouting drifted from the hallway, followed by the door swinging open with a crash.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Derek swung the gun instinctively toward the sound, lowering it just as quickly at the sight of Carla standing in the doorway. Her face shifted from red-faced anger to color-draining shock then back again.

  “Tabatha, you little tramp, get some clothes on!” Carla stumbled a few steps away from them. “Wait.” She placed her hand on her forehead, her gaze darting from Tabatha to Derek. “No. You’re not supposed to be in here. Where are that girl and her son?”

  Tabatha glanced up at her mother. “I gave her Grandfather’s suite.” Fear twisted Derek’s gut. He stood and reached down to pull Tabatha from the floor. What had Carla done and why? “Someone call the police.”

  “I’ll call them.” Rhonda’s voice drifted in from the hallway.

  “Why, Mother?” Tabatha sat up, bending her knees to cover her nakedness.

  Carla shook her head as if trying to gather her thoughts before speaking. “Tabatha isn’t supposed to be with you, Derek. Frank said...”

  “Frank?” Derek eyed her with growing suspicions. Frank again. How was he involved in this mess and why? “What did you mean, she wasn’t supposed to be here? What do you know about this? And what has Frank got to do with it?”

  “Mother, what have you done?” The tears glistening in Tabatha’s eyes raised the hair on the back of Derek’s neck. He’d had enough of Carla and her games.

  He narrowed his eyes. “What are you mixed up in?”

  Carla’s eyes filled with red-hot hatred, her mouth formed a hard line. “Whore! I want you and the rest of this trash out of my house. I don’t want you here.”

  It took every ounce of control Derek could garner not to knock the woman on her ass. “You best watch your mouth, woman.”

  “It’s okay, Derek.” Tabatha stood, pulled her robe from the foot of the bed and slipped it on. “Mother, I’m going nowhere. This is my home. I own this house. My friends can stay as long as they please. If anyone’s going to leave, it’ll be you. I’ll buy you another house, something smaller and easier to take care of if you’d like.” Tabatha pulled the belt of the robe so hard Derek knew it had to cause her pain.

  Carla’s hands fisted, and her mouth dropped open with a gasp. “I’m not the one leaving. That’s the end of this conversation.”

  “No, mother, it isn’t. We are staying. You’re the one who has to make a decision.”

  Carla turned away. “I don’t have to put up with this. I’ll just have you evicted.”

  “Can’t do that, Ms. Gray. Tabatha owns the house. The deed is in her name.” Carla snapped her mouth closed. Derek replayed the scene over in his mind. The gun’s blast, the window spraying them with glass, the ceiling exploding, and Carla’s words. He raised his hand. “Hold on. Mrs. Gray, I asked you a couple of questions.”

  Carla ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “I’m going back to my room. I’ll not be treated like this.”

  Derek laughed, the sound bitter and angry even to his own ears. “You won’t like the holding cell downtown, ma’am. You really need to answer my questions.”

  Carla grasped her throat. “You wouldn’t. You can’t.”

  He took a step forward. “I would. I can. I will.” The skin on Derek’s face tightened, and his jaw cramped from the tight clench of his teeth.

  “Derek?” Tabatha gently touched his arm.

  He drew him arm back, not wanting her warmth to take away the cold anger pushing him to get answers. “Not now, Tabatha. Mrs. Gray?”

  “They want that girl.” Carla’s eyes darted from Derek back to Tabatha. She swallowed several times before speaking again. “All I did was tell them what bedroom that girl and her son were in. They said they’d kill all of us if they had to.”

  Tabatha slapped her hand to her chest and her mouth formed a perfect O. “No. This has got to stop.”

  Carla raised her chin in the air, glaring down her nose at Tabatha. “You see what you’ve brought down on us?”

  Tabatha stiffened and turned her gaze away from her mother’s glare.

  Derek stepped toward her, the sound of his teeth grating loud in his ears.

  “You and your demon friends. I don’t want you here. Why won’t you leave me alone?” Carla twisted the sash of her robe into a tight knot. The shrill wail of police sirens rent the air. Derek quickly pulled on his pants and shirt and ran his fingers through his hair. This was going to be good. A homicide detective at a shooting scene. What was he going to say? Hell, he had no real idea what had happened. “I’ll meet them downstairs. I want to talk to them first. They’ll be more comfortable talking to one of their own at first. You two put this off until later. The cops don’t care about your personal problems.” He f
ixed Carla with a scowl wanting her to see his intense rage at her actions. “I’m not finished talking to you. Do you realize Tabatha could have been killed?”

  Carla rolled her eyes. “But she wasn’t, was she? Why is that, Tabatha? Magic?” Carla scoffed. “Evil. Evil magic. Just like them. I should have taken care of you before you were born.”

  Derek’s gaze shot to Tabatha, but she shrugged. He guessed she’d grown immune to her mother’s callousness but he hadn’t. “This is the last time I’m going to warn you ahead of time, Carla. Shut your mouth before I do it for you.”

  Carla glared at Derek. “Has she told you about her curse? Do you want to be with a witch? She’ll drag you down to Hell with her, Derek. Even I would make you a better wife.” A strange smile lifted her lips.

  He laughed before he could stop his reaction. “Mrs. Gray, that wouldn’t have happened even if I’d never met Tabatha.”

  Carla’s smile vanished as she turned to leave. “Oh, I don’t want you. It’s just that Frank said you’re only using Tabatha. You’re still in love with a dead woman. But Tabatha already has a spell on you. You just don’t realize it.”

  The song Voodoo Woman rushed though his head bringing a smile to his lips. “That’s fine with me, Mrs. Gray. It couldn’t be any worse than the hell I’ve lived for the last twenty years.”

  Tabatha sighed. “Mother.”

  Carla stopped with her back to Tabatha. “What?”

  “What’s it to be?” Tabatha moved up to stand behind Carla. “New house or accept that I’m not leaving? Your choice.”

  “This is my home. It’s mine.” Carla stomped her foot like a spoiled child. “You cannot take it from me. I’ll kill you before I let that happen.”

  Carla glanced over her shoulder, the look she gave Tabatha ran dread down Derek’s spine. Carla hurried down the hallway, slamming the door to her bedroom behind her.

  Loud banging came from downstairs. Derek draped his arms around Tabatha shoulders. “I have to go. Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m fine. I grew up with her outbursts. We haven’t seen the worst from her yet. I fear we will, though.” She stepped away and smiled, but he saw the unshed tears glistening in her eyes.