by Burke, Jan
“Yes. You said Tyler thought it might have been what the burglars were looking for.”
“He found the key and gave it to me. Now is that the act of a dishonest man?”
“It takes more than a key to get into a safe-deposit box. You may not be able to get into it. Do you even know which bank it’s at?” She could hear the pettishness in her own voice, and hated it.
“I know where the box is, of course,” he answered in a steady, quiet voice, one that she knew as a signal of his anger. It was a tone he very rarely used when speaking to her. “Derek added me to the signature card a long time ago. So as soon as I’m well enough to go out, Tyler will take me there. Tyler said that just before Derek died, he mentioned that he wanted me to have whatever is in that safe-deposit box. It was on his mind.”
“Tyler was with Derek just before he died? I don’t ever remember seeing him at the hospital.”
“Oh, were you in charge of the guest book there?”
She sat silently for a moment, looking away from him. Clearly, he thought she was being overly protective. Was she? Maybe, she thought, we need a breather.
“Speaking of guests,” she said, “for a change, I’ll be one. I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’ll be gone this weekend. I’m going out to Rebecca and Brad’s house. Rebecca’s throwing a party.”
“Rudebecca’s? You know Tyler will be there, too?”
“Yes, so you can see I’m not trying to make an enemy of him. He’s my new neighbor, and he’s helping you, so please don’t think I have anything against him.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Who knows? Maybe Rebecca will sink her claws into him and I’ll have her for a neighbor, too.”
“I don’t think you should get your hopes up. He tells me the only reason he’s going is that he has a small property of his own out there and needs to check on it. Doesn’t exactly sound like he’s a man in love, if you ask me. But watch out, Amanda, with all this hanging around Rudebecca—for the first time, you’re starting to act like her.”
She told herself that it was natural for someone who had been so very ill to be a little cranky as he recovered. She should see it as a sign of his returning strength, remember what it was like when he didn’t seem to have any fight left in him, and be glad. She discovered she felt hurt anyway.
“I guess I’ll be going,” she said, and moved to the door.
She opened it, then heard Ron say, “Mandy—Mandy, don’t.”
He hadn’t called her by that childhood name for years. She turned and saw the look of contrition on his face. He was holding a hand out to her. She went back to his bedside and took his hand. He drew her into a hug. “Don’t be angry with me,” he said. “I’m not myself these days, you know I’m not.”
“Shhh. I’m not angry with you. Really I’m not. I’m not myself, either—not getting enough sleep lately.”
They heard the sound of footsteps, and Tyler stepped into the room, saying, “Ron, I wondered if—”
He saw the two of them embracing and quickly said, “Forgive me, I didn’t realize you had company.” He withdrew, apparently not hearing Ron call after him.
Ron looked at Amanda and shrugged. “Stay a little while, okay?”
“Sure,” she said, returning to her chair.
“You said you haven’t had much sleep,” Ron said. “Ghosts bothering you?”
She glanced at the door, making sure it was closed. Ron was the only one she ever talked to about the ghosts. “They seem to be agitated by something. Maybe because I moved into my parents’ bedroom. Although—”
“Although what?”
“They don’t seem unhappy when I’m in there. I mean—they never look happy, but they seem at ease. They don’t linger. Actually, they’re more likely to hang around when I’m outside, or in the car—they show up in the car every time I’m on the way up here.”
“You’ve seen them here?” he asked curiously.
“No, not yet. They vanish before I’m through the front gate.”
“I keep thinking they’ll reveal themselves to me one of these days.”
“I don’t blame you for not believing in them. I’m pretty sure I’ll get over the guilt at some point in my life—”
“You did not cause the car accident that killed your parents and your aunt and uncle!”
“No, I didn’t,” she agreed, not wanting to revive an old argument. “Anyway, like you, I’m not completely sure they’re real. I see them more often in times of stress, after all.”
“Well, you’re not exactly right about my not believing in them. I keep an open mind. Besides, I know that at least in the moments you’re seeing them, they’re real to you. That’s real enough. They don’t threaten you or try to harm you, right?”
“No, never. They startle me, they make me uneasy, but other than the ‘boo!’ factor—you know, after eight years, they don’t really scare me.”
“There’s some purpose to their appearances,” Ron said. “Whether it’s in your imagination or not.”
“I wish they’d get around to telling me what it is so they could go on to wherever they’re going.”
They talked for a while longer, until she saw that he was tiring. So she left, telling him she’d be back to see him soon.
She didn’t see Tyler Hawthorne again that day, or on any of the other occasions when she visited before leaving for the desert.
Ron’s health continued to improve.
The four ghosts came to her room every night, but she was convinced she had made a good choice in relocating. She had never kept the room as a shrine to her dead parents, but until now, she hadn’t made it her own. It was much larger and sunnier than her old one. She could see Tyler Hawthorne’s house from the room’s small balcony.
Despite their increased attention, it wasn’t the ghosts who scared her or robbed her of sleep. Every night, even from upstairs, she heard a dog prowling near the house in the hours after midnight. She tried watching from the balcony, to see if she could catch a glimpse of it, but it remained hidden in the shadows below.
She didn’t tell anyone about it, not even Ron, knowing he was quite worried enough about her seeing ghosts. There wouldn’t be anything he could do about the dog anyway.
She began to look forward to the weekend. Her cousins would be snide, the ghosts would follow her, but she could get away from the dog.
9
Julio Alvarez saw the black Mini Cooper stop before the cemetery gates. It was just after midnight, a time when visiting hours were long over, although if you were the night watchman for a cemetery with its share of movie stars and other famous permanent residents, you never knew who might try to sneak in after dark. But Julio knew this visitor, and unlocked the gates and pulled them open. The driver of the car rolled down the window as he pulled through.
“How are you this evening, Julio?”
“Fine, Tyler. And you?”
“Fine. Thank you for admitting us.”
“Tyler, I owe you so much for—”
“No, no you don’t. Not a thing. I’ll just park over there, all right?”
Julio gave it up. The man would never accept his thanks. “Sure, Tyler, wherever you like.”
Shade didn’t wait for Tyler to open the passenger door—he bounded out of the driver’s side as soon as Tyler was out of the car. Once out, though, he was perfectly calm and well behaved.
“Hello, Shade,” Julio said, giving him soft scratches around his ruff. “I know you want to get to work, so go on.”
Tyler thanked him again and walked off with the dog.
Julio watched them for a few minutes before locking the gate again. Most of the time, the last thing you wanted running around in a cemetery after dark—okay, second to last to a high school kid on a dare—was a dog off leash. They pooped. They peed. They dug. They rolled around in the mud on top of the new graves.
This dog never did any of that. He patrolled the place as if he had some kind of duty. Tyler had explained that he was a c
emetery dog, and Julio supposed there must be darned few of them, because he had never heard of the like. Not that he mentioned these midnight visits to anyone. Would have cost him his job.
This dog wasn’t like any other dog Julio had ever met. Shade had an ability to find graves that needed a little work or had been damaged. It was as if he took that as a personal affront. Well, so did Julio.
Tyler carried a flashlight, but there was nearly a full moon tonight, so he didn’t use it. He walked patiently beside Shade, who was never so happy as when he was working. Tyler didn’t understand all that went on with the dog, despite their long companionship, but he was aware that Shade sensed things in a cemetery that Tyler could not.
The dead were lost to Tyler, but he did not think this was true for Shade. At times, Shade would stop in a cemetery and stand very still, as if he saw something or someone Tyler could not see. Usually, whatever it was would hold the dog’s interest for a time, then he would move on.
On rare occasions, he would growl. Though few things frightened Tyler these days, a growl from Shade always sent a chill down his spine.
Shade seemed to dominate whatever it was, though, for after these encounters he would step a little higher on his toes, as if exhibiting a kind of dog pride in a job well done.
Tyler found himself thinking of Colby again, of his odd visit. He wondered if he had failed to hear the real message, if Colby was growing lonely and could bring that up only by accusing Tyler of it. There were serious differences between them, ones that made Tyler unwilling to spend a lot of time with him. In truth, Shade was a better friend.
They were strolling through a particularly old part of the cemetery—always Shade’s favorite place to be in any graveyard—when Tyler’s cell phone rang. The dog looked back at him in annoyance.
“I agree,” Tyler said, “but then, if someone is calling me now, I should take it, don’t you think?”
Shade sighed and kept moving.
Tyler answered the call.
“Mr. Hawthorne? This is Samuel Gunning. I—uh, I don’t know if you remember me.”
“Of course I do, Mr. Gunning.”
His business in St. Louis had been to help a dying man named Max Derley, who wanted desperately to convey news to Mr. Gunning—the boy being raised as Max’s son was in fact wealthy Samuel Gunning’s son. Gunning had been shocked, and then pleased. When Tyler left the city, Gunning was talking to the boy’s mother—an old flame—about caring for the two of them.
“I’m sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Hawthorne, but here in Max’s notes, it says it’s best to call you at this time of night.”
“Please call me Tyler. Max was correct about the time to call. How are you this evening?”
“Yes, well, you call me Sam—and I’m fine. I can’t thank you enough for that, although I’m still not sure how—”
“I can’t really explain it myself. What can I do for you now, Sam?”
“Well, Tyler, I just wanted to let you know that someone at the hospital where Max died has gossiped a bit, and as will happen with gossip, didn’t get the story quite right. To make a long story short, I’ve got some relatives out there in California who never had a snowflake’s chance in hell of inheriting my money, but they’ve taken it into their crazy heads that you cooked up some plot with Max to trick me into changing my will.”
“You’ll pardon me for asking this, but are you so certain they’re wrong?”
“I have never been more certain of anything. He’s my boy.”
“You’ve had DNA tests done?”
“Don’t need them. One look at him is enough. Besides, I know what I know.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Tyler, I’ve had to hire bodyguards to look after all of us here, at least until I can convince the law to do something about these folks, but I’m afraid they may also be after you. I wanted you to be on guard. I promise I’ll attend to it just as soon as I can.”
“I’m not afraid for my own sake, Sam, but I do have a friend living with me at the moment, and I would like to ensure his safety.”
“Can I offer you help from my security service?”
“I have one of my own, thanks. I do need to know more about these relatives, though. Give me whatever information you think will be helpful.”
“You have e-mail?”
Tyler gave him his e-mail address.
“Great. I’ll send something to you right away. You have any questions, just give me a call.”
Tyler thanked him and hung up.
Shade was watching him.
“You heard?”
The dog wagged his tail.
“Do you stay with Ron or come with me to the desert?”
Shade made a tight circle around him.
“All right, then I’d better call Danton’s Security. In fact, until Danton’s is able to show up, I probably shouldn’t leave Ron and his medical team alone at the house—”
But Shade had anticipated his concern, and was headed toward the car at a brisk trot.
10
Late Friday night, Amanda drove down a dark desert road, asking herself why in the hell she had thought she’d ever enjoy herself for a minute at this or any other of her cousins’ parties.
Well, she thought, I take that back. She had enjoyed herself for a few minutes. A really good-looking guy named Colby had spent time talking to her. It hadn’t taken long for one of Rebecca’s friends to butt in on the conversation, though. Colby had given Amanda a rueful look and excused himself to go have a cigarette. She saw him talking to Brad on his way out, doubtless making an excuse for leaving early. And even if he had the good sense to exit Rebecca’s party before she did, besides being a smoker, she could tell he was a player, so she didn’t take his momentary interest in her to mean a thing.
After that, things went downhill. She had forgotten how boring it was to be nearly the only sober person at a party full of heavy drinkers and pot smokers. She had tried not to think of the last time she had been at such a party—the holiday evening that had left her an orphan with a roomful of ghosts. She did her best to cope with Rebecca’s party until the more exotic drugs came out. She knew they were probably commonplace at Rebecca’s wild weekends, but she didn’t think she could enjoy herself if everyone else around her was loaded. She decided to leave. Rebecca saw her leaving and intercepted her at the door.
“Thanks for inviting me, Rebecca, but—well, I think I’d better be going.”
“You are the most boring thing, Amanda. But I don’t think I can take another five minutes of looking at that outfit anyway. Where did you find anything with pockets that big? The length of the top is all wrong for you—it makes your butt look like the back end of a battleship—”
“Gee, why on earth wouldn’t I want to stick around to hear more of this?” Amanda said, noticing that Rebecca had an audience now—an amused audience. “Good night, Rebecca.”
Brad hurried up to them. “Wait! Wait! Amanda, you can’t leave yet!”
“Watch me.”
“No, stay a little while longer.”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
It appeared to her that Brad didn’t really have an answer, but then he smiled and said, “There’s someone here who has been asking about you!” He took her elbow and steered her away from the door.
Did he mean Colby? she wondered. Maybe he hadn’t left.
She allowed Brad to lead her toward a group standing near the bar. Suddenly she heard Rebecca squeal, “Tyler!”
She turned to see Tyler Hawthorne doing his best to resist Rebecca’s attempt to cling to him.
Not that she could blame her cousin. He was dressed in jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a leather jacket. Casual, but he made it look as elegant as a tux. He was glancing around the room, saw Amanda, and smiled.
She smiled back, raised her hand in a little wave, felt like an idiot, and turned away.
To come face-to-face with a nightmare.
She hadn’t seen Todd Norenbecker in eight years. Not since the night that her parents, and Brad and Rebecca’s parents, had died in a car accident. It also happened to be the night of a neighborhood Christmas party. And the night she lost her virginity to Todd.
They had been dating for a teenage eternity—three months. Todd had spent most of that time begging her to give it up to him. He had sworn undying devotion to her in the same breath with which he had said he would have to find a more “mature” girlfriend if she wouldn’t have sex with him. Being incurably honest with herself, later she had owned up to the fact that she had never loved Todd any more than he had loved her. Curiosity and hormones—and for her, a long-since-abandoned, but then oh-so-strong desire to fit in—had driven her to experiment that night. An experiment that had never inspired her to try it again.
The accident that killed her parents severely injured Amanda, and she had spent several weeks in the hospital. Todd never visited her, never called, didn’t do so much as send her a text message saying, “Sorry about your parents.” Ron, who had always disliked Todd, had been by her side as often as possible.
“You remember Todd!” Brad was saying.
Todd smiled smugly.
“No,” she said, “I don’t think there’s any reason I should.”
Brad looked startled and uneasy, and she realized in that moment that Brad probably didn’t know much of how her history with Todd had ended—Brad’s parents had also died in that accident, and understandably, any thought of Amanda’s love life and breakups at that time wouldn’t have registered on anyone else’s radar.
She started to turn away, but Todd grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her toward him.
“Hey!” Brad protested.
Todd ignored him. She could smell the booze on Todd’s breath, and tried to squirm away from him. Painfully tightening his grip on her shoulder, he said in a loud voice, “Don’t know me, Amanda? What a liar. I was your first and you know it! You begged me for it—”
“Take your hands off her,” a commanding voice interrupted. “Apologize, and then shut the hell up.”
