by Debra Glass
So, Lynn had orchestrated all this merely to offer Benton up to the soul collectors? Why? Jillian inhaled sharply. She took a step backward. “What about the hair on the door? Why did you tape Amy’s hair to the door?”
Lynn’s forehead furrowed. “Hair? What hair?”
She’d been forthcoming with everything else. Why was she lying about taping Amy’s hair to her front door?
“You’re stalling—Psych 101. Give me the button, Jillian.”
There was only one way Lynn would get that button now—over her dead body. “I don’t have it. I told you I gave it—”
Another deafening shot rang out, echoing in the room. The bullet whizzed past Jillian’s ear and struck the wall behind her. She gasped. Her ears rang.
“I know damn well you wouldn’t give it back to Theo and risk loosing your precious Gatekeeper,” she sneered.
“What…what do you want with it?”
“I’m going to make certain Benton Smith pays for what he did to my great-grandmother.”
Jillian tried to play dumb. “What did he do?”
“You don’t know?”
Jillian shook her head. She was trembling.
“After Smith broke off their engagement, she married my great-grandfather, Bruce Bowers. But she never got over Benton Smith. She went crazy. She ran away and they found her at Shy’s Hill, digging in the dirt one night looking for a button, and after she told them she’d seen Smith’s ghost, they locked her up in the insane asylum.”
Jillian blew out a breath. Pity rose up inside her for Hattie because she, Jillian, knew what it was to be in love with Benton Smith. And no doubt, in addition to everything else, Hattie felt guilty for his death.
“When your sister told me she’d found that button at Shy’s Hill and was going to send that bastard into the Light, well…you see, I just couldn’t let that happen.”
“But Lynn, people just didn’t understand about psychics like us back then.” She was trying every trick she’d learned in psychology about dealing with a criminal. “It wasn’t Benton’s fault. It wasn’t Hattie’s fault either.”
Lynn’s eyes narrowed. “So he’s told you about her. You know.”
“I…I saw a letter she wrote to him, at the library. That’s all I know.”
Lynn pursed her lips together. She was shaking. She held the pistol with both hands to steady it. “Do you believe we get a second chance?”
Jillian’s brow creased. What did she mean? She stared. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” She tried to sound patient, in control—but she knew full well she was anything but in control at the moment. Why wouldn’t someone come in? Why wouldn’t the phone ring, anything to distract Lynn?
“I’m talking about reincarnation.”
Oh God, thought Jillian. Did Lynn believe she was the reincarnation of Hattie Cooke? If she did, then she was crazier than Jillian had first suspected. “I don’t know anything about that,” Jillian said carefully.
“Amy believes it.”
“Amy and I haven’t always seen eye to eye on the paranormal.”
Lynn’s voice changed. It became hard and cold. “Yes. She told me all about that.”
Jillian felt a pang of jealousy and remorse that she didn’t have as close a relationship with Amy as she had imagined. She stopped her thoughts in their tracks. That was exactly what Lynn wanted her to think. She blinked. She had to stay focused, to keep the attention on Lynn. “Tell me what you believe about reincarnation.” She tried to sound composed despite the fact Lynn was holding a gun on her and despite the fact she held a one hundred fiftyyearold sword in her hands. It was getting heavy. Her biceps and shoulders ached and burned from the strain.
Lynn’s red lips pulled into a tight line. “I believe that if we leave things unfinished in one life, we have a chance to finish them in the next.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Finishing something from a past life?”
“Oh no. Not me.”
Jillian didn’t understand. “But…don’t you believe you were Hattie Cooke?”
Lynn burst into an insane bout of laughter. “Are you out of your mind? No, I wasn’t Hattie Cooke, you fool.”
A moan came from the other room. Andrew was still alive. Jillian wondered how badly hurt he was. “Listen, Lynn. That man in there needs help. Let’s call an ambulance.”
She held the sword with one hand and started to reach down for her purse with the other.
“Stop right there.” Lynn stepped forward and aimed the pistol directly at her.
Chapter Fourteen
“Don’t touch that!” Lynn was becoming agitated. Impatient. She took a few steps closer, now only a couple feet from Jillian, her arm extended and the gun aimed right at Jillian’s chest.
Jillian was at the end of her rope. All she could do now was beg. “Lynn, don’t do this. You don’t want to have to repeat this in another life. Theo already knows about the clerk at the relic shop. Don’t add another murder to the list.”
“Give her the button, Jillian.” Benton appeared behind Lynn.
Jillian gasped. Lynn’s eyes grew wide but she didn’t turn around. Her spine stiffened.
Jillian’s gaze locked with Benton’s. She shook her head. “No. She wants to give you up to the soul collectors.”
“Give her the button.” His voice was calm. His expression was ruthless.
“Yes, give it to me!” Lynn’s voice rose sharply.
Jillian looked from Lynn to Benton, where she found silent encouragement in his gaze.
Lynn noticed the unspoken exchange. “I’ll kill her, Benton. I swear I will!”
A sudden feeling of courage swept through Jillian. “Then go ahead and do it, you coward!” Anger for what she had done to Amy and for what she was attempting to do to Benton sparked in her veins and fueled her fury. “Do it!” She was amazed at the power in her own voice.
Lynn stared. Her face drained of color.
“Jillian…” Benton’s voice was filled with warning.
“Do it—because I will never give you the button.” This time her voice was calm, even. Jillian’s breath came in short pants. She shook.
Lynn’s eyes narrowed. Her mouth formed a long, thin line. Her finger tightened around the trigger.
Jillian’s eyes widened. Lynn was really going to shoot her. Her breath froze in her lungs. Her gaze riveted to Benton’s.
As if in slow motion, Jillian watched as Lynn squeezed the trigger and as the gun went off, Benton pushed Lynn hard. Reflexively, Jillian’s hands came up, still clutching the sword. She squeezed her eyes shut and twisted her head as she felt Lynn’s weight propelled onto the tip of the sword. Resistance gave way and Jillian felt the hilt of the sword press into Lynn’s belly as she slammed hard against the floor with Lynn skewered on top of her.
Blood gurgled up from Lynn’s mouth. Her eyes grew impossibly wide, the irises completely black, unfocused.
Jillian gasped.
An animalistic moan emitted from somewhere deep inside Lynn. She sputtered and then her head lolled lifelessly to the side.
Jillian relinquished the sword and scrambled backward. Her arm stung like crazy. She felt as if someone had slugged her in the biceps. Hard. Her gaze caught the crimson stain on the snowy gloves. Blood. Jillian stared in horror and screamed.
Oh God, she’d killed Lynn. She’d killed her!
Her stare was riveted to the bloody gloves. That nagging pain still burned in her arm. She glanced down. More blood. She’d been shot.
Blackness washed over her. Her head started to spin. “Jillian!” Benton’s voice was urgent. He was on his knees beside her. A strong arm was around her back, laying her gently to the floor.
Her eyes met his.
“Are you all right?” Concern was evident on his face. “Jillian, talk to me.”
She opened her mouth to speak but no sound would come out.
“Jillian…”
His voice seemed far away although she knew he was holdi
ng her. It was as if she were looking at him through a tunnel.
Lynn’s grinning ghost became visible behind him.
All of a sudden, the soul collectors materialized out of the ether. Eyes glowing, mouths watering, they loomed toward Benton’s back.
Jillian tried to scream. She tried to point but her hand was heavy. Numb. And Benton seemed so far away. So far…
And then everything went black.
* * * * *
Jillian abruptly regained consciousness when she got the pungent ammonia whiff of smelling salts. She gasped. A paramedic kneeled beside her. “Ms. Drew?”
Another paramedic was putting a blanket over her. “You’re going to be all right,” he said. “You were grazed with a bullet.”
She twisted her head. Benton. Where was Benton? But what she saw was Lynn Bowers’ crumpled heap of a body.
Jillian jolted.
“It’s all right, Ms. Drew. Lie still.”
And then Theo’s big frame darkened the doorway. He took everything in and then rushed to Jillian’s side. “What in the hell happened here?”
Her mind was still fuzzy but she realized she wasn’t hurt too badly. “Is Andrew all right?” she managed.
“He’ll be fine. He took a bullet to the chest. He’s on the way to the hospital now,” one of the paramedics said.
Theo’s gaze swiveled to the paramedics and he pointed a long, mocha-colored finger at Jillian. “Is she gonna be all right?”
“Yeah,” the paramedic said. “She was just grazed and is in mild shock.”
“Who made the 9-1-1 call?”
The paramedic shrugged. “We assumed it was the old man.”
Theo’s hands found his hips. He stared at Lynn’s corpse and swallowed hard. “Jillian, did you…did you kill her?”
Jillian’s head cleared. She recalled every horrid, vivid detail. “Yes. She must have followed me here. She shot the museum director and then came after me. She must have…she must have stumbled or something because she fell on the sword. I didn’t mean to kill her. I…”
She suddenly recalled Lynn’s ghost and the soul collectors looming up behind Benton. Her heart stuck in her throat. Her gaze darted around the room. Neither of them was here now.
Oh God, had the soul collectors taken Benton?
Her heart began to race. A sob caught in her chest. Why had she passed out? Why couldn’t she have hung on and helped him fight them?
“I’ve got to go.” She tried to get up but her head swam. A nauseous wave threatened to make her sick.
Theo kneeled beside her. He gave her a comforting pat on the leg. “It’s all right. You be still. I’ll handle this.”
Jillian was shaking. She tried to sit up again but the paramedic put a hand on her chest. “Lie still, Ms. Drew. We’re going to move you to a stretcher.”
One helped her off with the gloves and then her bloodstained jacket. Jillian recalled the button was in the pocket. “No,” she protested. She seized it in her hand and refused to let it go.
After what seemed like an eternity of being picked, prodded, bandaged and forced to breathe through an oxygen mask, she became impatient. She shooed the paramedics away. “I’m fine now.”
She wanted to find Benton, to make certain he was all right. She pushed to a sitting position. Her arm stung where she’d been nicked with the bullet.
“Jillian, are you sure you should be…”
She didn’t listen to the rest of Theo’s protests. Instead, she flung off the blanket and tried to get up. Her white pants were spattered with blood. Her shoes were ruined. Jillian gagged but managed to suppress her meager breakfast of diet soda and blueberry toaster pastry.
Still, she was unable to tear her gaze away from the sight of Lynn’s crumpled body. The bloody shaft of the sword protruded abhorrently from her back. Benton’s sword. Her dyed blonde hair lay matted in a pool of her own blood. A group of crime scene investigators were already combing Lynn’s corpse. The pistol lay underneath her. One of the investigators pushed Lynn’s bright orange knit top up to examine the wound.
“Captain Carter, look at this.”
Jillian gasped when she saw the two hand-shaped bruises on Lynn’s back.
Benton had manifested. Fully. Again.
And now he was at risk of being taken by the soul collectors because he had protected her. Panic caused her to shake uncontrollably. Fear tightened her stomach into a hard knot. “I’ve got to go, Theo.” Her voice came out sounding strange, unwell.
One of the paramedics intervened. “Ma’am, you need to go to the hospital. Let us take you.”
Theo eyed her. “Who pushed her? Jillian, who was here with you?”
“Nobody.” She felt sick. “I need to go. I really need to go now, Theo.” Desperately, she looked into his eyes.
His expression grew soft, relenting. “Jillian, let me drive you.”
She balked. “No. I’m fine.” She took a staggering step backward. “I’m fine.” This time her voice was commanding but still had an unsteady quality. She snatched her purse off the floor and began searching for her keys. “I’m going home. I’m tired. If you need me, that’s where I’ll be.”
“I wish you’d let me drive you,” Theo repeated.
“No.” She looked him in the eye. “I’m fine. I’m just a little shaken up is all. I just want to go home and get out of these clothes.”
Theo handed her a plastic bag from the crime scene investigation kit. “Do you mind bagging those after you take them off? I’ll come pick them up later.”
She nodded, feeling a little more certain on her feet.
“Are you sure?” Theo’s brown eyes were wide with concern.
“Yeah, Theo. I’ll be okay.”
But as soon as she stepped out into the brisk November air, she wretched up what little she had eaten. When she was done, she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and all but fell into her car.
Lynn’s white Chevy Blazer sat parked in the next space. Jillian shuddered at the memory of the horrible scene. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her head, to take a deep breath.
She needed to concentrate on Benton. Seizing her jacket, she groped through the pockets. An uprising of panic surged but then her fingers closed around the hard, cold metal. She blew out a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” she said out loud. “Benton, where are you? Where are you?”
But she heard nothing except Amy’s words in her head. Don’t let him manifest to you again. I have a bad feeling about this. She recalled the awful nightmare in which she had felt responsible for Benton’s demise.
God, what had she done?
Chapter Fifteen
Amy gasped in horror when Jillian burst into her hospital room wearing the bloody white pants and shoes. Her silk blouse had been ripped open at the sleeve and a wide white bandage gleamed through the gaping hole. Jillian’s ponytail had fallen around her face in a commotion of unruly dark waves.
“What the—”
But Jillian didn’t give her time to ask for an explanation. Terror coursed through her veins. Her mind offered up frightening images of Benton, soulless, hollow. Jillian was trembling from head to toe. She thrust the button toward Amy. “Find him. Find him for me.” Just seeing her sister caused the panic she had staved off on the drive to the hospital to surge again. A hard, tight knot rose in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. She felt weak and sick and thought she might faint all over again.
Amy flew out of the bed and somehow managed to handle the IV caddy and Jillian at the same time.
Jillian allowed Amy to help her to the bed. She sat and buried her face in her hands. Her breaths were short and shallow. “Oh God, oh God,” she moaned over and over.
Amy stroked her hair. “Talk to me, Jill.” Her voice was feather soft and filled with compassion.
Jillian lifted her head. Her gaze slammed into Amy’s. She was trembling violently. “I think something has happened to Benton.”
“What?” Amy looked bewildered. “Wha
t happened to you?”
Jillian’s hands shook violently as she stared at the button. “Amy, take it. Find Benton for me. Please.”
Amy searched Jillian’s eyes and then she took the bronze button in her hand. “Tell me what happened.”
“I…I killed Lynn.”
Amy gasped.
“I killed her and…and then I saw her…her spirit and…the soul collectors…” Fresh tears spilled unchecked from her eyes. “Lynn tried to shoot me and…and Benton manifested to push her out of the way…and I think the soul collectors got him.” She sobbed in between words.
Amy’s gaze searched her face.
“What…what will happen to him if they did?”
There was no hope in Amy’s blue eyes. None.
“Tell me,” Jillian demanded. Acute guilt stabbed her in the gut. It was her fault. It was all her fault. Amy had warned her and she hadn’t listened. “Dammit, Amy. Tell me!”
Amy swallowed. “If it happened then…then his spirit will be stuck here, trapped for eternity between heaven and earth.”
Hopeless, Jillian closed her eyes. Her head sank. “What have I done?”
“Jill, let me see if I can find him. If he fought them, then his energy is probably weak.” Amy’s calm voice gave her a glimmer of hope.
Jillian watched with bated breath as Amy closed her hand around the button and inhaled deeply. Her breath froze.
What was she getting? Was Benton safe? Or had he succumbed to the soul collectors? Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She wanted to ask a hundred questions but she remained silent, afraid of breaking Amy’s trance.
Amy wet her lips. She took another deep breath and let it out slowly. She shook her head.
After what seemed like an eternity, she opened her eyes.
