“I have to…” I glanced around and said simply, “…go.”
She released my hand, and I hurried back to my house. Just after I passed the threshold and shut the door, I winked out. I had chosen to float over to where Clark stood because blinking in anywhere might land me in the middle of a person, not something I wanted to ever do again. I found space near Clark and his officers and listened in to their conversation.
“What have we got?” Clark asked.
Will, one of the other officers, scowled and looked up at the house. “We got in, but then I don’t know what happened.”
Clark’s nostrils flared. “What do you mean you don’t know what happened? You’re a trained officer, Will. Explain!”
Will ran a hand over his buzz cut and sighed. “You know we got the tip, right? About the woman?”
“Yeah, go on.”
“Well, we arrived, knocked on door, announced ourselves. I didn’t think anyone was there, but then the door opened by itself.”
I felt like my heart constricted. I had seen this trick many times and knew Ian did it especially when he wanted to avoid coming close to sunlight during the day. What bothered me was I knew Ian well enough to know he had little respect for human laws. He wouldn’t disturb his sleep to allow policemen into his house, and if Vanessa was there, why would he risk it?
“What did you see?” Clark was asking, and I focused on the conversation.
“Nothing. It was dark. We couldn’t see past a couple feet from the door. We called out to Mr. McClain, but there was no answer. At that point, I decided to explore further.”
Clark worked his jaw. “You didn’t have a search warrant, and no visible evidence that foul play occurred, yet you went inside?”
“I know, Chief. I’m sorry, I—”
“No excuses, Will. What else?”
Will continued to explain, and I began to gather what had happened. Ian lured the policemen inside and erased their memories, or rather, he shaped their memories. My guess was he intended to have them believe they had spoken with him and found the report of a murder to be a false claim. Will and his partner ended up back on the front stoop, but then the citizens of Summit’s Edge started arriving, all with the knowledge that someone had been killed in Ian McClain’s house.
“How can everyone have heard about the call?” Clark demanded. He paced, his jaw tight, anger radiating off him. I followed, keeping to a few steps behind and thinking it through as well. “Someone informed them just like they informed us, to be sure it couldn’t be swept under a rug.”
That’s my chief. In the same instant I was proud of his deductive reasoning, my fear escalated.
Will scratched his head. “What I don’t get is why would he show us the body after letting us search his house without finding any evidence?”
Clark went over the facts. “So you went in, talked to him, and he let you look around. Then you thanked him and left. While you stood on the front walk, people started arriving, murmuring about a murder. Then you hear a thump and turn around to see her lying in the hall. Have I got everything?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it, Chief.”
Clark rubbed his eyes. “Why is my job so complicated all of a sudden?”
I faced the house and told myself to go in, but I didn’t move.
“Where is he now?” Clark asked.
“Still in the house. We’ve called to him and threatened. I think he’s holed up in one of the rooms. Doesn’t seem to want to come out without being forced to.”
I felt sick staring into the dark cavern that was the entrance to Ian’s house. Sunlight overhead seemed to have shifted so my vision extended farther than the two feet the officers had indicated. Where would Ian be? I knew right away. He would have gone into his library, a room without windows.
“I’m going to talk to him,” Clark announced. “Do we know his number?”
Will hesitated. “Nothing on record, which is strange. Maybe Libby has it.”
Clark’s expression turned thunderous. I knew he was still attracted to me although I hadn’t accepted any more dates with him. He must have heard through the grapevine I had been seen with Ian, and we had a couple run-ins with the law while out together. I already knew Ian wasn’t on Clark’s favorite person list.
“We won’t involve Libby in this unless it’s necessary,” Clark announced, and he started toward the house. The officers trailed behind, wary. Clark stopped a few feet from the entrance, his hand on the weapon at his hip. “I need this area clear. No one beyond the street, preferably across it. Clear two doors down each side.”
“Yes, sir.”
Clark glanced toward my house, and then scanned the crowd. He shook himself as if to regain focus and turned back toward the house. I followed, wondering what to do. I couldn’t let the police storm Ian’s house. That would be dangerous for them as much as Ian. He wouldn’t come out without a fight, which might mean Clark or one the officers being hurt.
Clark paused. “He didn’t mind you taking the body?”
Will shook his head. “No. Like I said, I think he’s holed up somewhere. He put her in the hall. We got her out. The EMTs declared her dead, and they took her down to the morgue.”
“Get me a bull horn.” Clark snapped his fingers, his face reddening. “Since I don’t have a number, I’m going to have to yell. We’ll give him a chance to avoid too much trouble.”
“Uh…” Will danced from foot to foot.
“What!”
Will coughed. “Remember that accident when Bart drove his car over it?”
Clark blinked at him. “You’re telling me we didn’t get a replacement?”
“We didn’t have the budget for it at the time, sir, and down here, there’s never really been a need.”
Clark swirled on his heel to march to his car. He jerked the radio receiver out and barked into it. “Get me a megaphone from the high school over here. Stat!”
“Yes, sir, chief,” came the crackled response.
Clark growled in disgust, and I sympathized with him. In following him around on the last case and visiting his office on many occasions, I had learned the budget for the police station was microscopic. They made do more often than not, and most of the time they didn’t complain. In a way, I understood why Bart Pierce, a former officer, had done what he had. However, he hadn’t been thinking of his coworkers at the time.
Steeling myself for coming face-to-face with Ian after this incident and not knowing what I would find, I turned toward the house. I didn’t imagine even if this was Ian’s rest time that he would be sleeping. I needed to talk to him and get his side of things. Maybe I should have been concerned, but I still wasn’t afraid he would banish me.
I floated toward the house, preparing to enter the way the police had rather than just blink in. Ian would probably know I was coming either way, but I wanted to postpone the conversation as long as possible. I reached a spot near the front door, and a bolt of lightning hit me hard, propelling me backward. Shock and hurt impacted me harder than the electricity. The humans could get in, but I was back on the no-entrance list? I longed to cry, would give anything to indulge in a ghostly wail fit, but I just stood there in confusion.
“Libby!”
I spun away from the house at Monica’s call. She had shouted my name knowing I was somewhere out here. I made my way in her direction. Maybe she wanted an update and was dying of curiosity to learn what I had heard. My mood plummeted so much, it would be a miracle if I could put together two words. When I reached her, I brushed her arm, allowing my fingers to solidify just enough to make an impact. She shivered and squeezed her cell phone in a tight grip.
“I better go see if she’s in the house,” she announced in an unnatural tone. I squinted at her face and saw worry mingled with fear. What could it be now? Had Ian contacted her, knowing I couldn’t use the phone? Then again, why would he? He could call to me at any time. Yet, he had blocked me out. I followed in silence and floated through my
front door, not looking forward to whatever Monica had to say.
Chapter Four
“Libby, you’re not going to like this,” Monica said, still clutching her phone.
I materialized and groaned. “I can’t take anything else right now. Hold on. Let me check on Jake.” I made sure my son was still enjoying his games and returned to the kitchen. Monica sank into a chair, but I remained standing. “Tell me.”
“Mason called.”
Another shock. Mason, my ex-husband, whom I had found the strength to divorce after years of emotional abuse was the last person I wanted to hear from—especially now. His schedule of seeing Jake wasn’t regular, more like when he found the time in his busy life. He lived in Raleigh, and I was happy with it that way. Mason kept himself far enough removed that he hadn’t heard about the deaths and other crimes happening in my small town. I had rather him not find out. “What did he want?”
Monica turned up one side of her lips and folded her arms across her chest. That was my friend’s look when she had little patience for someone who offended me. She knew my history with Mason even though I had tried to hide it when I was still married to him. Monica had never stopped pushing to get me to either force Mason to treat me better or to leave him. Yet, she had never left my side. I loved her for it.
“He wanted to know why he couldn’t get through to your phone. The message said it’s not in service, and you didn’t give him a new number. He seems to think he has rights.”
Despite my mood, I chuckled. “He is Jake’s father, Monica, and he doesn’t know I can’t use electronic equipment without destroying it.”
“I’m saying he doesn’t need to know.”
I fought a losing argument. “What else did he say?”
She hesitated. Wooziness came over me, which was probably all in my mind.
“He said he’s coming down here this weekend to see his parents, and he wants to see Jake too.”
The entire world dipped and sloped. I shut my eyes, concentrating, but I could tell it did no good. I had never felt more pushed into facing the truth in my entire life. Everything that had occurred seemed to direct me to let go.
“If he comes, Jake might tell him about me being a ghost.”
“He’ll never believe it,” Monica countered.
“Jake’s not the type to believe in silly fantasies. Remember he told me Santa Clause isn’t real at five years old? Almost broke my heart.”
Monica held up a finger. “Yes, but he accepted you as a ghost without question. That’s got to prove he’s still a kid.”
“To Jake, it’s simply fact.”
Monica stood up and dropped hands on my shoulders before she realized I wasn’t solid. Her hands passed through, and she shivered. That reaction had ceased to interest me after the fiftieth time it happened. She moved away. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
I already have.
I floated along the street, wondering why Isabelle chose to meet away from everyone else and to not tell anyone who she was meeting. I knew Monica worried, so I had made up an excuse and left Jake in her care. I didn’t like lying to my best friend, but I admitted Isabelle’s secrets were not mine to share. I respected her wish to keep how much she was involved with helping me to a minimum.
I scanned the area around me, ahead, and behind. No one walked on the street, but I increased my pace. The roar of an engine caught my attention, and I stopped moving. Isabelle pulled her car to a stop and got out. Here was another enigma. I was pretty sure Isabelle couldn’t see me, but she definitely sensed when I was nearby.
I watched as she strode to the passenger side of her car and leaned on it. I floated closer. “Libby, I sense you,” she said, her gaze off focus. I was about to appear, but she held up a hand. “Don’t show yourself.”
“Why?” I whispered, looking around.
She turned and leaned in the car window to pull her purse out. Then she searched the contents, head bowed. “There are things going on I don’t like.”
“What things?”
“I wanted to meet you out here because I don’t want anyone knowing about…you know.”
“Your secret?”
“Yes.”
I was starting to feel the clandestine movements were a bit too dramatic for me, but I held my peace.
“Libby, did you feel like someone was following you when you came out here?”
I gaped at her, although she couldn’t see it. “Why? Am I?”
She chewed a thumbnail. “No. I don’t know. There’s no one nearby right now.”
I wondered if she meant there was someone near me earlier. All of these gifts and abilities nonhumans and special people like Isabelle had baffled me. I knew Ian had heightened senses. His hearing went beyond that of a human’s and his sense of smell was better than a bloodhound’s. I doubted Isabelle’s senses were heightened, but she might have other ways of knowing more than the average person.
“What to do about the vampire,” Isabelle mused.
I frowned and let her see my face. “Ian didn’t kill Vanessa. I don’t care what anyone says.” I didn’t mean to make such an assertion when I hadn’t spoken to him and had no proof. Yet, I realized the words echoed my heart.
“Libby, he is a vampire.”
“And that makes him guilty? People assume a lot of things about your kind too.”
Isabelle gasped, and I wished I could take back the petty words.
“Touché.” She smiled, to my surprise. “Liberty Grace, you fight tooth and nail for those you love, don’t you?”
I opened my mouth to deny I loved Ian but then snapped it closed. There had been no judgment in her words, only acceptance.
“Can I get you to help me think this thing through, Libby?” Her reasonable request calmed me a little.
“What did you have in mind?”
“It took me a while, but I ran across Nessa, and I knew right away.”
“Knew what?”
“She’s a witch…was a witch.”
I gaped. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m very inexperienced, but I can tell when there’s a person with power that goes beyond a mere human’s ability. It’s the same with vampires. I knew as soon as Ian came to town what he was, but I wasn’t in a position to confront him, so I stayed out of his way. I never said this to you, but I think he would have killed me if it wasn’t for you. I would have tried to kill him if it wasn’t for you as well.”
My mouth fell open. “He didn’t—”
“No, but it would have happened.”
Her assertion broke my heart. In the short time I had been spending time with Isabelle and getting to know the real her, I liked her a lot. We could be very close friends. In fact, I felt we were heading that way. However, I wouldn’t let go of Ian for this new friendship. The good part was neither of them was asking me to. Then depression settled on my shoulders. Ian might be leaving my life either way.
I tried to dismiss the man from my thoughts and focus on the conversation. “Did you talk to her?”
“I tried. She was very hostile. Told me she didn’t understand how I could live peacefully in the same town as a vampire. When I didn’t look surprised at her naming Ian, it made her madder. Such hatred in those eyes. It about broke my heart. Well, if it wasn’t for vampires... I totally agree on that score.”
I pressed my lips together.
“What caught me off guard was that she said ‘at least I have my reasons.’”
I materialized in front of Isabelle, and she gave me a reproving look that I ignored. “Does that mean she knows a vampire?”
“Maybe.” Isabelle tapped her lip, deep in thought. “Or it could mean she knew Ian was here, and she came here to deal with him.”
“That would be bad.”
“I agree.”
We speculated that Vanessa might have confronted Ian in his house and being who he was, he wouldn’t accept it. If that were the case, wasn’t it self-defense? I posed this thought to
Isabelle. “Especially if she came to stake him. Not that we can tell the police that.”
“No, I wouldn’t want that information shared with my brother.”
We were silent for a moment, and Isabelle kept glancing down the street. I looked too, but I felt nothing. No darkness closed in, which I was grateful for. I stayed visible beside her and leaned on the car.
“He put a barrier up against me,” I blurted out, and she looked at me.
“I thought you two…”
“We are. Were. I don’t know. When I first met him, he had a barrier that kept me out. He said ghosts were a natural enemy of vampires, but I don’t really see how I can be a threat. Anyway, he took it down when we got closer. Today, it was up again, and before that he told me to stay away.”
Sympathy clouded Isabelle’s eyes, and she touched my hand. Ever the practical woman, she said, “Why doesn’t he want you in his house? Is there something he wants to hide?”
“I’d like to know. He won’t talk to me.”
“Well, I have to think about protecting myself and Clark.” Isabelle straightened.
“Ian wouldn’t—”
She held up her hands. “There’s no use arguing, Libby. Do you think he’ll let the police arrest him, or will he do something rash?”
I hated saying I didn’t know again. “It was always a simple matter of erasing memories.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth, and she scowled at me, probably wondering whose minds Ian had manipulated, and guessing correctly that Clark was one of them.
When Isabelle spoke, her voice was tight, and I knew I had angered her in my foolish slip of the tongue. “Everyone in town knows about Nessa’s death and Ian’s involvement.”
“They know she was found at his house,” I insisted, and a new thought occurred to me. “Someone knew before everyone else—the killer.”
Isabelle appeared confused.
“Clark said an informant called it in. I know for a fact Ian doesn’t let even workmen into his house if he can help it.”
“Then he might have thought she could be saved and called himself.”
“And told everyone else in town too?”
How to Kill a Ghost Page 3
