by Unknown
I wrapped my arm around Nate’s waist and helped him toward the room. Ginger seemed to know a lot about what went on behind the scenes at the theater. That was good for us. Perhaps she knew something that could help us bring Samuel Parker down.
“We appreciate your assistance, Ginger,” Nate said. “Maybe you can help us with our investigation.”
Investigation, that was a nice way to describe what we were attempting.
“Help you?” she asked. “How?”
“Can you tell us anything about Mr. Parker?” Nate leaned heavily against me, his body connected to mine as we walked. The chance for full body contact didn’t present itself very often. And I’ll be honest, with my arm around his waist, and his around my shoulder, it was difficult to keep my train of thought on our current situation. “What kind of man was he?” he continued.
“Oh, Mr. Parker was wonderful,” Ginger said, a dreamy smile spreading across her face. “He was the best boss, always worrying about the workers. He bought everybody gifts after each production. Not just the actors and stage crew, but even those of us who worked in the rest of the theater.” A smile stretched her mouth, displaying perfectly white teeth. “And every Christmas he threw a catered party with Santa Claus and everything.”
“He sounds very generous.” Nothing like the psychopathic murderer the file portrayed him to be. Then again, a lot of serial killers were like that. It made it easier to lure people into their trap, get them trusting, and then kill them when they weren’t looking. “How about him and Miss Turner? What kind of relationship did they have?”
Her wistful smile evaporated and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know it’s not a very kind thing to say.” Her gaze darted up and down the hall. “But I didn’t much care for Miss Parker. Working here was a lot of fun until she arrived. Acted like she owned the place, and I think that was her plan. She’d only been here a couple weeks before she had her hooks and Mr. Parker.”
“Would you say their relationship was volatile?” Nate asked.
“Heck, yeah.” The ghost stopped in front of a door with a giant gold star hanging on the front. “At first, they only fought a little, but the longer they were together, the worse it seemed to get. She didn’t care where they were, or who was around. If she was angry, she let him know it.”
“She sounds delightful,” I said, lacing my comment with sarcasm. “Would you say he was a jealous type?”
“Mr. Parker?” She shook her head. “Not that I could tell. Miss Turner was the one that had the jealousy problem. Always yelling about him cheating on her, or that he looked at another woman, even if he was just being friendly to the patrons.” She blew out a breath. “Anyway, this is her dressing room. You should be able to rest in here. She’s got a real nice couch.”
“Thank you.” I turned the knob and the door opened with a single squeak. I reached around and flipped on the light. “We really appreciate your help, Ginger. If you happen to see Miss Turner, could you please let me know?”
“Sure.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “Well, I need to get back to work. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble, or worse yet, fired.” With that she turned and headed back down the hall.
Nate unwound his arm from around my shoulder and limped to the couch. A low groan oozed from him when he lowered himself, but that was the only complaint he made. “We need a plan.”
“Everybody around here really liked Samuel Parker.” I plopped onto the pink chair next to the couch. “Either he was one of the most charming serial killers that ever lived, or we have our story wrong.”
“You don’t think Parker was a serial killer?”
“I don’t know.” I leaned back, running my fingers through the sides of my hair, and then locked them on top of my head. “I can’t shake this feeling that were missing a big piece of the puzzle. Four women murdered, and yet nobody around here has said a single derogatory thing about Parker.”
“If that’s the case, then what is the missing piece?” Nate shifted and rested against the large rolled arm of the couch. “He had motive.”
“Did he?” The more I thought about Parker being the killer, the less it set well with me. “All the file said was that he killed four women. But the police report never gave him a motive.” I held up my hand, ticking off the ideas that had been rambling around in my head since we started this investigation. “He’s wealthy, successful, people loved him, handsome, and basically he had everything in the world to live for. Why kill himself?”
“Just because a person has all those things going for him doesn’t mean he’s not still a maniacal killer, or just plain crazy.” His gaze narrowed on me. “Come on, Carron, you can’t deny he was coming right for you.”
“No, that’s true.” The memory was still fresh in my mind, and my hands instinctively went to my throat—just like Pammy’s had when I mentioned her death. “There is no denying he had it in for me.” I released my neck and rubbed my arms, trying to chase away the cold lingering fear. “You’re probably right. I’m overthinking this.” My doubts were starting to cloud my judgment. “We don’t need to solve the crime. We just need to reap his soul.”
“Exactly.”
I sat forward. “So, what now?”
“We draw him out.” Nate scrubbed his hands over his face and winced when he touched the purple bruise. “Damn!” He sucked in a sharp breath and gently fingered his cheek. “I’m going to enjoy paying back Samuel Parker.”
“Okay, hero, but try not to get any more head trauma.” I bound to my feet. “Crap! I forgot my scythe in the lobby. I’ll be right back.”
“Be careful.” Sitting forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and leveled a stare at me. “Parker knows you’re here. Now more than ever we need to stick together. Grab your scythe and come directly back.”
I nodded. “I will.”
“I mean it, Carron. Don’t get sidetracked.”
I snorted a laugh. “Like that would ever happen.”
Before he could reply, I bolted out of the room. Yes, I had a tendency to follow the shiny object, but this was about my scythe. Nothing could distract me from getting my baby back.
The strange whisper I’d heard seconds before I’d seen Carolyn Turner in the lobby, sounded behind me. I stopped and slowly turned. Nope, nothing was going to distract me from retrieving my scythe, nothing but the ghost of Carolyn Turner.
7
H er image hovered at the end of the hall, her hand extended again, beckoning me to her. But this time she didn’t look so scared. I didn’t move. No way was I going to chase after a ghost without my scythe. “Wait there.” I held up my finger. “I’ll be right back.”
I pivoted and ran to the lobby, which was pretty amazing considering there weren’t a lot of things that could induce me to run. My scythe had compacted back into the cylinder and rested next to the concession counter.
“You’re back.” Eddie stopped polishing the counter. “Is it because you got in trouble?”
“Nope, just forgot something.” I snatched the black cylinder from the floor and re-hooked it to my belt loop. “No time to talk.”
He called out something to my departing back, but I ignored him, not wanting to keep Carolyn Turner waiting. I rushed past the dressing room and rounded the corner, skidding to a stop. My adrenaline rush dwindled. “Damn,” I uttered to the empty corridor.
“Miss Turner?” I inched my way down the hall, stopping to peer into the open rooms. “Miss Turner, are you here?”
No answer. Remembering Nate’s warning, I gave up the search and booked it back, pausing just outside the dressing room. Maybe Miss Turner had wanted to show me something in one of the rooms. That would be a good place to continue our search for Parker.
“Did you get it?” Nate called from inside.
“Yeah.” After taking one last look down the hall, I stepped inside and patted the cylinder. “It was right where I left it.”
“At least something went right tonight.” Nate pushed to
his feet. “We need to get moving.”
“Are you sure you’re up for it?” He seemed steady on his feet and the glazed look in his gaze had been replaced by determination. Poor Parker, the ghost had no idea what he was in for when Nate got ahold of him. “We can afford a couple more minutes.”
“I’m tired of sitting.” He headed toward the door. “Let’s check out the rooms down this hallway.”
“About that.” I hesitated. “I just saw Carolyn Turner again—at the end of the hall.”
His eyebrows lifted and he smiled. “That must’ve been hard, Carron.”
Even though I was fairly certain I wouldn’t like his answer, I stilled myself and asked. “What was hard?”
“Deciding to retrieve your scythe instead of chasing her ghost.”
“You have no idea. If it had been anything besides my scythe I would’ve chased her down. Even that big ass bag of Halloween candy would have taken a backseat to finding out what Carolyn Turner wanted.”
“Wow, ghost over junk food.” His smile spread. “It’s good to know you can exercise common sense when needed.”
“Don’t bank on that. I could go rogue at any second depending on my blood sugar level or time of the month.”
“Too much information.” He started forward. “But good to know.”
Figuring he neither needed or wanted my help, I pushed past him and took the lead. Once in the hallway, I pointed toward the end. “She was there.”
“Did she say anything?”
“No, just did that creepy beckoning thing.” My fingers stroked the cylinder hanging off my belt loop, while my other hand pressed the Raven charm at my neck. Both gave me a measure of comfort, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think I was one-hundred percent protected. “Let’s start at the end and work our way back to the dressing room.”
“That’s as good of a plan as any, “Nate said.
“Do you want to lead, or should I?”
“I’ll lead.” He shouldered past me and started down the hall. I refrained from voicing a snarky retort, but only because I’d asked.
Some of the doors were locked, while others stood open. The first thing I did at each room was flip on the lights. And when we left, I made no effort to shut them off again. Like I’d said, I hoped Lizzie Git had set aside extra money for utilities this month.
At the end of the hall stood a dark wood door. Ornate carvings curled around the inlaid rectangle, and a crystal and brass doorknob sparkled in the bright light. Thankfully the shut door was unlocked. Nate turned the handle and pushed it open. Of course, I reached around and flipped the light switch.
“This has to be Parker’s office.” I stepped over the threshold and into a room decorated for a man. Wainscoting, oversized desk chair and desk, tall wooden file drawer. The whole place screamed manly hangout. My gaze scanned the room for any sign of Parker’s ghost, but it appeared spirit-free. “There might be something here we can use to draw him out. Maybe this is what Carolyn Turner wanted to show me.”
“Let’s hope.” Nate stopped and looked at me. “Do you feel that? It’s cold in here.”
“The whole theater is cold.” The words died on my tongue. He was right. Unlike the rest of the theater, the office felt several degrees cooler. “Okay, that’s creepy.”
“He probably hangs out here.” Edging further into the room, Nate headed for the massive desk. He pulled the chain on the brass desk lamp, illuminating the green glass shade. “I’ll start here. You check out the rest of the room.”
I nodded and moved toward a door at the opposite end of the office. It had the same glass knobs and details as the main office door, but appeared narrower. On the other side, I found a sitting room. The furnishings were of high quality and matched the office decor. The same Wainscoting hugged the lower section of the walls, and two leather chairs sat angled in front of the stone fireplace. An Oriental rug that would have looked great in my living room spread out beneath the chairs, making the room quite cozy. Along the wall to my left a table held an old fashion radio and dozens of silver picture frames. Floor to ceiling wooden bookshelves encased the far wall, and every space had been fill with books, books, and more books.
This must’ve been Parker’s private sitting room. Away from the crowd and bustle of the theater life, he probably found peace here, or maybe this was where he plotted his next murder.
I stopped in front of the table and picked up a silver picture frame embellished with flowers and crystals. Though the woman in the picture was much younger than the previous photograph I’d seen, I recognized her.
“Her name was Irene,” said a voice behind me.
At the sound of the intruder’s voice, the picture frame nearly slipped from my fingers. My head snapped in the direction of the fireplace. Samuel casually leaned against the mantle, appearing very relaxed. To my relief his menacing expression was gone, and he no longer looked as if he wanted to kill me. Now, he resembled the Samuel Parker everybody had described, charming, handsome, and I could see how easily a woman could be fooled by his laidback nature. Not me. I’d seen his dark side.
Wanting to free up my hands, I set the picture back on the table, and then turned to face him fully. “She was your sister, well, stepsister, right?”
“I always considered her to be my sister.” He toyed with the fringe dangling from the mantel runner. His voice took on a reflective tone. “I miss her very much.”
What I wanted to say was, “Then, maybe you shouldn’t have murdered her.” But common sense won out. Instead I nodded sympathetically. I wanted to alert Nate, but I didn’t want to scare off Parker. Besides our little encounter in the lobby, this was the first time we’d actually come face-to-face with his spirit.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” If I could keep him talking, maybe Nate would make his way to the room and figure out what was going on. “She was very beautiful.”
“Yes, she was,” he said, lowering his arm and peering directly at me. “You kind of remind me of her, actually.”
“Me?” I glance at the picture and then back to him. “Do you really think so?” Again, my eyes darted from the picture to the ghost. The last thing I wanted was for him to start comparing me to his dead sister. “I don’t see the resemblance.”
“Around here.” He circled, indicating his eye area. “She had the same shade of eyes as you.”
My fingers toyed with the black cylinder at the belt. I could have the scythe out and extended in a matter of seconds. I only hoped I was faster than him. First I needed to unhook it from my belt loop without him noticing. I slipped my finger under the latch, preparing to detach it, but he stopped me.
“Please don’t.” He held one hand out in front of him, staying my action. “I know what that is, and I know who you are.”
I lowered my hand. “Well, if you know who we are, you must know why we’re here.”
“Yes.” His expression softened and the tension around his eyes relaxed. His gaze pleaded for me not to release my scythe, yet at the same time he seemed resigned to his fate. “I can’t let you take me. At least not yet. And, I can’t let you near Carolyn.”
Of course, he couldn’t let us near Carolyn. The last thing he wanted was for us to help out one of his victims. In an effort to keep him talking, I asked, “Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t be in your best interest.”
Not letting me speak with Carolyn wouldn’t be in his best interest. His gaze traveled past me, and for a second I thought Nate had entered the room. Parker’s expression darkened and narrowed, and all low growl rumbled from him. It was like watching the transformation of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
“Come here.” He floated toward me, his hands raised just like they’d been when he attacked me in the lobby. “Don’t!”
Had that approach worked on all his victims? No way was I getting anywhere near him. Unable to stop myself, I took a step backward, intending on yelling for Nate, but before I could utter a sound an icy vise slipped around my neck and sq
ueezed.
I gasped and clawed at my throat, but there was nothing to latch onto, no fingers, no scarf, no rope. The pressure increased, preventing me from taking a full breath. The blood pounded in my ears and I thought I heard Samuel yelling, but the only thing I could focus on was breaking free of the choking hold and not passing out. When blackness invaded the edges of my vision, I lifted my foot and tried to kick my attacker, but my foot merely passed through the air, not connecting.
I couldn’t breathe, and seconds before I passed out, Parker rushed toward me with his hands extended. My eyes squeezed shut in a feeble attempt to brace for impact. Shards of ice impaled me, slicing my body from front to back as Parker’s spirit passed completely through me. Though the pain from his invasion lingered, sending tremors to the center of my bones, the pressure around my neck instantly vanished.
My knees buckled and I stumbled backward, knocking into the table and toppling several of the picture frames to the ground. Like a ragdoll, my body crumpled, landing on top of the broken glass from the picture frames. I gasped, sucking in a lungful of air, faintly aware of the cutting glass, but I couldn’t force my body to move.
“Lisa!” Nate shouted from the doorway, at least I think it was the doorway. At that moment, I was doing good just to be conscious. “Lisa! Can you hear me?”
“Yeah.” The word came out raspy and my throat throbbed. I braced my hands against the floor and pushed up, but collapsed again when sharp pain shot through the palms of my hands. “Ouch!”
“Careful. “Nate straddled me and scooped up my body. I’m not going to lie, even though I was in pain, I found the fact that he could lift me very sexy. “You’re lying in glass.” Shifting, he got us clear of the shards, and then lowered back to the floor, placing me in front of him. “What happened?”
“Samuel Parker.” I watched Nate pick a triangular piece of glass out of my palm, liking the protective way he cared for me. “He showed up a few seconds after I came into the room. Said he knew who we were and why we were here.”
“Did that make him mad? Is that why he attacked you?” His hold on my wrist tightened.
