by Unknown
“No. He said he couldn’t let us take him yet. He also said he couldn’t let me near Carolyn Turner.”
“Probably because he doesn’t want her to be reaped. Then who would he torment?” He lifted the edge of his shirt and gently brushed the material across my palm. “He’s even more dangerous than we thought.”
“I don’t think so.” I sat back on my heels and pulled my hand from his grip. “I think he was warning me off, not threatening me.”
“But he attacked you.”
“No, I don’t think he did. We were standing there talking and suddenly somebody started choking me from behind. It had to be a spirit because I couldn’t see or feel their hands, and I couldn’t pry their grip loose.” I swallowed hard, the spit refusing to go down. “But, I think Parker saw whoever was behind me. He suddenly got all menacing and yelled. At first I thought he was shouting at me, but when something started choking me, I realized he was talking to my attacker.”
Nate reclaimed my hand and pulled me toward him. I inched closer, and he took my face in his hands. His eyes roamed over my face, not romantically, but to check me out for cuts and bruises. “How did you get free?”
“Parker rushed the attacker and passed through me.” Nate grimaced. “Yeah, it hurt like hell.” My body gave an involuntary shudder. “But, whoever was choking me let go, and both spirits disappeared.” Our eyes locked. Being only a couple of inches away from him, I could see the green flecks in his eyes, making me hyper aware of his body heat. Gingerly touching my neck, I cleared my throat and sat back again, trying to put a little distance between us. At the moment, I was feeling very vulnerable and would have no problem letting him comfort me. “Then you found me.”
He didn’t look away. His mouth pulled into a straight line and his gaze narrowed. He was upset, and from the firm set of his jaw, he was having a hard time keeping it reined in.” We need to finish up this job. It’s getting too dangerous around here.”
“I know this goes against everything we read in the file, but I don’t think Samuel Parker murdered those women.” I shook my head. “He saved me. That doesn’t seem like the actions of a serial killer.”
“If not Parker, who?” Nate pushed to his feet and then held out his hands to me. “From what you’ve told me, the only person who makes sense is Carolyn Turner.”
I gripped his hands and let him pull me to my feet. Besides a couple of cuts from the glass and my sore neck, I was unhurt. “Yeah.” My head bobbed up and down as the idea took root. “That’s exactly who murdered those women. It makes a lot more sense for her to be the killer than Samuel Parker.”
“A jealous lover?” He bent and picked up the broken picture of Irene White. “Could it be that simple?”
“Nothing is ever that simple.” Clearly, he knew nothing about women. “Never underestimate the amount of rage behind a woman’s jealousy.”
“That’s a whole lot of rage, especially if she murdered Parker’s sister.”
“Psychotic and jealous, a deadly combination.” Being jealous enough to murder a person was completely foreign to me. Even when my husband and I were at the height of our relationship, I would have never contemplated killing another woman out of jealousy. Carolyn Turner was seriously crazy-pants nutso, and I’d stepped right into her sites just by talking to him for less than five minutes. “If Parker had shown preference to Irene over Carolyn that would have made her angry. And it’s no coincidence that Pammy was murdered the night before she was supposed to go on in Carolyn’s place.”
“Being replaced by the understudy…” Nate blew out a low whistle. “That had to piss her off.”
“In her twisted mind, she probably thought that if she got the sister and the understudy out of the way, she’d have Samuel all to herself.” Personally, I’d never known anyone that irrational, but I’d seen them on the Internet. Sometimes, I wondered if the person was for real or just made up for the benefit of their audience. Unfortunately, it seemed Carolyn Turner was no fake. In life, she’d been a bona fide psychopath, and it looked like she’d carried that lovely trait into the afterlife. “Didn’t work though.”
“The one question I have though,” Nate said, “Is why Evelyn Git? Parker and Turner were dead by the time Evelyn hosted her Halloween party.”
“Because,” I said, feeling rather superior that I had information he didn’t, “Evelyn had contact with Samuel during her party. Carolyn must have seen them talking, got jealous, and killed Evelyn.” The pieces started to fall into place, the gnawing doubt I’d had since we started this case abating. Things were finally making sense. “Evelyn told me that Parker had been ecstatic about her reopening the theater.”
Nate crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at me. “When did you talk to Evelyn Git?”
“A few minutes before you got up close and personal with the wall.” I smiled sweetly. “Even when she told me about her encounter with him it hadn’t made sense that Parker murdered her. She was doing exactly what he wanted her to do.”
“You might be right. All this time we’ve been hunting for Parker when we should’ve been hunting for Carolyn Turner.”
“So, what now?” I highly doubted Miss Turner would willingly hand herself over to be reaped. And I certainly didn’t want to go one-on-one with her again. Dat bitch be crazy. Technically this was Nate’s reap. No one could argue that Carolyn Turner fell under the violent criminal category. “I’ll follow your lead.”
“We need to talk to Samuel and get the truth about the murders.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” I seriously hoped he did not expect to use me as bait. No, no, not happening. “She’s probably following him around, spying on everything he does to make sure he doesn’t talk to the other women. “
“Then we’ll have to come up with a way to distract her.” Nate stroked his chin. Though he stared at me, I could tell his mind was working on the plan. “What does Carolyn Turner love more than Samuel Parker?”
“That’s easy. Herself.”
“Exactly,” Nate said. “All we have to do is get her to focus on herself.”
We were both silent for a second, but I was already coming up with a plan. “The play. If she happened to overhear that Pammy was usurping her place, she be irate and insist on commandeering the play.”
“She’ll be so focused on playing Juliet that she won’t be thinking about Parker. That’s when we’ll have our little chat.”
“For a few minutes at least,” I said. “If Carolyn played Juliet, then we’d know exactly when and where to reap her.”
“In order for this to work, we’re going to need Pammy and Arlene’s help.” Nate straightened, giving me a hard gaze. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“I’m fine.” Even if my head felt like it was splitting in two, I would’ve pushed through the pain if it meant reaping Carolyn Turner’s soul. My attitude might have been a little on the negative side, but attempted murder did that to me. “All right then, let’s go talk to the girls. We’ve got a psychopath to catch.”
8
P ushing open the door to the wardrobe room, I stuck my head inside. “Hey, how’s it going?”
Arlene and Pammy looked up from their tasks. The younger ghost smiled, but Arlene simply stared over the top of her cat eyeglasses.
“It’s going good,” Pammy said. “We’re just finishing up my gown for the death scene.”
“Fantastic.” Capturing the murdering ghost was for everybody’s benefit, and I sincerely hoped both of the spirits saw it that way. I stopped next to the alteration table and surveyed their work. “Wow, you’ve been busy.”
“We have something we want to ask you two.” Nate said, joining the three of us. He braced his hands on top of the surface and pinned the women with a meaningful stare. “We need your help.”
“Of course, I’ll do whatever I can.” Lowering the dark blue wad of material to her lap, Pammy gave us her undivided attention. “What is it?”
“Not so fast.�
�� Arlene set the heavy lace veil on the table, and then crossed her arms over her chest. “First tell us what you want.” She waved a finger at us. “Then we’ll tell you if we’re going to help.”
“Arlene!” The younger ghost gasped and glowered at the seamstress. “That’s not very neighborly.”
“Pammy, honey, trust me on this. If these two want something from us, we need to know what it is before we agree.” Her gaze leveled on Nate. “What are we talking here? Snitching? Stealing?” Her eyes lit up. “Murder?”
“God no!” I pulled out the chair next to Pammy and sat, looking at her. She might be as sweet as pie and a brilliant actress, but I wasn’t sure she had the same firm grasp of the obvious as Arlene did. “You know what we do, right?”
“Yes.” Her face scrunched up a bit. “Well, I think I do. You help spirits cross into Heaven. That’s why you can see us.”
She had a knack for dumbing down a complicated situation, which at the moment, I totally appreciated. “Exactly. We’re grim reapers, and we originally came here to reap Mr. Parker because we were told he was bad.”
“That’s not true. He’s a wonderful man,” Pammy argued.
“We know that now.” I held up my hand, cutting her off. “But we’ve also discovered that it’s Carolyn Turner we need to reap.”
“I’m in!” Arlene pushed her chair back and stood. “Whatever you need from me, I’m in.”
“But…” Pammy’s gaze lingered on me, her mouth turning down in a frown. “Why do you have to reap Miss Turner?”
Time for the tough conversation. It was hard enough telling somebody that they were dead. I’d never had to reveal a spirit’s murderer before. “She’s done a lot of bad things.” Despite the coldness, I knew I’d feel, I covered her hand with mine. “She’s the one that strangled you.”
Again, confusion played across her face, and her mouth pulled into an even deeper frown. “No.” Slowly she shook her head. “She wouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m afraid she did.” I wish I could have made the news easier to hear, but there was no way to sugarcoat the bomb I’d just dropped. Being murdered sucked, plain and simple. Being murdered by somebody you admired sucked ten times as much. In an effort to put a positive spin on the truth, I added, “But, on a good note, it wasn’t Mr. Parker as we originally thought.”
“I guess that’s good.” Pammy shrugged. “But I always liked Miss Turner. And I thought she liked me too.”
Had I ever been as young and naïve as her? A heaviness settled on my chest. My anger over the pain Carolyn Turner had caused, and continued to inflict on those around her, burned through me. “It’s a very good thing that it wasn’t Mr. Parker.” I patted her hand. “It means when he wanted you to go on as lead actress, he’d meant it. He believed in your abilities as an actress.”
“Haven’t I been telling you that?” Arlene took a drag off the cigarette she hadn’t been holding a few minutes ago, and then blew out an exaggerated stream of smoke. “And it doesn’t surprise me one bit that witch was the one that did you in. She was always jealous of you. Hell, she was jealous of any woman who even looked at Mr. Parker—or walked by him—or breathed the same air.” She pursed her lips and shook her head, clearly disgusted, but not surprised by our discovery. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We need to make her believe that she’s the one going on as Juliet tonight,” Nate said. “And, we need you to keep her occupied long enough so we can talk to Parker.”
“But, I thought I was supposed to be Juliet tonight,” Pammy said.
“If everything goes as planned,” I assured her, grinning, “you will. We just need to get Miss Turner out of the way first.”
“Leave that to me. I know exactly what to do,” Arlene said.
The determination on her face scared me a little. She might stand five-foot-nothing, but she could be quite formidable when riled. “What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“I’ve always been a behind the scenes kind of gal, but I’m about to give the performance of a lifetime.” She turned to the young spirit. “Once she finds out Pammy is planning on playing Juliet, she’ll go bat shit crazy.” Arlene had obviously been picking up slang from the locals and wasn’t afraid to use it. “I guarantee she’ll demand to go on as Juliet.”
“Perfect.” Nate rubbed his hands together and smiled at the seamstress. “If you can get her in here and keep her busy, we’ll do the rest.”
“Oh, I can get her in here. That won’t be a problem. All I have to do is tell her I still have to refit Pammy’s gowns.” Arlene looked at the young actress. “This might be the greatest performance of your afterlife. Do you think you can go along with this plan?”
For a few seconds Pammy stared at the pile of gowns on the table. Her eyes roved over the material, and I could tell the gravity of the situation was finally setting in. My heart went out to her, but if everything went as planned, she’d still get her night on stage. After several seconds, she looked at us and said, “Let’s do it.”
HIDDEN at the back of the theater near the exit door, Nate and I stood watching the empty stage. Any minute now, Arlene would begin her performance. Thankfully, we hadn’t had any more encounters with the murderess, which allowed us to finalize our plan. Though I wasn’t fully convinced that Pammy had grasped the big picture, she was willing to do as Arlene asked and play the naïve understudy.
“Pammy!” Arlene strolled onto the stage and stopped in the center. The blue velvet gown draped limply over her one arm and the tape measure hanging around her neck were nice touches. The seamstress might have missed her calling. “Pammy, if you plan on playing Juliet tonight I need to finish altering your gown!”
“That should do it,” I whispered.
“I’d be highly surprised if it took more than a few seconds for her to…” He stopped midsentence and grinned. “Right on cue.”
Carolyn Turner materialized in front of Arlene. Even from our position we could see that she was angry. Her spine shot ramrod straight and she held her arms tight against her body, her hands fisted. “What are you shouting about, Arlene?”
“I’m talking about this dress.” She lifted the gown and shook it. “Have you seen Pammy? I need to get these alterations finished for her performance tonight.”
“She’s not performing tonight. I am.” Carolyn drifted closer, but to the old ghost’s credit, she didn’t retreat. “Like I do every year, I’m putting on my one-woman play not Romeo and Juliet.”
“That’s not what Mr. Parker said.” I had to hand it to Arlene, she remained cool in the face of the actresses boiling anger. “All I know is that some bigwig is coming tonight, and Mr. Parker wants to put on Romeo and Juliet to showcase everybody’s talent.”
“What bigwig? Why wasn’t I told about this? I’m the star, not that wretched understudy.” She stepped closer to the seamstress and pointed her finger at Arlene’s chest. “You’re going to re-alter all these dresses to fit me. I’ll be the one going out tonight, not Pammy. Do you understand?”
“Whatever you say? You’re the star.” Arlene pivoted and headed offstage, but Carolyn didn’t follow. Turning back, the old ghost tipped her head down and gave Carolyn her signature stare. “If you want these to fit right you need to come with me so I can pin them.” She headed offstage again, but I could hear her mumbling under her breath.
Inhaling a deep breath, Carolyn drew back her shoulders and glided gracefully offstage. Step one of the plan was a success, but the hardest part was still to come. Leaving our hiding spot, we bolted out of the theater and down the hall to Parker’s office. After discussing the best place to speak with him, we’d decided on the sitting room where I been attacked. It wasn’t my favorite place in the world, but more than likely it was his.
Though pieces of broken glass remained on the floor, the frames had been set back on the table. We filed into the room and I closed the door behind me, sealing us in. “Mr. Parker?” I waited, but when he didn’t appear after a couple of se
conds I called him again, this time a little louder. “Mr. Parker.”
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees, just as it had the first time we’d been in his office. I kept my eyes riveted on the fireplace where he’d originally shown himself, hoping he would do it again.
“I’m surprised you came back.”
I heard him before I saw him. And like I’d hoped, he materialized in the same spot near the fireplace. “Call me a glutton for punishment.”
“You’re not here to reap me, are you?” Again, he leaned his arm against the mantle, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “I told you before I can’t go yet.”
“No,” Nate said, “We’re not here to reap you. We were hoping you could answer some questions for us.”
“Fill in some missing information,” I added. “Do you mind if we sit down? This will only take a few minutes.”
“Please.” He gestured toward the two leather chairs and we sat. Before claiming a spot on the slate hearth, he flipped a switch, bringing the fireplace to life. “Don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t be cold, or hungry, or tired, or in pain when you’re a spirit. It may be a figment of my imagination, but my yearnings feel as real as when I was alive.”
This was news to me, but it made sense. Otherwise, why would ghosts linger on the physical plain? I for one had no intention of hanging around. There was a beach and margarita waiting for me in the afterlife and I planned on soaking up the sun.
He rubbed his hands together and held them in front of the fire, before turning and sitting down. “So, what can I help you with?”
Being true to form, Nate didn’t pull any punches and got directly to the point. “We need to know about Carolyn Turner.”
For an instant the ghost’s features tightened, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Can I assume you’ve figured out the truth?”
“We’re getting there, but we’d like you to fill in some of the blanks. I know that you stop somebody from choking me.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. “And if you hadn’t, I’d probably be dead. So, first of all, thank you for that.”
