“But why all the rest of it? Why pretend you had returned from the dead?” Aunt H. questioned.
“What?” That woke Roma up.
“Because Liana and the church would immediately come under suspicion. I needed people to start wondering if there was a good reason for you to take your life. People love ghost stories, so what better way to establish your guilt than to have my ghost accuse you of murder?”
“It’s not possible that you could deceive me,” Roma said. “There is a spirit here. I’ve made contact with it. Several times.”
“You were the easiest of all to fool.” Ogden smiled. With all that wild hair and the beard, he looked more like a pirate than his old self.
Roma said haughtily, “The only fool present is you.”
Had she even noticed he was holding a gun on us?
My cell phone rang.
Ogden jerked I realized he was more on edge than he seemed. Not a bad actor, Ogden. In fact, a very good actor.
“Don’t answer that,” he warned.
“I’m pretty sure it’s for you,” I said. “I’ve recorded as much of this as I could on Cassidy’s voice mail. He’s my only contact set up for Emergency Bypass.”
Ogden’s face changed. He raised the pistol. Liana screamed. Aunt H. stood in front of him.
“No!” I cried. “There’s no point. It’s over.”
And it was. All at once, the hall outside seemed full of voices and footsteps. Heavy blows rained down on the double doors of the dining room. The doors rattled in the frame.
A deep voice boomed, “This is Police Chief Kingsland. In the name of the law, open this door!”
I had no idea cops actually said “in the name of the law.” Or maybe that was just Kingsland. He was pretty old school.
Instead of shooting, Ogden grabbed Aunt H., holding her in front of him as the double doors burst open. Kingsland and the mob of uniformed officers behind him halted in the doorway, weapons drawn.
Suddenly the room smelled of gun oil, leather, and rain. Alien. Dangerous. I felt sick with the knowledge that the scales could tip the wrong way. The moment stretched and stretched, seeming to balance on a razor’s edge.
“Don’t be stupid, Foxworth,” Kingsland said. “You’ve got one chance of walking out of here alive.”
“I’m so sorry, Kenneth,” Aunt H. burst out. “I thought it was you. I thought you sabotaged his car.” She looked and sounded way too calm for someone with a gun pointed at her head, and I knew she believed she was going to die.
“It’s all right, Hallie,” Kingsland said gruffly. “I’m happy to kill him for you now.”
Nobody’s gun so much as wavered, but I could see the officers’ eyes sort of flickering and looking sideways.
Ogden laughed. He sounded a little hysterical. “I thought so. That’s exactly what I thought. And under my own roof!”
Someone answered him, but I don’t know who and I didn’t hear what they said. A panel in the wall behind Ogden slid soundlessly open. Seamus stepped out, his weapon trained on Ogden’s back. He began to move cautiously toward Ogden and Aunt H.
My heart stood still. If a floorboard squeaked—and the floorboards in this old house always squeaked—Ogden would swing around and shoot Seamus. I could think of nothing to do to help. The two people I cared about most in the world might die in the next instant—while I had to stand helplessly by, watching. Even if every cop present shot Ogden, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t have time to squeeze the trigger.
Seamus’s face was white and set. Wet hair was plastered against his forehead, and his jacket was dripping. Each drop seemed to hit the floor like a cannonball, but I don’t think Ogden heard anything. I think it was the alert stillness of the men watching Seamus from the doorway that warned him just as Seamus got within arm’s length.
Ogden cast a quick, alarmed look over his shoulder, saw Seamus, and hurled Aunt H. into him. Aunt H. stumbled, Seamus hauled her behind him, and Ogden dived for the door in the wall. The panel slid shut with a snap.
The cops rushed into the room.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t believe it,” Kingsland roared. “Get that sonofabitch.”
I reached Seamus, who grabbed my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yes. Fine. Are you crazy? You could have been sh—”
He was already gone, running out into the hall, which was crowded with still more uniformed officers spreading out through the rooms and thundering up the staircase.
“Where does that passageway end?” Kingsland shouted.
Aunt H. was shaking her head. “I didn’t know there was a passageway.”
“I want every room in this house searched top to bottom—and get them out of here!”
“There’s got to be an entrance in the study,” I called.
“Check the study,” Kingsland ordered as a group of sheriff deputies—was every law-enforcement agency in the county here?—hustled us all out of the dining room and into the central hall.
“I don’t understand,” Roma was protesting all the way down the length of the hall. “You don’t understand. You don’t realize what you’re dealing with.”
Liana—Lacey—was sobbing and calling for Ogden.
I put my arm around Aunt H.’s shoulders. “It’s all right now, darling,” I told her, and she patted my hand as though she was reassuring me.
“Oh, Artie. Sending for you was the best decision I’ve made in five years.” Though she was shivering, there was color in her cheeks and light in her eyes. She almost looked like the old Aunt H.
I was beyond relief on multiple fronts. “So that was the big secret? You thought Chief Kingsland arranged an accident for Ogden? And you felt you were to blame?”
She nodded. Tears glistened in her eyes. Not for Ogden or herself. Tears for Chief Kingsland. How the hell had I missed that development? But then, I hadn’t been there for that development—just the years of loyal friendship that preceded it.
“Kenneth was up for reappointment, and Ogden threatened to send a letter to the city council telling them that we had…were…”
“Ogden tried to blackmail the chief of police?”
“He was completely unbalanced by the end.”
“You think?”
She opened her mouth to remonstrate, but there was a blood-curdling scream from overhead.
“Holy shit!” someone yelled. “Look out!”
A body came hurtling down from the third story, crashing against the white banisters and just missing the eight-arm macaroni bead crystal chandelier before smashing facedown on the gold-and-black Aubusson carpet.
The giant gilt-framed portrait of my aunt gazed quizzically down on all that remained of the late and mostly unlamented Oscar Foxworth.
Epilogue
“What I want to know is how the hell did you find the opening to that secret passage in time?” I asked Seamus.
It was three o’clock in the morning, and we were spooned together in bed in the chauffeur’s quarters. We were not trying to sleep, though. Both of us were too wound up. Every light in the place was on.
The main house too was still ablaze, but it was empty—of anyone living, at least. Crime-scene tape roped off the drive, and sheriff deputies were posted at each entrance. Liana—I still had trouble thinking of her as Lacey—had been hospitalized for shock, Roma had, presumably, gone home to consult her Ouija board, and Aunt H. had left with Chief Kingsland.
Seamus kissed my shoulder. “I didn’t. I was waiting for Foxworth to arrive. I just followed him in.”
“You were here at the house the whole time?”
“No. After your message about interviewing Lenton’s wife, I busted my butt to get back here. When I saw him sneak across the drive and cut the phone lines, I knew you were right. Whatever was going to happen would happen tonight.”
I shivered, and his arms tightened. “Warm enough?”
I nodded. Had to clear my throat. “What you did tonight. That was…”
“A little thea
trical?” he finished wryly.
I shook my head. “Brave. The bravest thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.”
He grunted.
“And please don’t ever do it again.”
“Me? My heart stopped when I heard you ask him why he’d killed Tarrant.”
I admitted, “I got a little carried away in the heat of the moment.”
My head bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. “Anyway. All part of the job.” He added with elaborate casualness, “Although, for the record, there’s not a lot of death and danger in the Financial Crimes Unit. In case that’s a concern.”
I was following my own thoughts. “You didn’t think my suspicions of Reverend Ormston were a little far-fetched?”
“Yeah, I sort of did. I mean, at one point in this scheme he would have had to be appearing as both Reverend Harry Ormston and Ogden Hyde. Even if he was mostly interacting within two largely different social circles, it was still a huge risk.”
“One thing he never lacked was confidence.”
“That’s the truth.”
I wanted to thank him again. I wanted to ask him what his plans were and whether he would be returning to New York soon. Or at all.
I opened my mouth, and he said, “I also thought it wasn’t a coincidence Tarrant’s car had been left near the RCU’s old headquarters. Plus, I always thought that beard looked fake.”
No question of whose beard he was referring to. “It wasn’t fake, though. He did grow his hair and beard out.”
“All the same, something about him always struck me as phony.”
“Well, yeah.”
The rain thundering down on the roof filled in the silence between us.
After a time, I asked, “Where do you think Tarrant’s body is? In one of the passageways?”
“I doubt it. There are practical reasons not to try to store a body in a house. Even a house the size of Green Lanterns. He must have dumped it into the bay when he dropped the car off.”
I mused that over, shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“No?”
I recalled the glowing light that had drawn Liana into the maze. “My best guess is it’s somewhere in the maze. In a shallow grave. I bet that’s where he kept Lenton’s body too. That would explain why there was barely any body left, let alone any DNA.”
“God,” Seamus muttered.
We didn’t speak after that, but the silence felt safe, comfortable. “Should we try to sleep?” Seamus whispered.
I nodded, although I was a little afraid of what my dreams would be like. He let go of me, sat up, turned off the lamp, and burrowed back down beside me in the blankets.
“I should turn off that living-room light,” he muttered. “But I don’t think I have the energy to walk that far.”
We breathed in soft unison, his breath warm against my ear.
“When are you going back to New York?” he asked abruptly, sounding unexpectedly wide-awake.
I opened my eyes, gazed at the oblong of light from the living room stretching across the carpet. “As soon as things have settled down here. You?”
I held my breath, waiting for his reply.
“There are some loose ends to tie up, but probably next week.”
My heart lightened. I nodded.
He began tentatively, “Do you think you’d want to…”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
“Really?”
“Yes. Of course yes.”
“That’s great! What a relief,” Seamus said, and it sounded heartfelt.
I laughed and craned my head to kiss him. “Is it? What did you imagine was happening here?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure. I was worried maybe this was just kind of a holiday romance for you.”
“You have a peculiar idea of going on holiday. We’ll have to work on that.” I was still smiling, and I could feel the line of his cheek crease in response.
“Suits me.”
I closed my eyes again, willed myself to sleep. But I kept thinking about what I had seen in my bedroom that evening—and then later during the séance.
I thought from the even tenor of his breathing, Seamus had drifted off, but he said softly, his thoughts seemingly running along the same lines as mine, “If Foxworth was telling the truth…if it wasn’t him…what was it?”
I didn’t answer.
“You don’t think—?”
“I don’t know.”
“That deputy sure as hell saw something on the third floor. There was no open window for the fog to get in. But somehow Foxworth, who’s been skulking around in the dark up there for the last year, got so disoriented and panicked, he fell over the banister?”
I will never rest until you have paid for what you did…
“I don’t think we’re ever going to know. And maybe there are some things it’s better not to question.”
“Maybe,” Seamus said. He yawned so widely, I heard his jaw crack. “But whoever said that didn’t have to fill out a police report.”
A few minutes later he was snoring quietly, musically into my ear.
I wished I could turn down the burner on my thoughts. Maybe Hart Lenton’s ghost had played a role. Maybe Roma was really psychic—if a bit hit and miss. Did that mean Tony’s spirit truly had appeared during the first séance?
He says you must not blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done.
I was surprised at much I longed for that to be true. It would be nice to believe…
I sighed. The band of light from the living room fell squarely across my face. I should just make the effort to get up and turn it off.
I grabbed the blankets, started to pull them back, and the living-room lamp flicked off. I sank back against Seamus and gazed out the rain-streaked window. I could see the pale, smiling face of the moon gazing in at us.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Heartfelt thanks to Keren Reed and Kevin Smith.
About the Author
Author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure, and unapologetic man-on-man Romance, JOSH LANYON’S work has been translated into eleven languages. Her FBI thriller Fair Game was the first Male/Male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, then the largest Romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016, Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan’s annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list). The Adrien English series was awarded the All Time Favorite Couple by the Goodreads M/M Romance Group.
Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist (twice for Gay Mystery), and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads All Time Favorite M/M Author award.
Josh is married and lives in Southern California.
Find other Josh Lanyon titles at www.joshlanyon.com
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If you enjoyed this story, check the following titles by Josh Lanyon:
Novels
The ADRIEN ENGLISH Mysteries
Fatal Shadows
A Dangerous Thing
The Hell You Say
Death of a Pirate King
The Dark Tide
Stranger Things Have Happened
So This is Christmas
The HOLMES & MORIARITY Mysteries
Somebody Killed His Editor
All She Wrote
The Boy with the Painful Tattoo
In Other Words… Murder
The ALL’S FAIR Trilogy
Fair Game
Fair Play
Fair Chance
The ART OF MURDER Trilogy
The Mermaid Murders
The Monet Murders
The Magician Murders
Other no
vels
This Rough Magic (A SHOT IN THE DARK Series)
The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks
Mexican Heat (with Laura Baumbach)
Strange Fortune
Come Unto These Yellow Sands
Stranger on the Shore
Winter Kill
Jefferson Blythe, Esquire
Murder in Pastel
The Curse of the Blue Scarab
Murder Takes the High Road
Novellas
The DANGEROUS GROUND Series
Dangerous Ground
Old Poison
Blood Heat
Dead Run
Kick Start
The I SPY Series
I Spy Something Bloody
I Spy Something Wicked
I Spy Something Christmas
The IN A DARK WOOD Series
In a Dark Wood
The Parting Glass
The DARK HORSE Series
The Dark Horse
The White Knight
Snowball in Hell (DOYLE & SPAIN Series)
Haunted Heart: Winter (HAUNTED HEART Series)
Mummy Dearest (XOXO FILES Series)
Other novellas
Cards on the Table
The Dark Farewell
The Darkling Thrush
The Dickens with Love
Don’t Look Back
A Ghost of a Chance
Lovers and Other Strangers
Out of the Blue
A Vintage Affair
Lone Star (in Men Under the Mistletoe)
Green Glass Beads (in Irregulars)
Blood Red Butterfly
Everything I Know
Baby, It’s Cold (in Comfort and Joy)
A Case of Christmas
Murder Between the Pages
Short stories
A Limited Engagement
The French Have a Word for It
In Sunshine or In Shadow
Until We Meet Once More
Icecapade (in His for the Holidays)
Perfect Day
Seance on a Summer's Night Page 23
