Giving Up the Ghost (15 page)

When their main courses arrived, Gabbie offered Darren part of her Chilean sea bass,
and he gave her a lamb chop. "Next time you must try their special shrimp dish. It's
outrageous."

"Sure, why not?" Gabbie agreed, smiling at his reference to a "next time" and what it
might mean.

It means nothing. Come July, you'll be living somewhere else, and everyone from
Chrissom Harbor will be memories.

"This is a nice place. Great food. Elegant yet cozy."

He beckoned her closer, and leaned across the table. "Don't stare," he whispered, "but
isn't that Fred Leverette, with some woman who definitely isn't Jill?"

Discretely Gabbie followed his gaze. At a table considerably smaller than theirs near the
back wall, Fred Leverette was conversing intently with his dining companion. She was on the young
side of thirty and as drab as her brown dress. Her granny glasses and long, mouse-brown hair
reminded Gabbie of the flower children of the Sixties. But her small, plain face glowed with vitality
as she nodded in agreement with whatever Fred was saying.

Darren grinned. "Sly dog! Who would have thought...?"

"That louse! I bet she's the reason he stayed late at the lab last night."

Darren gave her an amused smile. "I say good for Fred. He and Jill should have split
years ago. They both think they're doing Theo a favor by staying together, but they're not."

"Oh, Cam, what a fool you were."

Darren gripped her arm. "What did you say?"

"Ouch!" Gabbie shook free. "I was merely thinking it's too bad she and Cam never got
married," she improvised as she went along. "I heard they were involved. Chrissom Harbor's not the
sleepy town I thought it was. It's a hotbed of sex and adultery."

"Well, I wasn't fooling around. Allison couldn't take my hours. Soon we were arguing
over stupid things, like whose turn it was to go grocery shopping."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You were married, weren't you?"

She paused, then said, "For six years--three good, one bad, two awful."

Darren laughed. "Mine went two good, two bad, one awful." When she said nothing, he
continued, "And I've no intention of going that route again. I'm one of those cops who's better off
single. I don't have the time to devote to the institution of marriage."

"Institution? That it is." She ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach. Determined to
prove that his decision to remain single was one she supported, Gabbie raised her wine glass. He
touched it with his and drank deeply.

They lingered over dessert and coffee, and then headed for home. Darren drove fast,
but Gabbie felt safe, trusting his quick reflexes as he followed the curves in the road. She let her
head fall back against the headrest.

"Tired?" he said.

"A little."

His hand found hers on her lap and he squeezed. "I want us to be good friends."

"Sure." She tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but he held fast.

"Scared?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I've been through an emotional battering and I need my
space."

"I can understand that. It takes guts not only to divorce a rotten husband, but help put
him away by testifying against him."

Gabbie jerked her hand free and turned on him. "You bastard! You used your police
connections to spy on me."

"It wasn't spying. I merely made some inquires," he said. "I knew something major was
bugging you. I had to know if I had a murderess on my hands."

Her laugh held no humor. "Thanks a lot! Admit it, you were being plain nosy."

"Interested," he conceded.

"It isn't fair," she said, though most of her anger had evaporated. "You can access
information about me, but I can't about you."

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," he said.

"It's not the same thing." She wouldn't let him see how moved she was by his offer.

"Besides, as police chief of CH, I'd think you'd want to have me as your good
friend."

Her racing heart pumped even faster. Half of her wanted to scream, "Let me out of this
car." The other half wanted him to kiss her. "I think I do, too. But I'm not sure what it means."

"It means this."

Easing the car onto the shoulder of the road, he turned off the motor. He put his arms
around her and pressed his lips to hers. He started the kiss slowly, giving her time to become
familiar with his feel and touch.

She breathed in his taste and his tangy aftershave, stirred yet completely relaxed.

"Mmm," he murmured. "This feels nice."

"Yes, it does," she agreed, pleased he was a talker and not one of those men who
remained silent when they made love, as though what his body did had nothing to do with him.

Darren shifted, putting one arm around her shoulders as he pressed closer. She
snuggled into his embrace, shivered when his fingers stroked the nape of her neck. It felt delicious.
Exciting yet familiar. So much time had gone by since she'd been with a man, she'd forgotten the
glory of it all.

Slowly, he released her, a broad grin lighting up his face. "I knew it would be like this for
us."

"Like what?"

"Like wonderful."

"Is that why you stopped?"

He turned on the ignition, looked around carefully before edging back on the road.
"Absolutely. Think I want to frighten you away?"

"You can't frighten me," she said.

"Oh, yes, I can." And then he was whistling. She could have smacked his face for being so
pleased with himself.

She felt comfortable in the silence as they continued on their way. Gabbie liked the way
their fingers intertwined, their hands rested on his right thigh, which felt as solid and sturdy as an
oak tree. This time the Waldstein sonata filled the air. At the cottage, he pulled onto the rutted
driveway and stopped behind her car. He made no move to shut off the motor.

"Come on in," she invited.

He hesitated, and when he turned questioningly to her, Gabbie realized he was every bit
as nervous as she was. But right now intimacy was the last thing on her mind.

"I want to show you something." She tugged at his arm. "I promise not to jump your
bones."

He smiled. "Okay. I could use your john."

"Great! I mean, good." That would give her enough time to put her plan into action.

She unlocked the front door. As Darren went upstairs, Gabbie flew into the den and
switched on the lamp. "Cam, are you here?"

Silence.

"Cam, please come."

Nothing.

"Dammit! You're never around when I need you."

She felt the cold air before he materialized, a knowing smile on his handsome face. "And
here I was trying to be tactful. I figured you and Darren might want some after-dinner personal
time on the couch."

Gabbie glared at him. "Leave my personal life out of this and get serious. When Darren
comes in here, I want you to tell him what happened the day you were murdered."

Cam shook his head as he dropped into his old desk chair. "You should have told him,
gently and gradually. Darren won't believe his eyes when he sees me. He'll think someone put hash
in his mashed potatoes."

Startled, she said, "How did you know he ordered mashed potatoes tonight?"

"Because they're his comfort food. He eats them most nights. Now I think I'll leave."

"Cam, don't be a coward. Please stay so he knows I'm not a madwoman talking to the
air. Damn, where's that note I found this afternoon?"

"You put it on top of the bookcase."

"Oh, right!" She heard Darren's footsteps on the stairs. "Now don't go disappearing, you
hear!"

She turned off the light and met Darren in the hall.

"Where you talking to someone?" he said. "I thought I heard voices."

"Just to myself." She walked into the kitchen. "Want a cup of coffee?"

"Water will be fine."

He sat down at the table. Gabbie filled a glass at the sink and handed it to him. "Let's sit
in the den. It's more comfortable in there"

"Decided to seduce me, after all?"

"I'm considering it."

"In Cam's den of iniquity? I'd like something more romantic for you and me."

Her heart thundered as she tossed back, "I promise you'll never forget what happens
tonight."

She sat down on the couch and motioned for him to sit beside her. Stirred as she was by
his nearness, she focused on Cam. Come on, Cam, she called silently. What are you waiting for?

To her gratification, he materialized and faced them from across the room.

Darren turned pale. He started to hyperventilate, and moments passed before he could
speak. "My God. Am I drunk, or stoned, or out of my skull?"

"Hi there, old pal. Long time, no see." Cam turned to Gabbie. "How's that for an opening
line? Worthy of Peter Lorre, don't you think?"

"It'll do." She put an arm around Darren's shoulder, felt him sink momentarily against
her before he sat erect, his hand to his forehead. "That's not Cam. It can't be."

"Wrong, Darren, old pal. It's as close to me in the flesh as I can get. I'm still on this plane
because I have to know who killed me. Believe me, it was no accident."

Darren gazed down at the carpet, shaking his head. "This isn't happening. It can't be
happening."

Cam came closer and snapped his fingers. "Come on, pal, I need your help. I'll start
fading in a couple of minutes."

Gabbie glared at Cam. "Give him a chance to get used to you like this. It's a shock to his
nervous system."

"You weren't this shocked the first time you saw me," Cam complained.

"Of course, I was, and I didn't even know you. You weren't my best friend suddenly
making a comeback as a ghost."

Darren gulped down what remained of his water, which triggered a coughing jag.
Gabbie pounded his back.

"There's no such thing as ghosts." His eyes narrowed. "Unless this is some kind of a
trick. Cam was the master of practical jokes."

"Well, I'm not," Gabbie said. "Believe me, Cam's here." When he didn't answer, she
slipped her hand in his. "Please, Darren, try to relax. Listen to what he has to say."

Darren shrugged, still staring at the carpet. He flinched when Cam stepped in front of
him.

"It's me, Dar, or what's left of me on this plane. I can only appear in this room, and not
for long, so trust your eyes and your ears."

Darren opened his mouth, and then shut it. "All right. I'm listening."

"I was drinking that afternoon as I packed my bags. Jill came, we had words, and I drank
some more."

For the first time, Darren spoke directly to Cam. "How much liquor did you
consume?"

"I don't know. A lot. More than I'd had in years."

"Then what happened?"

"I was sitting at my desk, trying to take care of last minute business. Had a Ray Charles
CD going pretty loud. Suddenly I felt this blinding pain at the back of my head. Then nothing. I must
have passed out."

"A Ray Charles CD was in the player," Darren murmured, as though Cam had finally
presented him with proof he could believe. He met Cam's eyes. "And there was a contusion at the
back of your head." He shook his head. "Christ, this is weird."

"Not half as weird as it is for me."

"Did you see who struck you?" Darren said.

"Nope. That's the problem."

"Smell a whiff of perfume? Aftershave lotion? Remember hearing a sound?"

"The CD was blasting, and I had trouble concentrating. Even using a calculator, the
numbers kept running off the page." He laughed. "Thinking coherently wasn't easy with all the gin I
was putting away."

"What time was this?" Gabbie said.

"I've no idea," Cam answered. "Jill left around four-fifteen, four-twenty, so it was some
time after that."

"Still light out?" Darren said.

"Yep. I'm pretty sure it was."

Darren nodded. "That tallies. The two boys found the--er--you at seven-thirty." He
swallowed. "Doc Bradley said death occurred two to three hours earlier."

"Between four-thirty and five-thirty," Gabbie mused. "What time was your flight,
Cam?"

"Ten after nine. A car service was picking me up at six-thirty to drive me to MacArthur
Airport."

Gabbie turned to Darren. "What did the driver do when his passenger didn't
appear?"

"He says he knocked a few times. No one answered, so he went around to the back,
found the sliding doors unlocked, and he went inside. He says he shouted up the stairs but didn't go
upstairs. Figured no one was home, so he called the dispatcher, who told him to go on to his next
pick up. Barrett and Ross found you an hour or so later on the beach."

"Any chance that they did it?" Cam said.

Darren shook his head. "There was no sign of a struggle. You were drunk, Cam. It was
dark. You fell and died of a broken neck."

"So you say."

"So Doc Bradley says."

Cam snorted. "That old quack is growing senile and should have retired years ago.
Trouble is, you're pig-headed. You decided it was death by misadventure and won't listen to what
really happened."

Darren stood up. "Oh, yeah? Dead or alive, you're not giving me much help to prove
otherwise."

Gabbie cleared her throat. "I'd better show you the note."

"Don't forget the phone call," Cam said.

Darren threw Gabbie a look of disbelief. "What phone call? What note? You never
mentioned either one."

Gabbie walked over to the bookcase and retrieved the note. "I found this in my mailbox
today, along with a dead mouse."

Darren read the note, and turned his head to stare at her. "You waited until now to show
me this?"

"I told you I had something I wanted you to see. Besides, I didn't want to ruin our
evening."

"Didn't you?" His face drained of all expression. Suddenly he was all cop. "At least you
had the good sense to put it in a plastic bag. I'll take it to the lab. Check it for fingerprints. Where's
the mouse?"

"I threw it into the woods."