The Seance (12 page)

“I'm working it from the private sector,” Jed explained, and looked down at Marcie, who grew pale.

“Sit down,” Marcie said. “I'll tell you what I told the cops. I ran into Patti Jo after her shift. We talked about going to a Halloween party on the thirty-first, after we got off. She was in a good mood. Then she headed to the employee parking lot, and that was the last time I saw her.” Tears suddenly welled in her eyes.

“Thank you, Marcie,” Jed told her.

“She wasn't stupid!” Marcie blurted out. “She wouldn't have gone off with a stranger.”

“Marcie, it's all right,” Dan murmured, looking helplessly at Jed. There was a slight spark of irritation in his eyes, as if he were saying, She's already been through this with the cops. Just how bad do you want to make her feel?

“Honest to God, she just wouldn't have gone off with a stranger or with anyone she didn't trust,” Marcie said. “Oh, my God! I have a shift tonight,” she said, as if she'd just realized it.

“Me, too,” Dan told her. “So I'll walk you to your car, and I'll follow you home.”

“Point me to the employee parking lot?” Jed said.

Dan nodded. “I'll do better. I'll take you to the exit Patti Jo used and point the way to the lot where they found her car.”

Marcie gave him a hug before they left. Were the two of them just friends? Jed wondered. Or more?

As at all the parks, the hall was part of an entire network that ran underground, so the comings and goings of the employees never had to intrude on the excitement above. The walls were painted with creatures, some friendly-looking, others grotesque, to indicate which section of the park they were beneath, and the corridors seemed to go on forever, with doors to dressing, locker, meeting and dining rooms along the way, as well as storage rooms and offices. Sometimes the halls were empty. Sometimes they were passed by a horde of people.

Finally they reached the door Patti Jo had used, which opened onto a huge parking lot enclosed by a fence. In the distance, Jed could see a guardhouse at the gate. Surrounding the lot were trees, nothing but trees. The new park had been built far enough away from the other parks that it was practically in the woods.

“Did you know her well?” Jed asked Dan.

“Pretty well,” Dan said softly.

“And?”

“She was nice. She got along with everyone.” His voice hardened. “But like Marcie said, she wasn't a fool.”

“So…she walked out to the parking lot and she wasn't seen again until she was found off the highway?” Jed murmured to himself as they headed back to the cafeteria.

“It's scary, huh?” Dan said, studying Jed. “What do you think it is, then? The ghost of Beau Kidd, come back to kill again?”

“I don't think ghosts commit murder,” Jed told him. “But then again, what the hell do I know?”

“If I can help in any way…” Dan offered.

“Sure.”

“This is personal for me now, you know?” Dan said.

“Yeah,” Jed agreed.

The two men said goodbye outside the cafeteria. Jed looked inside before he left. Marcie McDonnagh was still sitting where they had left her. A redhead. Jed could almost picture her lying on the autopsy table, just as Patti Jo had been today, as Sherri Mason had been earlier….

Redheads. Beautiful redheads.

Were they all interchangeable in the killer's mind?

He swore softly, afraid. As soon as he could get a signal, he flipped open his cell phone and called Christina's house.

No one picked up.

He ran for his car and started driving as quickly as he could in her direction.

Irrational? Hell, yes. But a sense of dread was growing within him, and he was powerless against it.

“H
a,” Christina said, opening her front door.

Killer, woofing loudly, ran in ahead of her.

“I have a dog now!” she called out. “A ferocious dog. He will bark and rip out the throat of anyone who dares to sneak in to play a prank on me.”

There was no answer from inside, not that she'd really expected there to be. In fact, as she entered, she couldn't help but feel slightly foolish, especially because there was nothing out of order.

She let out a soft sigh, following the dog through the house. He was curious and wanted to explore everything.

After they finished the circuit, she set down a bowl of water for him in the kitchen. Killer lapped up a bit, then stared at her, his tail wagging a thousand beats a minute. “So, you like it here?” she asked.

He wagged his tail some more.

The phone rang, and Killer gave one sharp bark, as if in warning.

“Hello?” she said, picking up the receiver.

Killer barked again.

“It's me. Dan. What the hell was that?” her cousin demanded over the line.

“My dog.”

“Dog?” he said with a groan.

“You're going to love him.”

“Right. I'm going to love some big, slobbering beast that will eat my shoes if I step out of them,” Dan said.

“You'll love him, trust me,” Christina said. “So, what's up?”

“I'm just calling to check up on you. You didn't answer your cell when I just tried you.”

“Sorry, I left my bag in the front hall when I came in,” she told him. “So what has you so worried?”

She heard him let out a long sigh. “Didn't you hear about the latest victim?” he finally asked. “Christie, she worked here. I knew her.”

“Oh, Dan, I'm so sorry,” Christina said.

“I'm worried sick about you and Ana now.”

“Don't be. We're smart, and careful and now I have a dog.”

“You gonna be around later? I worked the early shift today, so I've got some time before I have to go back for my Grim Reader duties.”

“I'll be here. Come on by if you want.”

“Jed was here earlier.”

“He was?”

“Seems he thinks he's a detective again.”

“He is, a private detective. I guess he's wondering if the case was ever really solved.”

“Yeah. Well, you take care, understand?”

“Of course.”

She hung up, but she had barely replaced the receiver before the phone rang again. This time it was her cousin Mike.

“Christie?”

“Yes. What's up, Mike?”

“Nothing, just calling to see if you're okay.”

“I'm great. Thank you.”

“Glad to hear it. Um…you don't have any late nights planned, do you?”

“No, I don't. And yes, I know another woman was killed. But guess what? I bought a dog.”

“A dog.”

“You know. Woof, woof.”

“Great. I guess. A big one?”

“His name is Killer. You'll have to come meet him.”

“I'll do that. Seriously…you need to be careful.”

“I will. I promise. Dan's going to come by later to meet Killer. Why don't you come, too?”

“Sure. If I can get out of here at a reasonable hour. Listen…” His voice trailed away. “Take care, okay?”

“You, too.”

She rang off and stared at Killer, who was still madly wagging his tail. He cocked his head at her, and she let out a sigh. She had gotten her dog, but it was too late now to get a locksmith out until tomorrow. Not that it mattered. The only two people who had keys to the house were her cousins. Who loved her. Who were worried about her.

She was still going to have the locks changed, she decided.

But for tonight…

“I have Killer,” she murmured.

He looked up at her as if he were hanging on her every word. Then his tail stopped wagging and he began to bark like a mad thing before he turned and raced toward the front door.

As he ran, she heard the doorbell chime.

She strode to the door and looked out. She felt as if her heart caught in her throat, then was annoyed with herself for the pleasure that swept through her.

Jed.

She told herself not to get carried away. He was Ana's cousin. It only made sense—especially after last night—that he felt obliged to check up on her.

“It's all right, Killer,” she murmured as she opened the door. He stood by her side, wagging his tail but still barking maniacally.

“Shh, it's all right,” she told the dog again. “Jed, what a surprise. Come on in.”

Jed stared at the dog, then stared at her. “Killer?”

“Are you coming in?” she demanded with a sigh, then started for the parlor without waiting for an answer.

He followed, but not before closing and locking the door in his wake. He found Christina sitting on the piano bench, but she indicated that he should take one of the comfortable wing chairs.

As soon as he did so, Killer jumped onto his lap, tail wagging as he tried to shower Jed with kisses.

“Killer?” Jed asked again.

“When I adopted him, that was already his name.”

“Christina, this is a Jack Russell terrier.”

“I know.”

“Sit,” Jed firmly ordered the dog. Killer did so, sitting calmly on his lap and staring at him as if he were the most marvelous human ever to occupy the earth.

“He's very well behaved,” Christina said.

“I…uh, don't want to burst any bubbles here, but Jack Russells aren't what usually come to mind when someone is thinking guard dog,” Jed told her, looking a little bemused. His hair was slightly ruffled, and the rueful smile tugging at his features was extremely attractive, she thought.

“He has a great bark,” Christina said, defending her dog.

“Yes, he has a great bark.” Jed cleared his throat. “Were they all out of German shepherds?”

“They were.”

“I see.”

“He wasn't second best or anything. They had lots of bigger dogs. It was just that he came flying out and…and…”

“And picked you,” Jed said.

“Kind of,” Christina agreed.

“And the idea is that he'll warn you if anyone comes around?”

She smiled. “Why are you so worried? You don't believe anyone has been here. You think I'm emotionally disturbed.”

“Not emotionally disturbed,” Jed protested. “Just…hurting,” he said after a moment.

He patted the dog for a few moments, which somehow kept the silence from growing too awkward as it stretched between them.

“I hear you were out at the new park,” she said at last. “Dan told me the second woman who was murdered was one of his friends.”

“Yeah,” Jed said, looking down at the dog.

“Are you…investigating?” she queried.

“Sort of.”

“But you're not on the force anymore,” she reminded him.

He lifted his eyes to stare at her then. “Actually,” he said, “I have a client.”

“A client?” she echoed with a frown.

“Beau Kidd had a younger sister.”

Christina almost fell off the piano bench. “Beau Kidd had a younger sister…and she's hired you to investigate?”

“Go figure, huh?” he murmured.

“But…your book really did kind of…”

Her voice trailed away weakly.

“I know.”

“So what's his sister like?” she inquired.

“I haven't really gotten to know her,” he said.

“Did she…call you up? How did she find you?”

“We were both in the cemetery,” he said as he picked up the dog and stood, then set Killer down on the floor. “Congratulations on the new addition to the family.”

She ignored his last comment and said, “You met Beau Kidd's sister in the cemetery—and she hired you?”

“Kind of.”

“But…” she began, and then the rest of the words froze in her throat. The cemetery was one of the oldest in the area, but it was still accepting the dead. Her grandparents were both there, as were her parents.

And so was his wife. He must have been at Margaritte's grave.

He stared at her, and a strange look came over his face. When he spoke, his words sounded harsh. “Actually, I don't know why, but I went to see Beau Kidd's grave.”

“I see,” she murmured, though she didn't see at all. He seemed so distant, all of a sudden, even though she'd known him for so long.

She admitted that she had spent most of her life being fascinated with Jed. When he had married Margaritte, she had told herself that he was just Ana's older cousin, someone she'd idolized but not someone she'd ever really hoped to end up with. She had a life, loved her music, had a few serious relationships along the way.

And yet…

He'd always been there for her. Strong, quiet, always saying the right things.

As she watched him sit there, she knew that she loved the contours of his face, the power of his build. But that wasn't why he stayed in her mind, like something etched into her heart.

There was something deeper in him. In those eyes, in the sound of his voice, in his soul, his mind.

Something that made her long to see him.

Something that made her draw back when she did.

He seemed to be deep in thought, but finally he spoke. “There's a chance Beau was innocent. If so, I need to do everything in my power to help clear his name. Naturally his sister wants the same thing.”

“Damn it, Jed, none of it was your fault. It wasn't your case. You're a writer.”

“I'm a private eye, when I choose to be,” he said coolly. “I have the license to prove it.”

“But…”

“But what?”

“I don't know,” she said at last. “I think getting involved in this could be dangerous.”

He walked over to her and, to her surprise, lifted her chin with his thumb. “I can't help feeling that not looking into it could prove to be even more dangerous,” he told her. He stepped back then. “Well, I guess I should get going. The, uh…hmm, is it really a whole dog?” he said lightly, teasingly. “The little mutt is great.”

“Killer,” she said indignantly.

“Killer. Right.”

He smiled.

She was in love, she thought.

“If he'll keep you from imagining that things in the house are moving around, he'll definitely be worth his Alpo,” he told her.

Her spine stiffened. “Right. Thanks so much for coming by, Jed.”

“You should probably get those locks changed, though, you know.”

“I was already planning to. Maybe I should lock up my imagination, too,” she suggested.

“Christie, I wasn't trying to—”

“It's all right.”

“Yeah, well…those locks are older than the hills. Who knows who has a key? Your gran might have given them to anyone. It won't hurt to change them.”

She nodded and rose. “For the moment, I'll just have to use the locks I have.”

He took the hint. “Take care.”

With Killer in her arms, she followed him to the door. The dog whined as she watched Jed head down the walk to his car, then looked at her.

“Yeah, I know, he looks great, sounds great, even smells great. But he can be a real asshole,” she told the dog.

Killer just wagged his tail.

 

Michael McDuff's offices were on International Drive, and he was very glad to be far away from the insanity of the parks. He liked what he did; he made a decent income by putting together the pieces of a production: talent, direction and money, even costuming and effects, but he was grateful he didn't have to be physically on the spot when everything merged. On the side, he'd also been working on the creation of a children's show, driven by a desire to overcome the prejudice he so often saw in the business.

All the parks employed actors, and they weren't usually discriminated against because of color, nationality, religion or sexual persuasion. But there was a pecking order, and it wasn't controlled by talent but by what amounted to luck: who'd been on a TV show, who had been in a commercial, who had at least been in a park show before, all the way down to the hopefuls with no experience at all but lots of drive and often more talent than those at the top.

Far too often he had to deal with a nasty little ten-year-old who thought the world owed her everything because she'd lucked into the role of fairy princess, or a fifteen-year-old who bossed around his parents and made sure to tell everyone he was tops because some commercial director thought he looked cute drinking a big glass of Florida orange juice. He wanted to create a show that gave lots of children with real talent a chance to get experience, so they would have a chance, now and later, to showcase that talent not just locally but anywhere there were performing jobs.