Dead People (38 page)

The bus engine grew louder as it pulled away. Isabel flew around the last curve, passing a parked taxi, and saw a black-haired woman on her knees just inside the long driveway, out of sight from the bus driver, holding Erin.

“Mama, you’ve come to take me away,” Erin cried, her arms tight around the woman’s neck.

“I can’t, baby, not right now.” The dark-haired woman half sobbed. “I’m in rehab again and for the first time I actually want to make it. I knew you’d be worried, so I snuck out. They think I’m at the doctor’s, but I had to fly out here to tell you I love you. I’m sick and I’m trying to get better now. So I can be a better mom.”

Isabel peered behind her. She wanted to go back and see what was happening, but she needed to stay with Erin in case her mother kidnapped her.

But what if Tricia shot Luke and Cassie?

Oh dear. Why hadn’t Luke called 911? She hadn’t thought of it, but she had an excuse. She was dead. He was alive but thought he could handle it.

Wasn’t that just like a man?

***

Luke barreled down the stairway and saw Tricia standing in the corner of the second floor landing, the gun aimed toward Cassie halfway down the stairs, next to Joe. Tricia glanced his way for a second. Her eyes gleamed and waves of excitement radiated from her.

He put his head down. Let her shoot him instead of Cassie. Let her—

She kept the gun aimed at Cassie. “One more step and I’m shooting Cassie.”

He halted, breathing hatred at her.

“Go stand by her.” When he didn’t move, she said, “Now!” Her mouth pressed together, an angry line as she looked at him for one brief second. He saw in her unwavering eyes, in the set expression of her face, that she meant it. If he didn’t go down the steps and stand next to Cassie, she would do exactly what she said.

His hands tightened into fists, his arms and neck tensed. It was the hardest thing he’d done, but he walked past her and down the steps until he stood next to Cassie.

She gazed at him sadly. “You shouldn’t have come. You should have escaped.”

“I called 911,” Luke said, looking at Tricia holding the gun on all three of them. There had to be a way to fool her so Cassie could escape. Somehow he’d find a way to outsmart her.

“I don’t believe you.” But Tricia glanced toward the front of the house, then back to them. Her left hand curled over her right, aiming the gun barrel at him. “But in case you really did, I’d better get this over with.”

“They’ll know it’s you,” Cassie said, her voice calm and even. Soothing, Luke thought, the voice she used for ghosts.

“No, they won’t. I’ll kill all of you, then shoot myself in the fatty part of my thigh.” She narrowed her eyes, her head lowered as she pointed the gun at Cassie. “No one will suspect I shot myself.”

Luke tensed, his legs apart, his knees slightly bent, ready to leap forward.

“Why?” Cassie asked.

“You think I don’t know you’re trying to delay me?” Tricia laughed, but her stance relaxed, her head coming up. “I don’t hear sirens. You really didn’t call 911, did you?”

“You’re right, I didn’t call 911.” He would’ve said anything to buy time.

“I may as well tell you.” She looked proud of herself, a half smile on her face.

Luke forced himself to breathe. All this time he’d thought the last-minute confessions on TV were contrivances to let the audience know the killer’s plan, but now that it was happening in front of him, he understood the psychology behind the confessions. Tricia was
eager
to tell them her schemes. She wanted to brag about her brilliance.

“We’re listening,” Cassie said into the dead silence.

“It’s simple.” Tricia’s expression was animated, her eyes bright, leaning forward slightly to make sure they didn’t miss a word. “People think the house is haunted. Kurt will buy the house for a cheap price, and I’ll marry him for it.”

Luke readied himself to jump in front of Cassie. Tricia was insane. And the most insane thing was she still looked like the perfect babysitter, the all-American college girl.

She was right. No one would suspect her.

“It’s not the first time you killed someone,” Cassie said, with just the right touch of interest in her voice. “You poisoned Isabel, didn’t you?”

“She was a bitch. She deserved it.” Tricia’s features hardened. “When I found out Thomas Shay’s nearest relatives would inherit the house, I had to kill her. I was supposed to inherit, not a niece and nephew.”

A blast of frigid air slipped past Luke, touching him, and he steeled himself not to shiver. Joe already stood on the other side of Cassie, so that left Isabel.

“You aren’t related to Thomas Shay,” Cassie said.

“I’m his daughter!” Tricia screamed, her face contorted, finally looking as ugly on the outside as she must have looked on the inside. “It should have been mine!”

“His daughter?” Cassie asked. “Is that what your mother told you?”

Luke frowned. He couldn’t imagine anyone staying to work for her lover’s widow for years, for the father of her child.

“My mother always said my father was a wealthy married man who died when I was three. Just like Thomas Shay.” She narrowed her eyes at Cassie. “Remember, you said I looked like him?”

“If Thomas was your father, why didn’t your mother sue for child support?” Cassie asked.

“Because she felt guilty for having an affair with a married man.”

Laughter cackled. Isabel’s outline filled in and she looked almost human, floating level with him and Cassie, inches away on the other side of the railing. “You aren’t Thomas’s daughter.”

The gun in Tricia’s hand wobbled. “You’re wrong! I am his daughter.”
 

“Thomas couldn’t have children. He was sterile.”

“No!”

“Yes, you stupid bitch. Besides that, Thomas couldn’t stand fat women. Why do you think I hired your mother to be our housekeeper? Did you think I’d be so dumb as to hire a woman prettier than me?”

Tricia’s face contorted. “Lies! You’re lying!” The gun exploded, straight at Isabel.

“Isabel!” Cassie reached out to the floating ghost.

And the gun swiveled toward her. Luke jumped forward, but Joe was ahead of him, halfway up the steps between them and Tricia. The gun blasted, the sound bouncing off the stair walls. Behind Luke, Cassie screamed.

Luke stood tall. Cassie was out of the line of the bullet—but he wasn’t. The bullet would go through Joe’s ghostly body and into his instead of Cassie’s.

Joe fell back, as if from the impact of the bullet, and somersaulted down the steps.

No bullet slammed into Luke.

“Joe!” Cassie cried.
 

Joe rolled to the landing, a red stain blossoming on his white shirt. “Cassie, I hurt,” he said, sounding surprised.

“You’re a ghost.” Tricia took a step back, and another one, her arm dropping to her side. “You can’t feel that.”

Luke jumped forward and Tricia’s gaping mouth snapped shut, her hand with the gun whipping back up. He caught the barrel, but she held onto it with both hands, her grip strong. He lifted his other hand but saw the victorious smile and knew he was too late. She was going to—

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a blur of movement. Cassie. Her arms out. Her face white. Shoving Tricia hard. Into the railing.

Tricia refused to let go of the gun, trying to aim it at Cassie even as she toppled backward, over the railing, pulling Luke with her.
 

“Luke!” Cassie grabbed his sweatshirt, holding him back. The gun barrel slipped out of his hands.

Plunging to the hallway below, Tricia screamed and pulled the trigger, the blast ringing out. A second later Luke heard a sickening thud. He leaned over the railing. Tricia sprawled on the floor, her legs and arms at a twisty angle, her face turned to the side. Blood dripped from her thigh. She’d shot herself in the thigh, just as she’d said she would, only by accident. The gun was on the floor against the wall, just out of reach of her right hand.

Looking down at her, he hoped she was dead, but her eyes blinked and she moaned.
 

At least she was in pain, he thought savagely, his adrenaline running high. From the awkward angles of her legs and arms, she wasn’t going to jump up and shoot anyone for a while. Now Cassie would be safe. And Erin. They’d all be safe from the psycho nut job.

“Are you hit?” Cassie asked, her voice thin with worry.

He turned and without words pulled her to him, holding her tight for a long moment until she wiggled free.

“You’d better call 911,” she said.

“I already did.” He heard the wail of the siren, estimating the whole scene had taken about four minutes. He’d called 911 on his cell before running downstairs from the tower. He might have faced a gun-toting housekeeper on his own, but he had Erin and Cassie to think of.

Cassie twisted out of his arms and rushed down to the landing, not waiting for his explanation. “Joe! Did she hurt you? How could this happen?”

“You tell me.” He lurched to his feet. “You’re the ghost expert.” He looked down at his bloodstained shirt. “It stopped hurting. And my skin seems to be healing.” He glanced around. The sirens stopped. “I’d better leave before I get asked some awkward questions.”

“I’ll see you later?”

“I don’t know. I’m needed elsewhere, Cassie.”

For an instant, Cassie looked stricken, then an understanding smile curved her lips.

“I’ll miss you, Joe.” She bent forward and kissed him, her lips closed.

Feeling their affection for each other, Luke ached, a stuffiness in his chest. Not because of jealousy, but because he wanted some of that affection for himself.

He could still have it, though he’d almost thrown it away. He refused to believe it was too late.

He stepped forward and put his arm around Cassie’s shoulders.

Joe faded slowly. Watching, Luke felt a sense of wonder.

How many people had ever witnessed something like this? What had he been afraid of?

Someone pounded on the door. Coming just in time to clean up.

With reluctance, Luke withdrew his arm from Cassie and crossed to the foyer. When he opened the door, two deputies burst inside. Luke glanced at Joe, but he was gone. So was Isabel. Only Cassie stood there, trembling.

Luke strode over to her and held her tightly. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured.

One of the deputies ran to Tricia’s body. The other looked at him and Cassie, his eyes hard.

“What happened here?” he demanded.

 
“She tried to kill us,” Cassie said, her voice raw. “Did you see a little girl out there?”

Chapter Fifty

“I’m glad she’s alive,” Cassie murmured to herself as an ambulance with a sheriff’s escort took Tricia away. Standing on the front stoop in her jacket with the fleece lining, she shivered, needing this moment away from the others to just breathe. The moon was etched faintly in the twilight sky, too early for the stars to twinkle down at her.

“I’m not glad.” Isabel became visible next to her. “You should be back in there, before that she-shark gets her teeth into your man.”

“My
what
?”
 

“Don’t act stupid. You know what I mean.”

Cassie shivered. “I’m leaving tomorrow. Vanessa can have him, if that’s what he wants. At least Erin will be happy.”

“It’s not what he wants. He wants
you
. He keeps looking at
you
.”

Pleasure warmed Cassie, then she shook her head and hunched her shoulders. “He doesn’t want the whole package. I refuse to be less of myself for him or any man.”

Luke’s voice came from the side of the house. “You’ll never be less of anything to me.”
 

She started and made a squeaking noise, looking to her left. Striding across the grass toward her, Luke laughed.

“You do that the same squeak when we make love.”

“Shh.” She glanced to her right, but Isabel was gone, faint laughter lingering in the air.

“She knows.” He stopped a foot away from her. “Everyone knows. That’s why your friend Joe left. He knew I was going to take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” She put her hands on her hips, realizing she didn’t mind the cold anymore. Now it invigorated her, the synapses in her brain firing, her blood flowing faster, her heart beating harder. “I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need a man for that.”

“I’m glad. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Waking up with you this morning you weren’t glad.”

“This morning I was a damn idiot.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“This morning I didn’t know you would almost die.”

“So that’s it. You feel guilty because Tricia tried to kill me.”

“Now who’s being stupid.” His voice caressed her. “I don’t feel guilty. Why the hell should I feel guilty because a nutcase decides to shoot people? I felt scared, more scared than I ever felt in my life.”