Giving Up the Ghost (27 page)

Gabbie laughed aloud, chiding herself for being silly and naive. It was impossible for
her--or anyone else--to plumb the hearts and minds of her fellow human beings. She hadn't the
vaguest notion of what any of the suspects was capable of doing. Hadn't she read stories in the
newspaper about religious leaders who were pedophiles and mothers who'd murdered their own
children? She frowned. Not to mention her own husband, who had proven to be a thief and a
cheat.

Her best bet was to rely on logic and observation. She had to consider what she knew
about each of the men. Where were they at the time of the murders? Who appeared to be tense or
ill-at-ease when the subject of either murder came up in conversation?

She suddenly remembered Terry had jumped like a rabbit when she teasingly
threatened to tell the others what had happened when he'd discovered Barrett's body. He'd been
relieved when she promised not to tell. She meant not tell that he almost threw up.

But what if he was relieved for another reason? Excitement coursed through her veins.
He could have been glad she wasn't going to say something pertaining to Barrett's death. Not that
she knew anything.

Only she did, she suddenly realized. She'd heard the shots.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to recapture the moment when the first shot
had awakened her. She'd given a start and snuggled under the covers. When the second shot had
followed, she'd opened her eyes and glanced at her clock. It had been 6:21.

"Nineteen minutes before Terry found the body. I bet he killed Barrett!"

She forced herself to calm down and review the facts in an orderly manner. Terry had
claimed to have found Barrett at twenty minutes to seven. He must have killed Barrett, pulled the
body into the woods, continued running down the beach, and then turned around and pretended to
notice the body at twenty to seven as he reported.

It all fit together. No doubt Barrett remembered having seen Terry or his car at the
cottage the day Cam had died. Once Cam's death was officially declared a murder, Barrett realized
Terry was the killer.

Her excitement grew as all the pieces fell into place. Terry had hated Cam. He'd as good
as told her so himself. And he'd beaten his wife, which indicated a streak of violence. Terry was
strong enough to lift Cam and throw him over the bluff, and smart enough to cover his tracks.
And--the final piece--he had no alibi for the afternoon of the murder.

"I must call Darren." She reached for the phone, but realized she'd left the slip of paper
with his cell phone number down in the kitchen. She pulled on her bathrobe, stepped into her
slippers, and started down the stairs.

The sound of knocking sent Gabbie's heart hammering against her ribs. She froze
where she stood, midway down the staircase, and listened.

Nothing. Surely what she'd heard was a branch hitting against the cottage.

The noise started again, a quick rapping at the front door. She forced herself to place
one foot in front of the other until she reached the hall.

"Who's there?" Fear cracked her voice.

"It's Todd, Ms. Meyerson. Open the door, please."

His palpable terror seeped through the wood. She hesitated, her hand on the knob.

Danger lurked outside. She'd be a fool to open the door. Todd was malicious. He'd done
awful things to Charlie and other kids. She had to consider the possibility that he and not Terry had
killed Barrett.

"Please, Ms. Meyerson, I'm freezing and he's coming. Please open the door. I don't want
to die like Barrett." He sobbed, gulping in air.

She shot the bolt and opened the door. The cold nipped at her bare ankles as Todd
stepped into the cottage. He stared at her, mouth gaping, his eyes red from crying.

She recoiled when she saw the gun in the deep fold of his trench coat. He held the hem
away from his body as if it were contaminated. "I found it. That's why he's after me."

"Who's after you?"

Gabbie started to shut the door, but a violent force shoved it open. She stumbled
backwards.

Jack McMahon entered. His massive shoulders and oversized face loomed over her.

Todd shrank behind her.

Her voice shook with terror and disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't play innocent, Gabbie. This is no time for games."

"You killed Barrett? But why?"

"Had to." Jack glared at Todd, an ugly frown giving his dull features a Neanderthal look.
"And this little creep was spying. Well, we know what happens to spies." He lunged.

Todd spun and ran toward the living room.

Jack moved lightning-fast. He grabbed Todd's arm. The gun clattered to the floor.

"Thanks. I'll take that." He picked it up and smashed the butt against the side of Todd's
head.

With a moan, Todd sank to the floor.

Gabbie resisted the urge to kneel beside him. She had to stay on her feet if she hoped to
get them out of this alive. Still reeling from the shock that Jack was the murderer, she whispered,
"You killed Cam and Barrett and threw my paperweight at me."

Slowly Jack moved his arm until he was pointing the gun at Gabbie. "I didn't mean to
hurt you, Gabbie. I don't want to hurt you now. You shouldn't have stuck your nose in what wasn't
your business."

A shiver rippled through her as she inched toward the den. She fought to keep her tone
conversational. "But why did you kill Cam? That afternoon he was going to give you your share of
the money."

He blinked, looking puzzled. "How do you know?"

"Darren told me," she lied. "He found out about the cigarette deal."

Jack pursed his lips. "We were getting peanuts compared to what Cam made on the deal.
Mr. Big Sport was giving me five thousand more because we used my truck."

He went on, aggrieved. "It's not like I meant to kill him. When I found him lying on the
floor, I figured one of the other guys did him in, then panicked and left without taking the
money.

"Then he moaned. I nearly jumped out of my skin 'cause I thought he was dead. So I hit
him with that little statue. It just seemed like the natural thing to do. So did picking him up and
tossing him down to the beach."

The natural thing to do?
Sickened, Gabbie backed up another foot. She
forced herself to sound impressed. "And no one knew. They said it was death by
misadventure."

Jack shot her a malicious smile. "Surprised, aren't you?"

She controlled her tremors as best she could. "What do you mean?"

"You know. Dumb Jack. Can't keep a business afloat. All he's good for is odd jobs and
making deliveries. Well, I showed them. I didn't leave any traces that day, even though I had my
worries about the statue." He laughed. "But no telltale fingerprints. I suppose I have the cleaners to
thank for that."

Another step and she'd be in the den. "Except that Barrett saw you."

"He did not. When word got out that Cam didn't die from any fall, he remembered he'd
seen my truck here that afternoon. Smart ass kid. He thought he could blackmail me."

Jack glanced down at the gun in his hand. "I killed him with his own gun."

"Sonia's gun," Gabbie said. "That's what she used to knock Cam unconscious."

"Sonia?" He shook his head, as if amazed. "Well, I'll be damned."

He finally noticed Gabbie had moved. "And where do you think you're going? I haven't
forgotten all this is your fault. Adele and me would be leading the good life, if you hadn't stirred
things up."

He raised the gun and pointed it at her.

WhenTodd moaned, Jack turned to look at him.

Gabbie dashed into the darkened den. "Cam, come here, I need you! Right now!"

A bullet whizzed past her ear.

She dove to the floor beside the desk as Jack stumbled into the dimly lit room.

"Cam, huh? Cam can't help you. Where's that damn light switch?"

Gabbie bit her lip, afraid to make a sound. She heard a car on the road and thought she
heard it stop.

Jack must have thought so, too, because he went to the window and pulled aside the
curtain. "Can't see a damn thing," he muttered.

It was now or never. "Cam? Cam? Show yourself now!"

Jack grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet as easily as if she were a rag doll.

"Let go of me!"

"Sure I will." Jack tightened his grip and jabbed the gun into her back with his other
hand.

Gabbie gasped as she arched her back in pain.

"Stay still," he ordered, "or I'll shoot you now."

Cam materialized, barely visible in the dim light.

Please God, don't let it be too late.

"Nice going, Jack," Cam said. "You've got a real smooth way with the ladies."

"Who--Who's that?" Jack's voice was thick with fear. The pressure of the gun against her
back eased.

"Don't you recognize my voice?" Cam taunted. "Use the light switch to the right of the
door. You'll see me plain as day."

Jack put on the light. "No, it can't be."

She felt his body tremble, felt the gun barrel knock against her spine. Carefully, she
eased out of his grip. The gun fell to the ground.

He didn't seem to notice. His eyes were bulging as he stared at Cam. "But you're
dead!"

"I sure am, thanks to you. Were you so desperate for the money you had to kill
me?"

Jack covered his face with his hands. "I didn't mean to. I thought you were already
dead."

"So you finished me off and took the dough. Some good pal you turned out to be."

When Jack didn't answer, Gabbie picked up the gun, hoping the shock of seeing the
ghost of the man he'd killed had rendered him powerless.

No such luck. Jack's hands curled into fists, his face contorted with rage. "Think you
were a good pal, Cam? You conned your friends and grabbed the lion's share of every deal."

"I set up the deals," Cam said. "You made more money than you ever would have
because of me."

"Always thinking you were so special. So damn sure your looks would get you any
woman in town."

Cam laughed. "Jealous, Jack? Was that the problem?"

"Me jealous of you? I'm alive and you're dead."

"And about to spend your life behind bars for two murders."

Jack lunged at Cam. A blast of icy air stopped him in his tracks. He huddled into himself,
wrapping his arms around his shivering body.

Gabbie pointed the gun at him. "Jack, sit down on the couch while I call Darren."

Instead of obeying, he lumbered toward her, right arm outstretched. "Give me that. You
don't have it in you to shoot me."

Gabbie stepped back. Her finger tightened around the trigger. "Keep away! I mean
it."

At a noise from the hall, they both turned. Todd had knocked over the small table
pulling himself to his feet. He had one hand on the doorknob.

"Stop!" Jack shouted.

"Run, Todd," Gabbie shouted. "Call the police!"

Jack grabbed her forearm. The gun went off, and glass shattered. Jack let her go and
chased after Todd, who had escaped into the night.

"Shoot him," Cam said.

Gun in hand, Gabbie ran outside, determined to shoot Jack if he attacked Todd. The cold
air numbed her hands and face. She blinked, trying desperately to make out Jack and Todd in the
darkness.

Headlights flashed, car doors flung open. Darren and Lionel took off after Jack.

Gabbie heard grunts and groans and snapping branches as Darren and Lionel fought to
subdue Jack.

"Easy, man," Darren said between breaths. "There's no place to run. Todd, get in the
front seat of the car."

Jack cursed.

Lionel yelped in pain.

"Put your hands behind you, now." She'd never heard Darren sound so stern.

The click of the handcuffs was reassuring, as was the sight of Darren ushering Jack into
the back seat of the police car. Finally, he came to her. Gently, he uncurled her fingers from the gun
and bagged it. A moment later he was holding her in his arms.

"How did you know he was here?" she said.

"I saw his truck in your driveway and knew that meant trouble. I peered through the
window and was about to break in when Todd came running out."

He studied her face in the glare from the police car's headlights. As much as she wanted
to turn away, she let him see her vulnerability and fear, mixed with naked joy because he'd arrived
in time.

"You'll be okay?"

She nodded, knowing he meant okay without him because he couldn't stay. "I thought it
was Terry."

"I thought it was Don." He ran his knuckles along her cheek. "I'll come back tomorrow
and take your statement. Now I have to take Jack down to the station and deliver Todd to his
parents. Go inside before you freeze to death."

Feeling as weak as if she'd risen from a sick bed, Gabbie entered the cottage. Now that
she was safe, the terror of what she'd been through nearly felled her. She wondered if she would
have been capable of shooting Jack. Thank God, Darren had come in time. Her fingers trembled as
she put on the kettle. What she needed was a strong mug of tea laced with brandy.

It took several sips before warmth coursed through her veins and she regained some of
her equilibrium. "It's finally over," she said on her way to the den. "Now everyone can relax."

"Cam?"

"I'm here." His voice was soft.

She scanned the room until she saw him standing at the sliding doors, peering out at the
Sound. "You-- You're transparent! I can hardly see you."

He turned. "That's because I'm leaving this plane."

"For good?"

"Yep. It's over, as far as I'm concerned. Thanks, Gabbie. I'm eternally grateful."

"But-but..." How should she finish her sentence or explain the tears filling her
eyes?

Transparent though he was, there was no missing his huge, audacious grin. "Don't tell
me you've gotten used to my company and hate to see me go."

"Something like that," she admitted.

"You'll be fine without me. You have Darren."