Authors: Heather Graham
The Death Dealer (25 page)
Another brick slid into place.
Genevieve knew she had to keep him talking. Keep those last bricks out.
Someone would come. She knew that. Eventually, someone would come. But when? Long after her oxygen was gone…?
“Albee, I hear something, too,” Barbara said suddenly. “And…”
Barbara’s voice trailed off as she stared past him, and Genevieve strained to look in that direction, too.
There
was
someone in the room with them.
Someone, or…
Some
thing.
She could make out a transparent, vaguely formed image of a person, and her heart leapt.
Leslie MacIntyre. And beyond Leslie…
Lori Star.
Leslie was trying hard to knock over the small pile of bricks that remained. Lori was staring at Bennet and tried to strike him, but her fist went right though him. He felt something, though, because he muttered fearfully, “What the hell?”
“It’s Lori,” Genevieve said.
He paused, staring at her. “What?”
“Lori’s ghost is in here with us right now. I’m not lying. She’s with a friend of mine, Leslie MacIntyre. You’ve heard of Leslie, of course. She saved my life before.”
“She’s full of shit, Albee!” Barbara cried.
Genevieve shook her head. “No, I’m telling you the truth. They’re both here.”
“Shut her up! Put that last brick in,” Barbara demanded. “Do it!”
“Barbara, there’s something…I can feel it,” Bennet insisted.
Could he really feel it? Perhaps. Because they were both very real, and they were doing their best to help her.
Barbara still looked unnerved, but she shouted at him, “Put that brick in, you fool!”
Then, miraculously, there was another voice.
A real voice. Hard, loud, firm.
“Put that brick in and I’ll shoot you right in the head!”
Genevieve’s muscles gave, and she sagged against the wall.
Joe!
How had he known to come here?
“The switch!” Barbara yelled.
“No!” Joe shouted out.
But Barbara made a leap for the wall, and the single light in the basement went out just as a bullet exploded in the night, followed by the thuds and grunts of hand-to-hand combat.
Genevieve was powerless to help in any way. She wrenched desperately at her chains and with the help of a surge of adrenaline, freed one hand. She pressed at the bricks, trying to topple the wall of her makeshift prison, but they wouldn’t give.
And then the light went back on.
With her limited field of vision, she could see Joe and Albee rolling across the floor, locked in a deadly struggle for life or death.
Genevieve stretched out as far as she could, found a brick and threw it.
Hard.
Barbara screamed and crashed to her knees.
Gen heard a sickening thud, and Albee screamed. He rose above Joe for a minute, then jumped back down on Joe in what looked like a wrestler’s savage slam, but with one key difference.
Albee Bennet was dead from a bullet to the heart.
“Joe!” Genevieve gasped.
“I’m all right. He’s just…heavy.”
He shoved the body off, and as he staggered to his feet, she could see that he was torn and bleeding. And then, in the distance, she heard the blessed sound of sirens.
Joe tore down the wall Albee had built, then jerked the second chain from the wall, lifted her and held her close.
He didn’t pull away until a dozen policemen hurried down to the basement. Even then, he didn’t go far.
“How did you find me?” she whispered.
He looked into her eyes. Offered her a crooked grin. “‘The Tell-Tale Heart’?” he suggested. “My heart is your heart, so I heard it from a distance?” His smile faded. “Matt told me,” he said. “Matt brought me to you.”
She leaned against him. “Leslie and Lori were here,” she told him, then smiled. Dirty and disheveled, he smiled in return.
As I said, it’s not easy being a ghost.
But it does get better.
The why of it, though, is something I’m just beginning to understand.
One of the reasons we stayed behind, Matt and I—one I see so clearly now—was so we could help uncover the Poe Killer—or Killers, as it turned out. Joe put the last pieces together when he remembered how hard Albee Bennet had clapped when Barbara Hirshorn had given her reading at Thorne Bigelow’s funeral, a hint that that the man evidently had a crush on her. What he hadn’t realized at the time was just how mutual and serious those feelings were, or how far they would go on each other’s behalf.
The couple that kills together stays together?
They’re not together now, though I suppose they may be in the future. I was there when Albee Bennet left this world, and, I assure you, he didn’t go anywhere pleasant, with soft white clouds and harp music floating on a gentle breeze. Something came for him, something swift and oozing that reeked of brimstone and charred flesh.
Barbara Hirshorn, on the other hand, did not die that night. She’s locked up now, and I expect she will be for quite some time.
As for Lori, though she did extremely well during her first outing as a ghost, she chose to leave us. That light is hard to resist. I hope she’s finally gotten star billing. She deserves it.
Sam Latham made a full recovery and went home.
Sorting out some of the other details proved a more complex task. Apparently Barbara took a few days off from the library now and then, days that coincided with the Bigelows’ travel schedule. It was easy enough for her to slip away to be with her secret lover. And for all that she adored and admired him, she would never have admitted to the affair, too afraid of what her fellow board members would say. A librarian was one thing. A librarian involved with a butler? She was certain she would have been ousted.
She encouraged Albee to kill William Morton, helped him with his costume and drove him around. The police believe now that Barbara was the one to lure Bradley Hicks to his death. It was easy enough to arrange a meeting in the cemetery, and from there…
Sarah was lucky she wasn’t seen, or she, too, might have been found in a tomb. Hopefully no one will ever tell her that.
Barbara had extracted the arsenic that killed Thorne from rat poison. As a librarian, she had Internet access and lots of time to read, and the method wasn’t hard to come by.
Larry Levine finally wrote a book. It was on the Poe Killings, and it was published by Brook Avery, in his first venture into book publishing. It was not only well-reviewed, it was a bestseller.
Don Tracy is scheduled to perform as Albee Bennet in an adaptation of the book that’s coming to Broadway. It’s going to be a musical. Go figure. It might be a short run. Then again, who knows?
Nat Halloway, executor of Thorne Bigelow’s will, filed all the papers and did all the work. The New York Poe Society received a huge endowment. Jared, who inherited the bulk of the money, married Mary. She’s still a closet drunk and a bit of a bitch. Which is sort of ironic and actually okay. They deserve each other.
At first Genevieve and Joe talked about running away to Vegas and doing something fun, like an Elvis wedding. But they both adore Eileen and didn’t want to cheat her out of her chance to play mother of the bride, so instead they were married at St. Patrick’s in a huge affair. Matt and I were there, of course, and I know they saw us.
They moved out to Joe’s place in Brooklyn, but they’re contemplating something a little wilder. Joe still has the urge to move out to Vegas.
Matt and I…
We’re still learning. Learning as we go.
It isn’t easy being a ghost, but it has its rewards. Matt and I have everything we need most, in life and in death. We love, and we’re loved in return. And isn’t that what everybody wants?
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1474-7
THE DEATH DEALER
Copyright © 2008 by Heather Graham Pozzessere.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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