Spirited 1 (37 page)

“It’ll be finished very soon. We’ve found the diamonds. And before the night is over, I’ll give them to Seth. You go and rest. Come back soon.”

“I’ll try.”
Aimee-Lynn’s image appeared faintly in the mirror again. Her smile was wan and showed her exhaustion.
“Don’t forget to tell him about the Knight.”

“I won’t forget.”

Aimee-Lynn faded away. This time there was no fanfare. No change in temperature or room lighting. No glass breaking or nightmare vision. Just the sense of someone having been here who was too weak to go on.

Jules swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. She didn’t want Aimee-Lynn to suffer.

Except for those evil souls dragged into hell, Jules had no idea that people could suffer in death.

And here, she’d been trying to avoid this ghost, attempting to ignore her. She had no idea what it took for Aimee-Lynn to appear each time and make her presence known. Or that to finish what she’d started as a living being could cause her suffering in the waiting realm.

Toweling off, Jules dressed quickly and spoke to the empty room, hoping Aimee-Lynn could still hear her. “I’m going to help you return the diamonds. Then you’ll be free to move on with your baby, Aimee-Lynn. No more suffering.”

CHAPTER 18

T
IME WAS WINDING
down. Soon that oaf, English, would figure out who the killer really was. He couldn’t wait much longer.

In the shadow of an oak tree, he watched the light flick to life in the second-floor window. Curtains rippled as she paced through the living room of English’s apartment.

She appeared restless, anxious. She had no idea what anxious was.

He’d been waiting months to find his diamonds, and when he finally spotted the purse in her hands on Saturday, he’d almost whooped with joy. Until he realized he couldn’t get near her without drawing attention to himself.

There was no one watching her now.

 • • • 

J
ULES WAS READY
to crawl out of her skin. Seth had been gone for hours. Aimee-Lynn hadn’t returned. A purse full of stolen diamonds was in her possession, and she was still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

So, the last part wasn’t as dire as the rest, but she’d kill to have on clean panties. It was stupid. It was pointless. It was the only thing she
could
control. Picking up the purse—no way was she letting it out of her sight until Seth returned—and her apartment keys, she hurried to the front door and pressed her ear against it.

She checked the peephole. The hallway seemed to be deserted. Sending up a silent prayer, Jules unlocked the door and bolted across the hall.

Like a professional thief, she’d unlocked, opened, and closed her front door in record time. She raced down the hall to her room, yanked out the first pair of clean panties, jeans, bra, and sweater she touched, then ran back toward the safety of Seth’s place.

It wasn’t until she was locking her apartment that she’d realized how frightened she’d been. And still was. Either someone was in there, or between Seth and Aimee-Lynn, Jules had worked herself up into a good irrational state.

She spun around and slammed into the hard chest of Devon Jones.

Jules tried to navigate around him, but he was a human wall. He backed up with every attempt she made until she’d managed to cross the hallway to Seth’s apartment. Clutching the purse between the clothes and her chest, she stuck out her chin and tried to appear nonchalant.

“Excuse me,” she said. Twisting the knob, she opened Seth’s apartment and called out, “I’m back, Seth! Dev’s here.” She turned sideways and skirted past Dev’s great hulking form. Once inside, she pretended she was straining to hear something from the bedroom, then said, “Dev, he said he’ll call you, later.”

Dev didn’t respond. He didn’t even twitch.

“Have a good night!” She swallowed, pasted a please-heaven-let-this-look-real smile on her face, and attempted to close the door.

“Come on, Shelley. Don’t be like that,” he said, sticking the toe of his expensive leather shoe in the doorway.

Uncertainty flashed through her and she let the door slip from her fingers. He caught it, pushed it wide, and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

Jules backed up, her chest aching from the severe lack of oxygen caused by the terror and disbelief pinging off every nerve in her body. “Wha-what did you call me?”

“Jules, I’m on your side. Don’t worry,” he said, his hands raised, palms out, submissive. He didn’t advance, but held his position near the door. “I don’t know what’s going on tonight, but Seth made it clear he didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone for even twenty minutes. There’s no way he’d have done it for two hours. Not without a damned good reason, so I’m not leaving ’til he gets here.”

She swung her head slowly from side to side. “No . . . you—you called me Shelley.”

His jaw went slack momentarily, then he recovered and rubbed his hands down his thighs. “Oh, sorry. I guess it’s because you look so much like your sister, you two could be twins.”

 • • • 

W
HERE THE HELL
had Gareth disappeared to? He was supposed to meet Seth on the third floor but never showed up. To make matters worse, the charge nurse was still in the ER. The nurse they had spotted from the third-floor window not only wasn’t her, but she had been opening the curtains for a patient who’d just come out of a coma.

He’d wasted the last two hours searching for Hart and a nurse who was no longer on duty. He had no intention of searching for Gareth too. Riding the elevator to the first floor, he tried to tamp down his irritation.

Seth glared at his dying phone. The battery wouldn’t last much longer. He’d forgotten to charge it last night. A mistake he never made. Then again, he’d been distracted by Jules.

The doors opened with a
shush
. Nurse Hello Kitty stood a few feet away speaking with a short, bald man who wore an expensive brown suit. She glanced his way and pointed at him, a frown on her face. The man turned and Seth knew him instantly: Alexander Hart. Mason’s father.

Seth exited the elevator, unsurprised when the little man stormed over to him.

“Leave my son alone!” he said in a thick British accent. He gestured to Nurse Hello Kitty. “Elizabeth tells me you’ve been harassing her all afternoon searching for my boy. Well, he’s not here. He has not been here and he is of no concern to you!”

“Yes, he is. I’m conducting an investigation.” Seth folded his arms over his chest and glared. “I’ll interview anyone I think necessary.”

“Not my son, you won’t!” Alexander said between his teeth. “The Hart name will not be dragged through the mud. You and your department should look elsewhere. I’ll not allow medieval soldiers disguised as police to vilify my child again. My attorney is already preparing a lawsuit.”

Without giving Seth time to respond, Alexander stormed away, Nurse Hello Kitty close behind him. Everyone in the waiting room stared at Seth.

Ignoring them, he strode out of the building toward his car. Why had Alexander Hart returned? Was it simply to yell at him?

Something about the man’s words bothered him. Not the implication of the lawsuit but the reference to medieval soldiers disguised as cops. Over and over, the words looped through his mind as he crossed the parking lot and climbed into his car.

The answer was there, on the edges of his brain, but he couldn’t grasp it. It hung elusive. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he retrieved his cell from his belt clip and hoped it lasted long enough to check his messages.

“Detective, I told you to tread carefully around Hart!” Captain Peterson’s gravelly voice boomed in Seth’s ear. “What the hell are you doing harassing the Hart family again? I’m giving you a chance and you’re fucking it up! Leave Mason Hart alone.”

Confused, he called his captain’s cell.

“Peterson.”

“Captain, it’s English.” Seth took a breath. “I wasn’t harassing the Hart family. I was following up on your request that I check him out at the hospital.”

“English, are you high?” Peterson sneezed. “I didn’t call you to the hospital. I’m home in bed with this damned cold. The wife’s convinced I’m going to come down with pneumonia.”

Shit!
A lead ball formed in Seth’s belly. “You’ve been home, all night? You didn’t come into the station for a meeting?”

“Of course not!” The captain coughed until he wheezed, then took a gasping breath. “What the hell are you rambling about? The only person at the station I’ve spoken with today is Jones. And you can tell him from me, if you fuck up, he’s fucked too!”

That ball in Seth’s belly sank to his knees. Then like a flash of lightning, Alexander Hart’s words hit him.
Medieval soldiers disguised as cops.
Medieval soldiers were called knights. The fourth person in the ring had to be a cop.

Only one cop had spoken to Seth, the captain, and Gareth: Jones.

Could Jones be in the gang?

It didn’t seem possible, but . . .

“Did you hear me, English?” The captain had a longer coughing fit.

“Yes, sir.” Seth didn’t wait for Peterson to stop coughing. “I’ll do that, sir.”

Disconnecting the call, Seth tried to reach Jones again. Again, it went straight to voice mail.

Shoving his keys into the ignition, Seth started the car. His mind raced as he peeled out of the parking lot.

Jones had tried to convince him to come to the station first. Then someone claiming to be the captain called him while he was driving to the station and sent him to the hospital to question Hart.

Jones had impersonated the captain before. Could he have done it again? If so, why have Gareth meet him at the hospital? If it wasn’t Jones, where was he and why wasn’t he answering his phone? And who and why would someone send Seth on a wild Hart chase?

Jules. It had to be Jules. Someone—maybe Jones—wanted Seth away from her. There had already been two attempts on her life. What if someone was watching her? Waiting for the right time to strike?

The lead ball formerly in his knees shot like a bullet up into his belly. Invisible bands squeezed tightly in the space he suspected was his heart. He gunned the engine. Fisting his one sweaty hand on the steering wheel, he used the other to dial home.

The phone just rang until it switched to voice mail again. Why didn’t Jules answer? She wouldn’t have left, would she? Of course not, she’d promised him she’d stay put. Unless someone made her leave.

The thought made his stomach pitch.

Crap, he couldn’t think like that. She was probably fine. Just sleeping, or in the shower, or watching television too loud, or maybe she just didn’t think he’d call her. That had to be it.

Seth hadn’t specifically told her to answer the phone, but he did warn her not to trust anyone other than him. Still, he’d feel better when he saw for himself she was safe.

Dropping the phone to his lap, he gripped the steering wheel in both hands and took the exit south on 64 faster than he probably should have. Seth prayed he’d make it home in less than twenty minutes. His mind spun nearly as fast as his tires on the road.

He loosened one hand from the wheel long enough to dial his phone again. This time, he called the station. The line rang once before someone picked up.

“Police station forty-six, this is Officer Harmon. What can I do for you?”

Wasting no time, Seth asked, “Harmon, did you give a note to Jones from the captain?”

“Yes?” The patrolman’s voice loaded that single word with confusion.

“Did the captain give it to you?”

“No,” Harmon replied. “I haven’t seen Captain Peterson all day. I heard he was out sick, but I saw the note on the floor. I gave it to Jones.”

“Is he still there? I need to talk to him.”

“No, he left a while ago. He said he was on his way to your place.”

“Jones is on his way to
my
place?” Two cars ahead, someone slammed on the brakes. Seth hit the brakes to avoid rearending the car in front of him, then swerved around both vehicles. “I need backup there, now. At least, I think I do. Damn, I’m not sure. Look, do me a favor and head over there but be ready to call in reinforcements if needed. I’m en route but ten minutes out.”

“What’s going on?” Harmon asked, then added quickly, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Too much to explain.”

His non-answer seemed to satisfy the young officer because he said, “Give me your address and I’ll go there now, sir.”

Seth rattled off his address and disconnected the call.

His heart beat in a ragged, staccato rhythm. Jules was in danger. The god-awful awareness of it seeped into his bones. Flattening the gas pedal to the floor, he vowed that if anyone broke even one of her fingernails, he’d kill him.

 • • • 

J
ULES WATCHED
J
ONES
circumnavigate the inside of Seth’s apartment. She thought about running, but his comparison of her to Shelley kept her from moving. She had to know what he knew. Silently, she sunk down onto the faded denim couch and carefully hid the purse behind her back.

Finally, he returned and made himself comfortable on Seth’s couch. She slid away, burrowing against the side of the couch, but his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. “You’re safe, I just want to talk.”