Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (51 page)

Immediately, Clay understood exactly what my fears
were. “No, Ruby, no—nothing like
that
, I swear. Scout’s
Honor,” he said with a look of total honesty on his face. “He
was a complete nutjob but he was also a complete gentleman.
You were never even close to naked—he never saw a thing.
And neither did I, dammit!”

Well,
that
was a relief—for now anyway. I relaxed a
little bit and gave Clay a weak smile in return for at least
trying
to make me laugh at a time like this.

“Okay, so what happened while he was undressing
me?” I asked impatiently. “I want you to know
right
now that
I
hate
suspense. Seriously, I absolutely hate it.”

He nodded his head and went on. “I remembered that
Rachel said I was cold that day I touched her in the cemetery.
So I just kept touching you in the hopes that the chill would
wake you up but it didn’t work.”

So that explained why I was freezing when I finally did
wake up.
There was so little that he could do to help me but
his
efforts
were greatly appreciated.
And at least I had
information about what happened while I was unconscious.
“Thanks for trying. Did Crimson make it out alive?
And why
on earth did the police release that big toothless oaf Jackson
from jail?”

Clay shook his head fervently. “I didn’t see anyone
else, Ruby. When I found you, you were all alone. And as for
your second question, I don’t think that the man holding you
captive is the dude you think he is. I couldn’t see most of his
face but he definitely had all of his teeth.”

The importance of everything Clay had told me so far
paled in comparison to the impact his last few statements
made. If Jackson wasn’t the killer, who
was
? “Quick, Clay—
describe him to me. What did he look like? Why couldn’t you
see his face?”

“Well, he was thin and kinda tall but not too tall. He
was sort of old but not real old. His hair was—“

I cut him off and finished his sentence for him. “Let
me guess, his hair was short but not too short?” I said
sarcastically.
If
a police sketch artist were drawing
my
attacker based on Clay’s description so far, he would be sitting
here staring at him with a blank expression and not a single
line drawn on the paper.

Clay didn’t pick up on my sarcasm and responded
enthusiastically, “So you know who I’m talking about then!”

Mentally, I realized that Clay was basically the male,
ghost version of Rachel. If it weren’t for Boone, the two of
them would have made the perfect freakin’ couple! Why
couldn’t I have found a ghost who paid more attention to
detail? But he was all I had and he was doing his best to help
me out so I decided not to hurt his feelings by telling him that
his description of the killer was completely useless to me. At
this point, my attacker could be anyone from Andy, to Mr.
Raspatello, to my own dad.

“No,” I replied, “I still have no clue who he is. Why
couldn’t you see his face? Was he wearing a ski mask?”

“Yeah, he was wearing a mask all right but a fancy one.
The kind you see in movies and stuff. As a matter of fact, the
entire wall behind you is covered in them—and tons of movie
posters, too.”

“Mr. Fantastic!” I shouted. “Those posters are from

 

The Phantom of the Opera
, aren’t they?”

 

“Yep, every single one of them. So you know who he is
then?”

“Jonas,” I shouted excitedly, “his name is Jonas!” The
proverbial light bulb in my head went from a dim flicker to a
Broadway
spotlight.
While Drake heard the
words Mr.
Fantastic, what Allison truly said to him was Mr.
Phan
tastic.
As in
The Phantom of the Opera
—which Jonas was clearly
obsessed with. Suddenly, the plot of “A Phantom Affair” took
on a more ominous meaning.
He fancied himself as The
Phantom—kidnapping girls and trying to force them to love
him. Kidnapping
me
and trying to force
me
to love him. My
stomach churned at the thought.

There wasn’t enough time or reason to try to explain
the entire situation to Clay. I was in a seriously bad situation.
If Crimson didn’t make it out alive, neither would I—it was as
simple as that.
The police thought they already had their
suspect in custody. I’d already lied and told the police that I
was thinking of running away and my current situation at
home would solidify that notion. In the last few weeks, I’d
distanced myself from everyone but Rachel. She was the only
one who might believe that I didn’t leave of my own free will
but even
she
thought that Jackson was the killer. My life was
truly in Crimson’s hands right now. I did everything in my
power to save her—now I prayed that what I did for her
would be enough to save myself.

“How long ago did Jonas leave me? Did he say
anything about when he was coming back?”

“I’m not sure, Ruby. I lost all concept of time after I
died. I mean, I know that time still passes but I’m sort of
outside of it or something. For some reason, I—“

When I heard the sound of approaching footsteps, I
held one finger to my lips and whispered, “Shhh!” We held
our breaths as the noise grew closer then stopped altogether.
Soon, the jingle of keys followed and the sound of a lock
clicking into place. Frantically, I scrambled to come up with a
plan to keep myself alive long enough for someone to rescue
me. If he wanted perfect obedience, that was exactly what I
was going to give him.

Clay struck a manly pose like he was ready for a fight.
Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who sometimes forgot that he
was dead. There wasn’t a single thing he could do to protect
me but bless his heart for the attempt. As I heard the door
open, I willed my body to relax. If I looked like I wasn’t
resisting, maybe I could convince Jonas to untie me.

“Oh, you’re awake! How grand! I was afraid that
nasty ex of mine had injured you severely. Don’t worry—she
will never harm you again. You must be in tip top shape for
our wedding. Is there anything I can get for you, my lovely?”

I felt like I was having a conversation with the Mad
Hatter himself. I’d seen some strange things in my life but this
vision before me definitely ranked in the top five. Jonas was
wearing a flowing black cape and the mask of the Phantom,
his
every
word
and
gesture delivered with flamboyant
Broadway
aplomb.
I was
going
to have to pull out a
performance just as spectacular as his to convince him that I
truly was “his lovely”.

“My darling,” I uttered, shaking as I tried to piece
together the perfect response for him. “All I really need is
some good conversation with you. And a cup of tea, if it’s not
too much trouble.
I could make us both some, if you would
like.” Tea? I
hated
tea!
For some odd reason, though, I
pictured Jonas’s perfect wife as being a tea drinker. It was a
more sophisticated drink than coffee, more refined.
But it
was really going to suck if he actually brought me a cup and I
had
to drink it.

“Tea! What a splendid idea! I will brew some for us
straight away. Chamomile or Earl Grey?”

I have no freakin’ idea! All tea tasted the same to
me—like boiled chalk. Was it a trick question?
If I gave him
the wrong answer, was he going to lop one of my ears off?
Tea wasn’t the only thing brewing—panic certainly was too.
Lately, instead of black, gray was my new go-to neutral of
choice when it came to clothes and shoes. It hadn’t failed me
so far, so I chose it yet again.

“Earl Grey, please,” I said daintily and then added,
“unless you prefer Chamomile, my dear. Would you like me to
make it for us?” I didn’t think it would be that easy to
convince him to untie my restraints, but it was worth a shot.

Jonas smiled and stroked the back of my hand. “Earl
Grey is my favorite—what an excellent choice! I knew that
we had many things in common but this is truly delightful!
What a happy occasion!
Thank you for the offer, but I will
retrieve it myself. While the tea is brewing, I will prepare a
tray of Turkish Delight for us to share.” He swished his cape
around him like a Dracula wannabe in a cheesy vampire
movie and left the room without locking it. It would take time
but if I could gain his trust, at some point he would let me out
of this chair—I had to believe that.

“Geez, Ruby! You almost had
me
convinced that you
wanted to be here with that nutjob!” Clay exclaimed once
Jonas was gone.

“Thanks—he seemed to be buying my act.
Playing
along with his nutty fantasies is the only thing I can do until
someone finds me.
If
they find me….”

“No, don’t think like that, Ruby. Someone
will
find you
before it’s too late. You said that other girl escaped—the
police will probably be here any second now.”

He tried to smile and seem confident but I knew he
was thinking the same thing I was. When Jonas said that his
nasty
ex
was
the
one who hurt me, he was
speaking
of
Crimson and not Allison. His assurance that she would never
harm me again surely meant that he killed her. Now, no one
knew where I was except for Clay and the only thing he could
do for me was provide emotional support as I tried my best to
survive. Unless….

“Clay, I want to try a little experiment. There may be a
way for you to help me after all. Are you in?” I asked even
though I already knew his answer.

“Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you need me to do?”

It was an off the wall plan but there was no harm in
trying. “I know you tried to go other places before you met
me and it never worked. But now that we have some kind of
weird connection, I want to see something. When I asked for
you to come, you appeared. When
you
think about
me
, you
appear. Let’s both concentrate on Rachel and see if we can
send you to her. If it works, do anything you can to get her
attention—or at least try to. Okay?”

“I’ll never pass up an opportunity to spend time with
Rachel Mason,” Clay joked as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut
and began to concentrate.

“Wait a second,” I said to him, suddenly filled with the
thoughts that if my plan worked, I would truly be alone with
Jonas once he returned. “Before you go, come closer. There’s
something I need to do first.”

Clay leaned in towards me with a puzzled expression.
When he got into the right position, I told him to stop where
he was and stay still. “If this works but something bad
happens before you get back to me, I want you to know that
I’m grateful for everything you’ve done to help. And if my
spirit is doomed to roam this earth unsettled the way yours is,
I’ll do everything I can to find you. Thanks—you’re a good
friend.” And with that, I kissed him on his ice cold cheek and
told him to think of nothing but Rachel Mason.

Two things happened at exactly the same time. The
door swung open to announce Jonas’s return just as Clay
vanished from my sight. He would do everything he could to
help—all I had to do was stay alive long enough for it to
matter.

“Kira!” Jonas called as he approached my chair, “Your
tea is ready dear! I added only a touch of sugar since you are
so sweet already.”

Just when I thought the man couldn’t possibly get any
more delusional, here he was calling me Kira. My plan with
Clay had to work. I pasted a superficial smile on my face as he
thrust a small silver tray loaded with powdered sugar covered
confections my way.

“They look delicious,” I swooned meanwhile hoping
they would help me swallow down the taste of that awful tea
he was sure to offer me next. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for my precious bride,” he said as he
selected a piece of Turkish Delight from the tray. “Open
wide!”

With a not so slight fear of having my tongue ripped
out while I
was
least expecting
it, I parted my
lips
and
accepted it. I wasn’t sure if he was just an inept baker or if I
wouldn’t have cared for it regardless of who made it. It was
bland and
dry
but I complimented him
on his
choice
of
dessert. When he asked if I was ready for some tea, I didn’t
have to practice my next line in my head. While I wasn’t a fan
of tea either, I would have willingly swallowed poison to erase
the taste of the Turkish Delight from my mouth.

“Be careful not to burn yourself, my love,” he said as
he tipped the delicate porcelain to my lips. “The tea is still
quite warm, I am afraid.”

And bitter, terribly freakin’ bitter. Was that why he
wanted a wife so badly—because he was the world’s worst
cook?
I swallowed a few sips then instinctively backed away
from the cup when he tried to offer me more.
Without a
word, Jonas placed the cup on the floor beside me. He turned
away from me briefly then swung back around quickly.

CRACK!!
The
sound of
his
palm
as
it struck me
violently on the cheek echoed through the small room.
I
wasn’t expecting it—the pain, his sudden change in mood, or
the way it was going to affect me. My courage drained out of
me as quickly as the blood rushed to my face. I began to cry.

“Oh, you are quite the little debutante, aren’t you Kira?
Isn’t my tea good enough for you? Do they serve better tea
back at the mansion?” he asked mockingly.