“Not right now. I have the late shift tonight.”
“Can you come over to the B&B? I think it’d be easier to discuss this face-to-face.”
“Be right there.” He hung up without even taking the extra time to say goodbye.
She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. I’ll tell Phillip this latest news, and he’ll know what to do.
Passing a mirror, she grimaced at her reflection. She really did look like a scarecrow. She’d been in such a hurry to get to the school this morning that she hadn’t fully gotten herself together. She hurried to her room to freshen up.
Wanting to finish before he arrived, she tugged a brush through her hair and applied some blush and lipstick. At least it gave her a little color. I’m as pale as a ghost myself these days.
She heard a bang from downstairs and frowned into the bathroom mirror. What the hell was that?
She listened hard, but heard nothing else suspicious. She shrugged, turning back to the mirror. Just as she finished fixing herself up, there was a knock on her bedroom door. Phillip made good time.
She flung it open—to find a nightmare.
The figure in the doorway was both man and ghost…her brain couldn’t process it. It was the first time she had gotten a good, close-up look at the skellyman in full light…that must be why she hadn’t recognized it before, not even in Christa’s sketch.
“Ethan…?” she whispered.
He gave her a wide, skeletal grin. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”
Chapter 59
Her reaction was even better than he’d anticipated. She opened the door, took one good look at him, and tried to slam the door against him.
The skellyman—once known as Ethan Barnett in another life…though it hadn’t been his first name, and probably wouldn’t be his last—straight-armed the door open to crash against the wall. It smashed into her face along the arc, with a satisfying crunch.
She staggered back from the door, blood pouring from her nose, and tried to run past him, but he grabbed her broken arm and jerked her around to face him, driving his fist into her jaw. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and she slumped to the floor.
He lifted the unconscious woman…who was still his wife, he supposed…onto his shoulder. She’s put on weight in the last year…
Luckily, no one else was home when he arrived. He really didn’t want to dilute the pleasure he was going to get from toying with the Bitch by having to deal with any ‘innocent’ bystanders today.
Staggering slightly under Brenda’s weight, he slipped out of the house through the broken front door. He’d decided to move up his timeline a few hours, and begin his playtime early today.
It was hard to move undetected through the late afternoon streets with a body over his shoulder, but luckily it was beginning to grow dark earlier and earlier, and it was still the magic hour between work letting out and people arriving home. Plus, he had chosen well—the apartments were only a few blocks from the B&B.
As he was slipping into the grove of trees behind the B&B, he saw a car rounding the corner. It was pulling up to the house.
Perfect timing, he thought to himself with a grin, as Phillip Sanchez stepped out of the car and rushed up to the gaping front door. Yes, Fate is smiling down on me tonight.
Brenda moaned, and he hurried on his way. Now would not be the time to be caught. It would spoil everything, and he had such lovely plans for the Bitch.
Chapter 60
No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. He had to do something fast. Dammit!
Robbie jumped guiltily even thinking the word, though no one could possibly have heard him—being dead had to have some privileges…
He had to think. What can I do about this?
Daisy! She was the connection. She was the only one who really believed in him. She would help him think of something. Yeah, she’s just a kid—but she’s the best chance I’ve got.
Robbie flew through the streets to his grandparents’ house. It was still exhilarating to be able to fly. Sometimes it almost made things worth it. But he was tired of being in limbo like this. If he couldn’t be a part of things, why couldn’t he just be…nothing?
The familiar outline of George and Mary’s house appeared out of the twilight. Slipping through the bricks of the wall, he swiftly searched the house. Daisy was in the living room watching TV.
“Daisy! Daisy, I need to talk to you!” he whispered urgently.
“I don’t want to talk to you no more.” She kept her attention firmly on the television.
“Why not?” He was startled.
She hadn’t had any problem with him before.
“Mom said you aren’t real. She says you’re imaginatious and I shouldn’t talk to you no more.”
“C’mon, Daisy—I need you.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Mom’s in trouble. The skellyman took her. We have to get help.”
“What kind of help?” Daisy turned to face him at last.
“I-I don’t know. We can’t do it alone. Should we try to talk to Grandpa?”
Daisy wrinkled her nose dismissively.
“Papa’s too old. The police-man might help.”
“Who?”
“Mama’s police-man friend. Teacher’s brother. But his name is different…”
“What’s his name? C’mon, Daisy. You’ve got to remember.”
“Like the beach…Sandcheese?” she puzzled, head cocked to one side.
Robbie grinned, despite the urgency of the situation. How he loved his baby sister.
“You mean, Sanchez?” he guessed.
“Yeah! That’s it. What’re we going to do, Robbie?”
“Find Officer Sanchez—and then you’ll have to help him see me.”
“How do I do that?”
He made a face. “I haven’t a clue. We’ll think of something.”
“How do we find him?”
“I guess we call the police station and ask for him.”
“Okay.” Daisy bounded to her feet eagerly.
He raised a finger to his lips. “But we have to do it quiet, okay?”
She nodded, eyes wide.
“Phone’s in the kitchen still, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
They tiptoed through the house—well, Daisy tiptoed, Robbie floated behind her, trying to conserve his energy for the battle to come. This was going to take everything he had.
They made the kitchen without incident. Robbie wondered briefly where his grandparents were…should he try to communicate with them? If he did, he might not have enough reserve to convince the policeman. No, better not try.
Daisy stood on tiptoe under the phone, but she still couldn’t reach it.
“Get the stool,” he whispered.
She obeyed without question, moving the stepstool her grandfather had made for her to a spot under the phone. She still had trouble reaching the phone, but her fingers managed to push the 9-1-1 buttons by standing on her tiptoes.
“Hello?” she whispered breathlessly when the operator answered. “Is Officer Sandcheese there?”
“Sanchez?” asked the puzzled operator. “Listen, little girl, this line is for emergencies. Do you have an emergency?”
“Uh-huh. A big one. My mama’s in trouble. It’s the skellyman!”
“Listen, sweetie, why don’t you put your Mommy on the phone?”
“I can’t. The skellyman gotted her.”
The operator’s voice went from exasperated to professional instantly.
“I’ll send someone to your location, alright dear?”
Daisy looked up at Robbie in dismay. “No! He’s gotted her—she’s not here.”
“We’ll send someone to you so you can tell them the details.”
“Geez…,” Robbie moaned, “we need the cops to go to his house!”
“No! She’s not here,” Daisy insisted. “The skellyman tooked her away from the house where she was visiting my teacher. He tooked her
to his house. He’s going to hurt her.”
Her face dissolved in tears. “Please tell Officer Sandcheeze. Hurry!”
“Don’t cry, sweetie,” soothed the 9-1-1 operator. “I’ll get Officer Sanchez right over there to talk to you.”
Daisy hung up the phone. She looked up at him, no trace of tears now.
“Did I do good, Robbie?”
He looked at her in astonishment. She even fooled me.
“That was great, Daisy. Let’s go outside and wait for the policeman. I sure hope he really comes.”
They snuck out of the house and sat on the grass by the curb. Daisy was shivering, even in her sweater, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was so nervous he was having trouble even staying visible, much less corporeal.
A car sped around the corner and screeched to a stop in front of them. Phillip Sanchez jumped out of the car and came over to kneel beside Daisy.
“Sweetie, what’s going on? What did you mean when you told the lady on the phone that the skellyman had your mom? How could you know that?”
Daisy said solemnly, “Robbie told me.”
Sanchez dropped his head, obviously trying to hold on to his temper.
“Honey, Robbie’s dead. You know that.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded her head. “But he’s also right there.” She pointed at him.
Robbie tried, but he couldn’t quite bring himself together enough to be fully visible, much less corporeal.
“Daisy, help me!” He reached for her hand.
She took his hand instantly, and a surge of energy ran through him. He concentrated with all his might, and he could feel himself solidifying.
There was a gasp from Sanchez, who tried to pull Daisy away from him.
“No!” Robbie cried desperately, clinging to Daisy as hard as he could. “Please, sir, you gotta listen.”
“Who are you?” Sanchez barked.
“This’s Robbie,” replied Daisy, huddling against her brother. “He comed back.”
“Please, sir! Mom’s in trouble. The skellyman—it’s my dad. And he’s gonna hurt her, I just know he is.”
Sanchez looked dazed. “Your dad?”
“Yes, sir. He faked the accident. I’ve been trying to remember all of it. I-I can’t quite remember the end…but I know he survived. He’s not the man she knew—he never was.”
“Say I believe you. Where is he now? I checked with the hotel earlier for some follow-up questions, and he’s gone.”
“He moved to a new place earlier today. I can take you there. But we gotta hurry. Please!”
The policeman looked torn. He obviously didn’t want to endanger the little girl.
Robbie knew he’d never be able to keep himself together without her.
“I need her help, sir.”
After an agonizing moment of indecision, the policeman nodded. “Get in the car, Daisy,” he ordered.
She started to obey, never letting go of Robbie’s hand. He could feel her energy beginning to flag. He couldn’t draw much more from her. She’s such a little girl.
“The address is 542 Willow Way—number #215. I’ll meet you there.”
He let go of Daisy’s hand.
“Robbie!” she cried, reaching for him.
“Don’t worry, Daisy—I love you.” He blew her a kiss, and let himself dissolve.
As he faded, he heard the policeman change his mind and tell Daisy to go back in the house. It should be okay. They wouldn’t really need her…he hoped.
Traveling non-corporeally was a whole lot faster than driving through the night-drenched streets. He arrived at the apartment complex well before Sanchez could drive there.
He drifted up the stairs to the front door of the apartment. There was the faintest glow of light seeping around a makeshift curtain made from a blanket pinned up over the window. He faded through the glass—glass was colder than brick or stone, but easier to move through—and into the living room of the skellyman’s apartment. He could sense they were here.
Please God, let the cop get here in time!
Chapter 61
Ethan Barnett, sometimes known as the skellyman, looked down at the unconscious woman on his bed in satisfaction. His scarred face stretched in a smile. This is going to be such fun. I’ve been dreaming of this night for over a year.
At some point, he supposed he really had loved her. She was bright, and funny, and not really all that bad in bed, for a novice. She had listened to him talk with adoration shining from her eyes like sunlight.
But it didn’t take long for her to become tedious. He cocked his head, looking objectively at the woman who had been his wife for more than thirteen years.
He thought things had probably begun to sour when she got pregnant with the boy. His son, his heir…the one who was supposed to carry on his legacy in the world…but it was apparent as soon as the kid could walk he was absolutely nothing like his father.
Robbie was a natural athlete—Ethan had been sidelined on the playground from day one. Robbie was a natural charmer—Ethan had been considered strange and creepy by everyone who knew him in his hometown. It wasn’t until he moved to college that he could reinvent himself; he was better about hiding his true nature by then.
Yeah, he’d had great hopes for the boy when he first held the newborn in his arms, but when he realized he would never pass on his true legacy to the kid, Ethan had no more time for Robbie.
Oh, he pretended. But he wrote the boy off eventually, and decided to try again. And Daisy was the result. His little princess, his Angel. Now, there is a girl after my own heart.
She had a fine sense of the macabre. If he could separate her from the bad influences in her life, he could mold her into something magnificently evil. With those beatific looks of hers, no one would ever suspect her of anything vile.
So, he had thought about it for months…and come up with a plan. A way to be rid of the goody-two-shoes Brat who made him feel so goddamn inadequate all the time. And not have to pretend that he still had any feeling whatsoever for Brenda.
It hadn’t been too hard. The Christmas shopping trip was perfect. The streets were slick enough to make the accident plausible, and it was sheer luck the homeless man stepped out into the road at the precise instant he needed him. He hadn’t even tried to swerve.
Robbie was knocked unconscious in the accident. Hell, for all he knew, the kid was dead on impact. As for himself, Ethan smiled. A few cuts—yeah, they changed his looks somewhat, but he’d never been particularly happy with his face.
He had thrown the homeless man into the back seat and buckled himself back in—then came the touchy bit…driving the car head-on into a stand of trees. He’d plowed into a tree with bone-jarring force, but no real damage to himself. The tissue-paper convertible, however…well, that was a different story.
Climbing out of the wreck, he quickly stripped the homeless man and traded clothes with him. The weather was keeping the streets empty, not a single car passed the wreckage even while he was buck naked in the snow. Then he buckled the dead man into the driver’s seat beside his unconscious—or dead—son.
A strong odor of gasoline seeped out from under the wreckage, so he did what any responsible citizen would do…he set the car on fire.
If there had been a decent autopsy, perhaps—no, probably—his deception would have been discovered, but no one pressed for an investigation with such an open-and-shut accident. It wasn’t like TV. Not everybody got a full autopsy.
George Fullerton had identified the bodies he expected to see, and that was that. No one had ever suspected for a moment that Ethan was still alive.
Brenda started to stir, moaning as she began to regain consciousness.
No more walking down memory lane. It’s show-time!
Chapter 62
Robbie fairly vibrated apart with panic. We’re out of time. The skellyman—Dad—is going to murder Mom, and he’s going to do it now!
Where is the policeman? Why isn’t he here?
Geez, it wasn’t that far from his grandparents.
Robbie stuck his head through the bedroom door. His father was moving around the room now…but Mom still hadn’t come to. He was going to have to take care of this one himself.
He flowed down to the ground, looking for a weapon—any kind of weapon.
There was a lot of deadfall under the trees, and he pulled himself together and tried and discarded several lengths of wood, swinging them like Coach had taught him to do to pick a bat. Finally, he found a stout chunk of branch not rotten through like most of the downed limbs.
He carried his prize up the stairs—where he was confronted with a dilemma. He could flow through walls, but his stick couldn’t. Or, he could open the door if he concentrated hard enough, but the noise might alert his dad.
Oh, well, couldn’t be helped. He focused, and reached for the doorknob. It didn’t turn.
God, I’m an idiot!
Of course, Ethan had locked the door. He wasn’t stupid.
Robbie leaned the branch against the wall and let go of solidity. He slipped through the bricks, and then became corporeal again. He was getting better at this every time he tried it. It was almost easy now.
Too bad he wouldn’t need it much longer.
He unlocked the door, senses straining for any indication he’d been overheard by the crazy man in the bedroom. The door eased open without a sound, much to his relief, and he retrieved his tree branch. Stealing across the living room, he waited for his chance.
Chapter 63
Brenda felt the world returning slowly…then wished it hadn’t. She remembered everything—except why she was unconscious on an unfamiliar bed.
The shock of seeing her supposedly dead husband at her door had definitely been a blow, but she didn’t think she’d fainted. So…what happened?
Her nose was throbbing, and her jaw hurt like a sledgehammer had smacked it. The bastard must have hit me—at least once.
She blinked her eyes open, and there he was—the man of her nightmares. His face was scarred, blurring outlines which had once been familiar, but it was so obviously Ethan.
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