“Jade is a balancing stone,” Daphne explained. “It’s for protection. My guess is whoever buried the body put the jade there to protect him—or her—self.”
“From what?” Daniel asked.
“Ghosts,” Daphne said, in a “stating-the-obvious” tone.
“You mean,” Mia said slowly. “From the spirit of whoever’s corpse that is.”
“That would make the most sense to me,” Daphne said. “Or,” she looked thoughtful, “I suppose it could have been intended for the corpse, as well. To bring healing to him or her. “
“Well, if that’s the case, it didn’t work,” Mia said.
Daphne looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if he was healed, his spirit wouldn’t be keeping me up every night,” Mia said. “Clearly, that’s what I’ve been hearing. His footsteps.”
I could feel cold shivers crawl down my spine. Another ghost. Was that what Mia had been hearing all along? Daphne and Daniel exchanged a look, but Mia wasn’t paying any attention. She was staring deep into her wine glass.
“We don’t know that you’re hearing a ghost,” I said, trying to convince myself more than Mia. The idea of a slew of ghosts hanging out in my house was … disquieting, to say the least. “It’s more likely just the house creaking.”
Mia let out a laugh devoid of humor. “Says the woman who dreams about her dead aunt.”
I flushed. “Well, that’s true. And it’s not like this is the first time we’ve considered the possibility of this house being haunted. It’s just that I’ve only ever heard stories about Mad Martha. Never anything about an unnamed male ghost.”
Mia turned to stare at me, her eyes dark and unreadable. “Just because he hasn’t made himself known to you doesn’t mean he’s not here.”
Silence.
The baked ziti and garlic bread formed a cold, greasy lump in my stomach. I was starting to wish I hadn’t eaten so much.
Daniel cleared his throat. “The body is gone. So, if you’re right, Mia, then the ghost shouldn’t bother you anymore.”
Mia went back to brooding into her wine glass. “Maybe,” she said. “But Mad Martha is still hanging around, too, and her body isn’t here.”
“Once the police investigate, we’ll likely know more,” Daphne said. “And once we actually know who he is, maybe we can find a way to put his spirit to rest.”
Mia paused, pondering. “I like that idea,” she said.
“You know, you don’t have to stay here right now,” I said to Mia. “I’m really okay if you want to find somewhere else to sleep for a few days. Just until we get to the bottom of whoever was down there.”
Mia shook her head. “No, Daniel is right. Things should be better now. The body has been found and removed. He should be more at peace than he was before. Once we know who he was, we can take additional steps.”
“Okay,” I said, sounding more certain than I felt. I sure hoped Mia was right, and whoever it was down there was now at peace.
Chapter 29
“So, you found it.”
Aunt Charlie sat hunched over across from me at the kitchen table. She looked ancient—her gray skin a mass of wrinkles and folds, her hair hanging in her face, limp and colorless, covering one eye. The other, exhausted, met mine.
“Is it Jonathan?” I asked. “Your lover?”
Aunt Charlie lowered her eye to the table where one gnarled hand lay. “Yes,” she said softly.
I was having trouble breathing, my chest heavy and thick.
“Did you put him there?” I asked, my voice getting louder. “Did you bury him in the basement?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ...” I paused. Did I really want to know the answer? “Did you,” my voice was softer, “did you kill him?”
Her hazel eye, flecked with green and gold, so similar to mine, rolled back up to meet my gaze. “Yes.”
I couldn’t breathe. I opened my mouth, gasping as I tried to suck in air as I would water from a straw. “How ... “ my voice was barely audible. I licked my dry, cracked lips and tried again. “How could you?”
Aunt Charlie sighed—a heavy, sad sigh. “He was the love of my life,” she said. “I didn’t care that he was married. I only wanted to be with him. And I know he felt the same about me. He was going to leave his wife.”
I felt a cold, hard lump form in my stomach. “He had children,” I said. “You were okay with him leaving his family, his kids, for you?”
She rubbed her face with one claw-like hand. “I’m not proud of it. There’s a lot of things I did I wish I could take back.” She dropped her hand, revealing an ancient face. “Getting involved with Jonathan definitely is at the top of that list.”
“So why did you?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I was so young. So foolish. I let my emotions get the best of me. Our chemistry was off the charts. The moment our eyes met, it was like ... well, we couldn’t wait to tear each other’s clothes off.”
“Oh God. Aunt Charlie! TMI!”
A ghost of a smile touched her dry, cracked lips. “You’re probably right. But, yes, I was swept away in the moment with little regard for the consequences of our actions.” She sighed again.
I wanted to ask her why she killed him, but I couldn’t form the words. Instead, I asked, “What happened?”
She stared at something next to me, her eyes lost and faraway. “He changed.”
I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t move, seemingly trapped in a past she couldn’t escape. “Changed, how?”
Aunt Charlie didn’t respond. I was about to repeat my question when she suddenly shivered. “It’s my fault, really. I was ... messing with stuff I shouldn’t have been. I got Jonathan involved, and ... something happened to him. I still don’t know what. Possession, maybe. I’m not sure. But something unlocked the darkness in him. He became ... evil.”
A cold trickle of fear dripped down my spine. “Evil?”
Her eyes sharpened, and she looked straight at me. “He started killing things. Animals, at first. But that wasn’t enough. So he started on people.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Well, one person,” she amended. “One for sure.”
“Who?”
She paused, a grey tongue darting out of her mouth to lick her cracked lips. “Jesse.”
I couldn’t believe it. “He killed his best friend?”
She slowly nodded.
“But ... why?”
“I have evidence,” she said. “It proves it. It’s hidden. You have to find it.”
“Christ,” I said disgustedly. “Why do you keep sending me on wild goose chases? Can’t you just tell me where it is?”
She shook her head. “Just find the evidence.”
“And what, pray tell, is this evidence?”
“Just find it,” she repeated.
“Aunt Charlie, you do realize I’m being investigated for Gwyn’s murder,” I said. “And maybe Ellen’s, too. Finding Jonathan in the basement isn’t helping matters. And now you want me to go on some blind chase for evidence?”
“I didn’t want to kill him,” she said, gazing off in the distance, her eyes unfocused. “But I had to. He killed Jesse. He was going to kill again.”
“You could have called the police.”
“The police,” she said, her voice dripping with disgust. “The police couldn’t help. What if he got off on some technicality? And even if he was convicted, he still could’ve gotten out at some point. No, I had no choice. I opened up that pandora’s box, and I was the one who needed to close it.”
“Yeah, but you should have at least tried,” I said. “I mean, killing him? That’s pretty extreme.”
Her eyes darkened. “You didn’t see what he was turning into. You didn’t see the monster livin
g inside him—the monster that had taken possession of him. It was the only way to be sure.”
I shivered. “Why the basement?”
“I needed to make sure his body was never found,” she said. “Burying him in concrete seemed like the best way.”
“Well, if you didn’t want him found, why did you tell me to dig him up?”
“Things changed,” she said. “Things have been set in motion. The truth needs to come out. It’s the only way to save you.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “How can a thirty-year-old murder have anything to do with my being set up for two murders now? How can anything that you did then save me now?”
“When you find the evidence, it will all make sense,” Aunt Charlie said. “It will all be clear. You just have to find it.” Aunt Charlie leaned across the table, her eyes suddenly clear and sharp. “And you must find it fast. You’re in terrible danger, Becca. The only thing that can protect you is finding the evidence. That needs to be your only focus. Promise me.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe through the tight, cold, band of fear slowly constricting my chest. “I’m going to jail, aren’t I?”
Aunt Charlie’s eyes sharpened even more. “Jail is the least of your problems,” she hissed. “If you don’t find that evidence, you may find yourself joining me over here.”
I tried to breathe in deeply, but couldn’t. The air turned into icy daggers, cutting into the soft, unprotected folds of my lungs. “My life is in danger?”
“Think, Becca,” Aunt Charlie rasped. She leaned in even closer, her eyes boring into mine. Her pupils seemed to shift, to transform from circular to vertical slits, reminding me of a snake, coiled and about to strike. “You have a stalker. A stalker who has murdered not one but two women. How ‘safe’ do you think you are?”
Oh God. I couldn’t breathe; I couldn’t think. Aunt Charlie’s inhuman, predator eyes grew larger and larger until I felt like I was drowning in them. I was gasping, trying desperately to breathe, but nothing was getting into my lungs. I felt like I was suffocating in a sea of fear, tossed about in those strange eyes ...
I awoke in bed, thrashing desperately about, still struggling to breathe. The sheet and bedspread had somehow wound themselves around my chest. I tore wildly at them, trying to free myself, and ended up tumbling out of bed and onto the floor.
Fortunately, the fall somehow loosened my bonds, and I was finally able to breathe. I’m not sure how long I lay there, sucking in long, sweet lungfuls of oxygen. The room was hot and humid, and my skin glistened with sweat.
Finally, I calmed down enough to think. And I had a lot to think about.
Was it possible that my dream was right? That Aunt Charlie killed Jonathan because he killed Jesse? And what about this so-called “evidence”?
You’re in terrible danger, Becca.
I shivered, despite the heat of the room. Was Aunt Charlie right?
Was I in danger?
I sat up, pulling the sweaty sheets off my body. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, but the night had transformed into the soft, pearly grey that meant it was just about to rise. The birds were chirping and singing.
Oscar hopped off the bed, purring and rubbing against me. Breakfast time. I was so sweaty that some of his fur stuck to my skin. I stroked his ears, his soft neck before pulling myself to my feet.
Coffee first. Actually, clean myself up first, then coffee, then try and figure out where on earth to search for evidence.
God, couldn’t Aunt Charlie make anything easy for me?
Chapter 30
If I were evidence, where would I hide?
I sat at the kitchen table, head buried in my hands, a cup from my second pot of coffee in front of me. Mia had just left for work. At least, I assumed she had gone to work. She had breezed into the kitchen, muttering something about being late, gulped down coffee and toast, and breezed out. When I asked her how she had slept, she said “fine,” but her eyes never met mine.
I needed to get to the bottom of all of this. For all our sakes.
I couldn’t even fathom where to begin my search for the elusive evidence Aunt Charlie directed me to find. I had already been everywhere in the house. Unless, oh God, could it be in one of the many boxes in the basement? One of the many boxes I didn’t get through, now covered in concrete dust? I looked at the yellow crime scene tape and shuddered. If that was the case, whatever it was, was probably ruined.
I wished Aunt Charlie had given me some clues, at least, as to what I was looking for. How big, how small … whether concrete dust could destroy it.
I reached for my coffee and my phone rang. My heart sped up. Who on earth was calling me so early? It couldn’t be good news. I reached for my phone. It was Daniel.
“Everything okay?”
“As okay as can be expected,” I answered.
“How is Mia?”
My eyes flickered to the front door. “Hard to say,” I said.
“Is she there?”
“No, she left for work.”
“How did she sleep?”
“She said ‘fine,’ but I don’t know.” I sighed. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t hear any footsteps last night.”
“What about dreams?” His voice was cautious.
I played with my coffee cup. “Dreams?”
“About Charlie.”
I was silent. Should I tell him? Did I want to tell anyone? A part of me had been a tiny bit relieved that Mia hadn’t wanted to talk that morning. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to say anything about what Aunt Charlie had revealed to me last night.
Of course, it was a dream. Just because I dreamed it didn’t make it real.
But ... all my other Aunt Charlie dreams had come true. Why should this one be any different?
“You did,” Daniel said, correctly interpreting my silence. “What did she say?”
“I ... it sounds crazy,” I confessed.
“Crazier than searching for a jade stone and finding it in a basement, leading to the discovery of a dead body?”
“Well, maybe not crazier than that,” I said. “But ...”
Someone knocked at the front door, causing me to jump. Actually, it was more of a loud pounding.
“What was that?” Daniel asked.
“Someone is at the door,” I said.
“At this hour?”
“It’s probably Chrissy,” I said, getting up. “She probably forgot her key. Let me call you back.”
“No,” he said loudly. “Keep talking to me. Go see who it is.”
More knocking. Well, pounding. “I’m coming,” I yelled. “Hold your horses.” Chrissy wasn’t typically so impatient.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Daniel muttered.
I shivered, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. The house felt so empty. I was so alone.
You’re in terrible danger, Becca.
Whoever was at the door knocked hard again. I sidled up to the door and put my eye to the peephole.
It was a woman. She was familiar, but I couldn’t immediately place her … that is, until she lifted her face to the peephole. Her blue eyes were full of hatred.
Louise.
I took a step back, my breath catching in my throat as she yelled from the other side of the door. “Becca, I know you’re in there. Open up.” She started pounding on the door. “Open this door!”
“Who is it?” Daniel asked.
“It’s Louise,” I said faintly. “She’s pretty upset.”
Daniel swore under his breath. “I’m calling the police,” he said. “Don’t open the door.”
“I just want to talk,” Louise yelled. “You can at least give me that courtesy.”
“Hold on,” I said to Daniel. “Louise,” I yelled back. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Le
t me in,” she yelled. “I just want to talk.”
“We can talk through the door,” I said. “What do you want?”
“Are you really going to do that to me? I know it was Jonathan in your basement. Was Jesse down there too?”
Oh God. I was starting to feel sick. It was my dream all over again. “Jesse wasn’t there,” I yelled through the door. “And we don’t know it’s Jonathan for sure.”
“Of course it’s Jonathan,” she yelled, banging on the door. “Who else would it be? He probably figured out that Charlie killed Jesse, and when he threatened to expose her, she killed him too. Let me in! I need to search the basement.”
“The police are on their way,” Daniel said. “And so am I.”
“Louise, I can’t let you in,” I yelled. “The police are still investigating. I’m sure once they know more, they’ll tell you.”
I waited for her to protest, to pound on my door some more, but there was silence. I held my breath, daring to hope. Did she leave? Was something finally going my way?
“What’s going on over there?” Daniel asked. I could hear the engine of his car starting.
I peered through the keyhole, hoping against hope it would be empty, but no. She was still standing there on my porch, her hands covering her face as her shoulders heaved.
Was she ... crying?
“I ... I’m not sure,” I said quietly to Daniel. Through the closed door, I said, “Louise?”
Now that I was closer, I could hear what sounded like muffled sobs coming from the other side. “You don’t understand,” she choked out. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to not know what happened to your brother? I miss him every day.”
“Oh Louise,” I said, feeling my heart crack. “Look, I’m sure the police ...”
“The police have never taken Jesse’s disappearance seriously,” she interrupted. “They always insisted he left because we fought. But I know better. He had a girlfriend. Did you know that? He wouldn’t have left her.”
“No, I didn’t know that,” I said, unclear where this was going. “Who was she?”
“He would never tell me her name, but I know he had one.” She sniffled into her hands. “I know I can’t go down in the basement,” she said humbly. “I’ll go home. But do you think I could have a glass of water first?”
Secrets of Redemption Box Set Page 91