Dead People In Love (Haunted Hearts)

by Edie Ramer

  His fingers twitched, though he kept his gaze on Cassie. “I did it for love.”

  Cassie suddenly wanted to burst into tears. The same emotion she felt watching a video of a dog saving a kitten from the fire.

  She didn’t know if Herb had haunted Rose’s late husband to death. And she didn’t care. Some people deserved to die.

  A man like Rose’s late husband... If he’d sobered up, he would probably have started a search for his next heiress. Maybe this one wouldn’t have been married. Maybe the only obstacle would’ve been Rose...

  Once evil entered a man’s soul, it left a stain that didn’t easily wipe off.

  “Most of the adult ghosts I’ve met have gotten younger the longer they stay on earth,” she said. “You’ve gotten older. I’ve never seen that happen before.”

  “I did it for Rose,” he said.

  “I was getting wrinkles.” Rose sounded indignant, as if time had betrayed her. “He looked so young while I looked so old...”

  “She was going to get a face lift.” His expression was pained.

  “I wanted to look young for him.” She gazed at him like a lover.

  Cassie stood. If she stayed longer, she’d go back to the hotel suite all sweet and happy, and Luke wouldn’t recognize her. He’d married a tough piece of steak, not a marshmallow.

  “I’m not needed here anymore.” Looping her purse strap over her shoulder, she tilted her head at Herb. “You could’ve left any time. You weren’t confused. You didn’t stay because of hatred or revenge.”

  She paused, and there was a profound silence during which she felt their gazes on her, realizing they waited for her next words.

  Her voice soft, she said, “You stayed for love.”

  Exhaled breaths murmured through the living room. An “aaaaaah” sound of shared wonder.

  “There’s no cure for love, people.” She knew about love now and wouldn’t give it up for anything. “I’m outta here.”

  Smiling, she headed into the hallway toward the door, but when she opened it, someone was standing in her way.

  Olivia.

  Chapter 7

  Olivia gave Cassie a look that should have left a line of fire running straight down her middle. Her mouth tightened. With her oversized designer purse looped over her arm, she whipped past Cassie, as if she were the queen and Cassie was a peasant.

  Cassie turned to watch Olivia’s ramrod straight back, her purposeful march down the hall.

  A chill made Cassie shiver. She should get out of this before the next drama erupted. But she stood frozen, as if she was about to watch an accident unfold.

  “Donovan, I’m not leaving us like this.” Olivia enunciated clearly, her tone purposeful. “We need to talk.”

  Cassie headed into the living room, standing just inside the entrance and watching. As if she were the ghost, she thought.

  Olivia stood in front of Donovan, her back to Rose. Cassie wondered if Olivia had noticed the older gentleman seated next to Rose who at first glance appeared solid... But when Cassie looked hard, she saw the gold material of the couch through his body.

  “Not now.” Donovan hunched back in the chair. The picture of a man who did not want to do this.

  “Yes, now.” Olivia’s voice was imperious. “If you really love me, you’ll do what I ask.”

  Donovan glanced around the room, as if looking for an escape route. Cassie didn’t like Olivia, but she winced for her. She’d seen that look in her dating life.

  But when she’d encountered it, her head had snapped up, along with her pride, and she’d marched away. Telling herself the jerk didn’t deserve her.

  Olivia had her own plan, stepping closer to Donovan. Cassie cringed for her. Dumb move. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  She didn’t like Olivia, but watching this disaster made her stomach clench.

  “I’m not leaving until we talk,” Olivia said.

  The couch made a noise, Rose pushing up to her feet. “Olivia—”

  “No!” Olivia snapped around, and the large purse hanging from her shoulders swung out and then back to her hip. She raised her arm and pointed at Rose. “You don’t get to talk. It’s your fault Donovan is turning from me. You’re the reason he’s pulling back. You never liked me, did you? You did everything you could to split us up.”

  “That’s not true—”

  “You even brought your neighbor here to take him away from me.” The muscles in Olivia’s face tightened. “I’m not going to allow that.”

  Herb stood, and so did Donovan. “That’s enough. Keep my grandma out of this. You’re acting crazy. You’re—”

  “Oh my God!” Olivia’s pointing finger moved to Rose’s right, aimed straight at Herb. He’d floated up, the soles of his brown shoes a half foot above the faded Aubusson rug.

  “Herb.” Rose shook her head at him. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “It shut her up, didn’t it?” He winked at her, obviously enjoying this, not seeing the sickness in Olivia’s staring eyes. Not seeing the craziness.

  Cassie saw. Her heart beating faster, she saw everything.

  Olivia backed up, passing Donovan, her hand shaking, small noises coming out of her throat. “I can see through you... You’re a...a...a...”

  “A ghost.” Herb smiled at her.

  Her arm dropped and she dug her hand into her purse. “You’re evil,” she said, her voice low. “Evil.”

  A sick feeling rose in Cassie’s throat. This was not good. She should leave.

  But instead of turning toward the door, she crossed to where they stood like statues. Herb still smiling, Rose frowning, Donovan looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

  Cassie stopped in front of Olivia, who stared over her head at Herb, her eyes wide.

  “Ghosts aren’t evil,” Cassie said. “They’re like any other men. Herb stayed with Rose because he loves her. You know about love, don’t you?”

  Olivia blinked. Her face changed. The crazy still in her eyes but it was a cunning craziness now. “I know about men who say they love you. But they lie. They always lie.” Olivia drew her hand out of her purse, and she was holding a gun.

  Pointing it at Cassie, Olivia smiled. A colder than cold, icy-as-hell smile.

  But Cassie didn’t believe in hell. What she believed in was death. And she wasn’t ready to go there. Not until she was much older, with her own grandchildren who would never want to put her in a home.

  And if she was really lucky, Luke would be alive, too, a grouchy old man who still made her happy in bed.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. Not that it wasn’t obvious what Olivia was doing. But it was a better question than “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  The last time someone had pointed a gun at Cassie, a ghost had saved her. What were the odds that Herb had figured out how to use ectoplasm to make his body solid?

  Very, very tiny.

  “If I’m not getting the man,” Olivia said, “I’m getting what’s due to me.” Breathing hard, she gazed over Cassie’s shoulder.

  Cassie took advantage of her inattention to sidle sideways, her heart thumping in her chest. Like stealing a base in baseball. Only what she wanted to steal wasn’t a home run. It was her life.

  “You’re dumping me, aren’t you?” Olivia stared at Donovan, her voice low and furious. Her lips twisted, anger streaming out of her pores. “You think I didn’t see the signs? Once you saw that big-haired pastry cook, I could tell you were gone.”

  “Don’t blame Bridget,” Donovan said, and the floor creaked under his step, coming closer to Cassie.

  “Oh, this is wonderful.” Olivia gave a choked laugh. “I have a gun pointed at you, yet you’re worried about her?”

  “Why?” Donovan took another step. “Why am I so important that you’ll kill for me? I’m not making a lot of money. I’m no match for your wealthy friends.”

  Olivia’s upper lip pulled back, showing her teeth and her disdain. “Your money is nothing. And if you t
hink I’ve done this for love, you’re delusional. I never loved you. I thought you had potential. With my advice and connections, I knew I could make you wildly successful.” She swept her hand in the air, gesturing at the room. “And the best part was that you had this.”

  Breathing shallowly, Cassie slid another sideways step. She spotted a brass vase about three feet away on a long table against the wall. If she could lunge forward, grab it, then use all her strength to—

  “It’s the condo,” Olivia went on, waving the gun in a way that made Cassie suck in her breath, her heart hammering.

  “You know where I’m living now,” Olivia went on, her voice hard-edged, angry, like a volcano that had been simmering for months and was about to blow. “We lost everything. My dad left with his girlfriend to London. My mother moved to Columbus. Ohio! Can you imagine? Neither of them cared about me. They only thought about themselves. Their entire lives they only thought about themselves.”

  The hammering in Cassie’s heart quickened.

  “I can’t invite my friends over,” Olivia said. “They knew how I lived before. If they saw my apartment now, they’ll pity me. They’ll drop me from their invitation lists. They’ll pay someone else to decorate their homes. I won’t be one of them anymore. I’ll be...” She stopped, her jaw trembling. “Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing.”

  “You want my condo?” Rose stepped toward Olivia, stopping at Donovan’s side, her voice rising with disbelief. “That’s why you’re doing this?”

  “You don’t know what you have here.” Olivia gestured at the wall. “Your lake Michigan view. The North Lake Drive address. The butler’s pantry. The three bedrooms.” She peered down her nose at Rose, her mouth angry, her voice hard. “What does an old woman need three bedrooms for? This place could be a showcase. Instead it’s dowdy and old-fashioned. Once it’s mine, I’ll make every room shine.”

  “You’re insane. The police will know it’s you. You’ll go to jail.”

  Olivia smiled, her eyes lit up. Cassie could practically see the energy pulsing from her pores. “I won’t get caught. The gun isn’t registered. The police don’t know I have it. They won’t suspect the bereaved fiancée.” She laughed, too high, too strident. “Donovan’s will leaves everything to me. The place will be mine. All mine.”

  “Get back, Grandma,” Donovan said sharply. He reached out with his long arm and stepped forward. “I’m not going to let you do this. You need help, Olivia. It’s your friends who are nothing and worthless. Not you.”

  “You fool.” She laughed, hard-edged and wild. “You’re not just nothing, you’re dead.”

  Backing up, she lifted the gun an inch.

  “No!” Rose called as Cassie jumped to the side and grabbed the vase. It was too late but she had to try.

  “No!” Herb yelled.

  Vase in hand, Cassie turned as the gun made a popping sound. At the same instant, Rose lurched in front of Donovan.

  Donovan shouted. Herb roared. Rose tipped sideways, a surprised look on her face. Olivia jumped back a step, then pointed the gun at Donovan.

  Cassie threw the vase.

  Donovan leapt over Rose’s legs, his head down, straight at Olivia.

  The vase hit Olivia’s arm and she stumbled back.

  Cassie’s heart hammered harder. Everything was happening in slow motion, but she could see Donovan was still too slow. Olivia would shoot him. He was going to die.

  She’d be next.

  “NOOOOOOO!”

  The yell blasted the air, and Olivia’s gaze jerked. So did Cassie, looking sideways at a white outline of a figure streaking at an impossible speed toward Olivia. Like something from a graphic novel.

  Olivia screamed and stepped back again, into the hall. Out of Cassie’s sight.

  Donovan stopped his forward rush. Standing straight. Staring. His jaw dropped.

  Herb, Cassie thought. The white streak was Herb.

  She reached Donovan’s side in time to see Herb meld into Olivia. His icy body and her human body becoming one.

  Olivia screamed. An unearthly sound.

  It cut off abruptly.

  Her face showed through the back of Herb’s head, as if she were peering through a thick window. Her mouth still open in a silent scream. Her eyes wide with horror. Unmoving and still.

  Cassie put her hand over her heart. Olivia was being literally frozen by a man-sized ice cube.

  If Cassie yelled for Herb to stop, maybe he would leave Olivia’s body. Maybe she would move again. Breathe again. Talk again.

  Maybe her heart could beat again.

  Donovan made a hurt sound and dropped to his knees, bending over Rose. “Grandma,” he said softly. A second of silence stretched out before his voice rose in a wail of grief. “Grandma!”

  Cassie didn’t open her mouth and yell, still watching the tableau in front of her. As if she were gazing at a painting. Practically hearing the seconds tick by. Her own heart beating slowly now in powerful thumps.

  And still Olivia stood frozen. Something was happening to her face. The spark in her eyes fading. Dying.

  Behind her, she heard Donovan fumbling, then faint beeps of phone numbers being pressed. A short silence, which her breath held... “My grandmother’s been shot.” His voice was hoarse. “I think she’s dead. Help me. Help me.”

  Herb cried out and his outlined body separated from Olivia’s. Her eyes and mouth still open, she toppled to the wooden floor, her head thudding.

  With one glance, Cassie saw she was lifeless. Gone.

  Except she wasn’t all gone. A whitish blue image stood above her, looking down, a slightly puzzled look on her round face.

  Olivia’s ghost. Her gaze met Cassie’s.

  “What happened?” she asked. “What happened?”

  “You’re dead.” Cassie made a shooing gesture. “Go away.”

  She turned back to see Donovan on his knees, his hands on the center of Rose’s chest, pumping. Pausing. Pressing down. Pausing. Pumping...

  “Rose!” Herb called.

  Rose’s eyes opened, only it wasn’t one Rose, but two.

  “Rose!” Herb called again.

  With a glad cry, one of the images surged upward toward Herb. His arms out, he caught her. Embraced her. Kissed her.

  “Finally,” she said, staring into his eyes, her hands caressing his head. A joyful smile lit up her face. “Finally.”

  The tears in Rose’s eyes had to be from remnants of her live self, because ghosts didn’t have tear ducts. They couldn’t cry.

  But Rose’s eyes didn’t seem to know it, blinking back a sheen of moisture as she separated from Herb and turned to Cassie.

  “We have to go.”

  Cassie nodded.

  “Tell Donny to stop giving me CPR. Tell him it’s not his fault. Tell him I’m happy. Tell him I’m going to look for Frankie and give him a hug from Donny.”

  Cassie nodded with each instruction.

  “One more thing.” Rose laughed. “Tell him to marry Bridget.”

  The two turned to each other, their hands grasped. Beaming, they disappeared.

  As if she’d been released from a spell, Cassie let out a long held-in breath and glanced around. There was only her and Donovan and the two dead bodies in the condo. Olivia was gone already. Probably off haunting one of her so-called friends.

  If anyone called Cassie to get rid of Olivia, she wouldn’t go.

  Scooting down next to Donovan, she put her hand on his shoulder. “Rose is gone,” she said.

  “No!”

  “Yes.” She made her voice firm. “She left some messages.”

  He continued the CPR.

  She started repeating Rose’s last words. When she got to the message about Frankie, Donovan stopped pumping and she stopped talking. Slowly, he sat back.

  “Do you know who Frankie is?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “A cocker spaniel.” He tilted his head back and laughed and laughed.

  A
nd then he was crying. Over his sobs, Cassie heard the whine of sirens outside the red brick building.

  “Your grandmother’s happy.” She bent and put her hand on his arm. “She’s with Herb. They kissed.”

  “Can ghosts kiss?”

  “They did.” Cassie guessed there was some ectoplasm involved. Something they did without even knowing it. Just from wanting it so badly. “She wanted you to be happy, too. I forgot to give you one last message.”

  “What?” he asked, not taking his gaze off Rose’s still body.

  “She said you should marry Bridget.”

  His head snapped to her. A choked sound came from the entranceway, and he swiveled. Looking straight at Bridget.

  He jumped to his feet and in two strides, he was holding her. “Don’t cry,” he said. “Don’t cry.”

  But she did.

  He comforted her, his arm around her back. Holding her close.

  Cassie lifted her head to the high ceiling of the condo that Olivia wanted badly enough to kill for. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered, her eyes blurry even though everything had happened for the best.

  The elevator chimed, and she guessed the hall door was still open. She hurried to pick up her purse so she could call Luke and tell him she’d be late.

  But as soon as the police released her, she’d be all his again.

  Her job here was over.

  Chapter 8

  “Stupid,” Luke said, his voice sleepy.

  This wasn’t Cassie’s favorite way to wake up from a late afternoon nap. She turned over in their king-sized bed at the hotel and punched him in the bicep.

  “Ow!” Luke crossed his arm over his bare chest and covered his abused muscle. “I wasn’t talking about you. And how come your knuckles are the only bony part on you?”

  “Because I don’t kill myself dieting.”

  “Don’t ever diet.” He let go of his bicep and held out his arms for her.

  For that he deserved a kiss, which she gave him. If they hadn’t just made love thirty minutes ago, the bedroom still smelling of sex, it might have led to something more. Instead she gave a happy sigh and rolled off him.