by Linda Howard
“What did she do with her bloody clothes?” Gideon asked.
“I don’t know.”
Gideon nodded to Hope. “My cell phone is all but useless to me today.” Tomorrow was the summer solstice, and his electrical surges were coming more frequently than usual. “Call Charlie and have him get the crime scene techs in here to check the shower drain. Today,” he added forcefully.
Hope pulled out her own cell phone and made the call, and Gideon walked closer to Lily Clark’s much-too-solid image. “You can find those clothes for us,” he said. “Your blood, a part of you, is there, and if you concentrate, you can find them. I can’t guarantee that the clothes will lead us to the woman who killed you, but it’s a possibility.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” the ghost whispered.
“You can see so much more now, if you try. Think about that night. Remember what happened after. You watched Tabby walk out that door.”
“Yes,” Lily whispered. “I screamed at her, but she didn’t hear me. I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t do anything.”
“Did she have the clothes with her? Were they wadded up or stuffed in a bag or—”
“She was wearing my favorite dress,” Clark whined. She seemed to view that as just another indignity. “What nerve.”
“What about the clothes she was wearing when she killed you? Did she have them with her when she left?”
Lily cocked her head and turned her mind back to that night, even though she undoubtedly wanted nothing more than to forget. Maybe when this was done and she moved on she would forget. No one should carry such painful memories with them for eternity. “No,” she said thoughtfully. “All she was carrying was her purse. The knife was in it, freshly washed and wrapped in one of my nightgowns, and there wasn’t room in that purse for her clothes, too. She loved that knife,” the spirit added. “She touched it like it was alive.”
Gideon turned to Hope, who had just ended her phone call. “The clothes are here somewhere.”
“The room was searched,” she said.
Gideon walked into the bathroom. “Lily, did Tabby ever carry those bloody clothes out of this bathroom? After she had that shower, did she bring the clothes back out?”
The ghost shook her head, and Gideon glanced up at the tiles in the ceiling.
It would take a few days to get solid evidence from the clothes and the towel Gideon had found hidden above the ceiling tiles, but it was a step. They didn’t expect Tabby would have her name and address stitched into the clothes she’d worn, but at least they had something concrete, and there was bound to be recoverable DNA. All they needed was Tabby in custody so a match could be made.
They’d hit a dead end with the vehicle, which was all they’d gotten out of Dennis Floyd—who was locked up in a Hale County jail, still terrified that Tabby would find him, somehow. No blue Taurus in North Carolina was registered to anyone named Tabby or Tabitha, and none of the Catherines were a match. They would now begin searching all females, but damn, it was a long list.
Hope didn’t think they had that kind of time before Tabby struck again.
Gideon pulled the Mustang to the curb in front of The Silver Chalice, and Hope leaned over to kiss him briefly. “Be here by seven, if you can,” she said, and then she smiled. “Sunny is a better cook than I am, so you’re going to have to learn to grab a good meal when you get the chance.”
“Are we going to tell them the news over peach cobbler?” Gideon asked.
“Not yet.” Hope wasn’t sure how to tell her mother and her sister that she was going to marry this man she’d met on Monday. And as for Emma, there was no logical explanation. Not that her mother had ever required logic for anything.
Gideon nodded, visibly relieved. Maybe he wasn’t ready for explanations, either. “I’ll be back by seven.” He was going to the station to help Charlie with the vehicle search, unable to give up just yet. Unable to rest. She supposed that was something she would have to learn to live with.
“Sure you don’t want me to tag along?”
“It’s Saturday, and you need some time to visit with your sister before she heads for home.”
“Yeah, partners or not, it’s not like we’re joined at the hip or anything.” So why did she hate the very idea of watching him drive away? Tabby had been quiet for a couple of days. It was possible, even probable, that she’d left town after she’d stabbed Gideon. If she had a brain in her head, she’d run that very night. Gideon had seen her, and so had Hope. Hope wasn’t so sure Tabby’s brain worked in any logical manner; however, anything was possible.
Even if Tabby was still around, Raintree could take care of himself. So could she. They both had protection charms, weapons and better-than-average instincts. Her eyes flitted to the building across the street.
“They’re still there,” Gideon said.
“For how long?”
“Until we catch Tabby or have proof that she’s out of the picture.”
“I’d rather catch her.”
“Me, too.”
He kissed her again, and she exited the Mustang. The Silver Chalice was busy, as it often was on a Saturday afternoon. Tourists and regulars perused the items for sale, and there was a class of some kind going on in a back room. Meditation, vibrational healing…things Hope had always dismissed as nonsense.
She was able to look at the people in her mother’s shop with new eyes today. Maybe they knew something she didn’t. Maybe they saw or heard or touched things that had always been invisible to her, the way Gideon did.
An upside-down world wasn’t as unsettling as she’d imagined it might be. In fact, she was finding it more comforting than she’d thought possible.
Tabby slung the big purse off her shoulder and set it down behind a display of copper bells, partially hidden behind a book rack. This corner of the store was crowded with merchandise and was also unoccupied at the moment.
Normally she wouldn’t spend a second longer than was necessary in this place. The people here sought positive energy and were, for the most part, peaceful and calm. There was no power for Tabby in being in their company. She took no joy in this place, and in fact, it made her a little antsy. Still, she could hardly run into the shop, drop off the bomb and run out again, so she pretended to be interested in the merchandise.
She glanced up when the door opened with the jingling of a bell and smiled when she saw Raintree’s woman walk in. Well, this would be a nice bonus.
Even though the cop had chased her down the riverfront, Tabby didn’t fear being spotted here today. She was wearing a short dark wig and a baggy dress that disguised her shape. She stooped to diminish her height. There would be nothing familiar about her even if the cop noticed her. In any case, the woman wasn’t even suspicious. At the moment the detective was happy to the point of distraction.
Tabby felt that happiness the same way she was able to feel fear and horror, but she took no pleasure or strength from it. She did, however, take pleasure in knowing that happiness would be short-lived.
She walked away, leaving her oversized purse behind.
It was tough to help when getting too near the computer wasn’t wise, but Gideon tried. He looked at the vehicular records Charlie had printed out, and he scanned driver’s license photos until the faces all started to blur. Maybe Tabby’s name wasn’t Tabby after all. Maybe the car had been stolen from another state and the tags switched, and had been recovered or burned by now. Whatever the reason, he was getting nowhere.
He sent Charlie home with thanks and the promise of a get-together at the beach house, and sat down with the files of the unsolved murders that might or might not be Tabby’s work. Some cases came together quickly. Murderers weren’t usually the brightest colors in the box, and they left massive amounts of evidence behind. Tabby, if that was indeed her name, didn’t. She wiped down doorknobs; she cleaned up after herself. Dennis Floyd and the bloody clothes from the hotel and a couple of hairs were all they had. And none of those would do
any good unless—until—they caught her. When they did catch her, all that evidence would be enough to put her away forever.
His cell phone rang, and since there was no one else around to answer for him, he did it himself. The caller ID listed a Charlotte number, which meant it was likely Echo. She probably wanted to know if it was safe for her to come home. She was going to have a fit when he told her no.
There was so much static on the line that he could barely hear her. She was frantic, that much was clear, and he heard one word clearly. Dream. He told her to call him again on the land line in his office. Obviously she’d had a prophetic dream that alarmed her. He’d calmed her down a hundred times, after disturbing prophesies.
He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. At least he could do something with his abilities. There were many times when it seemed as if it would never be enough, but he did make a difference. Echo couldn’t, not without advertising what she could do to the public. The Raintree never advertised their abilities. Besides, how did you stop a disaster when the warning always came so close to the event? Minutes, sometimes. No more than an hour in most cases. Maybe, if she worked at honing her skills, the warnings would come with more lead time, but Echo was determined not to hone her skills.
If Emma’s talents took such a sad turn, would he want her to practice so that every dream was filled with horror?
The phone on his desk rang, and he answered, “Raintree.”
“I took a nap,” Echo said without preamble. “I just…fell asleep on the couch, you know, and I had this dream. I don’t understand this one, Gideon. It’s not like the others.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, remaining calm.
“There was an explosion. I couldn’t see where it was, but there were people,” she said in a low, shaking voice. “Lots of people. They didn’t know it was coming. One minute they were happy and laughing, and then…There was so much blood, and there was fire, and people were screaming….”
The odds were that it was already too late to help anyone, but he had to try. “Calm yourself and think back. There had to be a hint in the dream as to where this explosion took place. Just take a deep breath and go there, Echo. You can do it.” Whether she wanted to or not, she could do it.
He heard her take that deep breath. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said, only slightly calmer. “It wasn’t just people, Gideon. I mean, there were lots of people, and they were cut and burned. But the sun exploded, a big bright rainbow faded into nothing and disappeared, and the moon broke apart into a million tiny pieces….”
“I know what that means!” Gideon slammed down the phone, lifted it again and dialed The Silver Chalice. Normally he would call on the run, but his damned cell phone wouldn’t do for this call. Not today. He couldn’t take the chance that he would get cut off, or that Hope wouldn’t be able to understand. Rainbow answered, and his heart almost returned to a normal rhythm. He wasn’t too late. “This is Gideon. I need to talk to Hope.”
“Hope’s around here somewhere,” Rainbow Malory said casually. “I just saw her looking at some new…”
“This is an emergency,” Gideon interrupted. “I want you to get everyone out of the shop.”
“But—”
“Now.”
He hated to do this, but he had no choice. “There’s a bomb in your store.” Then he slammed down the phone and ran out of the office. He had other phone calls to make, but he would have to make do with the cell, interference or not.
From her seat by the window at the café across the street from The Silver Chalice, Tabby muttered a curse word as people began to stream out of the shop. Even from here, she could tell they were afraid and confused. She saw and felt it. Someone had found the bomb.
That didn’t mean it wouldn’t go off, or that she wouldn’t still have Gideon Raintree right where she wanted him, but it would have been nice to have a few fireworks to enjoy before things got under way. Panic was always so lovely to enjoy, and the terror of hearing bomb as opposed to the terror that came from actually experiencing it were very different sensations.
She studied the people who streamed from the shop, waiting for the female cop to show. The stream of people turned into a trickle, and the woman wasn’t among them. Tabby heard sirens in the near distance. Gideon Raintree was no doubt right behind the responding emergency vehicles. He might even get here before them.
Tabby took more than enough cash to pay for her coffee from the deep pocket of her oversized dress and placed it on the table. Then, with the tabletop shielding her hands from view, she removed the knife from the leather scabbard at her thigh and slipped it into her pocket, where it would be handy. Not that she was likely to need it. Much as she loved to work with her blade, she had a much more efficient weapon stashed in the back stairwell of the building across the street.
Ready for Raintree once again, determined to complete her task here and now, Tabby stood and headed outside.
The woman who owned The Silver Chalice stood on her tiptoes and searched the crowd, no doubt looking for her daughter. Tabby smiled. Maybe she would get that bonus after all.
Hope had intended just to change clothes, but her bed had looked so good that she’d fallen into it for a quick nap. After all, she hadn’t exactly had lots of sleep this week. She fell asleep easily, snug in her familiar bed, warmed to her bones in a way she hadn’t been warmed in a very long time.
She dreamed of Gideon and the beach, and of a dark-haired little girl who had a really great laugh. They were pleasant dreams, untouched by the stress of her job or any uncertainty about the future. There were no monsters here, not of the human variety, not of any variety.
Precious. Gideon thought she was precious. Whether he said so or not, that was love.
A door slammed, interrupting her pleasant dream of sand and laughter, and she heard Gideon calling her name. His voice was unnecessarily sharp, and it took her a moment to realize that what she heard wasn’t a part of her dream.
Hope opened her eyes as he rushed into the room. “Is it seven already?” she asked as she sat up and stretched her arms over her head.
“I think there’s a bomb downstairs,” he said crisply. “Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for her to respond but half lifted and half dragged her from the bed.
“I need my shoes,” she protested, still muddled from sleep.
“No time,” he responded, leading her toward the door that opened onto the stairway to the shop.
She was half-asleep, still fuzzy-brained and confused, and she wanted to collect her shoes and her purse and maybe an answer or two. “What do you mean, you think there’s a bomb?” That didn’t make any sense at all. There either was a bomb or there wasn’t.
“Echo had a dream.” Gideon’s jaw clenched, and a muscle twitched there.
“I wondered how you found out about the bomb so fast.”
They both spun to face the woman who stood by the kitchen door. She held a semiautomatic pistol in one hand, and with the other she removed a dark wig and shook out the long blond strands of her hair. Tabby was armed differently today, and she didn’t look at all inclined to run.
Gideon had one hand on the doorknob to the stairwell, the other gripping Hope’s arm. He smoothly placed his body in front of hers.
“Gideon Raintree,” Tabby said with a crooked smile. “This isn’t exactly what I’d planned, but I can’t say I’m disappointed. When I saw the bomb squad arrive I was disappointed, because I’d hoped to have a little time with your girlfriend before you showed up. Still, I suppose this will do.”
Gideon dropped Hope’s arm and pushed her aside as he smoothly drew his weapon. Her own weapon was in the other room, resting on the bedside table. She’d never thought she might need it here, and in an instant she understood the violation Sherry Bishop and Marcia Cordell and all the other victims had felt when Tabby had entered their homes.
Tabby’s aim never wavered. Her smile barely faded as she glanced at Gideon’s weapon. “Shoot me and you’l
l never find out where the second bomb is, or when it’s scheduled to go boom.”
Chapter 15
“What do you want?” Gideon tried to ease Hope toward the door, doing his best to place himself between the two women.
“First thing, I want you and your girlfriend away from that door.”
“She’s my partner, not my girlfriend,” Gideon said, knowing a close connection to him was a very bad idea at this particular moment.
“Liar,” Tabby said. “I can feel the connection rolling off both of you like the tide outside your window.”
Apparently the blonde had seen him and Hope together. She knew where he lived, too, which was more than a little disturbing. “You don’t need her,” Gideon said as he took a step toward Tabby.
“You don’t know what I need, Raintree,” Tabby snapped. “If your girl tries to leave before I say she can go, not only will I shoot her, I’ll make sure you don’t know where the second bomb is until it’s too late.”
He took another step toward the woman with the gun. “I’ll ask you one more time. What do you want?”
“I want both of you dead by the end of the day, and I want Echo. Where the hell is she?”
“You want Echo?” Gideon said calmly. “Is that all? Give me the location of the second bomb and we’ll talk.”
Tabby held the gun as if she were comfortable with it, as if she’d been in this very position many times before. “You’d give up your cousin so easily?”
He needed her to believe that he would trade his cousin’s life in order to save many others, so he remained calm as he answered, “Yes. For the bomb and Hope, you can have her.”
“You’re cold,” Tabby said. “Sensible and predictably noble, but cold. Stop right there, and very carefully put that gun on the floor.”
Lily Clark took shape beside Tabby and swiped vainly at the woman who had killed her. “There’s not another bomb. Don’t listen to her, Gideon! She’s trying to trick you. She tricked me, and she tricked other people, too. I know that now. Don’t let her trick you.”