Holly gave a little gasp and pointed to her phone, mouthing police at him. Her eyes were wide. She must be having a hell of a conversation too.
“I don’t get it,” Lawe said. “If Mountain Sun is fake, what’s with all the employees taking out mortgages?”
“Typical straw buyer scam. My guess is Jake and Paul recruited people to obtain mortgages using fake employment information. The applicants’ W-2s, pay stubs, and bank statements are all forged. A number of these loans went through Rock Trust Bank. With the kind of money they were running, my guess is they had an inside guy at the bank. Probably some paper pusher they bought off.”
Score one for Celia. Jake and Paul had been up to their stupid asses in fraud and criminal activity. The question now was whether she was right that her death had been murder.
“What happened to the properties?”
“Some defaulted. Some got sold to yet another shell company. I haven’t made it through all the layers of ownership on that one, but my guess is it’s another Jake Darlington special. If he sold properties to himself, he could pocket the money. And that’s on top of all the sweet fees Better Brokers added to the mortgages for processing and marketing and anything else they could think of. All in all, they defrauded banks to the tune of three million dollars.”
That startled him. “And two-thirds of it is sitting in Paul’s account. Why?”
“Looks to me like a falling out among thieves.”
Lawe rubbed his head. “So Paul ripped off his partner?”
“Maybe. Finding that out is going to take more firepower than I have.”
“Time to go to the cops,” Lawe said.
“Pffff. This is way beyond the cops. You want the FBI. Just don’t tell them I sent you.”
Lawe ended the call at the same time Holly ended hers.
“Me first.” She bounced naked on the bed, which he truly appreciated. “Jake’s in custody. One of the thugs cut a deal this morning and named Jake as the guy who hired them.”
She was safe. Tension he didn’t know he’d been carrying released from between his shoulder blades.
“After what Luis told me, Jake will be in prison a good long time.” He paused, not wanting to be the one to have to tell her this. “I’m sorry, Holly. Your husband was part of a multimillion-dollar fraud.”
Her smile dimmed, but she took the details of Luis’s call fairly well, all things considered. “So my husband really was a crook. And Jake killed him because Paul stole his stolen money.” She sounded neither surprised nor devastated, but maybe she was in shock. “At least now I know the truth.”
“Come here.” He patted the empty space next to him and she tucked herself into his arms. “What would you think…”
His voice trailed off. He wasn’t stupid. He knew she’d dodged his question last night in the shower, not that he was complaining about what had followed. But this morning, he needed an answer. “We solved Paul and Celia’s murder. Jake’s in jail. You’re safe. I’ll be leaving town soon. My work keeps me on the road a lot, but I could come back here between jobs, see you and the kids…”
Her body tensed. For a long moment, she didn’t respond.
“Can’t we enjoy each other for the rest of the time you’re here and save the serious stuff for another day?” she finally asked.
What man didn’t want to hear that? He should let it go, give her time, but as an exorcist he knew what happened when people let the important moments of life slip away. “Holly. You’re the kind of woman I could…” He cleared his throat. Spit it out. “It’s too soon to talk about things like love, but, well…I’m in love with you.”
She shot off the bed. “No, you’re not. Don’t say that.”
Fuck. Should have kept his mouth shut.
He sat up. “Not the response I was hoping for.”
Her whole body trembled and she grabbed the sheet bunched up at the foot of the bed, wrapped it around herself. “We’ve only known each other four days. You can’t be in love with me.”
His mouth hardened. “The living always complicate the hell out of their lives.”
“The living? You are one of the living. And the living do not fall in love like this. My God, four days ago you couldn’t get out of town fast enough, all because you wanted to avoid a family party. And now you tell me you’re in love with me? Newsflash—I have kids! And a big family! And we have parties and weekly dinners and get way too deep in each other’s lives. I’m exactly what you don’t want.”
“None of that sounds so bad anymore.”
“Oh gee, thanks.”
He blew out a breath. He couldn’t blame her for doubting him, not with his track record. But now that he’d said it, he didn’t get what the big deal was. He loved her. He was clear on that. Either she had feelings for him or she didn’t. “I’m not pressuring you for a commitment.”
She backed up a step. “It’s more than that. If you’re part of my life, I’ll be too tempted… It’s better if we don’t see each other after you go back to Seattle.”
A hot ball of emotion lodged in his chest, but he ignored it. He got out of bed, gently put his hands on her shoulders. Her lips quivered as though she were about to cry. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”
“No. No, I’m not.” She looked away. “I’m being mature for once. I can’t muck up my life again. I’ve got two young kids to think of, and I’m not dragging them through my relationship drama.”
“You’re giving up on us right out of the gate.”
She met his eyes. “There is no us.”
Pain knifed through him. His hands fell to his sides, and for a moment all he saw was a white nothingness surrounding him.
His vision cleared. She stood still as death, her face pale. With the sheet wrapped around her like a toga, she reminded him of a Greek statue. Whichever one was the goddess of kicking men in the gonads.
“You set the rules of this relationship early on. Using each other for sex. My fault for wanting more.”
Lawe lingered in Holly’s family room, looking at framed photos of the kids, while she put the twins down for their nap. He had one more piece of business to take care of and then he was leaving town.
He and Holly had called the FBI, handed over the bankbook and Luis’s findings. Anderson Webber had been notified that someone in his employ was likely running a scam through the bank. He’d called not long ago to apologize profusely to Holly, for the mountain house party, for having a criminal on his payroll, for doing business with Paul. The man was a giant puddle of guilt.
With the fraud scheme revealed, the police were more receptive to the theory that Paul had been murdered. Jake would be trading his designer suits for a prison uniform.
The kid sounds from upstairs finally faded and Holly came into the family room. She didn’t meet his eyes. “Ready?”
He summoned Celia.
“What’s up, doc?” The ghost popped into room, floating in lotus pose.
He and Holly took turns explaining everything to Celia, patiently repeating the parts she interrupted with fist-bumps, gleeful she’d been right all along.
“So that’s it,” Lawe finished. “You can move on to the other side.”
The self-satisfied smirk on her face turned to horror. “But the party tonight. Holly promised I could go since I’m tethered to her. This is the last party I’m going to go to for all eternity. You’ve got to take me.”
Holly reached out to put her hand on the ghost’s shoulders. Her fingers sank into iridescence and she yanked her hand back. “I’m sorry, Celia. We’re not going to the party. Lawe’s heading back to Seattle.”
She met his gaze for a moment, unhappiness clouding her witchy eyes. He nearly pulled her into his arms, but stopped himself in time. She didn’t want his comfort.
Celia emitted an exaggerated groan. “You are kidding me. You tw
o got into a fight, didn’t you? Cripes, the kids are asleep. Go make up. After what I heard last night, that should be no hardship.”
Lawe crossed his arms. Holly wouldn’t look at him.
If only it were as simple as Celia made it out to be…
Trust the dead to cut to the chase. But he inhabited the world of the living, where everything was infinitely more complicated.
Exasperation darkened Holly’s expression. “Our problems aren’t going away because you want to go to a party. And it’s none of your business.”
“Fine, you don’t care that I’ll never go to a party again in my whole afterlife. Think about Theo and Sadie.” A wheedling note entered Celia’s voice. “I saw how much Sadie loves her Gretel costume. You promised them caramel apples and candy. You can’t back out now.”
Holly’s eyes closed. A smile twitched Celia’s lips before she smoothed her expression back to desperate pleading. The ghost was going to get her way.
No way did Holly have the heart to banish her. He’d bet Celia would be hanging around the mortal plane for years as Holly’s immature, manipulative, ghostly third child.
His gut clenched. Holly welcomed everyone into her life but him.
Chapter Ten
Chill night air bit through Holly’s black witch dress as she stood on a flagstone patio overlooking a backyard thronged with guests. The smell of hamburgers and hot dogs wafted from the grill, and the sound system blared “Werewolves of London.” She probably should have chosen a warmer costumer, but the mild October days had lulled her into forgetting how fast the temperature dropped at night.
Ryan hugged her as though she were a long-lost family member, then introduced her to his wife, Beth, who did the same. “We are so glad to meet you,” Beth gushed, a smile on her pretty face. “We’ve been inviting Lawe to our Halloween parties for years, but this is the first time he’s shown up.”
“I’m glad to be here.” Holly infused as much warmth as she could into her voice, but Beth’s welcoming words sank like stones in her stomach. Beth and Ryan obviously considered Lawe one of the family—and extended the same welcome to her as Lawe’s date. For reasons she didn’t want to think about too much, he’d offered to stay and take her to the party after she’d given in to Celia. But it was obvious he didn’t want to be here. For the twelfth time in the past five minutes, he glanced at his watch.
“You even got Lawe to dress up.” Ryan flipped the big silver crucifix Lawe wore around his neck. “An exorcist. Very creative.”
“I’m the young priest.” Lawe’s voice held a flat tone she’d never heard from him before, and wished she wasn’t hearing now.
Her mind conjured the image of his face when she’d told him they had nothing together. He’d looked lashed raw, like she’d stripped something from him. That moment was going to haunt her for the rest of her life.
Beth pressed a kiss to Lawe’s cheek. “I know you hate these things, but try to have fun. If you can’t do that, go take Dec a bottle of water. He’s in the corner, drowning his sorrows in a sea of beer.”
“And he didn’t even bother with a costume.” Disgust laced Ryan’s voice. “Makes your priest thing look inspired.”
Lawe gave Beth a squeeze. His eyes met Holly’s over the top of the petite woman’s head, but she couldn’t read his expression. Without a word to her, he wandered off to find Dec.
Sadie and Theo, bundled in their Hansel and Gretel costumes, played in the corner of the yard roped off for little ones and presided over by Beth’s teenage nieces. The preschool set was having a great time with a mini obstacle course, a beanbag toss, and a giant leaf pile. White lights twinkled in the nearly bare aspen trees, and poles topped with glowing jack-o’-lanterns lined the back fence. Everything was festive and perfect.
She should be celebrating. Paul’s murder was solved and Jake was behind bars. Instead, she wanted to cry.
But she’d been right. She didn’t need to be in a relationship. She needed to rebuild her life.
Beth tucked her arm in Holly’s. “Follow me. I want to introduce you to the rest of the family.”
Holly allowed Beth to tow her to a group of women. She knew when she was being checked out. That didn’t bother her, but she should have told Beth not to worry. Lawe was leaving tomorrow morning. And that was for the best, even if the thought made her breath hitch.
Twenty minutes later, she extracted herself from a group of Beth’s friends. They were all nice women, but as the talk of husbands and family stuff went on, her throat began to ache. Brushing past a group of Ghostbusters, she plucked a bottle of water from a cooler on the patio and wandered onto the lawn, in search of a quiet corner.
Celia sparkled like a torch near the back fence. She’d tried, and failed, to conjure a Glinda the Good Witch costume and was stuck in her usual flowery dress and boots. She appeared to be chatting to someone invisible. Another ghost. Judging by Celia’s cocked hip, hair twirling, and toothy half-smile, that ghost was male.
Holly found a quiet spot under a big maple tree near the edge of the party. The music and noise swirled around her, but she was blessedly alone. Leaning against the tree trunk, she cracked open the water bottle.
Coming to the party had been a mistake. She’d rather be home, asleep in her bed, where no one expected her to keep up this fragile social façade. The feeling brought her back to the first days after Paul’s death when she’d been numb with grief…and suppressed rage.
Tomorrow she had to start house-hunting. Lawe’s friend Luis had warned her she was likely to lose the house and cars and anything else tied to the money Paul had stolen. His life insurance policy predated his involvement in the mortgage fraud scheme, so she’d likely be able to keep those funds. Between that and the bakery business she planned to start, she and the kids would be fine.
Lonely, but fine.
“Hello, Holly.”
The voice belonged to a big man in a Grim Reaper cloak. He ducked under the tree limbs and sidled next to her. His voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“Um, hi. Do I know you?”
He shoved something hard into her side and fear iced down her spine.
“Yeah, you know me.” Anderson Webber’s sour breath blew in her face. “Before you ask, the answer is no, I’m not happy to see you, that’s a gun pressed against your vital organs. Come with me.”
Chapter Eleven
Lawe took a seat next to Dec, invading his invisible Do Not Cross line in a dark corner tucked under the eaves of the house. He held out a bottle of water. “Beth said to give this to you.”
Dec accepted the bottle and tossed it onto the small wrought-iron table between their two deck chairs. He took a big swig of beer. “Errand’s done. Go back to your girl.”
Lawe rolled his beer bottle between his palms. Normally, he’d have been happy to sit with Dec in silence and drink beer, but tonight an unfamiliar sensation pressed against the back of his throat. The desire to commiserate about their fucked-up lives. “She’s not mine. I’m leaving town in the morning.”
“Then you’re an idiot.”
Well, what had he expected from a drunk?
“Glad we could have this chat.”
The music changed and the opening of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” creaked from the speakers. Laughter and the babble of voices rose in the night, but he and Dec were cut off, an island of two brooding fools.
“I’m sorry about Tia.”
Tipping up the beer bottle, Dec took a long swallow. “I screwed up.”
“Maybe if you talk to her when she calms down…”
Dec let out a loud belch.
“And after you’ve sobered up…”
“Too late. You know what she said to me? That she wasn’t sure whether I was delusional or a con man, but she’d be happy to check me into a mental hospital or the county jail, whichever would
do the trick. Civilians. They never get it.” He slugged more beer. “But Holly, she believes, you know? She can see her ghost. She knows what you do is real. She’s a total sweetheart. Did you know she brought me soup and a tiramisu cheesecake today? Fucking delicious too. If you walk away from her, you’re an ass.”
Anger pricked the back of Lawe’s neck. So much for this male bonding shit. “I told her I was in love with her and she said she wasn’t ready for a relationship.”
“You told a woman you’ve known for four days that you’re in love with her? That’s some stalker bullshit, dude.” Dec leaned across the arm of his chair and his elbow slipped. He swayed, caught himself. “You know jack about women. Did you cry when you told her, Betsy Wetsy?”
“Fuck off.” The words didn’t have much heat behind them. Probably because he knew Dec was right.
His friend laughed, a sloppy drunken sound.
The man had a point. What kind of dumbass brought up love in a relationship less than a week old? That was what he got for spending too much time with the dead. The dead were focused and direct, unperturbed by the mixed emotions that had plagued them when they were alive. It took that kind of single-minded driving force to enable them to cling to this plane of existence. Like Celia and her intense focus on solving her murder. Maybe his ability to relate to the complicated, conflicted living had decayed.
Dec rested his neck against the back of the chair, eyes closed. A snort-snore escaped his open mouth. Good, the man needed to sleep it off.
Lawe sat in silence, drinking beer until the phone in his pocket buzzed and he pulled it out. Luis had sent him a text.
The Exorcist Who Loved Me Page 11