Unseen

by Nancy Bush

  “He’s either out of range or it’s turned off or the battery’s dead. He’s unreachable.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Have you talked to him this afternoon?”

  Her accusatory tone bothered Gemma a bit. “We’re supposed to meet back at my house later.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “In my truck. Leaving LuLu’s,” she answered coolly.

  “Are you wearing a waitress uniform?”

  The question came out of left field and Gemma couldn’t miss the alarm in her voice. “No, I wasn’t working today. Why?”

  Detective Gillette made a strangled sound on her end of the wire. “Never mind. I’m letting the case infect me. Please have Will call me. Agent Sadowski wants to talk to him some more.”

  Gemma heard the click of the ended call.

  What had she meant about the uniform?

  Her cell phone rang in her hand and Gemma breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized Will’s number. “You know your partner’s trying to get hold of you?” she greeted him in exasperation. “She thought you’d run out of battery or something. Where are you?”

  “I know where you live,” a woman’s voice responded. “If you want to see your lover again, you’ll meet me there.”

  Gemma’s lips parted. Who? The woman’s voice. It was like a razor, shearing through the walls she’d erected around her own memories.

  Blood…surgery…and someone else. A doctor. Her mother. Totu.

  “Who are you?” Gemma demanded, blocking her ears to the quaking in her own voice.

  “Ani,” the woman answered.

  Gemma and Ani. Gemma-ani. Gemini.

  She could hear her real mother sing-songing, telling her that she would be safe with her father’s family. That Totu would care for her and that Ani would be in good hands with the doctor.

  “My sister,” Gemma said.

  But the phone was dead. Will’s phone. Her sister. Her twin sister had him under her power.

  The showdown—the Armageddon—Gemma always knew was coming was with her own sister.

  The wolf threw the dry sticks in the back of the truck on top of the witch-girl’s dead body. They reached to the roof of the GemTop and filled the entire bed. He’d already packed up a few meager belongings, all that he could take with him. He had to leave this place, this graveyard. Today he would find Ani—the murderer—and tonight he would make his pyre and burn her and the witch-girl.

  Then it would be done.

  As much as he would be able to do.

  A sharp breeze was blowing off the coast, cutting through his wool coat, blasting his cheeks. He tugged on his watchcap, bringing it down further over his ears.

  As Wolf slammed the back of the truck shut he heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel. Approaching tires. He froze and his face grew grim. He had no time for anything but his mission. He needed to leave the foothills near Deception Bay and head back over the Coast Range to Quarry.

  He didn’t want to turn around and even look at whoever had driven up his lane by mistake. Whoever it was wasn’t looking for him.

  So, it was with shock that he heard, “Bart!” from the driver of the older model Taurus wagon.

  Slowly, he swiveled around, staring as Seth Bellarosso slammed out of the Taurus and headed his way, blowing on his fingers. Then Wolf was in motion. Quickly he strode to meet him. He couldn’t have Seth getting too near his brother’s truck, maybe catching a peek beneath the GemTop.

  “What are you doing here?” Wolf demanded.

  “You been taking my cars?” Seth fired right back. “A detective from the Winslow County Sheriff’s Department showed up and they’re impounding two of the vehicles. Said they thought a woman stole them and used them in crimes, but I got to thinking that maybe it was you.”

  “No.”

  “Easy vouched for you but Easy’s dead.”

  “Ani killed him.”

  “I know, I know. And Easy said you killed your mother. Everybody’s a murderer.” Seth threw up his hands in disgust. “All I know is someone’s been boosting my cars. And now the brown Chrysler’s gone.” He glanced around and waved an arm toward the truck. “Is Easy’s truck the only vehicle here, Bart? Or will I find another one parked behind the house?”

  “Go look,” the wolf invited. It bugged him that Seth wouldn’t call him Wolf. Bartholomew Haines had died about the same time as his brother Ezekiel.

  But Seth was staring at him as if he’d said something important. Wolf ran his last words through his mind but there was nothing that made any sense.

  “It’s Ani,” Seth said suddenly. “She took the cars. Your brother taught her how to be a car thief, didn’t he? And the bitch took my cars.”

  A whiff of the witch-girl rose on the air. Wolf smelled it but pretended not to. His pulse beat slow and hard.

  Seth grimaced. “Something dead around here.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know where Ani is?” he demanded.

  “No.”

  “I’m gonna call that detective and tell him who to look for. She’s somewhere around the coast. Always turns up like a bad penny.”

  Seth slammed back into his Taurus and reversed with a roar down Wolf’s driveway.

  Ani wasn’t at the coast. Ani was in Quarry. He’d found her at the diner but she’d followed that guy, drove her car into the ditch and wound up at the hospital. Then he’d lost her again when he’d killed the nurse-witch, but she was still there.

  And she was driving a Chrysler sedan. He knew the car well.

  If Quarry was where she lived, then Quarry was where she would die. The One. The true witch. In her little crisp dress with its white collar and her long, smooth legs and her ways of mewing and moaning to EZ. She’d strangled him with the lamp cord. He’d known it from the beginning. But she’d been elusive—had fooled the police—and he hadn’t been ready to send her back to hell at that time anyway. He hadn’t understood his mission completely then. He’d had to think. Remember. Listen to the witch-mother’s harsh laughter as he lay on the bed and saw her face above him. I only want your brother, she said, smoke drifting from her curved lips.

  Seth was after Ani.

  Now Wolf bolted for his truck. Time to leave. Time to find the witch who’d seduced his brother. Kill her. Kill her like he’d killed the mother-witch. Lash her to the burning pyre.

  At the base of the quarry.

  Barb called Will’s cell for about the twentieth time. Finally it started ringing instead of going straight to voice mail. “Jesus, about time,” she muttered. “Come on, come on.”

  The phone was answered. She could hear the connection. But no one spoke. “Will?” she asked. A moment later she was listening to dead air.

  She grabbed up her purse, holstered her gun, put on her jacket. Her expression was grim when the sheriff suddenly popped his head in the door. She straightened, ready to take the heat for her earlier insubordination. “Amy Dunleavy called 911. Some woman came into their home and now Kevin Dunleavy’s dead.”

  “How? Who?”

  Nunce shook his head. “Shot with a small caliber.”

  Barb froze. “A .22? Like Spencer Bereth?”

  “Maybe.”

  Fuckin’ A, she thought. Gemma LaPorte. Gemma La Porte had killed Letton, Bereth, and now Kevin Dunleavy.

  “She’s a killer, sheriff,” she said unsteadily. “And I can’t get hold of Will.”

  A harsh line cleaved Nunce’s forehead. “He’s with her?”

  “She said she was meeting him at her house. She could have been lying.” Barb was in motion. “Maybe she’s already there.” She was almost out the door, but then she stopped herself. “Wait. I’ll call her again. Will was at least smart enough to give over her phone numbers.” With shaking fingers Barb tried the home phone first but it just rang and rang. She then pressed the buttons for Gemma’s cell and was nearly bowled over when she answered again.

  “Hello,” Gemma said
cautiously, her voice strained.

  “Where are you?” Barb demanded, then quickly added, “This is Detective Gillette.”

  “Oh…I’m…going back to the diner.”

  “I thought you were meeting Will at your house.”

  “I don’t know where he is,” she blurted out fearfully. “Can you find him?”

  Barb’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

  “I got a call on his cell…from a woman…I think she may be the one you’re looking for…I think she has Will!”

  Her delivery was halted. Like she was making it up. Barb couldn’t tell what kind of game she was playing. “I’ll meet you at the diner,” she said.

  A hesitation. “Okay.”

  Gemma was lying. She was heading to her house as fast as she could, the truck’s engine roaring though the damn thing barely crested forty-five miles per hour. She didn’t know what she expected from Ani, but she didn’t want Will’s partner in the way. She knew that wasn’t going to work. She had to face Ani head on and hope she could reason with her.

  If not…she wondered if she could kill her.

  To save Will.

  Will worked his wrists against the ropes, pulling hard, succeeding only in feeling them tighten. He set his jaw. What he really needed to do was release the pressure. Let the ties relax. If he could just slip his wrist down gently…

  He closed his eyes and gently moved his left wrist. His captor had been so intent on making sure that the wrist he’d tied—the right one—was tightened down that his left had just been given more cursory attention. He tugged lightly. The silken rope edged up his thumb pad a tiny bit.

  In time…in time…

  But there was no time.

  Relax. Be calm.

  Get free…

  Barb reviewed what Gemma had told her on her way to Quarry. She felt she was being manipulated. The last time she’d talked to Will he’d been on his way home. Gemma had told her they were meeting at her place, then those plans had changed.

  Or had they?

  Maybe Will was already there.

  Or maybe Will was at his own home.

  Or maybe Gemma had told the truth about going to the diner.

  Eenie, meanie, miney, mo…

  Barb chose Gemma LaPorte’s home.

  It was with a feeling of coming home that Ani drove the Chrysler into her hiding spot and walked down the long drive to the farmhouse where Gemma LaPorte lived. Gemma, who’d been saved by their Indian grandmother and then adopted out to the LaPortes. Her sister Gemma, who’d been loved and nurtured while Ani had been forced to forge a different path.

  But they were the same. The detective—Will, as the voice on the phone had called him—said Gemma read minds—emotions—and Ani could as well. That’s how she’d first sensed Letton’s intentions. That’s how she’d learned to avoid the doctor when he was getting in a “mood.”

  She resented the fact that Gemma had been loved. Still, they were sisters. Ani just wasn’t sure what to expect from her.

  Wouldn’t it be great if they could just trade places? But that would never happen while Gemma was alive. And Ani could never have Will for the same reason.

  And Ani realized, also, that the gig was up. She couldn’t go back to Seaside, or Deception Bay, where it all began. She would have to leave. Go far away after this. Will knew what she’d done. She’d told him. It was only a matter of time.

  But if she was gone, then this would all fall on Gemma. Will could say there were two of them all he wanted, but no one would believe him. Why should they?

  Or maybe they would. She wasn’t sure.

  But she knew if she was gone, then she wasn’t with Will. She couldn’t kidnap him forever. He would escape.

  He and Gemma both might have to die, she thought with a pang.

  But maybe she could keep Will for a while.

  Just a little while.

  Before she had to kill him, too.

  Gemma slammed the truck up the lane, bumping along. The damn thing shimmied and shook like it was in its death throes, and the action brought her driver’s window down about halfway on its own. A second later it fell in to the door and shattered as cold air reached in and lifted Gemma’s hair. She shivered at the frigid air against her neck.

  There was no other vehicle in sight. Gemma wondered if she was walking into some kind of trap. She was furious, her earlier fear crystallizing into anger. How dare this Ani kidnap Will. How dare she play with their lives like she’d been doing this past month! All the fears about her own culpability…all the energy wasted…she wanted to strangle this sister.

  She slammed out of the truck and hurried up the back porch, letting herself inside cautiously, locking it behind her. The poker was back in its wrought-iron holder and she hurried to the living room and snatched it up. Her weapon of choice, she thought with a twinge of self-awareness. She hadn’t run anyone down with a car. She hadn’t shot anyone. She’d chased Bereth but had ended up in a ditch.

  She toured the upstairs, holding the poker like a club. There was no one in the house as far as she could tell. Cautiously, she went back down the stairs. Glancing toward the front door she nearly fainted. A woman was looking inside.

  Her own face.

  The poker nearly fell from her nerveless fingers and she had to catch herself. Her head buzzed. She realized she was going to faint.

  The woman outside rattled the door, pointing angrily for Gemma to open it. The fact that she wasn’t some specter, that she really existed and wanted Gemma to let her in, added an odd normalcy that kept Gemma from passing out.

  Wondering if she was opening Pandora’s box, Gemma unlatched the door and stepped back.

  And Ani walked through.

  They stood in the living room silently, gauging each other. Gemma felt weird, but she thought she’d feel weirder. It was surreal, yet it was the showdown she’d been waiting for.

  “Where’s Will?” Gemma asked. “What have you done with him?”

  “He’s lying in bed where I left him.” A corner of her mouth lifted. “Tied to the bedposts.”

  Her voice…it was slightly deeper than Gemma’s. Smokier. “You kidnapped him.”

  “He invited me in. Thought I was you, of course. He was ripping off my clothes before I could introduce myself.”

  Gemma wanted to believe she was lying, but she could read Ani clearly. The picture that came to her mind made her slam the door on her thoughts. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Put that thing down,” Ani said calmly.

  Gemma didn’t hear her. Didn’t respond. She barely noticed that Ani was carrying a small handgun that was hanging at her side, held by loose fingers.

  “You killed them all, didn’t you?” She was surprised at how only mildly curious she sounded.

  “I had to. I didn’t really get that you were around. It kind of came to me later, like a bolt out of the blue. Was it like that for you?”

  “When you called.”

  She nodded. “I like Will. I could fall in love with him. I didn’t think I could love someone, but I don’t know…maybe…” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Do you remember our mother?” she asked suddenly.

  “No. Our real mother, you mean?” Gemma shook her head.

  “She’s crazy. Lives in Deception Bay. A psychic.” Seeing Gemma’s reaction, she said, “You do know her.”

  “No, it’s just…my adoptive mother thought she was a psychic.”

  “Thought?” She frowned. “Oh, I see. She used you as her conduit. Huh. Maybe she wasn’t as perfect a mother as I thought.”

  “She wasn’t perfect,” Gemma responded.

  “She wasn’t a child molester, though, was she?”

  “No….”

  “My adoptive daddy was.”

  “Dr. Loman?” Gemma said without thinking.

  “You know.”

  Gemma gazed at her helplessly. “Only through hypnosis. Only today.”

  “I just learned about you today.” Sh
e gestured to Gemma’s hip. “We were stuck together and our mother thought we were from the devil. She gave me to Loman and you to our grandmother, I think.”

  “Totu.”

  “That was her name?”

  “It’s what I called her. But she left me on a ferry and I was found and adopted out. I think…” Gemma said, delving back into the deepest recesses of her mind. “I think she wanted to keep with the old ways. Out of step with her family. And I scared them because I could predict things and they would happen.”

  “Mind reading.” Ani leaned in close. “And maybe a bit more?”

  Gemma gulped. “Maybe,” she said, admitting it to herself for the first time.

  There was a sound on the porch and they both whipped around. A woman stood there. In jacket and slacks. She peered through the window at the two of them and her mouth dropped open.

  “Detective Gillette,” Gemma realized aloud.

  At that moment the detective pushed open the door, gun raised.

  As if she’d expected it all along, Ani simply lifted her handgun and shot her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wolf kept a window rolled down even though the air felt like it was full of ice crystals. The witch-girl smelled. One day and she already gave off her evil odor. Proof that she needed to be sent back to hell and soon. Tonight.

  He drove down the rutted track that led to the bottom of the quarry. Twice he had to get out and remove debris from the road. No one had been down this route in a long time. Good.

  As soon as he reached the bottom, he feverishly pulled out all the sticks and the witch’s body. He flung her into the bushes then began building his pyre. There were logs. Many of them, and he had a hatchet to cut them. He worked methodically and quickly and by the time night was drawing its curtain he was satisfied that it was good enough. He would come back when he had Ani. Then he would burn them both, but only one of them would be dead first.

  Climbing back in his truck he sniffed the interior. Dead smell, but not as strong. Good. He threw it into gear and headed back up the track. Ani was in Quarry. He knew it.