You’re the One That I Haunt

by Terri Garey

The noises issuing from Boyd’s mouth hardly sounded like something created by angels, in my opinion. I glanced around at the crowd, who were swaying and shouting, focused on their leader, oblivious to the very personal drama playing itself out on the stage.

  Crystal moved toward him, very slowly, and with every step she took, he took a step backward. Fumbling with his Bible, he held it in front of him, like a shield, never letting go of the microphone. She was between us now, her jutting shoulder blades right in front of me, and I knew what she was about to do.

  Poor bastard.

  “Bah, bah, back—“he stuttered, sounding more like a sheep than those he led, “back, foul demon!”

  Automatically, I looked at Sammy. His face was stern, expression forbidding. Like everyone else, his attention was focused on Boyd.

  Crystal’s image shimmered, wavering like a heat mirage. And then, as I’d seen her do before, she contracted into a thin wisp of vapor and shot, like a snake, directly at the preacher.

  His Bible did him no good. His body began to shake, his eyes to bulge, as the ghost of the girl he’d molested possessed him completely.

  “Hallelujah, brother!” yelled a man in my ear. He clearly had no idea what was going on. “The ecstasy is upon him! Praise God and all his saints!”

  “Hallelujah,” shrieked a woman from the audience. She started gabbling something that sounded like nonsense, eyes closed in some kind of religious ecstasy, hands raised toward heaven.

  Jimmy Boyd staggered, swaying on his feet. His face was turning bright red, eyeballs bulging in his head.

  Panicky now, I glanced at Tina and Amber, to see Amber looking scared and Tina beginning to frown, as though she’d finally gotten an inkling that something was wrong.

  “God forgive me, for I have sinned,” Boyd’s mouth was moving, but the voice issuing from his throat wasn’t quite his own. “I’m a defiler of children, a liar, a perversion upon the face of the earth! Suffer not to have your children come unto me, for I shall take advantage of them sexually, as I did Crystal Cowart!”

  I watched as faces in the crowd went from flushed and smiling to frowning and uncertain. The room became very quiet, as the magnitude of what he’d said sunk in.

  He waved the Bible in the air with a jerky motion. “‘But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depths of the sea!’” he squealed, obviously unable to stop himself.

  Time slowed to a crawl. Now only strangled sounds came from the creep’s throat. As I watched, the microphone fell from his hand and hit the stage floor with a loud clunk.

  Boyd grabbed his chest with his free hand, making wide arcs in the air with the Bible. He took a step backward, then toppled, falling to the stage.

  And suddenly, I was free, as the people holding me rushed toward Boyd’s prone figure. I stood there, alone and shaken, as several more people crowded onto the stage, all headed toward their leader.

  One of the men loosened Boyd’s tie and another grabbed his limp wrist, apparently feeling for a pulse. The open Bible lay facedown on the stage, where it had fallen when he collapsed.

  Holy crap on a cracker. Don’t let it be, please don’t let it be…

  “Call an ambulance!” One of the men bending over the preacher raised his head, grasping at the shoulder of the man next to him. “Reverend Boyd needs an ambulance!”

  “Jimmy!” Tina’s shriek cut through the chaos as she made it up onto the stage. She shoved her way into the knot of people crouched over Boyd. “Oh no, Jimmy…Jimmy!” Collapsing on top of his motionless body, she sobbed as though her heart would break.

  And that’s when I knew. Sammy had helped me after all, but not in the way I’d hoped.

  Looking again toward the back of the room, I saw him staring at me. I heard his voice in my head, clear as a bell.

  “It seems your boyfriend was right, for once,” he said. “Your efforts to do good in the world actually could make things worse.” And then he turned and walked out the door.

  Jimmy Boyd would never molest anyone again.

  But now I had to live with his death on my conscience.

  CHAPTER 26

  “It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault.”

  No matter how many times I repeated those words to myself, they weren’t sinking in. I sat in my car in the parking lot of Hearts on Fire Tabernacle until the paramedics left, hoping against hope to see them working on Jimmy Boyd when they’d come out with the gurney. But the figure on the stretcher had been motionless, completely covered with a sheet, and there’d been no urgency in the way they loaded him into the back of the ambulance.

  Knots of people stood around the parking lot, shell-shocked and sobbing. I could see Tina and Amber sitting on the ground under a tree with a group of women, two of whom kept their arms around Tina’s shaking shoulders. Amber Marie was crying, too, shooting worried looks at her mother as she was patted and hugged.

  “She’s safe now,” I said, though there was no one there to hear me. “Amber’s safe.” As much as I wanted to take comfort from that, the afternoon’s events had left me shell-shocked, too.

  On autopilot, I started the car and pulled away, not wanting anything more to do with this place or the people in it. Going back to work was out of the question, and I didn’t want to go home, so I drove straight to Joe’s apartment. I needed to feel somebody’s arms around me almost as much as Tina and Amber did.

  His Beemer was in its usual spot, but he didn’t answer my knock, so I let myself in, making a mental note to do as I’d promised and get him a key made to my house.

  “Joe?” His gym bag was on the floor next to the dining-room table, but the living room and kitchen area were empty.

  I put my purse down and stuck my head in the hall that led to his bedroom.

  The bathroom door was closed, and I could hear the shower running. With a shrug, I went toward the kitchen instead, hoping there was wine. I’d pour us both a glass and be waiting for him when he came out.

  A few minutes later, I was sitting on the couch with a glass, staring out the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony. A breeze was moving in the trees, white clouds scudding against a blue sky—a perfectly normal day in a perfectly normal world.

  Except it wasn’t a normal day. I’d just seen someone die, right before my eyes.

  The bathroom door opened. Not wanting to startle him, I turned my head toward the hallway, and called, “Hey, baby, it’s me. I opened a bottle of wine.”

  When he didn’t answer, I started to get up.

  “Joe went for a run, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

  Lisa Butler walked around the corner into the living room, wearing nothing but a couple of towels—one on her head, and one wrapped around her body. The look on her face could only be described as smug.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I stood up so fast I spilled my wine, but I could care less. Slapping the glass down on the coffee table, I faced her, so furious I could barely see straight.

  She shrugged. “I’m taking a shower. Isn’t it obvious?”

  Oh, it was obvious, all right.

  “I’m so sorry you had to find out this way,” she smirked. “I told him he should be honest with you—a clean break is always best, don’t you agree?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to call her every foul name I could think of, and then some, but I didn’t. I forced myself to stop, to think, to consider—rushing off half-cocked had already gotten me into serious trouble once today.

  “Where are your clothes?” I asked, as calmly as I possibly could.

  She blinked, just once, which told me my reaction was not what she expected. A quick flick of her eyes toward the hallway had me heading in that direction.

  She moved, too, but I cut her off, getting there before she did. Without another word, I stalked down the hall toward Joe’s bedroom.

 
His bed was neatly made. The door to the bathroom was open, and I could see a pile of clothes on the rug. Lisa’s clothes. A pair of panties lay on top, as if they were the last thing she’d taken off. The mirror was steamed up, the shower curtain drawn back. Her purse was sitting on the closed toilet.

  Joe wasn’t here, and if they’d just made hot monkey love in his bed, I doubted he’d have taken the time to make it before going out to jog. None of which explained what she was doing there to begin with, but I had enough to go on for now.

  I bent, snatching up the clothes along with the pair of tennis shoes that lay beside them.

  “Hey,” she said, “leave my stuff alone.”

  The look I gave her had her backing up, moving out of my way as I walked out of the bathroom toward the front door, carrying her clothes, purse, and shoes with me.

  “Hey,” she said, more forcefully, trying to snatch them. “Give those back.”

  I shrugged her off, reaching the front door in three seconds flat. She was at a disadvantage, having only one hand free, the other still clutching the towel.

  Opening the door, I tossed her things out on the landing. “You want them?” I gave her a thin smile, very tight-lipped. “Go get them.”

  Her gasp of rage warmed my heart. She eyed me, eyed the clothes, then ducked past me to pick them up. I waited a couple of seconds, long enough for her to bend over and get her shoes.

  “One more thing,” I said. “That’s Joe’s towel.” I grabbed it, just below the point where she was clutching her clothes to her chest, and yanked it off—there was nothing she could do to stop me.

  I slammed the door in her face and locked it, memorizing the look on her face. Sweet dreams are made of this, baby.

  Still furious, but hugely proud of myself, I walked back over and sat down on the couch to wait for Joe.

  “And that’s it? You believe me?”

  It had been forty-five long minutes before Joe had unlocked the door and walked back into his apartment, and I’d had plenty of time to think. He was sweaty and tired, obviously having been out running, just as Lisa had said.

  “Yep. I believe you.”

  He eyed me like my nose was about to grow like Pinocchio’s or something, but that was okay.

  I took another sip of my wine and smiled at him over the glass.

  “I couldn’t believe it when she showed up here,” he said, still anxious. “I didn’t even know she knew where I lived. Must’ve gotten it from the hospital records.”

  Nodding, I answered, “Probably.”

  He kept going, giving me a worried look. “I wouldn’t even have let her in, but she kept going on about needing to apologize, and before I knew it, she was in the living room.”

  “Huh.”

  “I tried to get her to leave, but short of shoving her out the door, I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to actually touch her—she had kind of a crazy look in her eye.”

  I was listening attentively, even though I’d heard it all once before, right after he came in.

  “Kinda like the look you’ve got right now,” he said cautiously.

  I giggled, feeling a little crazy, at that.

  “Finally, I told her that I was going for a run, and to let herself out. I took an extralong run, figuring she’d get tired of waiting. If she’d still been here when I got back, I was going to call the police. Are you okay?”

  With a sigh, I put down my glass and picked up his hand. “I’m okay. Really.” It felt so good in mine. “Really, really okay.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  I laughed, squeezing his fingers. “That’s usually my line.”

  Totally baffled now, he leaned back against the leather of the couch. “What’s going on? If I’d walked in and found a naked man in your house, I’d have punched first and asked questions later! How can you be so calm about this?”

  I looked at him, considering. His dark hair was damp with sweat, and so was the rest of him. He smelled like a locker room, and his Boston Red Sox T-shirt had a hole in it, right near the collar.

  “I love you,” I said, simply. “You told me you loved me, and I believe you. You told me you wouldn’t dump me, and I believe you. As much as I wanted to punch Lisa in her fat, naked mouth, I decided that—for once—I’d ‘look before I leapt,’ and so I looked.” I tilted my head, enjoying the stunned expression on his face. “I didn’t see anything to leap over, except the chance to toss her and her skanky ass out the front door.” Squeezing his hand again, I lay back against the couch. “Which is what I did.”

  Shaking his head, he started to laugh. “You are something else.”

  “Aren’t I, though?” I loved the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

  “What brought on this attack of common sense, anyway? No offense, but…”

  I sighed, giving him a rueful grin. “I know, I know—not my usual style, is it?”

  “I love your usual style,” he said, “but this one’s kind of nice, too.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it”—I closed my eyes for a second and forced myself to say the words—“I think I may be growing up. Kinda. Sorta. A little.”

  He rose, still smiling, and headed toward the kitchen. “Something happened today, didn’t it?”

  “What are you, a mind reader?”

  “I know you well enough to know when something’s up, Nick.” Opening the refrigerator, he reached in and pulled out a bottle of water. “Tell me.”

  Giving another sigh, deeper this time, I settled into the couch, tucking my legs beneath me. Where to begin? Morning seemed like a long time ago.

  “Crystal showed up again last night. I think she needs my help more than she wants to admit, and I—”

  “You wanted to help her,” Joe said, finishing the sentence for me. His tone was calm and matter-of-fact. He unscrewed the top on his water bottle and walked back into the living room, retaking his seat.

  “Yes.” No use dancing around it. “I looked up Jimmy Boyd’s church on the Internet, and I went there this afternoon to talk to him. I was going to tell him that I knew what he’d done to Crystal and how I knew it.”

  “You were going to admit you see spirits?” Joe raised his eyebrows as he gulped some water, knowing that telling people that kind of thing was one of my biggest no-no’s.

  I nodded. “I was going to tell him that I’d go public with what he did if he didn’t stay away from Amber Marie. You know—the direct approach, with a little blackmail worked in.”

  “And?”

  I’d expected Joe to get mad at that point; I’d gone off without him—again—to do something potentially stupid. “There was a church service going on.” If you could call that overblown spectacle a church service. “A revival or something.” I frowned, remembering. “It didn’t end well.”

  “Get to the point, Nicki.” He took another long slug of bottled water, no doubt knowing he was about to need it.

  “He died, right in front of me. Dropped dead, in the middle of the service. It was my fault.”

  Joe’s throat worked as he tried to swallow without choking.

  “Well, maybe it was Sammy’s fault. But it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone there to begin with.”

  Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath and let it out. “Sammy?” His voice was deceptively quiet.

  “He was there. I asked him to do the right thing—to help me keep Boyd away from Amber.” I was nervous now, like I was confessing secrets that maybe I shouldn’t confess. “Crystal showed up, and instead of possessing me, she possessed Boyd. I guess his heart couldn’t take it.” I paused, admitting the final truth. “That was how Sammy helped me.”

  “By striking somebody dead.” Joe’s voice was flat. He wasn’t looking at me, but at his bottle of water.

  I hesitated. “Yes.”

  He stood up, pacing around the coffee table as though he couldn’t sit still any longer. “What next?” he muttered, more to himself than me. “What the hell next?” He ran
a hand through his hair, a sure sign he was upset.

  “Well…” I stood up, too, putting a hand on his arm to stop him from pacing. “I’d say a restraining order against Lisa Butler would be a good idea. What she did today might work in your favor with the board of directors at the hospital, too. They need to know they’ve got a crazy stalker with the hots for one of their doctors on their hands. Do you have an appointment with an attorney yet?”

  “Monday,” he said, but his mind was obviously not on Lisa. “But how the hell do we get rid of Sammy?”

  I shook my head, remembering what Grandma Bijou had told me, months ago. “The Devil can’t be gotten rid of, Joe. He can only be overcome by what’s in your heart.” I reached up, cupping his face in my hands. “And my heart—defective as it is—is full of you.”

  He stared at me, green eyes piercing, as though he could see straight into my soul. Then he snatched me to him, holding me tight against his chest, burying his face in my hair.

  I held him just as tightly as he did me, not caring that he was sweaty and damp. If there had been a way to make the moment last forever, I would have, but instead I just tried to memorize the way he felt in my arms, the way he smelled, the salty tang of his sweat, and the lean feel of the muscles in his back.

  Nothing lasted forever, as I well knew; the best we could do was to enjoy the moment. Every moment.

  Finally, I pulled back and kissed him: once, twice, three times, lingering on the last one. “I have one more thing I need to do,” I said, “but you’re not going to like it.”

  He sighed, arms around my waist now, forehead against mine. “If I had a dollar for every time you’d said that to me…What is it?”

  “I have to go ask Sammy for one more favor.”

  Proving once and for all that I had the best boyfriend in the entire world, he answered, “I’ll go with you.”

  CHAPTER 27

  That night was the first time I’d set foot in Divinyls; the second time I’d been inside the building since my old friend Caprice, who ran the Jamaican grocery that used to be here, died on the steps outside.