Gatekeeper (9 page)

Crumbling bones lay amidst the remnants of a gray uniform. The same frock coat, the same gilt buttons, the same three stars on the collar.

Jillian’s knees went weak. Bile rose in her throat.

Standing at the top of the grave was the man himself, unseen by the others. He stared bleakly at the casket and then lifted his gaze to hers. Briefly, his regard moved to Lynn. Jillian’s followed. Lynn flashed a wide, red-lipped smile. “Amy’s going to be all right, now. You did a great job finding her.”

Jillian nodded and looked back toward the grave but Benton was gone. A shiver traveled up her spine. The sight of the skeleton in the grave left her with no doubt the man who had touched her, who had protected her, who had helped her find her sister, was dead and had been for nearly a hundred and fifty years.

A dark thought intruded into her mind.

How had the person who put Amy in that grave known about her association with Benton Smith?

* * * * *

Jillian dozed in the hospital recliner, her fingers entwined with Amy’s. A curious mixture of exhaustion and relief left her feeling heavy and stunned, but strangely, not tired. It was almost as if she’d been in a wreck.

Amy had been unconscious since they’d found her but despite some minor dehydration and mild hypothermia, she was going to be fine. Jillian shifted to pull the blanket the nurse had given her up to her neck and Amy’s hand tightened around hers.

Jillian bolted upright in the chair. “Amy?”

Amy’s eyes fluttered open. “Jill?” Her voice was muffled by an oxygen mask. Feebly, she pushed it away.

“Yeah, Aim. I’m here.” Joy surged in her heart.

“Boo?”

“Boo’s okay. I called your neighbor to come get her after we brought you to the hospital. I tried to sneak her here in my purse but they wouldn’t let her in. Said it was against regulations.”

Amy gave a weak chuckle but then her expression darkened.

Jillian knew she was recalling the horror of the grave. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

Amy’s hand gripped hers even harder. Jillian added, “Don’t think about it now. Try to rest.”

A solitary tear seeped out of the corner of Amy’s eyes and cut a trail to the white pillowslip. “I knew you’d find me.”

“It was a piece of cake.” That was the understatement of the century and Jillian’s sarcasm was evident in her voice.

“How…” Amy’s blue eyes frosted with realization and shimmered in the fluorescent light. “It was him, wasn’t it? The soldier.”

Jillian nodded. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude surged inside her. She never could have faced the soul collectors or the graveyard ghosts without Benton. She never would have found her sister alive without his help. Her lips pulled into a smile and she became acutely aware of the button pressed against her thigh.

Now it was time to tell him goodbye. To let him go. She had promised to help him find the Light once Amy was safe. Only Amy could do that.

A sense of sadness seeped into her heart and squeezed tight. She would never see him again. Never look into those deep gray eyes or feel the unyielding energy of his presence again.

Still, she’d made a promise. She withdrew the button from her pocket and put it in Amy’s hand. “I think he wants you to have this.” Something hard tugged at her heart as she relinquished the button. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and allowed her psychology education to rush to the forefront as the analytical voice of reason. This ridiculous attraction to him was due to traumatic circumstances. Nothing more. For Pete’s sake, the man was dead. He was a ghost.

So why did she regret giving up the button so much?

Jillian sighed. “Will you thank him for me when you see him?”

Amy stared. “I can’t imagine you communing with a spirit.”

“We did not
commune
.” Jillian smoothed back her hair with her palm. “He helped me to…to open up psychically so that I could find you.”

Amy gave her a knowing smile. “Could you see him?”

Jillian gave her a reluctant nod.

“He’s handsome isn’t he?”

This conversation was getting uncomfortable. Jillian made a face. She didn’t want to talk about the ghost anymore. She wanted to make good on her promise to let Amy send him into the Light.

“Come on, Jill. Admit it. He’s handsome.”

“I suppose he
was
handsome—a hundred and fifty years ago.” But that was a lie. She’d found him devastatingly attractive.

Amy shook her head. “You’re just too practical. Spirits are fun.”

“Amy, this experience has been anything but fun. I’m glad it’s over. I don’t see how you can stand them…
touching
you.” She got the willies. “Send him to the Light. That’s what he wants.”

Amy’s lips parted. “What? He
touched
you?”

Oh no. Now she’d stepped in it. Jillian inhaled sharply.

“Tell me, Jill.”

Jillian shook her head vehemently. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Amy laughed. It was a sound that made Jillian smile in spite of herself. “I think you two did more than
commune
,” Amy said as she nodded her head.

Jillian crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s enough. I braved my worst fear to find you. You can stop with the sisterly ribbing now.”

“But Jillian, Benton is
your
Gatekeeper. He’ll protect you. You should keep this with you. I don’t think he’s ready to go into the Light—yet.”

Gatekeeper…

She inhaled at the memory of her dream.
Gatekeeper.

Her body heated when she recalled how it had felt to come with her legs wrapped around his tight body. She caught herself and forced the memories away. This was crazy. She wasn’t one of Amy’s desperate clients who wanted to connect with the great beyond.

“No, Amy. I made a promise to him that if he helped me, I would help him. He told me he wanted to go to the Light and you’re the only person I know who can send him.”

Amy gave her a weak smile.

The door swung open and a nurse blustered in. “Oh, Miss Drew. You’re lookin’ all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. How you feelin’?”

“Tired.”

“Well that’s good, sweetie. You’re supposed to be tired,” the nurse said and offered her a tiny paper pill cup. “The doctor ordered something to help you rest.”

Jillian helped Amy sit enough to down the pill, avoiding looking at Amy’s broken, jagged nails where she’d tried to dig out of the coffin. Amy chased it with some water and then Jillian lowered her gently back to the pillow.

“Honey, you can go on home now. What we gave your sister is gonna knock her out for the night. That officer outside the door says he’s gonna stand guard.”

“But—”

“I’ll be fine, Jillian. Really. You look beat. Go home. Get some sleep.”

Exhaustion had finally caught up with her and now she was bone tired. The idea of getting out of her muddy, damp clothes and sinking up to her neck in a steaming hot bath was more than appealing.

She leaned over to give Amy a quick kiss on the forehead but Amy pulled her into a tight hug.

A little sob tore from Jillian’s throat at the sudden display of affection. But it was more than that. “Tell Benton I’ll miss him.”

* * * * *

Her Manolo Blahnik pumps were ruined. “Oh well,” Jillian said as she reluctantly tossed them in the waste can. Expensive shoes could easily be replaced.

The soggy Chanel sweater lay in a blue pile at her bare feet. Maybe the dry cleaners could salvage it but she doubted it. She slipped off her taupe trousers and held them up. Wrecked. Totally. Besides being waterlogged with rain, a nasty grass stain marred one knee. Another dark stain saturated the back of the right leg. But it wasn’t mud. Jillian peered closer.

It was blood.
Her blood.

She dropped the pants to the floor and propped her foot on the side of the tub. Three vicious, deep claw marks etched an ugly red path down her calf. She hadn’t noticed the wound in the mêlée but now it stung painfully.

Sirius hopped up on the edge of the tub and batted at the running water but Jillian knew what he really wanted was a good rubbing behind the ears. He purred at her touch but his contentment was short lived. His green-eyed stare darted to something Jillian could not see. Hissing and fur flying, he darted off the tub and out of the bathroom.

“Goofy cat, it’s just the storm.” Thunder and lightning raged outside but Jillian wasn’t about to let anything come between her and a hot bath.

She shucked off her bra and let it fall to the floor, intent on stepping into the tub, but her gaze caught something in the mirror—a fleeting glimpse of a shadow behind her. With a gasp, she whirled around.

No one.

Her heart thudded against her rib cage. She’d been so certain. Still the hairs on her arm rose with a static charge. Had one of those graveyard ghouls followed her home? She shuddered at the thought. Maybe she’d given up that button too soon. “Is anyone there?” she asked, very aware she was wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy purple panties and no bra.

Instinctively, she covered her breasts with her hands. “What do you want?”

But no answer came to her, psychically or otherwise.

This was crazy. She was spooked. That was all. And with good reason. In one day, she had spoken to and been touched by a ghost, attacked by evil shadow beings, pursued by revenant souls in a graveyard and found her sister buried alive by some mad man who was still out there. It was perfectly reasonable for her to be skittish.

But even given that, right now, she was too exhausted to give it any more thought.

She balled her dark hair up with a Scrunchie, peeled off her panties and stepped into the steaming bathwater. The heat felt good. Really good. Sliding down until the water touched the hair at the nape of her neck, she closed her eyes and tried to relax but her mind wouldn’t be quiet. Events of the day played through her thoughts over and over. Who had kidnapped Amy? And for what purpose? And what did Benton Smith and that button have to do with it?

Benton Smith.

His face drifted to the forefront of her thoughts. Strong. Handsome. Dashing. That was the word.
Dashing.
A wistful smile pulled at her lips.

It was too bad she hadn’t known him when he was alive. Jillian’s body tightened with remembrance. In the dream, he’d been so…
perfect
.

Her pussy clenched and her hand crept down to where she found herself wet and ready.

Thunder suddenly boomed and lightning struck so close to her house it shook the foundation and knocked out the power, leaving her ensconced in total darkness. Jillian gasped. A split second passed before she realized what had happened. Her heart rate slowly returned to normal as she fumbled for her towel, cursing because she had a dozen candles surrounding the tub and not one match.

She pulled the plug with her toe and climbed out of the tub. Wrapping up in a thirsty white towel, she picked her way through the clothes on the floor to the bedroom. The house was eerily quiet except for the fury of the rain, wind and thunder rattling the windowpanes. There was no hum of electric sounds to comfort her and since Sirius had bolted, not even her cat to keep her company. “Kitty, kitty,” she called, to no avail.

She was about to check under the bed when lightning struck again, illuminating the room in a quick flash of dazzling White Light. But as the room descended once more into murky shadows, Jillian saw it once more—a dark figure looming near the doorway.

She froze.

Chapter Six

The sight of the unexpected visitor nearly caused her to lose her towel but she managed to hang on to it so it concealed all the right places.

“Who are you?” This time it was not a request. Blood raced through her veins.

Damn this darkness.

The sound of footsteps thudded on the wood floor. Whoever it was, he was coming closer. Jillian shrank back against the footboard of the bed. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. Her pulse throbbed in her ears.

Lightning flashed again, illuminating the figure only inches away. This time, in the flare of light, she saw his face.

Benton.

Her heart soared. She blew out the breath she had been holding. “You scared the life out of me!”

Somewhere inside lurked a feeling she couldn’t identify. At first she thought it was relief but it was more than that. It was as if she knew that as long as Benton was near she was safe, protected—and something else, something she had never known before, something for which she had no name. The feeling evoked a new sense of panic that had nothing to do with the fact he was a ghost. She flushed.

His gaze drifted from her to the cat, who crouched under the corner of the bed, staring wild-eyed. Although Sirius made a mad dash for the door, Jillian never took her eyes off Benton. What had brought him back here? “I don’t understand,” she said. “I gave the button to Amy.”

The hint of a smile curled at the corner of his mouth. “And she put it back in your pocket.” Lazily, his gaze slid into hers once more, only leaving her eyes to drop to her lips and then lower to where the towel strained to conceal the fullness of her breasts.