Ghost of a Chance (12 page)

“Apparently we have to wait for the two
men,” Dad said.

“Dammit,” Adam said. He got up and started
after Savannah. “They’d better not be doing anything to harm the
house, or there
will
be hell to pay.”

“I don’t want to miss this,” my father said,
leaping up to follow Adam. Pixie sighed, tucked away her iPod, and
ran to the stairs leading to the basement.

I grabbed the back of my father’s shirt just
before he reached the stairs, and whispered in his ear, “I want to
have a couple of words with you.”

“About what?” he asked, still not meeting my
eyes. He fairly twitched at being in my grip. I released him,
frowning.

“What’s wrong with you? What have you been
up to?”

“Why do I have to be up to anything?” he
asked, straightening his shirt with exaggerated care.

“Because you’re nervous as a scalded toad.
You can’t stand still, your eyes are shifty, and you were apporting
earlier when you came into the room. What were you doing when I
came downstairs?”

“You are not the police. I do not have to
answer your questions,” my father said, tossing his head and
inching toward the top stair.

I grabbed his arm to keep him from
continuing. “No, but Adam is, and he’s suspicious enough from me
telling him you’re up to mischief.”

“I have better things to do than submit to
your inquisition.” He yanked his arm from my grasp and hurried down
the stairs to the basement.

I was right behind him. “That’s only part of
what I wanted to talk to you about. Spider said something earlier
that I think is important.”

“Spider did?” He stopped so quickly, I ran
into his back.

“Yes. Did you know he was having sex with
Bethany?”

The horrified expression on my father’s face
said it all.

I nodded. “I think the police would like to
know about that.”

Dad swore in Poltern, the half-knocking,
half-clicking poltergeist language that was so often mistaken by
mortals as spirit rapping.

“I agree one hundred percent, Dad. But… do
you think we should leave it for the mundane police? We could bring
in the watch, since it involved Bethany, and you know as well as I
do that the watch would take a much sterner view of the situation,
since they have fewer legal issues to work through. If we could let
Adam deal with the situation, it might be quicker and easier.”

“We won’t have to wait for Adam or the rest
of the watch. Your uncle will geld Spider,” Dad whispered as we
stepped into a dimly lit long L-shaped room.

“He’ll have to get in line. I plan on doing
a little neutering myself,” I said, the need to see justice done
leaving an acid taste in my mouth.

“Meredith? What on earth are you doing down
here?” Ahead of us Savannah stood with hands on hips as she peered
around the cluttered basement. Two naked bulbs dangled from the
ceiling, casting not very much light on the area. The basement
seemed to be filled with the detritus of the house’s lifetime: a
modern washer and dryer were next to the door, but beyond them I
could see an old-fashioned washer and wring board, a winepress,
several broken wooden chairs, wooden crates stacked to the ceiling,
lawn equipment, and assorted large bulky bits of furniture.

My father nodded toward a rusty scythe that
was held against the wall by a stack of boxes bearing bricks, old
weight-lifting equipment, and several iron fireplace implements.
“Just the thing for a neutering.”

“Tempting,” I whispered back to him. “I
think we should tell Adam what Spider was doing with Bethany, and
let the watch deal with the whole thing.”

Dad shook his head. “I’m not sure it would
do any good. Adam seems a bit preoccupied with his own problems.
Besides which, would he see sex with a minor polter as just cause
to tackle a mortal? It’s difficult enough for the Akashic League to
punish one of them; perhaps he wouldn’t want to get involved in
that.”

“They will take on mortals if the situation
warrants their intervention, and I definitely think this does,” I
said quietly, my heart filled with so much anguish I wanted to sit
down and sob. “Adam’s going to be our only hope. We have to make
him understand what happened, so he can see that justice is
done.”

“I don’t think there will be any problem in
finding people who have a score to settle with Spider,” Dad replied
as he trailed after me.

Ahead of us, Adam, Savannah, and Pixie
paused, looking around the room. There was no one else to be
seen.

“I like this basement,” Pixie said,
examining a large stuffed vulture that lurched drunkenly on a metal
seaman’s trunk. “There are some nice things here.”

“Are you sure they’re down here?” Savannah
asked Adam. “Maybe they slipped out the back way?”

“No one can enter or leave,” Adam answered,
his eyes narrowing as he pushed past a stack of boxes. “There’s a
door on the other side. If they broke it trying to get out…”

“Meredith?” Savannah picked her way around
miscellaneous boxes to the part of the room kitty-corner to us. “I
insist that you come out from wherever you’re hiding. Are you over
he—Oh, dear goddess! Nooo!”

There wasn’t much room to move in the
basement. Adam stopped next to a small rowboat that leaned against
the wall, his large body blocking the view. I hurried up behind
him, peering over his shoulder, gasping in surprise at the sight
before us.

Savannah was on her knees, pulling large
black bound books off the body of her husband, her sobs alternating
with a chantlike prayer.

“Good lord. Is he all right?” I asked,
squatting next to her when Adam moved to the other side. A huge
dark bookcase lay on the floor, propped up by a small mountain of
books. “Dad, use my cell phone to call an aid unit. Pixie, go
upstairs. Here, Savannah, let me help you…”

It took us only a few seconds to clear off
Meredith. Although the books themselves were heavy—they looked to
be an ancient set of encyclopedias—he hadn’t been struck with the
bookcase itself.

“Is he dead?” Pixie’s voice sounded
strained.

I shot a frown at her over my shoulder.
“This is no place for you. Go upstairs, please.”

“I’m
not
a
child
! Besides,
I’ve seen dead bodies before.”

“You
what
? When?”

She wore her inscrutable look. “I’ve seen a
lot of reality shows about homicides and stuff.”

“Thank the goddess, he’s alive,” Savannah
said, her voice choked as she wiped blood off her husband’s
face.

I pulled my attention from Pixie to the man
lying before us. “I’ve had some first aid training. Let me just
have a quick look at him so we can inform the paramedics of his
injuries.”

Meredith’s eyes opened at that point.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, his
face twisted in pain, as he raised a hand to his head. “Dammit,
what hit me?”

I lifted a volume of the encyclopedia.
“Belize to Byzantine, I think. Do you hurt anywhere other than your
head?”

“No. Stop fussing over me, woman,” he said,
pushing Savannah back as he sat up. She ignored him and continued
to wipe off his face as he snarled at the rest of us, “What the
hell happened? The last thing I remember is trying to open that
damned door, then someone walloped me on the head.”

My father hurried into the room. “Which
paramedics do I call? Mortal, or Otherworld? Will they be able to
get in with the house sealed?”

I sat on my heels, my fingers on Meredith’s
wrist as I eyed his head. There was a cut above his eyebrow that no
doubt was the cause of all the blood, but his pulse was strong and
steady. “Are you seeing double? Do you feel nauseous at all?”

“I’m fine, or I would be if everyone would
stop hovering around me. I have a hell of a headache is all.”

“Karma,” Adam said from where he squatted
next to the downed bookcase.

“Just a sec. I’m just making sure Meredith
is OK. Squeeze my hand,” I said, shoving my hand into his. He
squeezed it hard enough to cause me to wince. “I don’t think you
have a concussion, but you should probably see your doctor, anyway.
You may need a stitch or two in that cut on your forehead.”

“So I’m not calling the paramedics?” Dad
asked, looking from me to Meredith, who was getting to his feet
with the assistance of Savannah.

“Karma, come over here,” Adam said.

“Luckily, I don’t think there’s a need for
one,” I told my father, standing up and dusting my knees. The
basement wasn’t filthy, but the books were dusty enough to have my
nose wrinkling. I looked around that corner of the basement. The
door that Adam had mentioned was visible behind an old-fashioned
icebox, but it didn’t appear to have been opened in several
decades. “Where did Spider go?”

“I swear to god, I’m going to get a bullhorn
to make people listen to me,” Adam groused from the other side of
the room.

“Oh. Sorry,” I said, carefully stepping over
stacks of fallen encyclopedias to go to him. “What did you
want?”

“Does this look familiar?” he asked,
gesturing toward a mound of books.

A hand could be glimpsed amongst them, a
hand wearing a familiar gold watch. A chill swept down my spine as
I realized what it was I was looking at. “That’s… that’s Spider’s
watch.”

“Yes.” Adam’s icy blue eyes were unreadable.
He gently touched Spider’s wrist. “There’s no pulse. Your husband
is dead.”

Pixie’s gaze shifted from Spider’s hand to
me, her eyebrows upraised.

“The hell he is!” Meredith said, sitting
down abruptly in an old cane rocker.

Savannah gasped and wrung her hands.

“Thank god,” my father said softly.

I said nothing, just stared at the hand and
wondered how the world could change with just a few words.

A peculiar, distant sort of numbness set in
as I looked down at Spider. Pixie stood next to me, the picture of
silent unhappiness, her arms wrapped around herself. I wanted to
get her out of there, to shield her from the ugliness of Spider’s
death, but I seemed to be unable to stir myself.

My father and Adam had no problem in
hoisting the huge bookcase off Spider’s remains.

“That thing must weigh five hundred pounds,”
Meredith commented from his chair. Savannah, once she had
ascertained there was nothing to be done for Spider, had run
upstairs for some water to wash the blood from her husband’s face.
She knelt next to him now, dabbing at the cut on his forehead.

“They’re poltergeists,” I said absently.

“So?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” I gave him a quick wry
smile. “Polters can summon brief spurts of great strength if
needed. It’s sort of a racial trait.”

“The question is,” my father said in Poltern
as he lifted one end of the bookcase, “did it fall over itself, or
did he pull it down?”

I didn’t answer. The three of us who could
understand my father all glanced with speculation at Meredith,
however.

A handful of small pebbles fell from the
ceiling as Adam grunted with effort when he and my father shoved
the now upright bookcase against the wall.

“Apports?” Savannah asked as I gathered up
the tiny rocks. Half were white; half were grayish granite-colored,
flecked with silver. I looked around the room, depositing them in
an ugly urn that sat on a shelf next to antiquated kitchen
appliances. “I’m sorry; this probably isn’t the time to ask, but
can I—?”

“Sure.” I gave her the urn, hesitating at
the sight of the mound of books. Now that the heavy bookcase was
off it, parts of Spider were visible beneath the volumes.

“Oooh, these are pretty. I assume the
different colors come from different poltergeists?” Savannah asked,
having poured the apports into her hand.

I frowned. I really didn’t want to talk with
Savannah as if nothing momentous had just happened, but I knew that
people reacted differently to stress. Clearly she was in the
“distract yourself” camp when faced with a dead man. “Yes. My
father’s are the silver ones. Adam’s are white. Each are unique to
their owner.”

“Fascinating. I like the jade green ones. Do
you mind if I keep them for research purposes?”

“Go right ahead.” I steeled myself to
approach Spider’s body. I didn’t have the luxury of avoiding the
reality of the situation.

“Is he going to be all bloody and guts
spilling out and brains bashed in when you take the books off him?”
Pixie asked in a hushed voice.

Guilt spiked through the odd numbness that
held me in its grip. “Pixie, I’m sorry. This really isn’t something
you should see.” I gave her a little hug, gently escorting her to
the turning in the room. “Why don’t you go upstairs?”

“Are you kidding?” She pulled away from me,
giving me a look that questioned my sanity. “This is
great
!
I’ve never seen a dead body in person before! I’ve always wanted
to, and now you’re trying to
ruin
my life! You can’t make me
leave! I’ll tell Mrs. Beckett that you’re abusing me if you
do!”

“Now, that is one strange kid,” Meredith
said from the depths of a battered, paint-splattered leather
chair.

I just gawked at the teenager for a few
moments, then shook my head. “I can’t imagine how seeing my dead
husband is going to fulfill a life’s ambition, but if you’re truly
not horrified about what’s happened, I guess you can stay.”

“Why would I be horrified? It’s just like
the TV shows. Besides, your husband was mean. It’s like justice
that he got killed after he killed Sergei. It’s… karma.”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at me.

“So to speak,” she said with a tepid
smile.

I took a deep breath and knelt to pull books
off Spider’s body.

“Honey?” My father gently touched my
hair.

“I’m all right. Let’s just get these off
him. I know Adam checked for a pulse, but he may be barely alive or
something…”