Sparkle (37 page)

He felt a tugging at his sleeve and looked down. Lucy Silver was there, translucent as smoke. And smiling. Eddie looked at her and smiled back and things came into his head. He had gone to the Goodwill. He had been close, very close, to her killer. There was the smell, the tangy chemical smell that Eddie now realized was cheap aftershave. He’d smelled it before. He couldn’t put his finger on where, but his mind was working again, and he was getting stronger fast.

Mom, Jolie, and Lucy. One thing at a time. Messy situations. He had to clean them up. Finally, he was beginning to feel like he might be able to do it. He closed his eyes and made his intentions clear inside his head. He’d learned something important about his mom; something that would help him. Jolie was next. When he opened them Lucy was gone.

No one noticed Eddie leave his room. Jolie was close. Had Joe told him where she was? It didn’t matter. Eddie knew he could find her. But he didn’t have much time.

Bjorgeson got to the precinct, parked, and went straight to Louis’ desk.

“Joe’s freaking out.”

“Yeah. And it’s going to rain tomorrow. What else is new?” Louis looked tired and harassed, sitting in front of an intimidating looking stack of files and papers.

“I played him this. It’s the 911 on the Walker girl.”

Pinky hit play, and watched Louis’ face closely as it tightened and then sagged.

Louis rubbed his head, looking stunned. “And?”

“What do you think?”

“Holy shit.” All of a sudden Louis couldn’t think straight. It was Louis who’d put together the zoo connection between Jolie and Eddie, but he hadn’t yet heard the tape. He realized in all these years he hadn’t heard Eddie’s voice much, if at all. But Pinky was on to something strong.

“Where’d it come from?”

“Phone booth. Right between the girl’s house and Joe and Eddie’s house.”

“Shit. What did Joe say?”

“Let’s just say he’s a bad fucking liar.”

It was classic and sickeningly familiar. Guys like Joe and Eddie— former victims—usually ended up dishing it out to someone else sooner or later.

But not Eddie. It was maddening. And perplexing. Eddie had always been as gentle as a lamb.

“Well there’s something not right here,” Louis said. “Even if Eddie went nuts, I’ve heard Joe say like 20 times how he can’t stand sudden noises. Why the hell would he use a gun?”

“Jesus, George. He totally fucking ripped her place apart. What do you want?”

“Oh, fuck,” Louis practically moaned, trying to wrap his head around what suddenly looked like a cut and dried case.

“You get any results on that scrap Eddie found at the Red Lotus?”

Louis wasn’t sure if Pinky was changing the subject to be nice or to rub it in deeper.

Louis stood up and wrestled on his coat. “It’s worthless,” he said, sounding irritated. “Got a couple of fibers on it, but it’s too small. All they could say is it was from the Goodwill. And the date.

“When was it?”

“The 14
^th
.”

“Day of the Silver murders.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Dunno. Coincidence.”

“Well, it’s crap. Too many people handled it. Eddie touched it—fuck, you handled it—”

“Oh, fuck off. What about the blood?”

“No results yet.” Louis looked Bjorgeson right in the eye the way he did when he knew he’d been bested by his subordinate. “I’m not expecting anything from it. Okay? I think the 911’s enough to get a warrant on Eddie for the Walker thing. When Eddie wakes up, we’ll go for a voice match. And it’s probably way too late, but we might as well check out that pay phone, get prints and see if anyone saw anything.”

“Yeah. Like we need that much frosting? Eddie’s the guy.”

Louis pushed in his chair roughly. “I’m going to the hospital,” he said.

Pinky allowed herself a face stretching grin once Louis was out of sight. Louis may have been the boss, but there was no doubt about who was really in control. No contest when it came to real talent. For the sake of appearances, Bjorgeson had been willing to hide it for a long time. But when it came to murder, Louis let his feelings get in the way—and most of the time he couldn’t see the truth even when it was right under his nose.

Mark stood beside Jolie’s bed, nervously glancing up at the door and back down at her. No one’s around. Hurry. It’ll only take a couple of minutes. He pulled on rubber gloves.

Keep one eye on his watch and the other on the door. If it didn’t work the first time, he could always come back. He wished he knew of a good way to tell when someone really was brain dead.

This was crazy. But it had to be done.

Mark moved his hand toward Jolie’s neck. He’d have to make sure to be gentle enough to not leave a mark. A mark. A Mark. His emotions shifted suddenly, and he felt a powerful sense of outrage build inside of him. Something he’d never felt before, not this strong. All this is Eddie’s fault. Sure, it was partly Jolie’s fault, but mostly it was the Eddie. Maybe after he’d finished what he had to do with Jolie—in a day or two, to avoid suspicion—he’d make a visit to Eddie. Then maybe he’d finish himself off. No, wait, with Jolie gone there would be no need to to that. It was all so fucking messed up.

As Mark’s hand gently pressed into Jolie’s neck, seeking out the soft pulsing spot, he looked up.

Eddie was standing in the doorway.

“Shit!” Mark pulled his hand away as though it had been burned.

Eddie walked into the room and stood on the other side of Jolie’s bed, facing Mark.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?” Mark said in a loud whisper.

Eddie took a deep breath. Jolie was in danger. He reached down and, hesitating for only a second, took Jolie’s hand.

A wonderful and surprisingly ordinary feeling flowed through him. The touch was warm and solid. He could feel her. She was strong. He could feel the pulse of life repairing itself in her. His own rhythm changed slightly to match it, encourage it. His dizziness subsided, and his physical strength began flowing back. He raised his eyes and forced himself to look Mark straight in the face. He thought it would be painfully hard, but it wasn’t.

“I’ve got news for you, Eddie,” Mark said quietly. “This whole thing is your mess. You’d better get out of this room before I call security.”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” Eddie’s eyes stayed on Mark’s glittering blue orbs. He was pleased to find that it wasn’t that hard. “Call them.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. He glared at Eddie. “I have to get to work,” he finally said. “This isn’t over.” He looked down at Jolie’s bruised face and walked quickly out of the room, stopping at the door for a moment to look down the hall.

Eddie heard the stairwell door open and close. Mark was gone. He stood quietly, looking down at Jolie, feeling their connection. It was strong and steady.

He hadn’t trusted her, or himself. When he went into her house to clean, he’d assumed she was dead. It was a huge, bad mistake. It had not occurred to him she might still be alive. If he’d been quieter, more patient, more trusting. If he hadn’t let his conscious noisy fear take control, he surely would have realized the simple truth behind Jolie’s spirit not being there when he went in to clean.

He’d never make that mistake again.

As Eddie felt his connection to Jolie deepen, the pounding in his chest grew and grew, until it felt as though he might burst.

Just let go.

Waves of nausea spread over him. His knees became so weak that he had to kneel beside the bed.

Just let go. Eddie’s heart swelled and rose into his throat. His mom. Her spirit. Just let go.

He looked down at Jolie’s hand. He had a choice. He knew what had happened to his mother. What his father had done was horrible, but Eddie had made it worse by holding his mother’s spirit hostage for so long. By holding himself hostage.

It was time to let his mom go.

Eddie knew how to set souls free. He closed his eyes and sat in the chair next to Jolie’s bed. He felt himself sink down deep inside, then deeper—deeper than he had ever gone. He put everything he had into willing himself to trust, open, and surrender.

“Just let go.”

It happened so quickly, he hardly felt it. Eddie’s heart emptied out as his mother’s spirit left his body. He barely saw the faint blue spark as it left his chest. The sensation was one of overwhelming relief. Eddie closed his eyes and rested his head on his arms on Jolie’s bed.

A lovely gold light hovered over him and Jolie.

Then the sun hit Jolie’s window, and the gold evaporated as the room was flushed with cool, ordinary morning light.

Eddie opened his eyes. He was overcome by the urge to look at himself. He thought he might be smiling. His body felt light. His chest felt open and new.

He looked up toward the ceiling. There was nothing to see. His mom had gone out of him, out of the room. She had waited a long time for this moment. It was better, though. She felt somehow closer than she had before. Eddie could remember her now, without that nagging painful feeling that there was something he was forgetting, some wrong he couldn’t make right. When his mom was locked inside him, she was always just out of reach. Now she was free, and Eddie was free, too, of something that had weighted him down for nearly his whole life.

Then again, her death had revealed his special gift for seeing souls. Asking her to stay with him had been the first time he had used the gift.

Eddie stood up and went into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror. A man was there. He’d never seen himself like that before. He touched his face, studying it carefully. He was smiling, ever so slightly.

He walked back into the room, couldn’t wait for Jolie to wake up and see him this way. He reached out gingerly and touched her hand again. He suddenly believed that she would be okay, and that she would forgive him for breaking his promise never to come back to her house. He would find a way to explain to her that it was because he was afraid for her. He felt the tiny place of skin where his fingers brushed her hand, and it did not feel bad at all. Was it so easy because she was unconscious, or was it something else? He bent down slightly, picked up her small strong hand, and brought it close to his face. He smelled her skin, and spoke to her closed, bruised eyes.

“You never know,” he said, gently placing her hand back by her side. “You never know.”

In Eddie’s head, the Sparkle music started to play, soft and sweet. He realized he was thirsty.

And that he still had a lot to do.

Then he felt a small hand slide into his other hand.

Chapter 54

Joe squealed to a stop in the hospital turnaround. He hopped out and dashed into the building, ignoring the fact that he was in a tow-away zone.

He was in too much of a hurry to wait for the elevator. Why the hell was Eddie doing with a gun? He took the stairs up to Eddie’s room as fast as he could manage. Every step sent pain pulsing through his neck and his already pounding head.

He was gasping by the time he got to the room. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Eddie was gone. It was like the worst joke ever told. Joe might even have laughed, if he could have caught his breath.

He staggered to the floor receptionist. “Excuse m-m-me,” he stammered, trying not to pant.

The receptionist barely saw him. “Can you wait one minute, sir?”

“No, damn it!”

The receptionist looked up at him, and then over at the nurse.

Joe fought to compose himself. “I n-n-need to find my brother. He’s not in his room—and he should be.”

“What’s his room number?”

“It’s 337.”

The nurse looked down at her patient roster and furrowed her brows. “Eddie Jones? That’s odd. Looks like he’s scheduled for a brain scan. But that’s not until ten.” She grabbed a clipboard off a hook and flipped through the papers on it.

Joe barely kept himself from screaming.

Five minutes later he and a nurse stood in heated conversation in front of Eddie’s room. Down the hall at the nurses’ station, the phone rang. The receptionist picked it up.

“Oh, no,” she said, standing up. “Excuse me,” she called out. “Mr. Jones!” When Joe hurried over, she went on, clearly upset, “One of the security guards saw a guy in a robe who looked like your brother get in a cab and drive off.”

Joe ran for the stairs. He got to the hospital turnaround seconds before the tow truck could back into position to tow his van.

“Screw y-y-you!” he yelled at the truck driver as he drove off.

That, at least, felt good.

One minute later, as the still-cursing tow truck driver was pulling out to leave, Detective Louis pulled up and parked his Crown Victoria in the same tow-away zone. He got out and walked into the hospital, looking worried.

Eddie got out of the cab in front of his house. It was comforting to be home again, but he wasn’t staying. The cab waited as he calmly walked inside.

A few minutes later he came out, fully dressed and carrying his bag. He got into the cab and it drove off.

Joe pulled up in front of the house and ran inside, tripping on the porch and almost banging his head on the door. He sprinted down the stairs to the basement. Eddie’s bag was gone. In its place were a neatly folded hospital robe and gown. Joe grabbed them off the couch and threw them in a heap on the floor.

Eddie had a gun.

Chapter 55

Eddie sat quietly in the cab, his Mariners bag in his lap. All he had to do was ride in the cab for a little while. Then what? Stay open and do what came naturally. Just let go. He unzipped his bag and noticed the little gun inside. It sent a brief but unpleasant pang through his still-rising confidence. He would be glad to be rid of it.

He reached into the bag, carefully avoiding touching the baggy with the gun, and pulled out a can of Sparkle. It wasn’t a bottle, but it would do. Eddie popped the top and sipped appreciatively, looking out the window. He was thirsty. He started counting cars and reducing license plates as the Sparkle music played softly in his head. It sounded especially nice, as though he hadn’t heard it in a long time.

As Eddie finished the can, the cab pulled up to the zoo parking lot. Perfect timing. The driver headed to the front gate, but Eddie stopped him a little ways away, where Joe always dropped him off.