The First Ghost (30 page)

Duncan’s face hardened. “You and your cop friend think you know so much, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Ken didn’t kill Ruth.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a hunting knife. “I did.”

He unfolded it carefully. The blade locked into place with a soft
snick
.

The memory struck me with a blinding flash. I could hear Ellie channeling Ruth’s last moments.
“I stole for him. I killed for him.”
Him.
Not
you
. She hadn’t been talking to her lover.

Duncan was between me and the phone. Following my eyes, he picked it up and smashed the receiver to the ground, stomping the bits that broke off. Then he ripped off the wall-mounted phone, hacking away at the cords tethering it.

I backed away, but before I could make a break for the front door, he circled, blocking my exit. He advanced, holding the knife underhanded like a street fighter. I ran for the back bedroom. He would kill me if he could catch me. I was almost to my room when his hand snagged my hair. My hand was on the doorknob. I had the door barely ajar when his weight took me down, knocking the air from my lungs. I was prone on the floor with him on top of me. My arms flailed in a wild panic. I caught him with an elbow and heard him grunt. Then his hands were in my hair again, pulling my head back, exposing my throat.

Billy barked madly. He flung himself against the cracked door and scrabbled at it with his paws.

Duncan’s hand was completely tangled in my hair. He slammed my face against the floor. My vision exploded with stars as the bridge of my nose connected with wood. Tears poured from my eyes, obscuring what little vision was left.

He had me down, but I was taller and stronger and I never stopped fighting. He held the knife at an awkward angle. We were mashed up against the right side wall, and Duncan seemed unable to get his arm loose. I slammed him to the right as hard as I could and heard something clatter along the floor. He had lost the knife.

My bucking and twisting again rolled him sideways, and we both grabbed for the knife at the same time. His hand closed on the blade first, but we were now face-to-face. I raked his eyes and face with my nails. He screamed, rolling away as my nails tore through his skin.

I was up and moving, half-crawling, trying to get to my feet. He was right there behind me and grabbed my ankle. I kicked at him as hard as I could.

The bedroom door was flung wide open by an unseen hand. Was this ghostly help? Duncan shrieked and released me. “Get him off me!”

Billy had sunk his teeth into Duncan’s leg. Snarling, Billy shook his head like he was savaging his Dingo.

My cellphone rang. I looked around, unable to pinpoint the sound. It was muffled. The couch. It was in the cushions somewhere.

I made it to my feet and flung pillows off the couch. A gleam of silver caught my eye. I grabbed, clicked and screamed into the receiver without checking the number. “He’s got a knife. It’s Duncan Werner. It’s Duncan Werner. He’s here!” I prayed it was Fierro.

I had trouble praying before, but at that moment it was easy to beg, to bargain with God for my life and the life of my dog. “Help me! Help me!”

Duncan hacked at Billy with the knife. Blood ran down Billy’s side. With a yelp, he let go. Duncan stood over him, panting.

I rushed Duncan from behind. He spun, knife still in hand, and flung me against the wall. His body pressed against me. I hung onto him, unable to let go, trying to pin his arms. The cell lay open on the floor where I had dropped it. I screamed again, hoping it wasn’t some telemarketer. In the close quarters, Duncan couldn’t get a good stab in. He caught the knife in my sweater, slicing it open. The knife grazed my side. The thin slice burned. He brought his arm back. I head-butted him. He stumbled back, and I brought up my knee as hard as I could. It made solid contact, and he screamed in agony as I drove his nuts up into his throat.

He crumpled, his face white. I drew back my foot and kicked him again. Hard. Duncan curled into a fetal position.

I kicked the knife away, panting. He struggled as if trying to raise himself up. I grabbed Mother’s pewter candlestick off the end table and clobbered him with it. I probably hit him more times than was necessary, but the bastard had tried to kill me.

Billy whimpered, a blessed sound. He tried to get to his feet. Equally welcome were the faint sirens in the distance growing closer.

I sat in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a blue blanket, my feet dangling, when Fierro pulled up. He screeched his car to a halt near the curb and jumped out, leaving it parked sideways on the street. I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me.

“You should go to the hospital,” the EMT insisted for the third time. “I’ve cleaned it and put a butterfly clip on it, but it needs sutures.”

The cut to my side was deeper than I’d thought. If Duncan hadn’t missed me through the baggy sweater, I could have been dead. The realization had begun to sink in, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Fierro ran his hand through his hair. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Is she okay?” he asked the EMT.

“She’s in shock. And she needs to go to the hospital to get a cut looked at. It isn’t life-threatening, but it needs attention. She’s being stubborn.”

“She can be that way.” He looked at me, his face hard. “I’ll take responsibility. I’ll see that she gets it looked at.”

“Okay.” The EMT shrugged. “I’ll get a refusal form.”

“Tamaguchi was using them both,” I said. “He was playing Duncan and Ruth against each other. They both killed for him.”

Fierro stepped closer, his face bathed in the flashing red glow of the vehicles. “I’m so sorry.” He reached up to touch my hair. I realized his anger wasn’t directed at me. His hand shook in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. “I never thought Werner would come here.”

I took his hand and pressed it to my cheek. “It’s okay. I’m all right.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I should have protected you. I am so sorry. I never warned you about Duncan. I thought he was involved, and I never told you. I should have watched your house.”

“Stop,” I said. “Look at me.” He opened his eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“Sign here.” The EMT shoved a clipboard under my nose. “It says that you refused transport.”

I released Fierro’s hand to sign the form and hopped off the ambulance. Okay, maybe
hopped off
isn’t accurate. Very gingerly, I settled my feet on the pavement.

“I need to check on my dog,” I said.

“The dog is okay,” the EMT insisted. “I checked him myself before sending him on.”

Fierro grinned. “You’re a vet too?”

“Hey, that little guy was a hero. He saved your friend here.”

“I’ll take that into account. Where is Billy?”

“One of the uniforms took him to an emergency clinic over on Spartan,” said the EMT.

“He wrote the name down for me,” I said. “I want to go there and see Billy for myself.”

“I’ll drive you,” Fierro said. “But only after you get that cut stitched.”

“Not to Our Lady. Ethan is working. I don’t feel like having that conversation right now.”

He grunted in understanding. “Yeah, there’s a night clinic over on the east side. I can drive you there.”

My knees shook, and for a moment I was lightheaded. He put an arm around my shoulder to stabilize me. “You sure you don’t want that ride in the ambulance?”

“Do you have any idea how much that would cost? I don’t have insurance.”

He nodded. “Point taken.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder and let him lead me to his car. “I’m glad it was you.”

“Hmm?”

“The phone.” I lifted my head up. “I had no idea who it was. I just screamed and hoped it was someone who would send help.”

“You scared me half to death with that, I hope you know. I was all the way downtown.” He smiled slightly. “I knew North Division would get here quickest. They said you scrambled Werner up good.”

I smiled a little myself. “Part of it was luck.”

“And part of it was grit too,” he said. “Very impressive for a secretary.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze and helped me into the passenger seat. I winced at the pain in my ribs as I settled into the bucket seat. The adrenaline had worn off, and I hurt, really hurt. Everywhere. My head, neck, shoulders, sides, legs. My nose was starting to throb. I hoped it wasn’t broken.

Fierro sat in the driver’s seat.

“I’m gonna need you to sign a complaint on Duncan in the morning. They’re booking him for Ruth’s murder, but I want him for trying to kill you, as well. And you are gonna have a dandy of a shiner tomorrow. Two of them. Is your nose broken?”

He reached out a finger to touch my nose, but I jerked it away. “Maybe. It hurts. He smashed my face on the floor.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Harry’s car was in front of the house. He’d leapt out of his seat and left the door hanging open. Standing in the middle of the street, he looked lost.

Fierro leaned his head out his window. “Over here. Your sister is okay.”

Harry rushed around to my side. My window sunk down with a hiss. “Portia? What happened? What’s going on? There are cops in the house.”

“Yeah, um…” I had no idea what to say. I’m such a crappy liar. “Remember I said that there was bad stuff going on at that office I worked at? Well, it was really bad. Homicidally bad,” I added. “My boss tried to kill me just now.”

“Wow. Ginger doesn’t seem so bad anymore.”

“It’s complicated. It has to do with that girl who was murdered. He killed her, and he thought I was working with the cops and that I knew something.”

Violet moved the car out of the street, then she and Harry fussed over me as I struggled to explain. Then Mother and Walter arrived, and things truly became chaotic.

I was forced to get out of the car and explain myself repeatedly. Mother insisted on making a pot of tea once the crime-scene folks allowed us back in the house. I was going to the hospital and she was taking me. We would be going to Our Lady and her future-son-in-law-the-doctor would look at me and that was final, but first we would all have a nice cup of tea since it wasn’t an emergency. And then she was buying a mammoth-sized soup bone for Billy.

Fierro tugged my sleeve, and we stepped out onto the back porch. “Looks like you’re in good hands now.”

“Sorry about Mother. She gets bossy when she’s wired up.”

“She’s a mother. That’s her job. How about I go check on Billy for you?”

I threw my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t want to let go. He rested his cheek on my hair.

“Call me. He sounds okay, but I want to hear it from you.”

He promised and all too soon, the tea was gone and I was in the car with my mother.

* * * *

Mother was still in her salsa costume: a skintight black leotard with vibrant swirls of colored ruffles that draped artfully about the waist. She looked pretty hot for a woman her age. Her hair was a mass of curls, but they were the fat, sexy ones produced by judicious use of hot rollers. I was reminded of how young she had been to become the mother of twins.

“How could you?” she asked. “I warned you not to get involved in this sort of thing. You see what happens when you get so involved? Help them move along, but
never
try to sort out their problems for them.”

“You would rather I turn my back and let a killer like that walk around free?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s something I can do, Mother. I’ve made different choices from you.”

“Have you really?” Her mouth was set in a thin, hard line. “I worry. Receiving your ‘gift’ seems to have unsettled you. Losing your job and your apartment. Getting a dog. On the bright side, there’s your doctor.”

“He isn’t my doctor.”

“Well, not yet. But he will be. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. This one is a keeper. I realize the last thing you want is advice from your mother, but I like Ethan.”

I digested that for a moment. “When did you know Walter was the one?”

She didn’t react and I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “He was handsome and charming and...nice. I was at a point in my life where that was enough. He wasn’t bothered by my having kids. In fact, he doted on you two. Being with him was comfortable.” She sighed. “It’s a good thing people pair up when they’re young and attractive. I love Walter, but I’m not sure I would pick him out of a crowd now. Lord knows, I’ve got a few miles on me, as well. But the most wonderful thing about Walter is that he thinks I’m wonderful. If that makes any sense.”

I decided it did.

And that Mother probably thought I was thinking about Ethan.

* * * *

The emergency room was just like I remembered: cold linoleum, cracked vinyl chairs, overzealous fluorescent lighting, ghosts roaming the halls. “Look at them all,” Mother whispered.

“Shh.”

Careful not to acknowledge the hovering spirits, I approached the front desk to check in. It was an imposing U-shaped monstrosity in blue. The harried nurse handed me a clipboard before she even glanced up. When she did, her mouth fell open.

“Oh my God. Aren’t you Ethan’s girlfriend?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Her fingers were already on the intercom button. “Dr. Feller to check-in. Dr. Feller to check-in.” She stood. “Are you okay? Of course you aren’t. Look at your face.”

I hadn’t seen it yet, but I was betting from everyone’s reactions that I was quite attractive.

“Portia! Oh my God, what happened?” Ethan was justifiably freaked out. “Don’t we have an empty spot?” he asked the nurse.

“I think three checked out. We were--”

Oblivious to the dirty looks and gasps from the folks who had probably been waiting for hours, Ethan steered me by my elbow to a cubby and pulled the green curtain around us. Mother winked at me as he snapped it shut.

I tried to explain what had happened without scaring him to death, but it’s pretty hard to smooth over something like
my boss tried to kill me
.

He gently probed my side before pronouncing I did indeed need stitches. “You’ll heal a lot faster and with less scarring. I don’t like Dermabond for something like this, over the ribs. And you’ll need an X-ray on your nose.” He gently touched it.