The Ghoul Next Door (25 page)

“Sure.”

“And we’re both wearing vests,” I told him.

“Okay,” he said. I knew I’d get no argument there.

“What about Gil?”

“I checked on him fifteen minutes ago and he was sleeping like a baby under the vest. I think as long as he’s covered in magnets, he’ll be okay.”

“Good,” I said. “Let me take a really quick shower and we’ll go.”

Heath and I were in the car and headed to Stoughton Street just ten minutes later. When we got there, it was pretty obvious that the police had already had a run through the place. The front door was smeared with fingerprint dust and when we cupped our hands and peered through the glass window, we could see that much of the home had been emptied.

Heath stood back and looked at me. “How’s your radar for finding stuff?”

“Not great. Yours?”

“Not bad.”

I waved a hand at him, “After you, then.”

Heath stood back from the house and stared down at the ground. My own feelers could sense him flipping on his radar and searching the area for anything that might point to a murder weapon. He then lifted his chin and said, “This way.”

I followed him around back to the bedroom window. Heath walked right up to it and pulled up on the sill. It lifted with a bit of a creak. “You’re going in there?” I asked anxiously. Not only was it breaking and entering, but I was worried about Sy the Slayer making another attempt to get into Heath’s head. Even though he had his vest on, I still worried that he might be vulnerable.

“Yeah, I’m going in,” he said. “You coming?”

I bit my lip. I was normally a straight-as-an-arrow kind of girl, and breaking the law wasn’t something I was ever comfortable with. But this was a special circumstance. “I guess,” I muttered, moving over to the window.

Heath went in first and I followed. The room felt brighter and then I realized why—it’d been freshly painted.

As if we were both thinking the same thing, Heath and I moved to the closet and he opened it up. The interior gleamed with a fresh coat of white paint. “Shit,” he said.

“Do you think Eades knew the police were likely to visit?” I asked.

“If he’s in the loop about what goes on here, then, yeah, probably.”

“Do you think he has the murder weapon?” I asked next. “Or could he be the right-handed guy we’re looking for?”

Heath shook his head. “Don’t know, Em. He was a little gruff when we met him, but I don’t know that I got a killer vibe off him.”

“Me either,” I said with another sigh. I turned away from the closet and walked around the small bedroom. All Luke’s stuff had been removed, but the place still had a stifling quality to it.

“Where else should we look?” I said.

Heath didn’t answer, so I turned around only to find him still staring at the closet. “Heath?”

My sweetie bent down and ran his hand across the carpeted floor. I moved to peer over his shoulder. “What is it?” I asked.

“There’s something under here,” he said, and I realized he still had his radar turned on and was feeling out the place for any evidence left behind.

I bent down too and waited for him to figure out what he was picking up on. At last he reached into the far left corner and tugged on the edge of the carpet. It came up easily. “Would ya lookit that?” Heath whispered.

Under the carpet was a thin plank of wood that didn’t belong with the other planks. Heath fiddled with the edge of it to get it to lift up and there we saw a narrow well, the perfect place to hide a knife. Heath got out his cell and clicked it on to shine some light into the well. It was empty except for a few smudged rusty-looking spots along the side and at the bottom of the well.

I sucked in a breath. “Is that blood?”

“I’d lay odds that it is,” Heath said.

“So that’s where the murder weapon for at least one, if not all, of the murders has been hiding.”

“Yep.”

I put a hand on Heath’s shoulder. “Does your radar sense that it might still be here?”

“No,” Heath said. “I’m thinking this empty well was what I was supposed to find.”

I felt a cold shiver snake up my spine. “We find that knife, we find our killer.”

Heath replaced the thin plank of wood and pressed the carpet back into place. “What’re your thoughts about telling the police about it?”

I wavered with indecision. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe they already found it?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it, Em. I think they poked around in the closet, saw that it was empty, and moved on.”

“So what do you think? Should we call and tell them about that hiding spot? And the names on the back of the closet? And if we do, how do we tell them we know about it?”

Heath stood up and closed the door. “Let’s not call them yet,” he said. “It could make things even worse for Luke. For now let’s lie low and wait for Kendra to call.”

I looked down at my watch. It was almost four. “I wish she’d call already.”

“She probably got tied up with something. Come on, let’s head back to your place and chill out until we hear from her.”

We drove back to the condo in relative silence, both of us tense after being in the Stoughton Street house.

When we entered my condo, I found Gilley on my couch with Doc on his shoulder. “Hey, baby!” Doc called, adding a wolf whistle.

I couldn’t help but smile. Doc had this little birdie voice that was most similar to my voice at the age of eleven when he’d first come into my life. Sometimes he could imitate Gilley’s deeper voice and sometimes he used my adult voice, but for most new words he learned, he kept it in that sweet upper octave.

“Your phone’s been ringing off the hook,” Gil said moodily.

My brow furrowed and I took the cell out of my back pocket. “No, it hasn’t.”

Gil lifted the cell next to him high in the air. “Yes, it has. You took my phone and left me yours.”

I felt a jolt of alarm and clicked the phone in my hand to turn it on. Sure enough Michel’s photo greeted me. It was Gilley’s wallpaper. “Son of a bitch!” I yelled, stomping over to the couch. “I took the phone off the charger!”

“Which was my phone,” Gil said without a hint of apology. “I unplugged yours after it was charged and put mine on.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?” I snapped, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing his on the couch. I was so mad because I knew I’d likely missed Kendra’s call. “And why the hell didn’t you answer my phone when it rang and call me on yours if you knew I had it?”

“You had yours locked,” Gilley snapped back. “Jeez, M.J., it’s not my friggin’ fault!”

I knew I owed him an apology, but I was too wound up and anxious. I quickly unlocked my screen and saw that I had two voice mails from Kendra. I motioned for Heath to follow me out the door and listened to the first voice mail as we raced down the stairs. “Hey, M.J., it’s Kendra. I’m finally free. Let’s meet at four o’clock. The parking lot of the nursing home right across from the hospital. Man, do I have a great lead to tell you about!”

The voice mail ended and I swore several more times as Heath and I raced to the car. “She wanted to meet at four!” I growled as we got in, and Heath squealed the tires as he backed out of the space. “Damn Gilley!”

“It’s only quarter past,” Heath said. “We can be there in fifteen minutes.”

I called Kendra to tell her that we were on our way, but I got her voice mail. “Son of a . . . ,” I muttered while I waited to leave her a message. Finally it clicked over and I said, “Kendra, it’s M.J. I’m so sorry. Gilley had my phone and I didn’t realize you’d called. We’re on our way. We should be there by four thirty. Please call me if that’s an issue.”

I hung up and laid my head back against the seat rest, so frustrated that I’d missed her call. “Hey,” Heath said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “It’ll be okay, Em.”

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out nice and slow, trying to calm my nerves. Then I tapped the phone screen again and clicked on Kendra’s next voice mail. “Hey, M.J., not sure if you’re getting my messages. I’m gonna send you an e-mail just in case. Hope something gets through. Okay, call me back if you can.”

I switched from the voice mail over to e-mail and read Kendra’s message, which was essentially the same as what she’d already told me on the voice mail. “Leave it to her to be cryptic about this big lead of hers,” I muttered.

“Try calling her again,” Heath suggested.

I did and the line picked up, but I didn’t hear anyone say anything. “Hello?” I said. “Kendra?”

Something odd sounded in the background. It was a sort of wet gurgle. “Kendra?” I repeated, pulling the phone away to check the contact ID and make sure I’d dialed right. “Hello? Hello?”

I closed my eyes, trying to listen. It was the oddest thing—I could hear a sort of liquid bubbling, but not much else. Maybe some traffic in the background, but nothing intelligible. “Kendra?” I said loudly. “Can you hear me?”

“What’s going on?” Heath said.

I gripped the phone tightly. Alarm bells were starting to go off in my head, and I just
knew
Kendra was in trouble.
“Kendra!”

With two beeps the phone disconnected.

I dialed right back and waited with mounting panic as the phone just rang and rang, then finally went to voice mail. “Kendra! It’s M.J. If you’re in trouble, just hit the callback button!” I hung up the line and crossed my fingers. No calls came in. “She’s in trouble!” I said, turning to Heath.

“We’re almost there.” His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“How far?” I asked even as I turned my head right and left to see where we were.

“A few blocks,” he told me.

My knees bounced with anxiety. Should I call the police? Would we get to Kendra quicker? Was she even in the place she said to meet us? Maybe she was somewhere else and in trouble.

Heath pushed the accelerator and darted around other cars as he zoomed down the street. I had to grip the handle over my door to hold on while he made a very sharp right turn. The car jolted as it hit an uneven elevation and Heath screeched to a halt in the first available parking space. We jumped out of the car and looked frantically around. “That’s her car!” I yelled, pointing to the silver Honda across the parking lot. “Kendra!” I shouted, darting toward her car.

Heath came up right next to me and we ran stride for stride to the car. As we got within a few yards, however, I saw a smudge of bright red against the car door. “Oh, God!” I gasped, knowing it was blood.

Heath reached out and grabbed my arm, halting me. “Wait!” he said, looking around. “Just wait, Em!”

I pulled against his grip. “It’s hers!” I said, close to panic. “She’s hurt!”

Heath was looking all around and he moved with me to the car. He peered inside the vehicle and shook his head; then he looked to the right and left sides of it and shook his head again. “Where?” he said. “She’s not here, Em. . . .”

“Kendra!” I shouted. Some people coming out of the nursing home looked over at me, but I ignored them.
“Kendra!”

“Call her,” Heath said suddenly, pointing to my phone, which was still gripped tightly in my hand.

With shaking fingers I dialed and waited with a pounding heart for the line to pick up. It started ringing on my end and I took it away from my ear. Listening close, I thought I heard something coming from a few cars away.

Heath heard it too, because he took me by the elbow and we edged down the line of cars, the ringing getting louder before it cut off. I lifted my phone to my ear again and heard Kendra’s voice message. I ended the call and redialed. The ringing started up again and we followed it down two more cars, but didn’t see Kendra. And then I saw another smudge of blood along the side of a white SUV. “There!” I said, and darted forward.

Heath still had hold of my elbow and he checked me. “Together,” he whispered. We crept along the cars to the other end and looked around. No sign of Kendra. “Call it one more time,” he said.

I redialed, praying we weren’t too late. We heard ringing again and it sounded like it was coming from right under our feet. I sank down low and looked under the SUV. There was Kendra, eyes open and staring at me as she lay in a pool of blood that was growing bigger by the second. I couldn’t help it, I screamed and reached for her hand. It was still warm. “Kendra!” I cried just as Heath shouted for someone to come help us.

“Kendra!” I yelled again, willing those staring eyes to blink, to move, to not look so vacant. A sob bubbled up in my throat.
“Kendra!”

And then, like a miracle she gasped just enough to let me know she was still clinging to life.

I got down on my belly and wiggled under the car. Behind me I could hear Heath continue his shouts for someone to get a doctor. “Oh, Kendra,” I said softly when I managed to wiggle close enough to her to put a hand on the side of her head. If she died here, I didn’t want to her to die alone. “I’m here, honey,” I said. “I’m here. Help is coming. You just have to hang on a few more seconds, okay? Just hang on, Kendra. Just hang on!”

Her mouth opened and another bubble of noise came out. I realized her throat had been cut and wondered how she was still alive. And then her hand moved and I could see that the effort was costing her. I put my hand down toward hers and in her palm I felt her phone. I was about to close my hand over hers to reassure her when she pushed the phone into my palm and pulled it away again. And then her eyes closed.

“Kendra!” I said sternly. “Kendra, you listen to me! You hang on, okay? You hang on!”

But those lids didn’t open again and I couldn’t tell if her chest had stopped its feeble rise and fall. And then there were what sounded like a dozen footfalls all around the car. Heath called my name and I knew it was his hand on my calf. I knew I needed to back away from Kendra and let the medical staff do their thing, but my brain was still reeling from the fact that Kendra might’ve just died right in front of me.

“Em!” Heath said more firmly as other people wriggling under the SUV came into view. “Come on, Em, come on out and let them help her.”

I nodded, even though no one was looking at me—all eyes were on Kendra. On my elbows I backed out from under the SUV, and once I was clear, Heath lifted me into his arms and held me gently as I sobbed and sobbed.