Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense Page 18

  “Take a chair, Johnny,” Frank said, grinning at Candy as she sat in the chair across the table from him.

  She flicked a glance at Johnny and jerked her chair closer to Drew. “There’s room here.” She played with a lock of hair and watched him. “I’ll feel a lot safer with you holding my hand.”

  “We’re not holding hands,” Kirsty interrupted sharply. When everyone stared at her, she flushed and smoothed the tablecloth in front of her. “We’re going to place the tip of one finger on the bottom of the glass.” She touched the overturned glass and then pulled her hand back as if burned. “Someone needs to turn the light off.”

  No one moved. Nora gazed at the others, hoping someone else would volunteer. She didn’t want to be the one walking back to the table with only the wavering flame of the candle to provide light.

  Gabe sighed, got up, and turned off the light.

  After he reseated himself, Kirsty stretched out her hand again and placed her index finger on the bottom of the glass. “Each of you should place one finger on the edge of the glass.”

  Everyone did as she suggested, although it was awkward with so many people. There was hardly enough room on the glass for each of them to touch it, and they kept knocking elbows and wrists.

  “Now what?” Frank asked. He sounded excited and happy at the prospect of communicating with a ghost.

  His attitude only seemed to increase Nora’s tension. Her stiff neck and shoulders ached.

  The others looked equally uneasy, although it was difficult to tell in the dim light. Their expressions were masked with shadows and a strange pallor that emphasized the darkness around their eyes.

  “We need a moment of silence, then we can ask questions,” Kirsty replied in a soft voice.

  No one spoke. The house creaked and settled around them.

  In the distance, Nora could hear the steady ticking of a clock hidden in the gloom. She could almost hear the air drifting through the empty rooms, speaking in sibilant whispers at the very edge of her hearing.

  Her shoulders itched. She shrugged them self-consciously. Is someone behind me?

  She concentrated, trying to listen as the sounds rose and fell with the cadence of a conversation, but other than the unnerving sensation, she couldn’t make any sense of the words.

  The ghosts murmured around them, giggling maliciously at their deadly naivety… She shivered and pushed the thought away. The noises were just drafts, or the settling of the house. Nothing to frighten her.

  “Is anyone here?” Kirsty asked.

  At first, Nora felt nothing. Then the glass seemed to tremble under her finger. It moved a fraction toward the word “yes.”

  “You’re pressing too hard and holding the glass,” Kirsty said in a sharp voice. She frowned and glanced at the others. “Don’t press down.”

  Nora nodded, as did Candy, Frank, and Drew. Gabe’s face appeared expressionless, but Nora had the impression that he was trying not to grin. Had he been the one holding the glass back? She cast him a reproving glance and waited for him to shrug before she looked at Kirsty again.

  “Who are you?” Kirsty asked.

  The glass might have moved in the direction of the letter A, but it was so tentative that Nora wasn’t sure.

  Kirsty’s frown deepened. “Does your name start with an A?”

  They waited. No one daring to breathe, but the glass did not move.

  “Where is the gold?” Drew’s question sounded unnaturally loud.

  Several of them winced, including Nora.

  The glass didn’t move. Kirsty inhaled and opened her mouth. The glass jerked and slid toward the H. An inch away from the letter it veered toward the E and then the R.

  “Here,” Candy said in a high, nervous voice. “It’s here.”

  At the sound of her voice, the glass paused halfway between the R and the E.

  “Where?” Drew asked again. “What room?”

  The whispers behind her—drafts, she amended—increased. A cold shiver ran down her back. Her chest ached from strain and holding her breath. She deliberately let out a long breath. Her outstretched arm ached from the unnatural position, and she shifted to ease her muscles.

  “Why doesn’t he answer?” Drew threw the question at Kirsty.

  She stared at him, her eyes unreadable in the poor light. “Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about the gold. Maybe he’s here for some other reason.” She focused on the glass. “What happened to you? Were you murdered?”

  No response.

  Gabe’s voice suddenly coming from the end of the table made Nora jerk upright. “Who killed you?”

  No response.

  “Where is the murderer?” Nora asked. If it was one of them in this room, she wanted to know.

  H. E. R. E.

  Nora sucked in a sharp breath. “Who?”

  I.N. The glass halted for half a second. H. E. R. E.

  That was no help. She already suspected that someone here had murdered Archie. At the moment, Candy seemed the most likely.

  “We know you were murdered in this room,” Kirsty whispered. “Do you know who hurt you?”

  No response.

  Kirsty eyed Nora. “He responds to you, you have a connection with him. You ask the questions.”

  “He answered Drew, too,” Nora protested. It was eerie to think of any kind of connection to Archie. The more she heard about him, the less she wanted any kind of a link with him.

  A condescending smile curved Drew’s wide mouth before he asked, “Is the gold here, in this room?”

  The glass trembled for a few seconds and then stopped. They waited, arms shaking, the tension increasing until it was a palpable force. The faces around the table appeared pale in the wavering candlelight, and their eyes glinted as their gazes flickered nervously around, straining to see into the shadows.

  Only Gabe and Johnny seemed relaxed, almost bored as they waited patiently. When Nora glanced at Gabe, he winked at her. Some of her tension eased, making her aware that her outstretched arm was starting to tremble, too.

  She shifted again. Nothing seemed to help. Slowly, Nora grew aware of a chill lapping over her ankles. Her eyes burned with the effort of seeing into the gloomy shadows around them.

  Something moved in a smooth, curling motion.

  “What’s that?” Kirsty asked, her voice barely audible. “Something is happening.”

  Both Johnny and Gabe pulled their arms back and turned away from the table.

  “What did you see?” Gabe asked.

  “I don’t know.” Kirsty withdrew her finger to cross her arms protectively over her chest. Her thin hands fluttered over her upper arms as she rubbed them. “What’s happening? It’s so cold in here.”

  “I feel it, too,” Candy said. She shifted closer to Johnny and stared over her shoulder. “Listen! Do you hear that? Whispering.”

  A soft susurrus grew louder. Nora nodded, straining to make out words.

  A wispy tentacle of mist curled over the edge of the table. As they watched, it encircled the candle before cascading over the circle of letters. The deathly cold intensified.

  Nora clamped her mouth shut to keep her teeth from chattering. Uncontrollable shivers ran up and down her body in painful waves. Her muscles tightened, trying to resist, until it seemed as if they would splinter her frozen bones.

  “Turn on the lights,” Nora said, hoping Gabe was willing to brave the blackness beyond the table and find the light switch.

  She couldn’t move. The whispering behind her grew louder. She could almost hear individual words if she concentrated. Hissing, cruel words carried on the rising tide of icy mist. The vulnerable skin on the nape of her neck tingled.

  She was scaring herself, but she couldn’t help it. The terror in the room was contagious and impossible to fight. The darkness pressed closer. Mist rose higher, lapping over the table. Only the flame of the candle wavered above the pearly gray fog.

  “Johnny?” Frank’s blue-tinged lips trembled as he stare
d at his assistant.

  “Just stay where you are. Everyone, stay where you are.” Johnny’s voice sounded harsh and unnatural.

  “I can’t! I can’t stand it any longer!” Candy shrieked. She leapt to her feet, jolting the table. The candle flickered wildly, causing all the shadows to dip and slide around them. Candy gazed around, her body jerking, and clutched her throat protectively with her hands.

  Nora stood and reached across the table, trying to grasp Candy’s wrist to reassure her. Before she could touch her, the mist rose another foot. The glimmering cloud reached Candy’s shoulder. Those seated were completely obscured by the damp, unnatural fog.

  The malicious whispers surrounding them increased in volume. A hysterical giggle rang out of the darkness.

  The candle flickered and went out.

  “Candy, take my hand,” Nora ordered. “We can go turn on the light, together.”

  The terrified woman reached out a shaking hand. A tendril of mist caressed her chin and then covered her mouth. Candy’s eyes widened in mindless fear.

  She disappeared.

  “Candy!” Nora shrieked, waving her hands through the grayness. “Candy!”

  Before she was aware of his movement, Gabe stood, strode around the table, and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her into his arms as he said, “Johnny, turn on the lights. Now!”

  A babble of voice and scraping chairs greeted his words. Everyone seemed to jerk to their feet simultaneously. The next few moments were a blur of confusion, however, Johnny must have finally found the light switch for the main overhead lights flared to life. Under their harsh, blue-white glow, the abnormal mist receded.

  The frigid waves fell below the edge of the table and writhed over the floor until they finally evaporated.

  Nora ran her hand over her arms. The terrible chill was gone, but she still felt cold. “Candy?”

  Drew, Kirsty, Johnny, and Gabe were standing. Frank remained seated in his wheelchair, his plump face gray. They looked at each other with slowly dawning horror.

  Gabe placed a heavy arm around her shoulders. “Come on. You need to get out of here. We have to lock this room and call the police.”

  “Lock the room?” She stared up at him, her mind refusing to understand his words. “Call the police?”

  Johnny was crouching on the other side of the table, near Candy’s chair.

  Nora glanced from him to Gabe. Her heart felt as if it were too big for her narrow chest. It hurt to breathe. “What’s wrong? Where’s Candy?”

  Johnny stood, dusting his hands on his jeans and looking at Gabe. When Gabe caught his gaze, Johnny shook his head.

  Nora gripped the front of Gabe’s shirt. “What is it? Tell me!”

  “It’s Candy.” He caught her hands and held them between his warm palms. Part of her was aware of the calluses on his palms and the gentleness of his touch. “Come on. You can sit in the den while we call the police.”

  “She’s dead? Is that what you’re trying to say?” Nora asked shakily, trying to see over the edge of the table to the spot where Candy had stood.

  “Yes. Come one. You and Kirsty need to get out of here.”

  “I’ll go with them,” Frank said. He sounded ill, stumbling over the simple words as if it hurt him to speak.

  Kirsty wavered and gripped the back of her chair. “Dead? I don’t understand.”

  Drew stared at her, his mouth working. No sounds came out.

  Somehow, Gabe and Johnny got them out of the room and into the den. Johnny ran to the dining room and snagged a bottle of brandy and a few glasses. When he returned, he shoved the bottle and one of the glasses into Nora’s hands.

  “Take a drink,” Johnny advised her, although his gaze was locked on Kirsty.

  Nora glanced past his shoulder to Gabe, who waited in the doorway. He nodded to her.

  “Okay.” Her lips felt numb. She swallowed. “Sure,” she said more firmly as she poured herself a drink.

  Drew grabbed the bottle out of her hands, picked up one of the glasses, and filled it with a liberal shot. He tilted his head back and drained the glass in one long swallow, barely flinching when the burning alcohol hit the back of his throat.

  The grayness and strained lines in his face slowly dissipated as he poured another shot and knocked it back.

  When he handed the bottle to her, Nora realized Johnny and Gabe were gone. The deep, masculine tones of their voices gradually faded as they walked down the hallway to the study.

  “Dead?” Kirsty’s high, strained voice was one decibel shy of a shriek. “How could she be dead?” She stared at Nora with huge eyes. “The ghosts killed her—they must have! They’re going to kill us all.” Her head swiveled as she tried to see what lurked in the dark corners of the room.

  “No. You’re wrong,” Nora replied.

  “Wrong?” Kirsty leaned toward her, shoulders hunched, hands fisted at her sides as her body shook. “Then what was it?”

  “I don’t know,” Nora said.

  “You don’t know,” Kirsty repeated. “None of us knows.”

  Nora struggled to keep her panic at bay. Hurry up, Gabe. Come back. Her mind whirled from one terrifying thought to another. A soft noise made her whirl around to peer into the shadows, her heart beat so hard and fast that she felt ill.

  Nothing.

  When the door creaked and opened, everyone sucked in sharp breaths and turned to face it.

  Gabe walked in, a thoughtful, serious expression on his face. “Why didn’t one of you turn on more lights?” He made a detour to flip the switch before he joined them. “Are you all right?” His warm hand pressed her shoulder before slipping up to cradle her neck briefly.

  The gesture filled her with a rush of gratitude and love.

  Love? Her breath caught in her throat.

  When did that happen? She barely knew him. And yet she couldn’t deny the sense of connection or the way he made her feel safe when he was near. Grounded.

  “I’m fine.” She caught his hand and gave it a squeeze. Both Kirsty and Drew eyed her, and her grip tightened. She hadn’t meant to hold his hand, particularly in front of the others, but at this point, she didn’t care what they thought.

  “More police are on the way. The man posted outside sent for them.” Gabe glanced around and gave her an apologetic glance as he released her hand. “I think it would be better if we all waited here. Johnny’s going to lock the door of the study.”

  “But are you sure?” Nora’s voice trailed off.

  “There’s nothing you can do for her.” His palm pressed against her back as he urged her toward the sectional sofa.

  “The police can’t help,” Kirsty said bitterly. “No one can help us.”

  Ignoring Kirsty and Drew’s comments, Gabe said, “Just stay together here.”

  “Why bother?” Drew hesitated and looked at the doorway as if contemplating going to his room. “Seems like togetherness is no protection. Maybe we’d be better off in our rooms.”

  “No. I’m sorry, but it would be better if you stayed together here until Gerhardt arrives.” Gabe frowned at Drew.

  A short, harsh bark of a laugh erupted from Drew’s throat. “So we don’t have a chance to get rid of any evidence, you mean?”

  “Think what you want. We’re all going to stay in the den until the police arrive,” Gabe replied.

  Nora touched Drew, surprised at the tension hardening the muscles of his forearm. “Come on, Drew. It won’t be long. And frankly, I don’t think any of us really want to be alone at the moment, do we?”

  “Speak for yourself,” Drew said.

  Nonetheless, he sat down with a thud on the sofa and leaned back, closing his eyes.

  Seated next to Gabe, Nora glanced at the others and couldn’t help but wonder, which one of them had killed Candy?

  And how?

  Chapter Sixteen

  It could have been Nora. Gabe moved on the sofa until her thigh pressed against his. He could have lost her, perhaps almost did.
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  What the hell was going on? How could that woman be shot with everyone present, and yet no one saw anything? They should have noticed something—he should have.

  Not everyone was there. Sarah was missing. Once again, everything seemed to point to the housekeeper.

  He went over the events in his mind.

  Whispering. The sibilant voices had been loud, distracting, and yet none of the words was clear enough to understand. The noise had been a distraction, and it had worked. Whatever sounds had been made, including the muffled gunshot, had been subsumed by the whispering.

  The noise had to have been a recording, but the effect had been chilling and effective nonetheless. It had confused them all enough for them to stand around the table like a herd of deer caught in the headlights while the murderer targeted his next victim.

  His gut burned. He clenched his jaw, aching to touch Nora again. If anything happened to her, he could never forgive himself. Life without her appeared bleak and lonely.

  “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” Nora leaned closer to him, their arms brushing.

  “I don’t know.” He straightened, hearing voices in the hallway. He smiled at her. “Correction, they’re here.”

  She let out a sigh and relaxed against him. “Thank goodness.” She glanced at him and grimaced. “They may not solve anything, but I do feel better with the police inside the house.”

  He studied her relieved face, trying not to feel frustrated. He hadn’t solved anything, either. To add salt to the wound, he’d even witnessed the murder of another woman and hadn’t done a thing to prevent it, although he now had a pretty good idea about what was going on at Autumn Hill. And it wasn’t a vengeful ghost.

  Unfortunately, his speculation was just that: speculation. And he had no intention of sharing it until he had a chance to verify his theory.

  “Yeah,” he finally said wryly. “More people to see nothing. Great.”

  That about summed up the situation.

  Gerhardt strolled through the doorway, the lines around his mouth and stretching across his forehead etched into deep furrows. From the set of his jaw, he appeared angry, as well. He cast a glance around the room before focusing on Gabe.