He said, “I didn’t want to kill her. I gave her a chance. I was good to her, got her pretty things, made sure she had what she needed. She kept saying she loved me, and for a little while I was stupid and believed her. Then I asked her if she wanted to go home, and she said she did. After all I’d done for her, she wanted to leave me and go home! I knew then that the bitch had been lying, I knew then that she was just like the others, that she didn’t love me, so I killed her.”
His face twisted, and the terrifying intensity returned to his eyes. Charlie shivered, and immediately tried to get a grip. She only hoped he didn’t notice the trembling that she couldn’t quite control.
“You took away my life,” Bayley screamed at him. “I was lying the whole time. You made me sick every time you came near me. I hope you burn in hell for what you did!”
“Bayley is upset that you killed her,” Charlie said steadily. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Hannah’s eyes were open now. Glassy with horror, they were fixed on Terry Kingston’s knife.
“You’re full of shit,” Kingston growled. His fingers flexed around the knife, but at least he hadn’t sprung at her yet.
“No, I’m not.” Charlie was sweating bullets. Her pulse pounded. Her heart raced. She felt shaky, jittery, scared to death, but she didn’t dare let any of it show, just like she didn’t dare to pull her eyes away from his face. “Bayley, did he get you a pretty dress like Hannah is wearing? What color was it?”
“Blue,” Bayley said. Her tears were gone now. She looked at Kingston with loathing. “Only it wasn’t pretty. It was ugly and I hated it.”
“Bayley’s dress was blue,” Charlie said. Kingston’s eyes flickered. He cast a quick, apprehensive look around the room. Then his gaze returned to Charlie. There was an ugly expression on his face. He was breathing hard, his hand was tight around the knife, and he once again looked on the verge of jumping at her. Charlie’s throat threatened to close up.
“How do you know that?” he demanded.
“I told you. Bayley is right here with us. Right in front of you. She told me.”
“You’re lying!”
“Two other girls are here. They say he killed them, too.” Garland’s voice was hoarse. Being unable to do anything physical to help her was causing him to practically vibrate with tension. Charlie could feel it coming off him in waves. “Caroline Clark and Danielle Breyer. Caroline says the dress he got her was red with a big full skirt.”
“Caroline says the dress you got her was red with a big full skirt,” Charlie repeated. Of course she couldn’t see the other two girls—they had been dead too long. Thank God Garland could! If she could just keep Kingston off balance …
“Caroline’s here, too?” Casting another harried glance around the space, Kingston took a step back. He actually looked a little afraid.
“Her ghost,” Charlie said, knowing the terrifying connotation the word had for most people. If she could scare him enough, maybe he’d … What? Turn tail and run? Her heart pounded so hard it hurt as she realized that rescue was her and Hannah’s only hope. Keep talking. “The ghosts of Caroline and Danielle and Bayley are all here.”
“You’re lying!”
“Danielle says her dress was yellow and had a big bow in back.” Garland’s hands were clenched into fists. From the corner of her eye, Charlie could see the bunching of the muscles in his arms and shoulders. She could feel the violence in him. “She says she cut her hand and this little punk-ass bastard put a Band-Aid on it.”
“Danielle says her dress was yellow with a bow in the back. She cut her hand and you put a Band-Aid on it,” Charlie said.
“How are you doing this?” Kingston was breathing hard. For the moment at least it seemed he had forgotten the knife in his hand.
Bayley stood right in front of Kingston now. Charlie could only see her back. It was straight as a poker. Her long blond hair hung down her back in an Alice-in-Wonderland fall.
“You killed my mom and my brother. You want me to prove I’m here? You took Trevor’s video game. You were playing it, at your house.” Fury seethed through Bayley’s every word. “You had an argument with some guy right before you killed me. Then you came and asked me if I wanted to go home, and when I said I did you told me to close my eyes and pray”—Bayley’s voice broke; it was shaking as she finished—“and you cut my throat.”
“Bayley says you took her little brother’s video game. She says you were playing it at your house,” Charlie told him. “She says you had an argument with another man, and you told her to close her eyes and pray before you cut her throat.”
Kingston’s head snapped back as if she’d hit him. “This is some kind of trick, isn’t it? It’s a setup.” He looked wildly around. “You’re playing me. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“Doc, your friend is here. Holly. She’s telling me this piece of shit watched when she was killed. She says he was a little kid, and he watched.”
Charlie’s eyes jerked toward Garland at that. “What?”
“Jesus, keep your attention on him!” The harshness of his tone sprang from fear for her, Charlie knew. “Holly says that he was hiding in a closet and he watched.”
“Who the hell are you talking to?” A nerve near Kingston’s eye jumped. His voice was louder now, and shriller. The knife moved threateningly, and it was all Charlie could do not to focus on it instead of his face. “And don’t you go telling me it’s some damned ghost.”
“It is a ghost. This one is named Holly. She was murdered a long time ago, fifteen years. She says you watched as she was killed. She says you hid in a closet.”
Kingston’s mouth fell open. His face whitened. He visibly shuddered. As his eyes darted around again, Charlie saw that he was starting to sweat. “Who’s telling you this?”
“The killer was his dad,” Garland supplied.
“Holly’s telling me. She says it was your father who killed her.”
“What the fuck?” He wet his lips as he shot a fearful glance in Garland’s direction. Charlie guessed he’d been able to tell that whatever she was purportedly talking to was about right there. Then his eyes fixed on Charlie again. They brimmed with rage and fear. “You’re not doing this to me. I’m not buying it, you bitch,” he snarled, and Charlie saw in the flash of his eyes that time was up: he meant to spring at her.
“Goddamn it.” Garland made an abortive movement that brought him closer to her as Charlie’s heart leaped into her throat and Kingston seemed to gather himself.
Bayley screamed out, “No!”
With a loud thud, someone kicked open the van’s door. The flimsy-looking metal panel crashed back on its hinges.
“What the fuck?” Kingston whirled, still holding the knife.
A gun blasted, just as quick as that. Charlie screamed like a steam whistle as the sound of the explosion blasted her eardrums and the back of Kingston’s head blew off. Blood sprayed the small compartment. She felt the warmth of the splatter hitting her as Kingston’s body dropped like a felled tree. The impact as it hit the floor shook the van.
“Is everybody all right in here?” Haney asked. Never in her life had Charlie expected to be glad to see him, but she absolutely was.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Garland growled as he dropped down into a crouch beside her. She could feel the intensity of his relief. “You ever think that messing with serial killers might not be the smartest move, Doc?”
“F-fine.” She ignored Garland in favor of replying to Haney, only to discover that her teeth were chattering and it was an effort to get even that one word out. Bayley was gone. Charlie could only suppose it was because her killer was now dead. Hannah’s body was tense and her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Charlie experienced a quiver of fellow feeling for what she knew must be the terror the girl was experiencing. Her own body was shaking with fright and reaction, and she would have turned into Garland’s arms except, oh, wait, that wasn’t possible. As the realization that it was over—that she and Hannah were safe—started to sink in, she took a deep breath and sagged a bit, still trapped by that damned chain. Haney filled the little area between the counter and closet, looking from Charlie to Hannah, a pistol in his hand, a grim expression on his face.