“You won’t! You can’t! They’ll fire your ass. They’ll put you in jail. And you know what happens to cops in jail— Hell, you won’t be worth flypaper when they’re done!” Tommy mocked him. “You don’t have anything on me, you—”
“When they open your SUV, Tommy, they’re going to find a costume stolen from the Haunted Mausoleum. And there’ll be blood all over it. I don’t know if you or your partner killed Richard and Wendy, but you sure as hell killed Sondra!”
“You’re full of it!”
His denial was firm. Aidan’s mind raced as he took another step toward Tommy.
“Tell him, Tommy. Tell him.”
Aidan realized that the ghost of Richard Highsmith was standing behind him. But Tommy didn’t see him, couldn’t see him.
“You know, the man you killed is here, Tommy. And he’s going to make your life a living hell if you don’t tell the truth.”
“Bull!” Tommy scoffed.
But then a pork loin went flying off a shelf. Followed by a leg of lamb.
And a cut of roast beef. It flew into Tommy’s face. Richard was learning to be an effective ghost—one with good aim, at that.
Tommy fell onto his knees. He ducked and screamed when a pound of bacon came his way.
“Stop, stop, stop!” he cried. “The...Anderson vault...it’s hard to find. That’s where... I think... It’s for the boy. You should hurry.”
Aidan stared at him. “Hurry? God, tell me you didn’t kill them yet!”
“I didn’t even know they were there yet, I swear it!”
“What?”
Tommy laughed, a sickly sound. “Did you think I was behind all this? Really? Hell, the things a man will do for what he wants in life!” He laughed again, a laugh filled with self-mockery. “The things a desperate man will do for a woman. I don’t even believe it myself.”
Aidan barely took the time to close and lock the refrigerator door.
In a strange way, it almost made sense.
*
Mo rolled; she hit Detective Voorhaven’s leg and reached out to touch his throat. He was alive. She crawled over to Debbie. Placing her fingers on Debbie’s throat, she heard her make a noise, a sort of moan.
“Debbie, wake up! We have to get out of here,” she said. “Debbie! You’re in a vault.”
“A vault,” Debbie said, opening her eyes. “Jimmy... J.J.?”
“Debbie, come on! The killer—he’s coming back!”
“What about Jimmy?” she asked.
“He’s alive.”
“He is?”
“Yes, but he can’t help us. He’s out cold, Debbie. Let’s start moving. We have to get J.J. out of here first.”
She pulled Debbie to her feet.
And only then did she see that Debbie was holding something in her hand. A big white table napkin. Labeled Mystic Magic.
And it was drenched with something. Chloroform.
Debbie had not been knocked out herself. She’d been faking it, aware that someone was coming close. She’d lured Mo down here, just like a fly to a spider’s web.
But Debbie couldn’t have been the one to kill Sondra. She’d been at the hotel last night with Jimmy—and under surveillance.
“What are you doing?” Mo asked her.
“Securing my future,” Debbie said. “Would you please stand still? I don’t really want to hurt you—and it won’t hurt with the chloroform. You’ll just go to sleep. And you’re such a good person, Mo. You’ll wind up with the angels, I’m sure.
“Decent, beautiful Mo! Back when we were all kids, you whisked in and out from the city, and whenever you deigned to come here, the world stopped—everyone always wanted to see you! Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t really wish you ill, but you’re here, which leaves me no choice. Here’s how it’s going to work. Jimmy has to kill you and the boy—and leave me crying and hysterical, because, of course, I managed to wake up and kill him before he could kill me.”
Mo stared at her incredulously. “How stupid do you think the police are?”
Debbie laughed. “Pretty stupid. My partner carried out part of my plan last night, right in front of you all. You idiots—you and Grace and everyone—just watched him go by. And the cops? Hopeless. They still don’t have a clue.”
“Your partner?”
“You really have no idea, do you? Well, I won’t let you die in the dark— That’s funny, huh? Tommy. Tommy Jensen. That man would do anything for me. The rest of you girls ignored him all his life. Tommy wasn’t sexy. Tommy wasn’t cool. Well, he wanted someone to love. He got me. And when I told him what we’d achieve in the end...he knew he’d get me and everything he could possibly want.”
Mo hunkered down and carefully lifted J.J. from the stone tomb as she spoke. “Listen, Debbie, if you haven’t actually killed anyone yet—if Tommy did the killing—then you can work out a deal. You can still have a life.”
“Oh, I intend to have a life.” Debbie chuckled. “I’ll be so far away from here they’ll never find me.”
“Wendy was your friend,” Mo said. “And you love J.J.”