“Are you really as stupid as you seem?” Barbara asked. “I conveniently developed a headache and decided to stay home.” She turned to her partner in crime. “Albee, get busy,” she urged.
“Wait,” Genevieve said quickly.
“What is it?” Bennet asked impatiently.
“What about the other men?” she asked.
“That fellow in Richmond?” he asked, annoyed.
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “Don’t you see? It was the same thing! His research was faulty. He knew nothing. Everything he used in that book of his came from me. And did he so much as offer me an acknowledgment? He did not.”
“They’ll get you, you know,” Genevieve said. “Sooner or later, they’ll figure it out.”
Barbara burst out laughing. “I’ll swear Bennet was with me that Sunday morning, if anyone asks. And your dear friend Joe can vouch for his Sunday afternoon—you two came to visit.”
“So you managed everything on Sunday morning,” Genevieve said, looking at Bennet. “Impressive.”
“I helped,” Barbara said proudly. “I was ready with the car over in Jersey. Even that road will lead back to Jared, though. We rented the boat with one of Jared’s credit cards. The Bigelows were always a bit careless. Too much money! They had so much, they never noticed little things like missing credit cards. But enough is enough. I think it’s past time for you to be dead. Albee, get going,” Barbara said shrilly.
“Someone’s here,” Genevieve said.
They both started.
“She’s lying. She’s trying to slow us down,” Barbara said.
“It won’t make any difference, dear,” Bennet said.
“It could be Thorne Bigelow.”
They both froze, staring at her.
She smiled sweetly. “Ghosts do come back,” she warned.
“You’re crazy. But if it makes you happy, feel free to come back as a ghost,” Barbara said.
Albee started to slather on mortar so he could lay another brick, but suddenly he went still. “What’s that?” he demanded, poised to listen.
“What?” Barbara asked.
“There’s someone upstairs.”
“There can’t be. The alarm is on, and the door is locked,” Barbara said. “Stop paying attention to her. She’s playing games, trying to make us think Thorne’s coming back to haunt us. She’s just trying to buy herself time.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” Genevieve said. She managed to twist around a bit, and relieve some of the strain on her arms, but she couldn’t help breathing in all the dust Albee’s masonry was stirring up, and it was making her light-headed. She knew from the conversation that she had to be in Thorne Bigelow’s basement, but it clearly hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned in years.
And apparently they had built this special little niche just for her. When they were finished, no one would know there was anything behind it.
Oh, God. She had to keep them talking or she would panic.
Did it matter now whether she panicked or not?
“Albee, this is wrong,” Barbara said, suddenly irritated.
“What is?”
“She’s supposed to be begging and pleading and crying and all that,” Barbara said peevishly.
“I’m sorry. Are my questions messing up your scenario?” Genevieve demanded. “You’re so smug, but actually, you’ve messed up all your murders.”
“What the hell is that noise?” Bennet demanded, stopping.
“Oh, shut up, and finish!” Barbara demanded. “You’ve only got five bricks to go.”
Another brick slid into place.
Genevieve knew she had to keep him talking. Keep those last bricks out.
Someone would come. She knew that. Eventually, someone would come. But when? Long after her oxygen was gone…?
“Albee, I hear something, too,” Barbara said suddenly. “And…”
Barbara’s voice trailed off as she stared past him, and Genevieve strained to look in that direction, too.
There was someone in the room with them.
Someone, or…
Something.
She could make out a transparent, vaguely formed image of a person, and her heart leapt.
Leslie MacIntyre. And beyond Leslie…
Lori Star.
Leslie was trying hard to knock over the small pile of bricks that remained. Lori was staring at Bennet and tried to strike him, but her fist went right though him. He felt something, though, because he muttered fearfully, “What the hell?”
“It’s Lori,” Genevieve said.
He paused, staring at her. “What?”
“Lori’s ghost is in here with us right now. I’m not lying. She’s with a friend of mine, Leslie MacIntyre. You’ve heard of Leslie, of course. She saved my life before.”
“She’s full of shit, Albee!” Barbara cried.
Genevieve shook her head. “No, I’m telling you the truth. They’re both here.”
“Shut her up! Put that last brick in,” Barbara demanded. “Do it!”
“Barbara, there’s something…I can feel it,” Bennet insisted.
Could he really feel it? Perhaps. Because they were both very real, and they were doing their best to help her.
Barbara still looked unnerved, but she shouted at him, “Put that brick in, you fool!”
Then, miraculously, there was another voice.
A real voice. Hard, loud, firm.