Emmy never had a chance to raise the gun against Clara. Clara landed on her in a fury. Natasha went for the woman’s wrist. Emmy let out a scream and released the gun.
And then Thor was there, pulling Clara up against him, reciting something he’d been taught by the FBI to Emmy, who just lay on her back in the snow.
“Shoot me!” Emmy pleaded. “Shoot me—let me be with him!”
They heard another voice. “Shoot her! Shoot the stupid, wretched little bitch!”
It was Amelia Carson, standing there in the snow. The breeze seemed to move her clothing and her hair. She looked so beautiful and so sad.
“Living is the most horrible punishment for her,” Thor said softly.
Boris and Natasha let out their husky howls.
Clara sank down to her knees in the snow. She simply couldn’t stand anymore.
Epilogue
Clara finished her goodbye song to Larry Hepburn. She was gratified that there was a beat after the song ended when no one moved.
She was offstage and could smile when she heard a sniffle from the audience.
Nothing like it.
Well, and then the thunderous applause that followed.
There were another three to four minutes until the play ended; she stood in the wings waiting for the curtain call.
As she did, she thought she heard another sniff—right by her side.
“That was beautiful. Really beautiful,” Amelia Carson told her. Clara could feel the softness of the ghost’s touch on her shoulder.
“Thank you.”
“I mean,” Amelia said, “everyone felt it. The love. The sadness.” Amelia was silent a minute. “No one really loved me. I guess my own fault. I wasn’t looking for love—I wanted to be famous. World famous!”
“I’m sure you were loved.”
“Not like that. Not like you’re loved,” Amelia said, and before she could sound too morose, she quickly added, “not that your kindly nature didn’t almost get you killed—twice!”
“Ah, but you helped save me, you know.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
Clara nodded. “Amelia, I know you’re loved. You have family, gone before you. I know they loved you. And Natalie Fontaine—you two were close, great friends!”
“I have a feeling that I have to leave, and I’m so afraid,” Amelia said. “Talking to you...it’s getting harder and harder. And I feel that I’m fading, that I should be turning... Is all that stuff about walking into the light true?” Amelia asked hopefully.
“I think so,” Clara said.
She heard the sound of applause again; time for their curtain call. She hurried out at the appropriate moment, meeting up with Larry Hepburn, taking his hand.
She received all kinds of beautiful flowers, and she, Larry, Ralph, Simon and Connie all congratulated one another as they headed to their dressing rooms. The director called out her satisfaction regarding the show.
Thor was waiting for her in her dressing room. He wasn’t alone.
She’d known he’d be with Jackson and Angela; Angela had met them before the Fate had sailed.
Jackson was basically his own boss, and apparently his office of special units ran like clockwork—it was like an ensemble cast, Jackson had once told her. The Krewe of Hunters all worked together.
She knew, too, that Thor had accepted an assignment with the Krewe.
What she didn’t know was that there would be another guest in her dressing room—an extremely distinguished elderly gentleman with silver hair, a perfectly tall physique and wonderful light eyes. He seemed to have a strange combination of authority and kindness about him.
“Adam Harrison, Clara Avery,” Thor told her. “And Josh, his son.”
She glanced around at Josh. He was a thin youth who appeared to be seventeen or eighteen. He had a quick smile, slightly tousled brown hair and a great manner. “How do you do,” he told her. “You were brilliantly cool, by the way.”
Clara went to take his hand; only then did she realize that he was a ghost. She swallowed hard—what? You saw one ghost and the floodgates opened?
She thanked Josh then and asked them to make themselves at home and apologized—the dressing room was very small.
“No, no, we apologize. We need to get out of your hair,” Adam Harrison said.
“Adam is our great and fearless leader,” Angela Hawkins told her.
“Ah, yes, well, I knew about people like you because...because, well, Josh was always especially talented. I started putting the right people on the right project years and years ago and then, well, friends at the Bureau and I got together and formed the Krewe.”
“I see. Wonderful, and a true pleasure,” Clara murmured.
“Actually, I have a proposition for you, Miss Avery.”
“Clara, please,” she murmured.
“Just let me show you something,” he said.