SPIRIT OF CONSEQUENCE (A Spirit Walking Mystery Book 1) (18 page)

“You always did. Want me to send the info to you at this box or through the backdoor of your old garage?”

I didn’t really want Sponge’s email attached to Dodge’s machine. That old email account should still be active. It was on one of the free services and no one knew about it. No one would have known to cancel it. “Old Garage.” I emailed Sponge back.

“Smart girl. Money?”

“Freebie.”

“Okay, I guess I owe you one.”

“At least.”

“Info to follow.”

“Thanks.”

“Nice to hear from you, Lady Luck.”

“You too, Sponge.”

If anyone could find out the lecturer’s name, Sponge could do it. I closed Dodge’s computer and suddenly felt exhausted. Maybe a little nap would be okay. I lay down next to Dodge, trying not to touch him so I wouldn’t disturb him. Immediately, he reached over and pulled me close to him.

“Were you hacking into my computer?” he whispered in my ear.

“I was just doing some research on religious ethics lecturers for you.”

“That’s nice. It’s good to have a personal assistant.” He kissed my neck and fell back asleep.

I was asleep a few minutes later. Then I was dreaming that I floated above my body. I could see myself lying in a hospital bed, connected to all kinds of tubing and monitors. It must have been after the crash and right before I died. The room was filled with bouquets of flowers, and sitting on the bed table were a dozen yellow daisies.

Uncle George always gave me yellow daisies. He used to bring them to me every time he bailed me out of trouble. He’d tell me, no matter how many times I pulled out the petals, when I got to the end he would always still love me, no matter what I did or got into. We would both laugh, I’d give him a hug, and then I would go off and get in trouble again. God, I missed that old man.

As I floated, Uncle George came into the room. He picked up the vase of daisies, dumped them out and put in new ones. Then he sat down on the chair next to the bed. He took my hand.

“Sammie, I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Uncle George,” I said it but he didn’t hear me.

Then Uncle George pushed my hair behind my ears, like he’d done so many times when I was young and kissed me gently on my forehead.

I faded out of the hospital room and back into that damn Jaguar. I was starting to hate that car! Faster and faster, laughing, singing, and then screaming and falling. I reached for something to grab on to, but everything slipped through my hands. Then a bolt of lightening exploded in my head, a wave of excruciating pain flowed over my entire body. And darkness, pitch black darkness…

Chapter 18

“Samantha!” I heard Dodge’s voice. I fought back the darkness but I couldn’t stop myself from falling.

I reached out to grab a branch of a tree but it slipped through again and I tumbled.

“Samantha!” I heard him again and then my body shuddered.

I was finally awake and Dodge was shaking me, “Samantha, wake up!”

I shook my head to clear the dream. I put my hands on his arms. “It’s okay, I’m awake.”

“Was that the nightmare?”

“Yes.”

“It was bad. You screamed at the top of your lungs. It’s a good thing that no one can hear you or they’d have broken down the door thinking I was beating the hell out of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. “No, I’m sorry. God, it’s got to be terrible to relive your death over and over again.”

“It’s not a very pleasant experience, I can tell you that.”

“Why now?”

“I don’t know.” I reached over and brushed the hair from his eyes. “It could be that I’m starting to move on.”

His eyes grew wide. “No,” he shook his head.

“Maybe that’s why I’m reliving my death, getting tired and looking pale.”

“Damn it! I don’t want to lose you just when I have you again.”

“You might not have a choice.”

He wrapped his arms around me, buried his head in my hair, and held me tighter. “No, I won’t go on without you.”

I leaned my head away from him. “Listen here, Dodge Dart Benson. If and when I leave, you’ll be just fine. Do you hear me? If you do something stupid, I’ll come back and haunt you!”

He looked up and the corners of his mouth tilted upward, “Promise?”

“If I can.” I pulled his face toward mine. I stopped right before his lips touched mine. “Since I’m still here now, how about making me feel alive?”

His eyes glistened. “I can do that.”

And he did. With tenderness he kissed every inch of my body. Loving me, holding me, and making me feel that no matter what happened, he’d always remember me.

Afterwards, I fell asleep in his arms, feeling safe, content and loved. Sometime later we were both awakened by a pounding on the door.

“Dodge?”

Dodge sat up and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dexter.”

“It’s nine o’clock. Let’s get going.”

Dodge turned to me. “Just because his wife is not here, he thinks we should get up early every day. If she was here, he’d stay in bed until noon.”

I smiled. “Get in the shower and go to work.”

He pushed my hair behind my ears. “You look a little better today.”

I touched my face. “Not so pale?”

“No, better.”

I shook my head. “Wishful thinking.”

He picked up my hand and kissed it. “Marry me, Samantha.”

“What?”

“You heard me, marry me.”

“Who are you going to get to perform the wedding vows between a ghost and a man?”

“This is Vegas. I can find someone.”

“I don’t know.”

“What? You don’t love me.”

“No, of course, I love you. It’s just too weird. What would our wedding photos look like?”

“A handsome man dressed in a black tux and his invisible wife,” he replied.

I laughed. “Sure, okay. If you’re willing to go through the humiliation of people thinking you’re nuts. I’d love to marry you.”

“Great. When?”

“After you’ve caught the killer.”

“That might take months, even years.”

“Then it’s a good incentive to get you out of this bed and moving.”

He jumped from the bed and yelled at the door, “Give me five minutes, Dexter, and I’ll be dressed and ready to go.”

“Okay.” I heard Dexter call from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

“No, just wait for me in the hall.”

I heard Dexter grumble from the other side of the door. A few minutes later, Dodge came out of the bathroom dressed. He came over to the bed, kissed me, and said, “I’m off to work. I’ll find the killer and then we’re getting married.”

I smiled. “Anything you say.”

Dodge left the room and I went into the bathroom to look in the mirror. He was wrong, I didn’t look better. If anything, I looked paler. There was almost a translucent quality to my skin. I didn’t have much time left.

I changed into my green sweatsuit and opened Dodge’s computer. The password didn’t work anymore. Did the machine automatically change the password, or had Dodge gotten up and changed it last night after I had fallen asleep? I typed in “Samantha” and the computer hummed to life.

A few strokes later and I was in my old email system. I had over a thousand messages. I selected them all, and then de-selected the last five. I didn’t recognize the senders but Sponge never sent an email directly from him. I deleted the rest and started opening up the five. I found it on the fourth email.

“Hey, Lady Luck. Here’s the information and the notes you wanted. Tell your friend he’s lucky to know you. These would have been impossible to get without me.”

Sponge didn’t have any self-image problems.

There were two attachments. I clicked on the first one and a multicolored flier came up, announcing a three-session lecture spread over two weeks. It was given by Professor Zebedee Thornton and it was on the implications of religious ethics. That was cute. The disciples James and his brother, John, were the sons of Zebedee. This was either the killer or the killer had some kind of connection to the lecturer.

The second attachment was the notes from the class. The lecture might not have been half bad. It started with the discussion of different religions and the ethics of dealing with them and any special situations that might arise when dealing with a member of that religion. A lot about respecting others’ beliefs and not judging them based on your own. Then the attendees were split into groups of four. They were randomly assigned based on their seat number, that way no one would be with anyone that they knew.

The next page listed the topics to be discussed in the groups: current profession, last five jobs, place of birth, parents’ religion, religious upbringing, current religious beliefs, and any current affiliation with organized religion. It was all of the information that the killer needed to pick his victims.

I closed down Dodge’s computer and left his room. The team was probably working in the conference room.

As I walked down the hallway, I could hear Dexter yelling, “What?”

“Sh!” Dodge pulled him out of the conference room as I came around the corner.

“You’re getting married?” Dexter asked.

“Yes.”

“To who?”

“Samantha, who else?”

“You don’t even know this girl.”

“I know enough. I love her and I want to marry her.”

“I haven’t even met her.”

“That will have to wait until the ceremony.”

Dexter starred at Dodge for several seconds, then asked, “When?”

“As soon as we wrap up this case.”

Dexter sighed. “Good, that gives me time to talk you out of marrying a girl you don’t even know.”

“You’re not going to change my mind, Dexter.”

“I’m your best friend, Dodge. I’ll find a way.”

“Even your friend is skeptical about you marrying a ghost,” I teased Dodge.

“I’ll convince him.” Dodge said.

“Convince who?” Dexter looked around.

“Never mind, Dexter.” Dodge opened the door to the conference room and pushed Dexter in. I followed.

Marge sat with the man I had seen talking to Dodge yesterday. He wore either the same suit or another just like it, except this time he had a blue tie instead of black. His eyes kept glancing from Marge’s chest to the files on the table.

“Who’s the new guy?” I asked.

“Stan.” Dodge walked up to him. “You’re the best profiler the FBI has. Do you have anything new to say about this guy?”

He shook his head. “Not really, Dodge. He’s a religious nut.”

“Is that a technical term?” Marge asked, touching his arm so he would look at her. She flirted and Stan was eating up the attention.

“No, but it’s the truth,” Stan placed his hand on top of hers.

“I have some information about the lecturer, or have you already found him?” I asked Dodge, ignoring the growing pheromones in the room.

Dodge shot his head up and shook it.

“Can you open a computer for me?”

Dodge pulled over a laptop and started it.

“What are you doing with my computer?” Marge broke her eye contact with Stan and glared at Dodge.

“I need to retrieve an email.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I’ve got a source that said they’d send me something that might help.”

“You and your mysterious sources,” Dexter grumbled.

“Go into the Internet,” I told Dodge.

He did.

“Now go into the Freedom Email Server.”

He did.

“Isn’t that the free service that spouts all that crap about freedom of speech?” Marge asked.

Dodge ignored Marge and looked up at me.

“Okay, go into Lady Luck’s email account.”

Dodge smiled and typed it in.

“Who’s Lady Luck?” Dexter asked.

“My source,” Dodge replied.

Dexter frowned at Dodge, but then brought his attention back to the computer screen.

“She gave you her password?” Marge asked.

“Sure.”

“No woman would ever give a man her password,” she shook her head. “It’s just not done.”

Dodge shrugged and put his fingers on the keys.

Okay, I felt stupid. I wished I had realized this morning that I would have to give him my password. I would have changed it.

“What’s her password, Dodge?” Dexter asked.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s zeonhigh, one word, no capitals.”

Dodge frowned and then typed it in.

“She’s got twenty new emails. Is it one of those?” Marge asked.

Damn, those spam people were quick. I’d just gotten off the thing a few minutes ago. “Click on the old one that says, Barnacle Pharmaceuticals,” I told Dodge.

He did and the four officers started reading.

“We’ve got to talk to this guy,” Marge said.

“Print that stuff up,” Stan said. “I want to get it to the local office and see if they’ve heard of this guy before.”

As they attached a printer to the laptop, I went around and looked at the new emails. There was one from Sea Alert. This was an emergency notice sent to me by Sponge. What was the problem? I wondered. They were all busy reading the pages that had printed from the other email, so I pushed the alert from Sponge.

“Get out, Lady Luck. Someone’s monitoring this box. There’s a shadow in here checking the entries. It tried to attach itself to my email to you. Who’d you piss off?”

Couldn’t be me, I had been dead for almost five years. Sponge’s alert meant that he wouldn’t answer any more emails from this account. If I wanted something from him again, I would have to go through one of my other emails. I had at least ten of them set up, so it wouldn’t be a problem if Dodge needed more help. I deleted Sponge’s alert and sat down on the table next to the computer.

Dodge came back to the computer, looked up and winked at me. He mouthed, “Nice work.”

I nodded.

Then he went into the Internet and looked up Professor Zebedee Thornton’s lecture schedule. “This guy’s here in town, right now. He’s giving his lectures at the MGM.” Dodge said. He turned to the group.

They all came over and stood by the computer.

Marge pointed to the screen. “His itinerary puts him in New York, Charlton, and San Francisco at the times of the murders.”

“We definitely need to talk to this guy,” Dexter said.

“He’s got a lecture this afternoon.” Dodge looked at Marge. “Are you up to a lecture on religious ethics?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, then. Stan, you take this information over to the Las Vegas PD and the Feds. Dexter and I will go and talk to the professor. Marge, I need you to do some digging into the Thorntons. I want to know everything about them. Then I’ll have you sit in on his class and see what it’s all about. That way you can tell us if there are any obvious creeps hanging around the group.”

Stan nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” He grabbed the papers. “I hope your source isn’t the originator of this email.”

“Why?” Dodge asked.

“I can see at least five different Internet laws that were broken to get this information.” He held up the papers. “I used to work in Internet Fraud before I became a profiler.”