SPIRIT OF CONSEQUENCE (A Spirit Walking Mystery Book 1) (23 page)

“Every minute I don’t talk to her is a minute less for this lady to live,” the voice said.

“Dodge, hand me the phone,” I insisted. “I’m sure he’ll be able to sense me as long as I’m touching the phone.”

Dodge covered the speaker again. “No, Samantha. I’m not involving you in this.”

“I’m dead, damn it, Dodge. It isn’t like he can hurt me and I’m already involved.”

Dodge shook his head. I ignored him and stepped inside his body.

“Ah, there you are, Samantha.”

“I’m here. Let Marge go and I’ll come in her place.”

“That was easy,” the voice said.

“I’m very easy and I like to please.”

A moment of silence.

“Samantha! Get out!” Dodge yelled, his pulse raging out of control, and his body sweating. He was more than just a little mad. Hopefully it was at the killer and not me.

“Can you ask your friend to shut up?” the voice said.

“I can try but he’s a man and a cop. He doesn’t listen very well.”

He laughed. “I like you, Samantha.”

“Then let’s get together.”

“Why would you trade yourself for Marge?”

“Well, it really is my fault you took her instead of me and I’m curious about you.”

More silence.

“I’m starting to not feel so generous,” I told him.

“Okay, okay,” said the voice. “Don’t bring your cop or any of his friends with you.”

“That’s going to be hard.”

“Why?” the voice asked.

I stepped out of Dodge. “Damn it, he can read my thoughts even when I’m not talking to him.”

Dodge glared at me.

“Samantha? Where did you go?” I heard the voice from the phone.

I stepped back into Dodge. “I’m here. I’m just trying to figure out how to come to you without a cop entourage.”

“I’ve always got a plan, Samantha.”

“Great, clue me in and I’ll come running.”

Dodge’s pulse finally steadied out, as did his breathing and body temperature. Maybe he figured out that this might be the only way to catch this guy.

“Tell the cop I said I’d call in an hour and tell you where we would meet. Then go to your room to rest. In thirty minutes, take the stairs to the street. I’ll meet you in front of Treasure Island.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

The man hung up and I stepped out of Dodge.

He closed his phone as Dexter came through the door. “We traced the call to a warehouse by the North Las Vegas Airport.”

“Great, let’s go.” Dodge turned to the door. Dexter went out first, then Dodge looked at me. “Don’t you ever jump inside me again and you’re not leaving this hotel!”

“Like you could stop me,” I said as I strolled right past him and through the wall.

When I came into the hall, Dexter stood by the elevator jabbing his finger on the elevator button, over and over again and growling at the elevator, “Hurry up, you stupid fucking thing!”

Dodge ran down the hall toward us.

Dodge glanced my way, then at Dexter. “Look, Dexter. The guy said something about meeting up with Samantha at Treasure Island in thirty minutes. I want you to go to the warehouse. It’s on the opposite side of town. If for some reason you miss him or he’s not there, I don’t want to leave Treasure Island uncovered.”

“Are you going to tell Samantha he called?”

He looked at me and frowned. “I
don’t
want her involved in this unless I absolutely have to. He’s never seen her, so if I need to, I’ll get a policewoman in street clothes to come with me to Treasure Island.”

“Okay, I’ll call you from the warehouse.”

Dodge and Dexter went into the elevator. I rode down with them. When we exited the hotel, there were at least five patrol cars pulling up to it.

Dodge went immediately to the sheriff. I got in a cab with a thin, tall, edgy woman who was headed down the Strip. Next stop – Treasure Island. I might be safe from the killer, but Dodge wasn’t.

I heard him yelling as my cab pulled away from the hotel. Ten minutes later, the lady got out at the Venetian Casino. It was cattycorner to Treasure Island, so I got out with her.

The streets were packed with people. I wandered around and through them, whatever worked best. Within a few minutes I stood in front of Treasure Island where people got ready to watch the next pirate show. I had seen it a few times. I even rode with the pirates once. However, I wasn’t here to see the show, just find a killer. The entire section was packed with people, jostling each other for a better spot to watch the battle.

I wasn’t sure exactly what I would do. I still had twenty minutes before I needed to be here and that was the exact time the show would start. People would be focused on the two ships. It was a great time for the killer to slip in unnoticed, but not if he dragged Marge along.

I became aware of him just as the first ship came in sight and felt him sense me, too.

“Hello, Samantha.”

“Hello, James. Did you bring Marge with you?”

“No, I left her at the warehouse. I left the cell phone there, too. I knew the cops would trace it and get the address of the warehouse.” Then he laughed. “I left them a little surprise. They should be getting it in just a few minutes.”

“An explosion?”

“A big one, with a fireball to follow. You’re a very smart woman, Samantha.”

I thought of Dexter and the rest of the cops busting into the warehouse and the explosion and chaos that would follow.

“Oh, don’t worry about them. It will be very quick.”

This man could read my every thought. I did the only thing I could think of, I stole an idea from Dodge.

Immediately, I started singing the Star Spangled Banner.

“What are you doing?” James asked.

I kept singing and ran away from the crowd and the killer.

“Samantha, where are you?” James yelled.

There was no way I could get to the warehouse in a few minutes, even if I could find a cab that was going in that direction. The Strip was just too crowded with taxis and pedestrians. I only had one choice, so I took off running.

Ghosts don’t get tired, so that wasn’t going to be a problem. Did I have enough time to get there? Could I even find the warehouse when I got to the airport? Dexter might not have the best timing, always interrupting me and Dodge, but the last thing I wanted was for him to be blown up, or Marge, either. I ran like a football lineman through the crowds all the while wondering where the warehouse was and what Dexter was doing at this exact moment. Was he opening the door? Was he stepping inside?

A strange sensation wafted over my body. I was suddenly nauseated as if I’d ridden a rollercoaster ten times straight without stopping. The world went black.

Chapter 24

I seemed to be back in my hospital room. My stomach rolled over and over and my head pounded. I hadn’t been this sick since my twenty-first birthday when I had drunk an entire bottle of tequila, one shot at a time. Uncle George and Jed stood next to my bed, along with a man in a white lab coat. I was exhausted, but this was not the time to take a nap and have a dream. Dexter and Marge were in trouble. Dodge raced toward a serial killer. Where was I? Was I lying in the middle of the sidewalk in Vegas, asleep again?

No! I needed to wake up and finish running down the Strip.

Then I stood next to Dexter. The nausea had worsened and I felt like I would lose my last meal, even if that wasn’t exactly possible. My head pounded as if it would explode and my legs trembled.

Dexter was reaching for the doorknob.

“No!” I shouted. I got in front of him and used both hands to push him away from the door.

Dexter pulled his hand back and looked around.

“What?” said a patrolman standing next to Dexter. He was dressed in a black policeman’s uniform and carried some kind of plastic shield

“I don’t know,” Dexter said. “Do a perimeter search before we barge through this door.”

I took a deep breath, trying desperately to settle my stomach and still my legs. I ran through the door and into the warehouse. It was a huge cement building with high ceilings exposing metal rafters. Two rollup doors in the back were secured with metal chains and large padlocks. It was totally empty. I glanced back at the door. Wires had been wrapped around the doorknob and attached to a box on the floor. I wouldn’t know how to disarm a bomb if my life depended on it, so pulling a random wire was out of the question. The best I could do would be to put something in front of the door that might slow Dexter and the other cops down.

I looked around for something to brace against the door, but the warehouse was just a big empty building. Then I saw a door on the right labeled Office. I should be able to find something in there. I ran toward it.

When I passed through the door, Marge sat in a folding chair in the otherwise vacant room. She was unconscious, gagged with a rag, her hands and feet tied with rope. I needed the damn chair, so I tilted it and she fell to the ground. She moaned but I didn’t stick around to help her. I picked up the chair and took off running back to the door where Dexter and the other cops waited. I jammed the top of the folding chair under the doorknob.

I stuck my head through the door.

Dexter turned the doorknob and pushed on the door. I reached out and shoved him back again.

“What the hell?” he said, looking around, obviously trying to figure out what was happening. Then he said, “There’s something wrong. Is there another way into this warehouse?”

“No,” said a voice in his ear loud enough for me to hear. “The perimeter search showed only one way in and one way out of this place.”

“Okay then, we need something to bust down this door.”

The policeman behind him said, “We have a battering ram in our truck.”

“Perfect,” Dexter said. “Go and get it.”

The policeman took off and I ran back to Marge. She was conscious, and scraping the ropes that bound her hands across the floor, trying to get them off. How could I help her? I reached under her body, flipped her over so I could see the knots, and started to work on them. Every time she tried to turn over, I flipped her back. It was a good thing her hands and feet were tied together or I wouldn’t have been able to move her so easily. She outweighed me by thirty pounds and could probably kick my ass if she was loose.

A few seconds later, I was able to untie the knot on her hands. She pulled them free immediately. When she sat up, she looked around, then quickly untied her feet. She rubbed her wrists and ankles, then stood and stretched her back out straight. Then she went running out of the office. I followed her.

She ran directly to the door and yanked two wires from the box on the floor just as the door shattered and Dexter burst in.

She slugged him and he went down.

Several other policemen ran in behind him.

They drew their guns on Marge.

“Put those stupid guns away, you idiots!” she yelled. “I’m the hostage!”

“Then why’d you hit Sergeant Dexter?” one of them asked.

Dexter sat on the floor, holding his jaw, “Yeah, why’d you hit me? I came here to rescue you.”

“Because you didn’t check for booby traps on the door and almost got us blown up, that’s why.”

Marge extended her hand.

Dexter took it and she helped him up.

I followed them as they walked out of the warehouse together.

“Did you get a look at who took you?” Dexter asked.

“It was that weakly little Matthew Menders.”

“The ex-priest turned security guard?”

“Yes, he’s not as weak as he looks.”

“He’s our killer?”

“If he isn’t, he’s working with him.”

“Let’s give Dodge a call,” Dexter said.

“Good idea.”

Dexter called Dodge and relayed the information. Then he said, “Marge and I will head back to the hotel and see if we can get a line on Menders.” He tapped his phone and turned to Marge. “It’s lucky I didn’t open the door when I first got here.”

“What stopped you?” Marge asked.

“I don’t know.” Dexter shrugged. “I’m surprised he didn’t have you tied up in there.”

“He did.”

“How’d you get your ropes untied?” Dexter asked.

“I don’t know. It was the weirdest thing.”

I left the two of them comparing notes on the strangeness of the evening. There was still a killer to catch and Dodge was probably at Treasure Island searching for him. As I walked down the Strip toward Treasure Island, I wondered how I’d gotten to the warehouse. I remembered running, then dreaming about my hospital room, and then being at the warehouse. Was it possible that I could go anywhere just by thinking it? I was a ghost after all. Shouldn’t I be able to just disappear and reappear someplace else? That was an intriguing thought.

I concentrated on Dodge. I pictured his face in my mind, his voice, and his moves. A few seconds later I was next to him. The pirate show was over and people were moving away. I crumbled to the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Dodge reached down and picked me up.

I put both hands on my head. The pain was so intense, I couldn’t speak.

“Samantha? What’s wrong?” Dodge asked again.

People looked at him.

He smiled and pointed to his ear. “Cell phone, sorry.”

“Samantha, you’re back,” the killer murmured in my mind. “What’s the matter? Are you sick?”

“I’ve got a headache,” I said to both men.

Dodge started to speak again, but I put my hand over his mouth.

“I’m sorry I had to go, James,” I said to the killer. “I needed to save Marge and Dexter.”

“What!” I felt his anger like a blast of air.

“Sorry, they’re fine. No explosion, no fireball, nothing.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, his voice changing from anger to exasperation.

“That’s not all. They know who you are.”

“No way, couldn’t be.”

“Yes, Matthew Menders, they do.”

“How? How did they find out?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Marge is alive. She knows who kidnapped her. Why don’t you give yourself up?” I said.

“I have to fulfill my calling.”

“I’m afraid not, Matthew.”

There were too many people around and Dodge stood next to me. Matthew wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone in his way. I was expendable, Dodge was not. I had to get him away from here.

Dodge glanced around and mouthed, “Where?”

There would be time for me to get away from Matthew later. I nodded to the right and Dodge took off running.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, Samantha. I just want you,” Matthew growled.

“Don’t be upset if I don’t exactly trust you, Matthew,” I told him.

I felt an arm go around my neck. He whispered into my ear, “You’ll be my ticket out of here, Samantha.”

Why is it nothing ever goes the way you plan it? For once since I’ve been dead, I wanted to be able to just move through someone. Just let his arm go right through my neck. He tightened his grip and I started to cough. A coughing ghost? Okay, this might be funny but he was crushing my throat and it hurt like hell.

“Hold still, Samantha!” he yelled and pulled me tighter.

The people around us stared at him and pointed. He thought it was because he had his arm around me, but actually the people couldn’t see me. What they could see was a man holding a gun and screaming at them. They quickly moved away.

“I’m going to release my grip on your neck, Samantha, but I’ve got a gun pointed into your back and I’ll pull the trigger if I have to.”

I could feel the gun, and while his shooting me wouldn’t pose a problem to me, the bullet would go right through and would probably hit someone else. I played along. “I feel the gun. I promise not to move. Let’s just get out of this crowd.”

“Those are my sentiments exactly, Samantha.” Matthew grabbed my right arm and led me up the street.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He never got to answer the question because just then Dodge stepped from behind a group of people, about five feet in front of us. “It’s all over, Menders,” he said.

“No, Samantha’s escorting me out of here.”

Matthew was barely five feet tall so he had to keep dodging his head back and forth around me to speak to Dodge. I wondered how he was able to strangle Marge and those other women. Wasn’t he too short to reach up from behind and strangle them?  Maybe he strangled them when they were sitting down or something? I shook my head, bringing myself back to the situation at hand. What the hell was happening to me? My mind seemed to be fading away as quickly as my body was.

Dodge looked at me and I said, “He’s got a gun in my back, Dodge.”

“I can see that,” Dodge said and pulled his own.

“Wait just a minute,” Matthew screamed. “You’re going to get this lady killed.”

I heard someone in the crowd say, “What lady?”

Dodge smiled, obviously hearing the comment, then aimed the gun directly at Matthew. “It’s time to give up, Menders.”

“I’ll pull the trigger, Inspector. I’m not bluffing.”

“Go ahead, Menders.”

“What?” he asked, the confusion evident in his voice. “You want me to shoot your girlfriend?”

“I said, go ahead and shoot her. I was done with her anyway.”

“Fine, if that’s the way you want it,” Matthew put the gun to my temple.

“You’re going to let this maniac shoot me?” I teased Dodge. I needed him to shoot through me, so the bullet would lodge in Matthew rather than strike someone in the crowd watching us, so I continued, “Personally, I’d rather be shot by you. At least I’d see it coming and the bullet wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, do it!”

Dodge aimed his gun at my chest. “Last chance, Menders. If you don’t give up, I’m going to shoot Samantha and then you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Matthew said.

“Sure, I would,” Dodge said.

Matthew swung the gun down from my head and pointed it at Dodge. Dodge reacted to the movement immediately; he fired. The bullet went right through my chest and into Matthew.

He fell to the ground. I stepped to the side. Dodge came running over to me and touched my arm. “Okay?”

“Of course.”

“How?” Matthew looked up from the ground. He held his chest but it didn’t stop the blood from pouring out.

I pointed to myself. “I’m an angel, Matthew. God never sent you. He sent me to stop you.”

“No!” Matthew cried out.

I glanced at Dodge. “I’m going back to the hotel. Think you can take it from here?”

Dodge saluted me. “Yes, angel. Thanks for your help.”

I rolled my eyes and turned to leave just as Dexter and Marge rushed up. Dodge used his phone to call an ambulance for Matthew.

I left the three of them standing over Matthew. It was over. The killer was caught. I went back to Dodge’s hotel room, lay down and fell asleep. Within minutes I was back in my hospital room. Uncle George and Jed stood next to my bed with the doctor.

“Okay, are we ready to do this after the weekend, on Monday?” the doctor asked.

“No.” Uncle George shook his head, tears streamed down his face.

Jed rubbed his own eyes, then patted Uncle George on the back. “You know it’s for the best, Dad. She wouldn’t like living like this.”

“I know, but maybe if we give it a little more time, she’ll come around.”