Raintree: Haunted (Raintree 2)

Crap, she looked solid and real. Did that mean she would stick around for a while? Did that mean she was going to be everywhere he turned? He’d been sending sad spirits on for years, but he’d never gotten himself stuck with a malevolent ghost.

The ghost stopped waving, turned and walked toward the stairs. She actually wove around the party guests, as if she was afraid she would bump into them. Did Tabby think she was still alive? Gideon stopped, his feet digging into the sand, and waited for her. Somehow he was going to have to get rid of her once and for all, but he had no idea how to send on a dark spirit who didn’t want to leave.

Tabby walked toward him, smiling that sick, confident smile of hers. If Lily Clark had been able to affect this world, what could a spirit as dark as Tabby’s do? He knew how to handle sad spirits and monstrous bad guys, but this was a new situation, one he didn’t know how to handle.

As she moved closer, Gideon got a sick feeling in his stomach. Tabby looked too real, too solid. Her feet left impressions in the sand.

This was no ghost.

She pulled a small revolver from her pocket. The knife she preferred was locked away in evidence, but she seemed familiar enough with the gun. “Surprised to see me?”

“Yeah. I heard you were dead.”

“Not really. I just appeared to be for a while. Imagine the coroner’s surprise when he goes to the morgue to perform an autopsy and finds the body missing.”

“Where’s the bomb?”

Tabby nodded toward the deck. “Right up there with the dancers. Waiting.”

He didn’t think she was bluffing. She took too much pleasure from the pain of others not to take advantage of the opportunity. “Waiting for how long?”

“Not long.”

Gideon had left his weapon sitting on the dresser, so he was basically a sitting duck. He didn’t wear his weapon when he walked on the beach, or when he sat on the deck at the end of the day and listened to the waves, or when he met the night storms and traded energy. He didn’t want to get to the point where he was always on guard, always waiting for someone like Tabby to come along.

“You could shock me again, I guess,” she said. “But how will you explain that to the people who are watching? And they are watching, Raintree. They’re curious and bored, and that one blonde, she really wants you to jump her bones. She’ll settle for any other man who comes along, for the time being, but she really wants you. She’s sad that your new partner has been hanging around so much. Sad and jealous, spiteful

and envious.”

“What do you want?”

Tabby cocked her head. “I want the same thing your neighbor wants, but in a very different way.” She lifted her weapon and fired. Gideon saw the move coming and jumped to the side. A bullet creased his shoulder before he landed hard and rolled through the sand. His shoulder stung, but he was able to rise to his feet and run. He didn’t run away from Tabby but toward her. She aimed the gun again.

He had to get close enough to shock and incapacitate her without creating a light show that would have everyone on the beach and on Honey’s deck pointing at him. It was risky not to immediately take his shot, but he had to believe that his protection charm would give him an edge, as it always did. A few feet closer and he would be able to stop her without revealing his ability to those who were watching. Another step or two…

“Gideon!”

He and Tabby both turned sharply toward the sound. Hope was bounding from the boardwalk onto the sand, her long legs bare beneath one of his T-shirts. The gun was steady in her hand. “Drop it!” she ordered.

Tabby spun, took aim and fired in anger. Not at Gideon this time, but at Hope. Hope didn’t fall; she fired back. Twice. It was Tabby who dropped onto the sand, one shot to the forehead, the other to the dead center of her chest. Gideon rushed forward and moved the revolver Tabby had dropped when she fell, tossing it away from the body as Hope reached them.

“Come back from that, bitch,” Hope said softly. Then she looked at Gideon and said, with less venom, “You’re bleeding.”

Gideon turned and ran. “The bomb’s on Honey’s deck.”

Hope was right behind him. “I’ll call the bomb squad.”

“No time.”

Gideon ran up the deck stairs that led to the party. The music was still playing loudly, but there was no more laughter or dancing. The guests were somber; none of them had ever seen anyone shot before.

“I called the cops,” one young guy said.

“Good,” Gideon replied. He found Honey in the crowd. “That woman, did she leave anything up here?”

“Like what? She said she was a friend of yours, and that you’d come over later. What was she—”

“Did she leave anything here?” Gideon repeated more tersely.