women…”
He rocked now with his eyes closed. “Time and again I tried to end it…take my own life, but he always found a way to stop me. And then one day I realized that even if I managed to kill myself, he would have been waiting on the other side…binding me to him for all eternity…” His breath caught on a little sob, and in spite of everything, I felt a rush of pity because I knew he spoke the truth. He had been driven to the very brink of madness by Clayton’s ghost.
He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “But it’s all right now because I know now how to finally end it. Every last obstacle has been removed.”
“Camille…?”
He drew a shaky breath. “I didn’t want that. If there’d been any other way…”
“I thought you’d caught something with your camera that day, but you were never a threat. It was Camille. She saw me on the path one night coming back from Oak Grove. I told her I was researching my book, but she was too smart for her own good and started asking questions. If she could have just left well enough alone for a little while longer, it wouldn’t have mattered. She could have gone to the police, told them what she suspected and I would have still been free of Clayton forever.”
“How…?”
“By allowing him to come to you, Amelia.”
An icy shiver went through me.
“After tonight it wouldn’t have mattered,” he repeated sadly.
And then I understood. The moment Clayton’s ghost latched onto me, Daniel planned to kill himself. It was the only way he could be free of his ghost. For all eternity.
“Sleep now,” he said softly. “It’ll soon be over.”
Forty-One
I woke up with the taste of vomit in my mouth and the smell of decay in my nostrils. The surface beneath me was cold and rough, and something cut into my cheek so I tried to lift my head. A wave of nausea rolled over me and I retched violently.
Collapsing back to the floor, I lay perfectly still until my head began to clear. Bits and pieces came back to me. Daniel Meakin had been in my house. He’d confessed to killing Clayton Masterson. What was it Ethan had said about the murder? At least seven major stab wounds. It was a vicious kill.
He’d tried to free himself of his tormentor, only to find he was still bound to Clayton’s ghost. Now he meant to lure Clayton to me.
Stumbling to my feet, I shuffled forward until I felt the wall. It was damp and slimy, like the walls in the chamber below Oak Grove.
I reached down and patted my pocket, surprised to find he’d left my cell phone on me. Why wouldn’t he? There was no signal down here, no way of calling for help. At least the display offered some illumination and maybe that was his intention. I’d gotten the impression he wanted me to think kindly of him. It was important to him that I understand his motivation.
I did understand. But I couldn’t condone or forgive.
Holding the light up, I inspected my prison. Ancient, brick walls. Thick, drapey cobwebs. I had a feeling I was deep, deep underground, in an undiscovered part of the tunnel, but unlike before, I saw no opening, no door, no way out. Nothing but solid brick.
How could that be? He’d put me in here. There had to be a way out.
Unless the wall had been sealed behind me…
A scream welled in my throat, but I pushed it back down. I couldn’t panic. I couldn’t lose my focus or I would be doomed.
I walked the room again and again, tearing through the sticky webs and prying at bricks until my fingers were raw and bleeding.
Exhausted, I sank to the floor and buried my head in my hands. How would anyone know to look for me here behind a solid wall?
As I sat there, I felt a cold presence. Something stirred my hair, skimmed the back of my neck. Tugged at my hand…
My head came up in panic and I lifted the cell phone, but I could see nothing in the gloom.
Was Clayton already here? Terror washed over me and I scooted back against the wall, my eyes wide and searching.
After a moment, the coldness faded and I told myself I’d imagined it. I was still suffering some of the aftereffects of the drugs he’d put in my tea. He must have been observing me for some time to know my habits well enough to predict I would have a cup when I came home. Maybe he had peepholes in Macon’s apartment through which he’d been watching me.
I shivered and wrapped my arms around my middle. I was cold, scared and so very lost. I thought about Mama and Papa and Devlin. All the people I cared about. Would I ever see any of them again?
At some point, I must have dozed off, because I saw myself fleeing down an endless tunnel where hands reached through walls to grab me. I ran through rooms of hanging corpses, ghosts floating at my heels, and somewhere in the distance, always just beyond me, I could hear Devlin’s voice calling out to me.
But it wasn’t Devlin who guided me. It was Shani.
She tugged on my hand, urging me forward. Then, just ahead of us, I saw the ghost of Robert Fremont. He hovered beyond the hanging corpses, waiting for us. As we made our way to him, he turned and disappeared through the wall.
I could hear footsteps behind us and the sound of dragging chains. Tearing my way through the cobwebs, I closed my eyes and followed Fremont through the wall. I looked down at my hand. Shani was gone. For some reason, she hadn’t come through the wall with me. I wanted to go back for her, but the wall was solid now. I’d lost her….
With a start, I lifted my head and gazed around. I was alone in the chamber, but for a moment, I’d felt their presence so strongly…
Struggling to my feet, I walked over to the wall where I had seen Fremont disappear in my dream. I held up the cell phone and scrutinized every inch of the wall, finding nothing but badly crumbling mortar.
And then I saw it. My way out.
If a fly had led Devlin and me to that first hidden chamber, another would show me the way out of this one.
I would never have noticed the crack in the wall if not for the iridescent glint of a fly slipping through a tiny hole in the mortar. I traced the fracture with my fingertip.
It was a door of sorts, cut so that the bricks matched up perfectly when fitted into place. Setting aside the phone, I pressed with my hands, then leaned a shoulder against the bricks. Finally, I dropped to the floor and kicked as hard as I could until the panel fell away, revealing another chamber.
The smell of putrefaction rolled out of that opening, along with a black cloud of buzzing flies.
They lit on my arms, my face, my lips. I swatted them away and, pulling my shirt up over my mouth and nose, inched up to the hole with the light. The smell was definitely coming from inside. I gagged and rocked back on my heels, shuddering at what must lie beyond.
Bodies. The ones Daniel hadn’t had time to bury.
How many? I wondered.
Ignoring the crawl of tiny legs in my hair, I swung the cell phone light into the opening. More brick walls.
