Lily glanced toward Randy. “Does what we’re doing count as evil?”
Shay shrugged. “Sometimes there is a very fine line. I’m trying to cut down on the number of people I might have to shoot. Whoever’s keeping track has to give us points for that.”
Lily eyed the ring. “And you’re sure it’s safe?”
“It’s just going to help us make our thoughts visible. I’d love to have it all the time, but Tubal-Cain looked like he was going to go full Rumpelstiltskin on me and demand my firstborn if I asked for them for more than a couple days. That gnome is useful, but I don’t trust him.”
Lily snickered and slipped it on, and Shay slipped on a second ring. It was warm to the touch.
The tomb raider marched over to the bed and stared down at Randy. “Wake up, asshole.”
He muttered something in his sleep and rolled to his other side.
“I said, wake up, asshole,” Shay repeated, this time louder.
Randy’s eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at the masked Shay. After a few seconds, he blinked, and his eyes widened.
“Shit.”
Shay patted her thigh with her gun. “Just to get this out of the way… Even though I really want to, I don’t plan on killing you. If I did, you’d already be dead. You would have never woken up.”
Randy’s gaze cut between Shay and Lily. “Then why bring the gun?”
“Because it’ll keep your attention on me and help persuade you not to do anything stupid that might increase the chance that I actually have to kill you.”
“Stupid like what?” Randy frowned but kept his gaze locked on Shay’s masked face.
Shay had to admire the man’s calm demeanor under pressure.
“Call the cops or security or anything like that. Standard stupid shit.”
Randy nodded. “You’ve got my attention. So, you’re here to rob me? You want safe codes or something like that?”
Shay snorted. “Please. I make a lot of money, asshole, and I doubt you even have anything worth stealing. I don’t need your crappy paintings or second-rate vases. I’m sure half of them are fakes anyway.”
The man’s face twisted in indignation. Shay almost laughed, and Lily didn’t hold back her snort. Peyton’s brother was more irritated that she’d challenged his wealth than that she stood at his bedside with a gun. Such great priorities.
Randy crossed his arms over his chest. “If you’re not here to kill me, and you’re not here to rob me, why are you here?”
“To give you a glimpse into the past, present, and future. To let you understand that your present path will lead to ruin. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll heed my warning and change your life before it’s too late.”
Randy frowned, again looking between the intruders. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Tension suffused Shay’s muscles. Not being able to take care of the problem with brute force or skillful hacking made everything difficult. It was time for a little old-fashioned psychological manipulation. She needed Randy to accept that what he was doing would be a disaster, but she also needed to provide a reason to believe that her proposed solution would work. That required a little priming.
Even the rings, which would project images from their minds, wouldn’t help if Randy didn’t think Lily could see the future.
Of course, she could. The problem was she could only see fifteen minutes into the future. Not that their mark needed to know that.
Time to see how useful you are, Tubal-Cain.
Shay mentally envisioned the activation glyph for the ring.
A ghostly image of Peyton winked into existence just above Randy’s bed. The ghost Peyton lay in a pool of his own blood, and crimson covered his face from the bullet wound in his forehead.
Randy scurried backward, hissing.
Damn, that looks realistic. I did a good job of faking his death the first time. Maybe I missed my calling as a special-effects make-up artist.
“That’s nasty,” Lily murmured.
“Don’t worry.” Shay chuckled. “You know how this goes, right, Randy?”
“My name is Randall.”
“Sure, whatever, Randy. The point is, don’t worry. You can see the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, but you can’t touch them.”
Randy snorted. “You’re supposed to be the Ghost of Christmas Past? Please.”
Shay shook her head. “Nah. We’re more like Jacob Marley.” She pointed toward the image of Peyton. “That’s the ghost.”
“What’s the point of this?” Randy spat.
“I already explained. It’s about making you see the error of your ways, so we need to start with the past, Randy. Can’t understand the future without understanding the past and the present, right?”
“What’s the point of showing me my dead brother?” His voice quivered at the word dead.
Yeah, thanks for confirming it.
Shay leaned forward and snorted. “There’s something there you don’t believe.”
Randy gritted his teeth and looked away. “Screw you.”
“Sorry, not my type, asshole.”
His hands clenched into fists. “That’s what you are? Some thugs my brother hired in revenge?” He snorted. “I’m surprised he finally gathered his balls.”
“That’s strange. I thought you just said your brother was dead.”
“Bullshit he’s dead. I know his death was faked.” Randy sneered. “You know what? I’m not begging you.” He pointed at Lily. “Or you.”
“Aw, but begging’s fun to hear,” Lily goaded.
“Screw you both. I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve only protected my interests and my rights.”
Shay barked out a laugh. “Seriously? I think hiring a man to kill your brother ranks pretty high up there on the Naughty List. You’ve got a seriously skewed perspective on life there, Randy.”
“Why come here and do any of this? All you’ve done is confirm Peyton’s alive. If this was some brilliant plan to convince me otherwise, it’s failed horribly.”
“No. Peyton Coolidge is dead.” Shay pointed to the image. “He died that day. Problem is a certain someone won’t stop coming after him, so we’ve come to show you, Randy Scrooge, where you’re gonna end up if you keep chasing a ghost.”
A quick mental conjuring of another
