“Boarding school. He was a troubled child growing up, always getting expelled and in trouble and acting out.”
Well, it didn’t look like it helped.
“So, with Phillip gone and you always at work, I can see where she might have been lonely and wanted to get out of the house.”
The chill around Ryley grew, and she ignored it.
“Yes, well. Even that didn’t help. It wasn’t until a few months back when the smile returned to her face. It just so happens to be when she was working late and getting late-night phone calls.”
Ryley couldn’t hold back anymore. “Late-night phone calls from whom?”
He signed. “She wouldn’t say, and when she did, it was always an excuse.”
“You believe she was cheating on you?”
“I don’t believe she was. I know she was,” Christopher said.
“Show her.” Rosalind prodded his arm.
Frowning, Christopher pushed a manila envelope across the table that separated them. “I have proof.”
Ryley picked it up and opened it. In the first picture was Kitty in living color and not her ghostly form. She was in a man’s embrace and in a heated kiss outside a hotel room door.
“You had someone following her?” Ryley asked.
He nodded. “I had to know.”
Ryley flipped through the rest and came across the last photo of Kitty, leaning against her sports car and the man from the hotel caressing her face. It wasn’t the picture that interested her. It was the angle at which it was taken. The driver’s side mirror got a close up of the man in the car taking the picture. Logan Bane had been the private investigator.
“Can I keep these?”
“Yes, the originals were emailed,” Christopher said.
Ryley bet they were. “Did you show them to the police?”
“Yes.” Christopher swallowed hard. “They said it’s a suicide, and there is nothing they can do.”
The hair rose on Ryley’s arms, like she’d just gotten an electric shock. Kitty might not be materializing for Ryley to see, but she was making her presence known. And not so subtly. She shifted on the beige sofa, shying away from the odd sensation of Kitty being in the room without being visible. This was new territory for Ryley.
“Are you sure it wasn’t?” She had to figure out what, if any, of this she could use to get Kitty to move on. Was this why she was lingering? And why the heck was she attacking Rosalind? Would finding her killer help her move on or understand why she was haunting the doctor? Was it possible she really had taken her own life?
“She would never abandon her son like that,” Christopher said.
Ryley looked at Rosalind, who was checking out her fingernails. She wouldn’t be getting any help from the doc, which was a little off. “Excuse me, but didn’t you two send him to boarding school?” Ryley challenged
Christopher’s jaw tensed. “We did that so he’d learn some manners. Besides, Phillip is the beneficiary of her life insurance. She removed me from it a few years ago. Probably when I was working so much and she believed I neglected her. But she had to know they won’t payout if it’s ruled a suicide.”
Money. Not love. That’s why Ryley was here. How much was the death benefit? What was the price of a woman’s life?
“Where did Kitty… where did it happen?”
Christopher’s phone rang. “Rosalind, can you show Ryley the studio? I’ve got to take this.”
“Of course.”
Ryley followed Rosalind through the mausoleum of a house and out the back doors off the kitchen. An obscenely large pool stood with a pool house next to it.
Rosalind walked to the doors and pushed it open.
The open-concept house had a kitchen and living area. Rosalind moved across the space toward a wooden door. She threw it open and stepped inside. A partially sheet-covered canvas sat on an easel. Finished paintings were leaning against the walls. The entity who’d been dogging her steps since she’d arrived crowded closer. Ryley could swear she could see her breath.
Rosalind didn’t seem to feel it as she gestured toward the bathroom door. An antique clawfoot tub sitting inside. “She was found in the bathtub. Both of her wrists were slit, and they found the knife she used at the bottom of the tub when they drained it.”
“Rosalind…” Ryley’s shoulders deflated.
“I know, but she didn’t do it,” Rosalind said.
Ryley turned to her. “Why do you think she didn’t? Give me one good reason.”
“If she wanted to just die to leave her life, why in the world is she still sticking around? Please, Ryley. You have to help us get to the truth. Talk to Kitty and find out what really happened.”
“What if it’s something you don’t want to hear?” Ryley glanced out the window toward the house. “What if Christopher is responsible?”
The door to the room they were in slammed shut, making Rosalind jump and Ryley’s heart race.
“See! She’s still here,” Rosalind whispered.
Ryley yanked open the door and gestured for Rosalind to leave. “I’ll meet you back inside.”
Rosalind didn’t argue. She didn’t wait. The doc just sprinted out the door and around the pool toward the house.
Ryley glanced at her watch and moved back inside the room with the paintings.
“I know you’re here,” she called out, a small white puff of air punctuating her words.
Ryley lifted the sheet on the painting when she felt the rush of cold air blow through her in a blur of movement.
Ryley lowered the sheet. “Fine, I won’t peek. Not yet.”
The early evening light was waning. The moon rose higher, thrusting the room into that eerie twilight space, where the veil between the worlds was thinnest.
“Why are you here?” Ryley whispered.
She moved around the room, glancing from one painting to the next. There was a progression in Kitty’s paintings—something about the colors or the subject that had changed from light to a much darker mood.
Ryley stepped into the bathroom and froze. The room reverted to another time. There was sunlight shining in from the skylight down on the tub where Kitty’s dead body was lying in a pool of blood.
