Her heart clenched at the thought. “Did you hear anything?”
He disappeared from the tree and reappeared beside her. “Tell me how I find my momma. I miss her no matter how many times she yelled at me to clean my room.”
“Most kids get yelled at. It doesn’t mean their parents don’t love them.”
He lowered his head. “I was unruly. Bad. Maybe I don’t deserve to be with them.”
“Adam. Most people stay until they resolve their unfinished business. Tell me what yours is, and I can help you.”
“I just want my momma,” he said.
“I can help you see her again if you just talk to me.”
“No!” Adam yelled and reappeared up in the tree.
That one word summed up Ryley’s week. She’d been an unruly child until her father’s fist had broken her from talking back. She’d missed her mom too, after her death.
“I’m not going to give up on you,” she called out.
“I don’t want you here. I don’t want your help. I don’t want anything but for my life to go back the way it was before they were taken away.”
“You don’t belong here. Your mother is waiting for you in the light.”
Adam vanished out of sight.
Adam Bell was still angry, and she couldn’t blame him. Ryley was angry too. Would she still be one of the spirits hanging around with unfinished business, looking for someone else who might could see her? If she ended up dead, she had only one goal in mind. She’d haunt her father until she drove him insane.
Chapter 38
Ryley drove to the Lynch home, surprised there was no guard, and the gate had been left open. An additional car was in the driveway. One she didn’t recognize. One that didn’t belong. It was an older car needing a paint job. She parked behind it and walked by. It was littered with fast food bags and old soda bottles.
Ryley strolled up to the door. When it flew open, she came face to face with Samantha, the volunteer from the food kitchen. Samantha had been glancing over her shoulder as she rushed out the door. “No more. I told you.”
She’d almost run into Ryley on the porch.
The girl's eyes widened. The color drained from her face. She clutched the backpack tighter against her chest.
The backpack was identical to the one Ryley had found in Kitty’s apartment.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Ryley said.
“Just another week,” Phillip called out before he yanked the door open further. “Samantha, we aren’t done.”
“Yes, we are,” she said and jogged to her car.
Phillip tugged at his shirt in an adult-ish move. He ran his hand over his head. “Are you here for my father or for Dr. Crews?”
“Is Rosalind here?” Ryley asked, trying to hide the confusion.
“Yes. They both are.” Phillip pulled the door open further for Ryley to enter, his gaze still on the car retreating down the road.
“Samantha works at the food bank, right?”
Phillip nodded. “Yes, she volunteered with my mom. We’ve both been volunteering since our soccer coach made us when we were kids.”
“I didn’t know you played soccer.”
Phillip gestured to the sitting room and glanced down at her tennis shoes. “Why would you know? You aren’t friends with my parents.”
He had a point. She wasn’t friends with them. She gestured to her shoulder. “Was soccer where you got the backpacks with your names on them?”
“Yes. My parents sponsored my team. Coach Cantina ordered the same for everyone.”
“Wait. Cantina was your coach?”
Phillip frowned. “Dr. Crews is with my father in my mother’s art room. Last I saw they were talking about redecorating the place.”
Ryley’s eyes widened. That was the worst idea anyone could have. As long as Kitty resisted going into the light, changing her studio guaranteed there’d be hell to pay. “Do you mind? I know my way.”
He moved and gestured with his hands. “What do I care? Maybe you’ll catch them making out and tell them it’s disgusting.”
Ryley hurried out of the room and through the kitchen to the back patio. She pulled the door open to the art room to find it empty.
She stepped inside, and the surrounding air turned cold. She was in the right place. Ryley moved farther into the room. “Kitty, I know you’re in here.”
A painting was on the easel. One that wasn’t before.
The painting was of a woman in a tub fully clothed. Her wrists were hanging over. Her head slumped to one side. The picture was haunting. Not because it was Kitty, but because it was Rosalind. Ryley would know that bracelet anywhere. She’d spent hours in therapy staring at the bracelet.
Ryley pulled out her phone and dialed Rosalind’s number. Ringing sounded from across the room behind a closed door. Ryley sent a text to Crews to tell him where she was. She pulled the Taser out of her bag and turned it on.
She crept across the room and turned the knob. The door creaked as she opened it.
There was a split moment where she could only see Rosalind’s wrist and fear like no other had overcome her. The air around her chilled more.
She shoved the door open. Christopher was with her. He was slumped over in the corner. His hands were tied to a pipe. A needle was sticking out of his neck. The putty knife lay at his hands.
Ryley called 911 and hurried inside. She crouched down next to the tub. The water was still clear. There were no cuts on her wrists, but Rosalind was out cold.
“Murder-suicide. Isn’t that what they call it?” Phillip asked from the doorway.
Ryley spun to his voice. The gun clutched in his hand was pointed directly at her.
“Why did you kill your mother?”
Chapter 39
Phillip's eyes flashed with regret and then with anger. “She wanted to move. She wanted to have another baby with my coach even after she found out Coach was cheating on her. Samantha seduced him, and my mom didn’t even care. Coach gave
