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My own questions rose, followed by frustration. He seemed to know about as much as we did, which was jack shit. “Is there anything else you can show me that can help? Your daughter wants to find out who did this to you.”
Shadows formed in his eyes as he shook his head.
My heart wrenched over the depth of sadness prevalent on his ghostly features. If I could see his emotions as clearly as I did in his current condition, they were raw and intense. And this was exactly why I tried to keep my distance from ghosts, their pain and dismay always sucked in me.
Gretchen took a step forward and her voice softened. “I promise I’ll do my best to break the spell, Alexander, so you can move on.”
He nodded with conviction.
“He likes that idea,” I told Gretchen.
Alexander smiled, staring at me with a fierce look, as if he had no doubt we could help him. Since I didn’t make the offer to help and I’d never met him, this seemed odd. The hair on my neck stood up in warning. “Um…do you know me?”
His knowing eyes said it all.
Bizarre.
Without the chance to press him further, his presence began to fade. “Oh, I think he’s leaving now.”
Before my eyes, his shadowy form flickered back into light until all that remained was the orb, floating within the dark sky. When the light vanished, I turned to Gretchen. “He’s gone.”
“I suspect the power he gains from the magnetic fields can only be held for so long.” She angled her flashlight up to show her face, and her gaze was concerned. “This is bad.”
“When did you get your first clue?” I snapped, totally understanding where she was going with this. “Bad is a dead man. A shit storm of trouble is that someone used magic on him.” Even I saw what that meant—only certain people would know of that spell. “How well do you know the members of Animus?”
“Very well.” Her voice lowered, saddened. “None of them would do this.” At my raised eyebrows, she hesitated and sighed. “Or what I mean to say is, none I would suspect of killing Alexander.”
I rubbed my face, blowing out a long deep breath as crickets sang around me. Dammit, why did things have to get so messy? Why couldn’t Alexander be a normal ghost—as ridiculous as the thought was—and tell me who killed him? I could make a call to the police and case closed. Another mystery was so not what I needed right now, but seeing his condition was all types of awful.
After another hard rub of my very tired eyes, I lowered my hands and shook them out to shed my frustrations. But as I did, a thought returned that formed earlier with vengeance. “Question, when did Alexander die?”
Gretchen appeared taken back by my switch of subjects with wide eyes and appeared to want to discuss something further, but she obliged me. “Days before we first met.”
I glanced at the grass beneath my plaid rain boots, noticing the dew from my flashlight. I thought over the past days, timed it all out, and a slow horror slid over me. Raising my head, I could barely manage, “Right around the time I took on the Lizbeth Knapp case?”
Gretchen cocked her head, regarding me with a crease to her brow. “I suppose it was around that time.” Her eyes searched mine. “Why?”
Sucking in a deep breath, my hands trembled and I clenched my fists. “In fact, it was the exact time.”
Was that a coincidence?
Alexander had seemed to know of me and my gifts, didn’t he? He wasn’t at all surprised at what I could do and how I could do it. Even the other ghosts that arrived before him had been stunned at my abilities, but not Alexander. That meant before his death, he learned of me. Which also meant Dane had come to Memphis the day or so after his father-in-law’s death.
Why?
He told me himself that solving Alexander’s crime was important to him, so then why, at such a crucial time, did he leave White Castle? More to the point, he showed tenderness toward his grief-stricken wife. Why would he leave the woman he loved when she needed him the most—to help me, a complete stranger?
The answer was glaringly obvious.
“I’m going to rip his fucking heart out.”
Spinning on my heels, I made a beeline for the house, but the damn boots made it difficult. I curled my toes, doing my best to run. I didn’t give a rat’s ass if I looked completely ridiculous, which I assumed I did.
“Where are you going?” Gretchen’s feet banged on the ground behind me. “We have to talk about this, Tess. It’s important to…”
Her voice became lost to me as blood pulsed through my veins while my heart hammered. Intense anger fueled my steps and I pushed all my strength into my legs to outrun her. The warm wind brushed over my hot skin, but it did nothing to cool the scorching rage within.
“Stop! Tess!” Gretchen yelled. “Whose heart?”
