Gatekeeper (20 page)

A shudder rippled up her spine when she ran her gloved finger along the cold, dull blade. She examined the rough, damaged point. In her mind, she saw the Federal colonel, eyes blazing, bringing the sword down on Benton’s head—a blow meant for Bruce Bowers.

Something inside Jillian twisted. She pressed her lips together tightly. Had Benton loved Hattie Cooke so much he gave his own life to save his murderer’s?

But then, she recalled what Benton had said just last night when she had asked him if he still loved Hattie.
Not in the same way. Not now.
A flutter passed through her stomach. Jillian wondered if it meant he could possibly love
her
. She swallowed. No. She was reading too much into it. He was a ghost, a spirit. He was dead. He wasn’t capable of such emotions.

But he’d certainly been capable of making love to me.

Jillian blushed at her own thoughts—and her own foolishness.

And then, a reverberating explosion nearly scared her out of her skin. Jillian jumped. Clutching the hilt of the sword in both hands, she whirled.

Lynn Bowers barred the doorway with her big body. In her hand was a pistol, a wisp of smoke still curling from the barrel.

Jillian gasped. Comprehension flooded her. Terror immobilized her. Lynn had shot the museum curator—and she was going to shoot her too. Her nails dug into the leather casing on the sword’s hilt through the gloves. Adrenaline raced through her veins. Her heart beat like a drum.

There was no sense in being coy. Lynn knew.

Her eyes brightened arrogantly. “Hand over that button.”

Jillian swallowed. Her heart was pumping in huge, erratic bursts. “I gave the button back to Theo.” Her voice was but a frightened whisper.

Lynn waved the pistol at her. “You’re lying.”

Jillian took a deep breath. “The police are on to you, Lynn. There’s already a warrant out for your arrest.” She was attempting to reason with her but Jillian quickly reminded herself that this woman had already killed and would kill again. The only thing she could do was keep her talking while her mind raced for a way out. “You don’t want to do this.”

Lynn laughed maniacally. “You have no idea what I’m doing. None. Your sister had a clue and when I’m done with you, I’ll go back and shut her up for good too.”

Jillian’s breaths were coming in shallow, panting gulps of air. “Don’t you think you at least owe me an explanation?”

Lynn glanced over her shoulder and then back at Jillian. Her red lips pulled into a tight smile. “Nothing would have happened to her if it hadn’t been for
him
.”

“Him? What do you mean? Who are you talking about?” But Jillian knew full well who she was talking about.

“Your Gatekeeper.” Lynn lifted her chin. “Thomas Benton Smith.”

Jillian shrank back.

“I thought she’d already released him until Theo told me you stole the button. I knew for sure when you found her.” Lynn laughed again.

Jillian blinked. She
was
crazy. “And…and what about the soul collectors? How did you know about them?”

“You don’t think you and your sister are the only psychics in town, do you?” She took a step closer.

Instinctively, Jillian took a step back. Her grip tightened on the sword. Perspiration rolled down her back between her shoulder blades.

Lynn went on. “I’m well acquainted with the soul collectors.” She lunged forward. Her eyes widened wildly. “Boo!”

Jillian screamed and jumped back.

Lynn laughed hysterically. “And when I’m done with Benton Smith, he will be too.”

Jillian groped for something to say to keep her talking. “What about the pictures? Why did you send those?”

“You’re not as smart as I gave you credit for,” Lynn said. “When I realized the button was missing, I went to Shy’s Hill myself but the police were already all over the place. I couldn’t just walk up there and take it. And I sure didn’t think you’d have the balls to do it.”

Jillian was beginning to understand.

Lynn went on. “I had to send those pictures to know how involved you were. Of course, Amy never mentioned if you knew anything about that bastard Smith. But I knew you had the same ability she has. It may not be as good, but I figured you were psychic enough to determine the button was the key to Amy’s disappearance. The soul collectors getting after your Gatekeeper—well, that was my plan from the beginning. What I can’t understand is why they didn’t get him.” Her gaze dropped to Jillian’s pockets and then came back up again. “I want that button.”

So, Lynn had orchestrated all this merely to offer Benton up to the soul collectors?
Why?
Jillian inhaled sharply. She took a step backward. “What about the hair on the door? Why did you tape Amy’s hair to the door?”

Lynn’s forehead furrowed. “Hair? What hair?”

She’d been forthcoming with everything else. Why was she lying about taping Amy’s hair to her front door?

“You’re stalling—Psych 101. Give me the button, Jillian.”

There was only one way Lynn would get that button now—over her dead body. “I don’t have it. I told you I gave it—”

Another deafening shot rang out, echoing in the room. The bullet whizzed past Jillian’s ear and struck the wall behind her. She gasped. Her ears rang.

“I know damn well you wouldn’t give it back to Theo and risk loosing your precious
Gatekeeper
,” she sneered.

“What…what do you want with it?”

“I’m going to make certain Benton Smith pays for what he did to my great-grandmother.”

Jillian tried to play dumb. “What did he do?”

“You don’t know?”

Jillian shook her head. She was trembling.

“After Smith broke off their engagement, she married my great-grandfather, Bruce Bowers. But she never got over Benton Smith. She went crazy. She ran away and they found her at Shy’s Hill, digging in the dirt one night looking for a button, and after she told them she’d seen Smith’s ghost, they locked her up in the insane asylum.”

Jillian blew out a breath. Pity rose up inside her for Hattie because she, Jillian, knew what it was to be in love with Benton Smith. And no doubt, in addition to everything else, Hattie felt guilty for his death.

“When your sister told me she’d found that button at Shy’s Hill and was going to send that bastard into the Light, well…you see, I just couldn’t let that happen.”

“But Lynn, people just didn’t understand about psychics like us back then.” She was trying every trick she’d learned in psychology about dealing with a criminal. “It wasn’t Benton’s fault. It wasn’t Hattie’s fault either.”

Lynn’s eyes narrowed. “So he’s told you about her. You know.”

“I…I saw a letter she wrote to him, at the library. That’s all I know.”

Lynn pursed her lips together. She was shaking. She held the pistol with both hands to steady it. “Do you believe we get a second chance?”

Jillian’s brow creased. What did she mean? She stared. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” She tried to sound patient, in control—but she knew full well she was anything but in control at the moment. Why wouldn’t someone come in? Why wouldn’t the phone ring, anything to distract Lynn?

“I’m talking about reincarnation.”

Oh God
, thought Jillian. Did Lynn believe she was the reincarnation of Hattie Cooke? If she did, then she was crazier than Jillian had first suspected. “I don’t know anything about that,” Jillian said carefully.

“Amy believes it.”

“Amy and I haven’t always seen eye to eye on the paranormal.”

Lynn’s voice changed. It became hard and cold. “Yes. She told me all about that.”

Jillian felt a pang of jealousy and remorse that she didn’t have as close a relationship with Amy as she had imagined. She stopped her thoughts in their tracks. That was exactly what Lynn wanted her to think. She blinked. She had to stay focused, to keep the attention on Lynn. “Tell me what
you
believe about reincarnation.” She tried to sound composed despite the fact Lynn was holding a gun on her and despite the fact she held a one hundred fiftyyearold sword in her hands. It was getting heavy. Her biceps and shoulders ached and burned from the strain.

Lynn’s red lips pulled into a tight line. “I believe that if we leave things unfinished in one life, we have a chance to finish them in the next.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Finishing something from a past life?”

“Oh no. Not
me
.”

Jillian didn’t understand. “But…don’t you believe you were Hattie Cooke?”

Lynn burst into an insane bout of laughter. “Are you out of your mind? No,
I
wasn’t Hattie Cooke, you fool.”

A moan came from the other room. Andrew was still alive. Jillian wondered how badly hurt he was. “Listen, Lynn. That man in there needs help. Let’s call an ambulance.”

She held the sword with one hand and started to reach down for her purse with the other.

“Stop right there.” Lynn stepped forward and aimed the pistol directly at her.

Chapter Fourteen

“Don’t touch that!” Lynn was becoming agitated. Impatient. She took a few steps closer, now only a couple feet from Jillian, her arm extended and the gun aimed right at Jillian’s chest.

Jillian was at the end of her rope. All she could do now was beg. “Lynn, don’t do this. You don’t want to have to repeat this in another life. Theo already knows about the clerk at the relic shop. Don’t add another murder to the list.”

“Give her the button, Jillian.” Benton appeared behind Lynn.

Jillian gasped. Lynn’s eyes grew wide but she didn’t turn around. Her spine stiffened.

Jillian’s gaze locked with Benton’s. She shook her head. “No. She wants to give you up to the soul collectors.”

“Give her the button.” His voice was calm. His expression was ruthless.

“Yes, give it to me!” Lynn’s voice rose sharply.

Jillian looked from Lynn to Benton, where she found silent encouragement in his gaze.

Lynn noticed the unspoken exchange. “I’ll kill her, Benton. I swear I will!”

A sudden feeling of courage swept through Jillian. “Then go ahead and do it, you coward!” Anger for what she had done to Amy and for what she was attempting to do to Benton sparked in her veins and fueled her fury. “Do it!” She was amazed at the power in her own voice.

Lynn stared. Her face drained of color.

“Jillian…” Benton’s voice was filled with warning.

“Do it—because I will
never
give you the button.” This time her voice was calm, even. Jillian’s breath came in short pants. She shook.

Lynn’s eyes narrowed. Her mouth formed a long, thin line. Her finger tightened around the trigger.

Jillian’s eyes widened. Lynn was really going to shoot her. Her breath froze in her lungs. Her gaze riveted to Benton’s.

As if in slow motion, Jillian watched as Lynn squeezed the trigger and as the gun went off, Benton pushed Lynn hard. Reflexively, Jillian’s hands came up, still clutching the sword. She squeezed her eyes shut and twisted her head as she felt Lynn’s weight propelled onto the tip of the sword. Resistance gave way and Jillian felt the hilt of the sword press into Lynn’s belly as she slammed hard against the floor with Lynn skewered on top of her.

Blood gurgled up from Lynn’s mouth. Her eyes grew impossibly wide, the irises completely black, unfocused.

Jillian gasped.

An animalistic moan emitted from somewhere deep inside Lynn. She sputtered and then her head lolled lifelessly to the side.

Jillian relinquished the sword and scrambled backward. Her arm stung like crazy. She felt as if someone had slugged her in the biceps. Hard. Her gaze caught the crimson stain on the snowy gloves. Blood. Jillian stared in horror and screamed.

Oh God, she’d killed Lynn. She’d killed her!

Her stare was riveted to the bloody gloves. That nagging pain still burned in her arm. She glanced down. More blood. She’d been shot.

Blackness washed over her. Her head started to spin. “Jillian!” Benton’s voice was urgent. He was on his knees beside her. A strong arm was around her back, laying her gently to the floor.

Her eyes met his.

“Are you all right?” Concern was evident on his face. “Jillian, talk to me.”

She opened her mouth to speak but no sound would come out.

“Jillian…”

His voice seemed far away although she knew he was holding her. It was as if she were looking at him through a tunnel.

Lynn’s grinning ghost became visible behind him.

All of a sudden, the soul collectors materialized out of the ether. Eyes glowing, mouths watering, they loomed toward Benton’s back.

Jillian tried to scream. She tried to point but her hand was heavy. Numb. And Benton seemed so far away. So far…

And then everything went black.

* * * * *

Jillian abruptly regained consciousness when she got the pungent ammonia whiff of smelling salts. She gasped. A paramedic kneeled beside her. “Ms. Drew?”