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“You should know we’re dead, Wiley, seeing as you’re the one that made us that way,” another ghost roared with hatred as she appeared beside the first apparition.
Wiley Grant began moving backward, edging closer to the door, trying to distance himself from the two angry ghosts standing around Echo. Something within her knew the ghosts were protecting her, and whatever they were saying to Wiley had a huge impact on him. He was actually trembling. Two more ghosts appeared near her.
Thump, whoosh.
Echo heard the blood pounding in her ears. This situation did not feel real. She’d suspected there was one ghost in the old hotel, but four? Did they just say Wiley had killed all of them?
The entire room buzzed and crackled with electricity.
An icy chill ran the length of Echo’s spine. She realized the horrible danger she was in. Wanting to avoid regaining Wiley’s attention, Echo slowly moved back toward the door on the far side of the room as she watched the confrontation between Wiley and the ghosts. But her movement attracted the frightened man’s attention and, before she could slip through the door, Wiley dodged toward her, grabbing her around the neck with his arm, and whipping a Derringer out from under his coat with his other hand.
A shock of fear nearly sent her to her knees. Wiley jerked her closer. His suit jacket felt damp against her skin, and it reeked of sour sweat and cigarette smoke.
“Let me go, Wiley!” she screamed, fighting down a bubble of hysteria as she grasped his arm to remove it from her throat. Her writhing and bucking only caused him to hold her tighter.
He clucked his tongue. “Don’t be stupid, missy. You’re coming with me. And make those danged women leave me alone!”
“What are you talking about? I don’t see anyone!” Echo saw plenty, but she would not let him know. The spirits from the mural stood beside her desk, and they appeared ticked off. The blonde ghost had her hands on her hips, leaning forward, her lips pinched with anger. Another angel, as she was fond of calling them, was taller and thinner than the others, but she seemed more distressed than angry.
“I’ve about had enough of this. You’re trying my patience!” the red-haired entity bellowed, sweeping into the room, the final ghost following closely behind her.
“And mine too,” the trailing, black-haired spirit cried.
Echo could hardly believe her eyes. All four of the angels filled the bitterly cold room. The angrier they became, the colder the surrounding atmosphere became.
Wiley pulled her so tightly against him she could feel his erratically pounding heart as it jolted in his chest. He was scared. But somehow, that was not the least bit comforting to her.
“Now, you all just leave me alone. You’re not here, you’re dead, damn it!” Wiley’s eyes darted back and forth among the ghosts. Forgetting the gun in his hand, he reached for the doorknob behind him to try to open the door. Echo felt his body tense as he fumbled, nearly dropping the gun.
Suddenly the door opened, and he nearly fell out into the hallway, dragging Echo with him. Pulling her behind him, Wiley stumbled toward the main dining room.
Echo’s stomach clenched in terror. Where was he taking her? And more importantly, what was he going to do to her? With his hair sticking up in every direction, and his wild eyes darting around the hallway, he appeared completely mad.
As they entered the dining room, the ghosts followed closely. A wind raced through the room, tossing napkins and dousing the candle flames. Her customers’ shock registered in their wide eyes and open mouths, but when Wiley began swatting the air with his gun, Echo heard audible gasps.
Alexis rushed into the dining room. Echo could see her mouth forming words, but she couldn’t hear over the swirl of animated conversations around her and Wiley yelling at the ghosts to leave him alone. “I killed you all out in the tunnel!” he yelled.
“Call the sheriff,” Echo shouted to Alexis. Confusion registered in Alexis’ eyes, but when Echo’s request connected, she nodded slightly and moved toward the hallway to the telephone.
Wiley dragged Echo toward the hidden basement door as he continued batting at the air, screaming, “You’re dead, you’re all dead. I killed ya myself!” The lunatic opened the door and shoved her onto the small landing, pointing the gun at her chest. “Go on. Git down there,” he demanded, and Echo ran down the steps, queasiness filling her.
She felt she was descending into what could become her grave. If there was any chance of survival, keeping him occupied until Alexis could get help was important. She knew that following his orders was vital.
Slamming the door behind him, Wiley went down the steps into the small dirt room quicker than Echo thought possible for a man of his age.
“Stand in the corner.” He motioned for Echo to move in the direction he pointed the gun. Grasping the side of the rough wooden shelves, he dug his boot heels into the dirt and pulled with a vitality honed from years of physical work. With a loud squawk of protest, the shelves swung out to show a tunnel dug into the basement wall.
“How did you...?” Echo cut off the words, trying not to draw any more attention to herself than she could. She wondered how the man peering into the darkness had known it was there. In all the records and articles she’d read about the hotel, there was never any mention of hidden tunnels.
“Come here,” the crazed man demanded.
With the word `tomb’ screaming through her thoughts, she knew there was nothing she wanted to do less than to go into that dark, dank place.
When Echo didn’t move, Wiley grabbed her arm and shoved her through the opening. She caught her toe on something and pitched forward into the blackness. Catching herself on her hands, she felt a burning sting as gravel dug into her skin. It had felt for a moment that she was falling into a black sea of nothingness.
Wiley jerked her up by her hair. Instinctively, she slapped her hands over the top of his, locking his hands in place. She had been through this so many times with James. Wiley was behind her, but he wouldn’t hurt her head this way.
“Miss Fire, he’s got her!”
Echo turned slightly toward the sound. The black-haired spirit held both of her hands over her ears, causing her elbows to poke out to the sides.
Hearing the ghostly screams, Wiley dropped the gun, released Echo, and began running down the tunnel with the band of ghostly angels hot on his heels. If Echo weren’t so frightened, she might have run the other way, but she was frozen on the spot.
“No! No! You’re dead!” Wiley wailed at the top of his lungs as he disappeared into the darkness ahead of him. The walls amplified the sound and seemed to shake her in their wake.
Forgetting the danger she was in, Echo edged down the tunnel, trying to see what was happening. A hand reached out and held her back.
“Don’t go any closer; he’ll harm you.”
Echo looked up into the softest colored eyes. “Who are you?” she asked.
The spirit, snow-white curls covering her shoulders, smiled and said, “I’m Jewel.” The spirit pulled her back. “And this is Miss Fire, my mother and the madam of your bordello.”
The flame-haired entity smiled.
“And these are my dear friends, Magnolia...” The stunning girl in peach curtsied. “...and Lolly.” With an airy whoosh, another spirit appeared. “And of course, you know this little troublemaker,” Jewel said as she showed Ann standing in the shadows.
Echo wasn’t sure what to say to ghosts, so she just nodded. The sounds of scraping in the distance showed life in the tunnel ahead of them.
“What’s he doing?” Echo asked, her voice barely audible.
“You’ll see,” Jewel’s words whispered through the air.
A beam of light hit her from behind. She turned around and saw the sheriff moving quietly up behind her.
“Mrs. Brennen, are you all right?” Keeping his gun drawn, he pointed the beam of light down the tunnel and focused his light on Wiley Grant, who was on his knees digging with his hands.
“See, see? What’d I tell ya?” Wiley rasped, looking up toward the dark ceiling. “You can’t be here, you’re dead!”
“Oh, dear God.” She sighed a prayer as Wiley’s movements unearthed skeletal remains.
~ * ~
ECHO’S CROSSED LEG bounced in rhythm to the ticks of the wall clock in the outer room of the sheriff’s office. Each second that clicked by felt like an eternity.
Everything in here is an antique, she thought as she looked around the room. The wooden bench on which she sat could have easily seated criminals from the early nineteen hundreds. The only flaw in her scenario was the computer in the corner of the room.
Why had Sheriff Hodges demanded she come here immediately if he were going to keep her waiting? She’d already been there for over an hour. She wanted to see Rand, but they hadn’t allowed her to do that either. She could have showered instead of just changing into clean clothing.
“Mrs. Brennen...”
Echo sprang to her feet, impatiently hurried across the room toward the deputy who came in the door. “Please, what’s going on?”
“The sheriff wants to see you. Follow me.”
Echo had seen the man’s office on her one visit to see Rand. This is where she’d planned to see him tonight, but other things had interfered.
The deputy opened the door for her, stepping back to allow her entrance into the dark office.
Sheriff Hodges sat back in his wooden office chair, his huge belly filling it from side to side. “We have a confession. Randall Halstead...”
“No! I won’t hear this. Rand did nothing, I tell you. He wouldn’t confess to this.”
“You’re so very right, Echo.”
She whirled around. Rand stood in the doorway smiling at her.
“Ahem.” The sheriff cleared his voice, gaining her attention. “As I started to say, I’ve had him released so he could hear this too.”
Rand took her hand, pulling her into his arms as he looked at the sheriff. “All right, I’m here. What’s this all about?”
“Have a seat,” the sheriff said, showing two chairs in front of his desk, “’cause you’re in for some big surprises. You’re about to hear the most incredible murder confession I’ve ever heard.”
“You’re free?” Echo asked, looking up at Rand.
“Yes, Wiley confessed to killing Paul, but let’s listen to what Hodges has to say.” Rand reluctantly released Echo and directed her to the chair the sheriff had indicated.