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Callie couldn’t sleep, not after Alice’s call. What was happening over at the Gunthries’ place? She couldn’t believe there had been a shooting here, in Shadow Valley, of all places. Had they found the man? Was he hurt badly? Not knowing was driving her crazy.
Grabbing her phone, she quickly texted Mamie and David to make sure they were safe. She was secretly relieved when David texted he was home playing video games. She knew it hadn’t been him... although he had been known to poke around the Gunthries’ tool shed. She shook off the thought. That would have been bad. So very bad.
Mamie took longer to talk down. Callie briefly considered running down to the café to stay with her, but thought better of it. Still, she couldn’t just lie here worrying, especially with Carter out there in the middle of it. Whatever it was.
She pushed off the covers and went to the closet for her robe. There had to be something she could do to pass the time as she waited for the phone to ring.
The floorboards creaked as she walked to the bedroom door. The peanut butter cookies in the kitchen were calling her name. If this wasn’t the time for stress eating, she didn’t know what was. She grabbed the doorknob, but nearly stubbed her toe again when the door didn’t open.
She looked down quickly. The doorknob was stuck.
Her breath caught in her lungs, but she swiftly tamped down the surge of fear. It had to just be locked. Carter was cautious that way.
She reached for the lock, but snatched her hand back when she received a jolt of static electricity. “Ow!”
She rubbed her hand. That had been the second time tonight. Eyeing the door anxiously, she tried again. This time, she was able to touch the thumbturn, but she couldn’t move it. It wasn’t just stuck—it was jammed tight. So was the door handle itself. She used her sleeve to get a better grip, but her hand slipped off before it so much as budged.
Tingles started in her belly. “This is not happening. Not again.”
She sprang back when the television started blaring from the living room. The volume turned up to full, and she clapped her hands over her ears.
“Oh, no. Please no.”
Upstairs, the rocker started squeaking. She didn’t know how she could hear it over the din, but she could. The knot that formed in her stomach was cold and hard. She backed away from the door, shivers running down her spine.
Outside her bedroom, the tumult rose. Doors began slamming. In the living room, something hit the walls. She hunched her shoulders with every crash. Were those her books? Through the crack under the door, she could see the lights flashing on and off, on and off.
Inside her bedroom, though, all was still.
The hair on Callie’s arms rose. Adelaide had wanted attention before; this was different. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. The whirlwind of noise and activity seemed to gain strength. She was in the eye of the storm but couldn’t wait for it to turn on her.
“Stop it,” she begged. “Please, Adelaide.”
The maelstrom rose around her. Energy pumped through the house. Appliances turned on and off. Callie hopped onto the bed when moans started coming up through the floorboards from the basement.
“Why?” She was shaking so hard that her teeth clattered. Why had the spirit come back? Hadn’t she completed the mission Adelaide left behind? Wasn’t she doing as the spirit had asked?
“Stop it,” Callie cried. “Stop it or tell me what’s wrong.”
It made no sense. Adelaide had been so quiet that they’d thought she’d left. Or was at least content. Why now? What had made her so upset? So angry?
“It’s Carter, isn’t it? Are you upset he’s gone? He’s coming back, I swear. He’ll be here soon.”
The promise didn’t help. The noise grew to a deafening roar. Callie lurched toward the door and yanked on the handle. She braced her foot against the wall for leverage. She’d rather be out there in the middle of everything than caught here.
Nothing worked. She couldn’t get out. She was trapped alone with Adelaide’s irate spirit.
The windows. She’d gotten out that way before. She spun around and flew across the room. Her hands shook as she undid the latch and pulled the windowpane up. It slammed back down with such force, she shielded herself for fear it would shatter.
“Adelaide. Quit it! Let me out of here. I’ll go. I promise I’ll leave and never come back.”
Braving her fears, Callie dove to the window and began to pull with all her strength. A face in the window startled her. She jumped back so quickly, she stumbled over her own feet and fell to the floor.
The face wasn’t her reflection, and it wasn’t Carter. It was David.
* * *
THE TIRES OF CARTER’S truck screeched to a stop outside of Callie’s house, and he was out and running practically before he threw the transmission into park. Bill was standing on the front sidewalk, gaping at the house with wide, terrified eyes. Carter felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise when he looked at the place.
It was possessed.
Shutters flapped. Lights flickered. Every electronic device in the place sounded as if it had been turned on.
He ran across the lawn to where Bill stood. “Where’s Callie?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t get in. She wouldn’t let me.”
Carter didn’t have to ask who “she” was.
“Circle the house,” he ordered Bill. “There’s got to be a way. We’ve got to get inside and help her.”
If Carter wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it. This was bad... and something he wasn’t sure how to fight. He laid his hand on the gun at his hip and started around the house. They had to get inside. Callie could be trapped and hurt for all he knew.
He saw a figure at the side of the house on the ladder propped up against her bedroom window. He nearly pulled his gun before he saw it was David Hughes.
“David,” Carter yelled. His breath fogged in the cold winter air. “Is she in there?”
The teenager’s head snapped around and, for once, he looked happy to see him. “She’s trapped. Adelaide won’t let her out of the room.”
Carter had seen and heard too much not to believe what the kid was saying. He hurried over. “Is Adelaide in there with her?”
“No. I don’t know where she is.” David stopped and closed his eyes tightly as if he were in pain.
“David!”
“She’s angry.” His eyes were glazed when he opened them. “Adelaide’s lost it.”
“Let me up there.” Carter held the ladder as David scurried down. He took the rungs two at a time on the way up. When he looked through the window, he found himself face to face with Callie.
“Carter!” She began pounding on the window. “Get me out of here.”
She yanked on the handle, but the window wouldn’t move. He tried to help her, but couldn’t get a good grip. He pushed, pulled, and banged with the palm of his hand before he finally gave up.
“Back away,” he yelled as he pulled out his gun. He turned the butt end to the glass and brought it crashing down hard.
It bounced off the window like a Super Ball.
“This isn’t working,” he said, breathing hard. He saw her palms press against the window, and he lifted his hand to lie against hers. “Breathe, honey. Try to stay calm. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He hated it, but he looked away from her tear-filled eyes and quickly descended the ladder. His stomach twisted at the thought of leaving her, but there was nothing useful he could do from up there. “Keep talking to her,” he barked at David. “I’m going inside.”
“How?”
He didn’t know, but he was going to find a way.
He met Bill back on the front lawn. The officer looked even more white-faced than he had before. “There’s no way in,” Bill reported. “Everything is sealed tight as a drum. Nobody’s getting in, and nobody’s getting out.”
Like hell.
Carter’s determination gelled with the ball of rage in his gut.
This was going to stop. He was going to protect Callie no matter what the spirit bitch threw at him. He’d kick the front door down. TNT it, if he had to.
His steps faltered on the steps to the front door. “Protect her,” he said slowly.
Adelaide had told him to protect Callie.
But he’d left her side...
All at once, the pieces of the puzzle locked into place in his head.
“You’re doing my job for me,” he whispered.
That was it. He didn’t have a doubt about it. Callie was in trouble, so Adelaide had done what she could.
He sprang into action and covered the porch in two steps. Bill caught up to him as he grabbed the door handle. “It won’t open. I tried.”
“Adelaide, let me in,” Carter said.
The door swung open and the house dropped to a deadly silence.
Carter didn’t miss a beat, but Bill sucked in a breath and backed into the porch railing. Carter grabbed him by the shirtfront and pulled him inside. He wasn’t waiting for any more backup.
The entryway was empty, but Carter pulled his gun and held it at the ready. He swept the rooms with an eagle eye as he headed straight to Callie’s room. The stereo and the television had gone quiet. Books were on the floor, but he stepped between them, undaunted. He halfway expected to find Adelaide in the hallway, ready to kick his ass, but it was clear.
He holstered his weapon.
“Callie.” He grabbed the bedroom door handle and wrenched it. Pain shot through his wrist when it held solid.
“Carter!” He could feel her presence on the other side.
He twisted the handle again. It was no use.
“Back up,” he yelled. “I’ll kick it in.”
He took a step back and let loose with his foot. It landed hard against the wood, jarring his entire body, but the door held. Bill snapped out of his stupor. He lowered his shoulder and, together, they attacked.
The door held strong as a fortress.
Moans started up from the basement, and Carter tried again. Had he read Adelaide wrong? The moans built in strength. Was she not forgiving him?
“We’ve got to get Callie out of here before Adelaide starts acting up again,” Bill said.
“Adelaide is the one holding the door closed.” Carter’s frustration mounted. Why had she let him in only to block him out?
Protect her.
That was the message she’d directed straight at him. What else had she said?
Hiding. People are searching. That was it. She’d thought she was still working for the Underground Railroad.
Moans echoed up from the basement, and he ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t think if she kept doing that.
His hand stopped at the back of his neck.
Wait. Could it be?
Oh, fuck.
Instinct had him arming himself again. “We need to search the basement.”
Bill shook his head. “We need to help Callie.”
“Callie’s fine.” Carter was certain of that now. Adelaide had her safe.
Good, old Adelaide—vigilante for truth and justice.
“Chief—”
“He’s here,” Carter said. “Morton is here.”
* * *
CALLIE FELT HER PANIC threaten to overwhelm her when Carter called through the door, “Hold on. We’ll be back.”
Her body went limp, and she rested her forehead against the wood. She looked down at the handle through a sheen of tears.
She’d had enough. No more. She couldn’t take this anymore.
She’d done everything she could do, but it just wasn’t enough. She was tired of being scared, tired of looking over her shoulder, tired of jumping at every little thing.
No more.
“Did you hear that, Adelaide?” she whispered. “It’s over.”
Anger gathered strength inside her. She slapped the door with the palm of her hand and pushed herself away. Standing in the middle of the room, she opened her arms wide. “I give up. You win.”
She turned around in a slow circle. For once, she wanted to see the spirit again. She knew it was listening.
“You know what, Adelaide?” Her voice got louder. “I deserved better than this.”
The house stood quiet, but she could feel the energy still pulsing. It swirled around her. Lifting her finger, she pointed at her unseen guest. “You never gave me a chance, yet I did everything I could for you. Have you looked at this house, your house? I worked my fingers to the bone to make it a home. You saw me do it.”
Callie didn’t care if Adelaide didn’t like what she was hearing. The spirit couldn’t scare her anymore. She was past that stage, and she was brimming with indignation. “I moved into this house, and, when I discovered you were here with me, I tried to accept it. I was open to the idea. I tried everything I could to get along with you. When books started flying and rocking chairs started creaking, I did my best to deal with it.”
She grabbed a pillow from the bed and hurled it across the room. “I’m doing what you wanted. I took your things to a museum, and I’m writing your story so everyone will know. I would have done that no matter what you did to me. Do you know why, Adelaide? Are you listening to me? I did it because I was proud of you.”
Another pillow received a solid kick. “I thought so much of you, but you still terrorized me.” With a deep breath, she folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think much of you now.”
Suddenly, Callie felt Adelaide’s presence in the room. The air sizzled with energy, and the temperature dropped. She held her ground. “Do your best. I’m not afraid of you anymore. I’m taking your power away from you, Adelaide. I’m the one in charge now.”
The energy ebbed and flowed. Callie could feel the struggle and knew she was winning.
“I’m leaving,” she said flatly. “You can have the house. You can pull your little stunts that you think are so funny, but I won’t be here to see them. I won’t hear them. And do you know what, Adelaide? Neither will Carter.”
They’d gotten to the heart of the matter. Callie could tell because the pillow she’d just kicked flew back across the room. She didn’t even blink. When it came to the police chief, he was one thing she wasn’t giving up.
“I’m sorry that Peter left you,” she said, “but you can’t have Carter. I love him.”
The room went quiet.
“He’s mine,” Callie said softly, “so get out of my way and open that door.”
She stood straight and tall. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she wasn’t going to show any signs of weakness.
Time slowed...
And the lock softly clicked.
* * *
CARTER PUSHED OPEN the door to the basement and stepped back. The lights were already on. Adelaide was being helpful. Holding his weapon at the ready, he scanned whatever area he could see. He saw no movement, so he slowly eased onto the staircase. Bill moved into position behind him.
Carter pushed onward. He knew he was right about this. Step by step, they moved down into the basement. The moans had stopped. Even the furnace was quiet. The old, dank room echoed their footsteps as they moved about the room.
“It’s empty,” Bill said. “Like always.”
“No, it’s not,” Carter said through clenched teeth. There might be nothing to see, but that didn’t mean that nobody was here. Giving up the advantage of surprise, he began to bang his fist along the wall.
“What are you doing?” Bill asked. “The house has a ghost. You tried to get Adelaide to cross over, but apparently, you just pissed her off. We should grab Callie and go. We need to be over at Alice’s right now.”
Carter knew that Bill thought he’d gone over the edge, but his emotions weren’t controlling him. His thinking was laser-focused. He knew what he was doing. Adelaide had told him plain as day; he just hadn’t understood her at the time.
“Adelaide used to work with the Underground Railroad. There’s a good chance that she hid slaves in this house.”
The light dawned in Bill’s eyes. “You think there might be a secret room down here?”
“Help me find it.”
Starting on opposite sides of the room, they each began pounding on the walls. There had to be something down here. There was no other way to explain how Morton’s fingerprints had gotten on the fuse box.
Sweat broke out on Carter’s forehead. Adrenaline had his system jumping. One break. All they needed was one stinking break.
He knocked on the wall, and his ears keyed in on a hollow sound. “Over here. Behind these shelves.”
Bill hurried over. Together, they tried to move the heavy wooden bookcase. It wouldn’t budge. It had been nailed to the wall. “There’s got to be a switch or a lever,” Bill said.
Carter’s hand brushed over a piece of metal. “I’ve got it. Stand back.”
He tugged on the lever and there was a loud click. The bookcase swung open like a door when he pulled on it, and he heard a familiar thump. Bill quickly pulled out his flashlight. In its beam, a small room was revealed.
Carter’s pulse pounded in his ears. The room was empty, but somebody had obviously been living there for quite some time. There was a cot in the corner with new sheets and a blanket much like the one Nancy had described. A pile of clothes on the floor looked like they would suit her husband. A Coleman Lantern sat on a crate in the corner along with a radio, and a towel hung over the back of a chair.
The towel matched Callie’s set.
Something inside his chest went cold and hard. It went subzero when he saw an empty Tupperware container sitting beside the radio. He’d put the leftover pizza from last night’s dinner in that container himself.
“Where is he?” he growled.
He pushed aside a hanging blanket and found a tunnel. Pulling out his flashlight, he slowly followed its trail. He hadn’t gone ten feet when he saw a heap lying on the ground. With his gun ready, he focused the beam of light.
The heap was Clive Morton.