Кей Хупер - Out of the Shadows

The rest departed, and as they drove back to town with Alex and Tony, Miranda said, "Why is it that I don't feel much of a sense of closure? It's over. The monster's dead."

"That won't sink in for a while yet," Bishop told her from experience. "As brutal as it'll be, finding out a bit more about how his mind worked will help. It's human nature to always try to understand the monsters, to neatly label them before we lock them away in a drawer. Luckily for us, this monster left a record of his horrors."

"It won't be pleasant reading," Alex said.

"No, but the answers we need are there. And none of us will be able to put this behind us until we have those answers."

"But for tonight," Miranda said, "it's time to stop thinking about it, if only for a few hours."

They returned to the Sheriff's Department for nearly two of those hours, out of necessity. Bishop had to call Quantico, and given the magnitude of John MacBride's crimes that call was a lengthy one. Miranda had to talk to her deputies about the situation and set up the temporary duty rotation, then she had to get in touch with members of the town council.

It wasn't a responsibility she enjoyed. No one had suspected MacBride, no one had felt even a tinge of doubt, and the shock and grief of the councilmen as they were informed was deep and honest. It wasn't just a political matter or even a betrayal of trust; John MacBride had destroyed the faith of those who had believed in him — and in the basic goodness of their fellow citizens.

Finally, the necessary calls had been made and duties finished, at least for the moment. Exhaustion had caught up with Alex at last, and he was sleeping deeply on one of the lounge couches, but Carl Tierney assured Miranda he could keep an eye on things until Alex awakened or she returned. And Tony volunteered to remain there overnight as well, saying wryly that the cots weren't too bad.

"Go home, Sheriff," he said. "And take my boss with you. After all, he's been dead. That's very tiring."

So it was after eight o'clock that night when Bishop parked Miranda's Jeep in the driveway of her house and they climbed wearily out.

"Sometime soon," she said, "I want to take a week or so and just sleep."

"I couldn't agree more." He took her hand as they went up the walk together, adding, "It looks like your housekeeper was here as promised."

"I told her to leave the lights on for us. And, knowing Mrs. Task, there'll be a full meal in the oven or fridge."

"Good. My appetite may just be coming back."

They went into the house, and Miranda was a little amused to realize that both of them reached immediately to unfasten their weapon holsters as soon as they stepped into the living room. She was going to comment but was distracted by an unexpected sight on the coffee table.

"Look. Mrs. Task left the Ouija board out," she said. "I should have remembered to ask her to take it — "

The planchette began to circle the board wildly.

Miranda looked at Bishop as he came to stand beside her and frown at the board. "I'm not doing that," she said.

"Neither am I. That spirit, maybe? The one trapped here?"

"But communicating without a medium? That would take so much focus and determination — " She shook her head and looked back at the board. "No use arguing with reality. Who are you?"

L . . . Y . . . N . . . E . . . T.

"Is it her?" Bishop wondered.

"I don't know. But whoever it is, we'd better pay attention," Miranda said. "What is it you want, Lynet?"

Bishop picked up a pad and pencil from a nearby table and jotted down the letters as Miranda spelled the response aloud.

WARN YOU.

"Warn us about what?"

BONNIE.

Miranda felt a chill. "What about Bonnie?"

IN DANGER.

Miranda looked at Bishop, then returned her attention to the board. Holding her voice steady, she said, "You mean Bonnie's still in danger, Lynet?"

YES. FROM THE OTHER.

"What other?"

ANOTHER CAME IN WHEN THEY OPENED DOOR FOR ME.

"Lynet—"

BAD MAN. VERY BAD MAN. WANTS BONNIE.

Miranda had a sudden, frantic realization that in the relief of all of them surviving the confrontation with MacBride, she had forgotten something vitally important. The danger to Bonnie that wasn't flesh and blood. The danger of a spirit so desperate to live again it had nearly killed her. She looked at Bishop. "I thought Bonnie was only at risk here in this house, at least for a while, but—"

"Look," he said.

The planchette circled madly, stopping several times on NO, and then began spelling slowly.

DANGER NOW. HE'S BEEN WITH HER ALL ALONG. WATCHING HER. WAITING. HE KNOWS SHE'S TIRED NOW, WEAKENED. HE MEANS TO GET HER TONIGHT.

"Jesus," Miranda whispered. "But. . . how? Who would have a connection to her strong enough that he could find her so quickly?"

"Who is it, Lynet?" Bishop demanded. "Who is this bad man?"

The planchette was motionless for several seconds, then spelled slowly: Lewis Harrison.

Miranda and Bishop didn't waste another moment asking questions, they just ran for the door.

Halfway to the clinic, Miranda broke the tense silence to say, "Six and a half years? Dead all that time and he's still a threat to us?"

"Bonnie was the one who got away, literally," Bishop said. "The only one of his victims to actually survive. He was psychic — he must have known or realized at some point that she was a medium. Maybe he even touched her mind there at the last moment, established a connection she wasn't even aware of. So all these years he's bided his time, waited for her to open a door for him. If you hadn't protected her in every sense of the word, he would have gotten to her years ago."

"And when she opened the door to let in poor little Lynet, he came in too. Bonnie told me she had a bad feeling about it. That's one of the reasons she got Seth and Amy out of the house so quickly. But he got to her anyway. The house couldn't hold him."

"We'll stop him, Miranda."

"Stop him how?" Her voice was shaky. "Noah, I've been in contact with people trying to fight off an invading spirit, remember? I know what hell they're trapped in. What I don't know is how to free them from that torment."

"We'll find a way. You saw this, Miranda, remember?"

"I didn't see this," she protested.

"Of course you did. It wasn't a visual image but an absolute certainty. You've known for weeks that I'd save Bonnie's life."

"You've already saved her."

He reached over and took her hand. "Think about it. You're the one who saved Bonnie, Miranda. You took down MacBride before he could hurt Bonnie. I saved your life. His gun was pointed at you."

Miranda wasn't sure he was right, but she stopped arguing. Of course they would save Bonnie, somehow. Anything else was just unthinkable.

Abstractedly, she said, "Have I thanked you for that, by the way?"

"You will," he said cryptically.

There was no time to question him now, since they had reached the clinic. They hurried straight to Bonnie's room and found a distraught Seth watching his father examine Bonnie. She was lying in the bed, still and silent — but her eyes were wide open.

"I was about to call you," Seth told Miranda, his voice cracking. "She was okay, she was sleeping, you'd told us she'd probably sleep all night without waking. But all of a sudden she made this little sound, like something hurt her or scared her — and her eyes opened. She's been like that ever since."

Colin Daniels straightened and frowned as he gazed down at Bonnie. "I don't understand this. Her pulse and blood pressure are normal, pupils normal, reflexes." He looked straight at Miranda. "I know what she's capable of, what she did today, and I know how much it drains her, but this is something different."

"Something very different. Her body is fine, Colin," Miranda said, stepping to the side of the bed. She started to reach for her sister's hand, but Bishop spoke before she could.