Medium Chris Wilson is used to the dead, but the living Derek Brandt is her biggest challenge yet. As they hunt for his brother's killer, the wall between skeptic and believer begins to crumble. In a house full of restless spirits, their uneasy alliance might just become the one thing they can't live without.
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The ride was mostly silent. Jim Lansing never lowered his gun, nor did he speak. Neither did Chris as she thought through her options. She considered trying to talk him down and reason with him, but he didn’t exactly strike her as a reasonable guy. She absolutely believed he would shoot her if he thought she was up to anything, such as sending coded messages to the spirits that followed her.
Ron, for her part, murmured words of assurance to Chris, but otherwise, she kept uncharacteristically silent. Chris stole enough glances at her to see how worried she was.
The silence was broken with the reappearance of Joe in the crowded cab. “I found them. Derek knows what’s happening. Once we find out where you’re headed, he’ll send help.”
Chris blinked to acknowledge that she’d heard him. The spark of hope inspired by his news was short-lived as she realized that neither Derek nor the police were likely to arrive in time. It would be up to the three of them to get her out of this. She hoped their next attempt would go better than the one they’d made back at the house.
The fact that Lansing didn’t bother to either blindfold Chris or to obscure their route told her that he wasn’t worried that she could identify him. He intended to kill her, pure and simple.
Her stomach flipped over and her chest turned cold as he left the main road and drove up a gravel path. Steel girders rose into the air ahead of them, forming the frame of a high-rise silhouetted against the night sky.
The truck rolled up to a chain-link gate that looked like it had long ago ceased doing its job of keeping people out. Jim killed the engine and the lights. Then he turned to Chris. “This is where we get out. Keep your good arm where I can see it and slide out of the truck.” He kept both his gaze and the gun trained on her as he climbed out.
“Joe—” Ron began, but he cut her off.
“I’m going. But I’ll be right back.”
“No, you should stay.” Ron turned back to Chris, her expression apologetic and anxious. “I can give them better directions.”
“Can’t really argue with that,” said Joe.
“I’ll be right back,” Ron promised. Then she vanished.
“Miss Wilson, get out of the truck,” Lansing ordered, an edge creeping into his voice. Chris raised her good hand in the air and scooted slowly out of the truck.
“Derek knows,” she told him as he gripped her good arm and led her to the gate. “That’s the whole point of killing me, right? So he wouldn’t find you out?”
Jim snorted. “He doesn’t know. How could he?” He shoved her toward the fence and indicated the space between the gates, held together by a rusted chain, just wide enough to squeeze through. “You first.”
Chris didn’t oblige him. “Let’s just say I have friends in high places. Higher than the ones that have apparently aided and abetted you all these years.”
“Is this some of that psychic mumbo-jumbo?”
“I’m not a psychic,” she told him. “What I am is called a medium. That means I’m connected to the spirit world in ways you’ll never understand. I have allies that you can’t see, can’t fight, and certainly can’t shoot with that gun of yours, and they are not going to let you do this.”
It was clear by his expression that he didn’t believe a word. “Through the gate,” he ordered. “Now.”
Chris sighed and squeezed under the chain. Joe met her on the other side. “Did I mention that this man’s son was with Derek and Jimmy? He knows, too.”
Chris smiled at him, then turned and watched as Jim squeezed through behind her, his girth giving him more difficulty. Still, he never pointed the gun away from her, not even for a second. “Your son knows,” she told him.
He froze. His features weren’t easy to see in the dark, but she thought she saw fear there for the first time.
Then he laughed it off and shoved himself through the opening. “Nice try. Start walking.” He jerked his chin toward the construction site.
Chris glanced at Joe as she started up the gravel path. She saw none of the machines or equipment typically seen on an active construction site. As they drew closer to the building skeleton, she spotted weeds growing up around the foundation, confirming her suspicion that the project had been abandoned.
In other words, it was the perfect place to murder someone and hide the body.
Ron appeared beside her. “They’re coming. They’re bringing the police.”
Chris closed her eyes and uttered a silent thank you. Then she told Jim, “I’m not alone, you know. You have witnesses. They know how to communicate with Derek. And with Steve. They’re both coming, by the way, and they’re bringing the police. There’s no way you’re getting away with this. So we should just stop right now and go back to the truck and call this whole thing a wacky misunderstanding. Nobody needs to know what really happened.”
Jim poked her in the ribs with the barrel of the pistol, hard enough to hurt. “Quiet. Keep walking.”
“I know you don’t want to do this,” Chris persisted. “You didn’t want to kill Jimmy. You just wanted to help your son. You’re doing this for him, too, right? So he won’t find out what you did? So his career and reputation won’t be ruined?”
He remained silent. He didn’t hurt her or threaten her, so she considered that progress. Then he said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think I do. I think you aren’t a killer, not really. You’re just a father who loves his son so much that you’ll do anything for him. Even if it hurts other people. Even if it destroys your soul.”
“Quiet!” They reached the construction. He grabbed her good arm and steered her over to a wooden plank that acted as a ramp up to the foundation floor. “Up.”
The plank was nothing more than a narrow two-by-four that had been propped up against the foundation, which rose several feet above the ground. It wobbled and bounced in the middle as Chris made her way up it. She almost lost her balance, but Ron appeared beside her and steadied her.
Once she reached the top, she turned to watch Jim attempt it. He did fine until he reached the middle. He had to flail his arms for balance, finally taking the gun off of her.
“Joe—” Ron said, but he was already in motion, flying at the old man and knocking him completely off-balance. He fell and landed hard in the gravel below, dropping the gun in the process. Ron wasted no time rushing over and kicking it away from him.
“Run!” she shouted, but Chris didn’t wait for the command. She hopped down from the foundation, ignoring the sharp pain that shot up through her ankles on impact with the ground. She ran as hard and as fast as she could down the road toward the fence, not looking back to see what Jim was doing.
She struggled to see where she was going. A couple of times, she slipped in the gravel, but she kept going. As the gate came into sight the way before her became bathed in light. She saw another car, parked next to the truck, headlights ablaze. Derek!
A figure stood in front of the headlights. Not Derek. Too big to be Derek. Steve, maybe? But he was alone, whoever he was. Where was Derek?
She was so close. She opened her mouth to call for help. That’s when the gunshot rang out and pain exploded as something tore through her flesh.
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