Page 72 of Murder Will Out
For half an instant, Audra considered it. She had Naomi’s jewelry, plenty of money, and a stash of convincing fake IDs; she could leave this godforsaken island and make a new life, an ordinary life, for herself and never have to see this place again.
But I’m not ordinary, she told herself fiercely.I won’t be cowed orsent away or dismissed. Especially since I haven’t accomplished what I came here for.
First, Willow Stone would die. And then Audra would crawl over her body and claim for herself everything Geralt Talbot had owned.
Patricia’s gun might be useless to her now, but it wasn’t like she’d come unprepared. She pulled her large folding knife from her pocket and opened it, enjoying the heft of the handle, and smiled at Willow. “Once you’re dead, we’re still back to me as heir. And even if I would have considered leaving this place standing”—she turned her gaze to the ghosts all around her, her lip curling in contempt—“now that I’ve met you, I have to say I have no interest in protecting your precious homestead.”
At that, the ghosts shifted, murmuring to one another, and stepped in a little closer. Audra tried not to shiver. She wasn’t afraid of them, she told herself.
She looked back at Joel; he was whispering into Willow’s ear. A burst of fury went through her. “What?” she demanded. “What are you saying to her?”
Joel and Willow ignored her.
“Are you ready?” Joel asked.
Willow nodded.
His gaze raked the room, taking in each of the ghostly inhabitants of Cameron House. Audra saw each of them meet his eyes; some stood a little taller, some nodded almost imperceptibly, and she saw on a few of their faces faint smiles of fierce anticipation.
For the first time, Audra DuBois felt a stab of real fear, felt control of the situation slipping away from her. “What?” she demanded, her voice rising to a shriek. “Stop it, all of you, stop it! This house is mine by right, and I deserve it, so to hell with all of you—andespeciallyyou, Willow Stone!”
As she shrieked the other woman’s name, Audra raised her arm and lunged forward with the blade, intent on burying it in Willow’s heart.
“Now,” she heard Joel murmur to Willow as he stepped forward and jabbed his fountain pen into Audra’s knife hand. Willow did not hesitate but turned and ran to the rear of the library.Stupid, Audra thought, wincing at the pain in her hand; it hurt, a lot, but the ghost creep with the fountain pen hadn’t done anything but slow her down a little. And get her good and mad.Where exactly does she think she’s going to hide? I’m faster and stronger and—
Suddenly, Audra realized she didn’t know exactly where she was or what direction she was facing. A sea of faintly glowing spirits surrounded her like a thick mist full of faces; she could no longer see the fireplace or Willow or anything but the surrounding press of bodies—
Then she remembered they had no bodies.
“Get away from me!” she screamed, slashing around ineffectually with her knife.
For a fragment of a moment, they fell back; Audra heard the faint sound of a door closing—upstairs? In the corner of the library?
She realized what had happened, both now and earlier; there was a second exit from the library through a hidden door upstairs; Willow knew about it, and Audra had not. Audra’s target had taken that way out, doubtless planning to run downstairs and out of the house while the ghosts held Audra up in the library.The hell you will, Audra thought.You think you’ve beaten me, but I know where you are, and I’ll get you.
She sprinted for the foyer, past the empty umbrella stand, and up the front stairs, shouldering through the sea of people who both were and were not there.
In the library, the Cameron family exchanged glances and were gone.
Willow cracked openthe hidden library door and peeked out into the second-floor hallway. No sign of Audra yet, but theyoung woman in the maid’s uniform was there, busily dusting the stair rails with a feather duster. She saw Willow, held up her finger for her to wait, and snuck a few steps down to listen into the library; a second later, she returned, nodding furiously and gesturing Willow to hurry.
Willow hesitated at the stairway, every fiber of her being yearning to run downstairs and out of the house. Instead, she headed for the third floor, up, higher.
“It has to end,” Joel had whispered into her ear. “You know that. And you know where.”
She knew. She dreaded it, but she knew.
When Willow heard the first footfall on the grand staircase by the front door, she deliberately looked over the railing so Audra would see where she had gone; their plan would only work if Audra followed her. Sure enough, the other woman locked eyes with her and, with a snarl on her face, leaped up the stairs two at a time.
She’s quick, Willow thought in dismay, running as fast as she could, pushing through aching knees and the tightness in her chest. The drugs from the night before were mostly worn off, but her head still hurt. Audra had gained the second-floor landing before Willow even reached the top of the third.
Willow gave an extra lunge forward to reach the top—and kept running. Down the hall, into the little parlor at the end, and through the door that kept her going up, up, farther, till there was no place left to go.
Willow stepped onto the widow’s walk into the gray-cast light of a clouded dawn, with Audra seconds behind.
What was Joel thinking?
She pressed her body to the outside of the doorway, the only spot not visible to someone running up the stairs. But what then? Should she hope Audra slipped on the post-storm wet of the deck as she burst through the door? Take advantage of her disorientation to run back onto the staircase, slamming the door behindher and praying the ghosts could lock it long enough for her to get out, find a phone, and call Nick?
