Dead to Her(101)

It made her want to cry. Cursed. Forever. And all because she saw a ghost.





62.

Marcie had put the ball back in the trunk, not knowing what else to do with it, and as she stared out at the hospital entrance through the pouring rain, she was sure that under the steady thrum of the purring engine she could hear it thumping against the trunk, demanding its release. It was a stupid thought. The ball was nothing, and she didn’t believe in voodoo, but still she shivered, remembering the feel of matted fur and blood and God only knew what else. It was disgusting.

She felt desolate and alone. She didn’t know why she’d come here. William couldn’t give her answers. William was simply another piece of the puzzle. Her, Keisha, Jason, and him, locked together in someone else’s game. Who was this actually about? All of them equally, or were some just disposable pawns around one main target? William, Keisha, and Jason were in some kind of torturous limbo, and Marcie was pretty sure that she was soon to join them. Someone had laid a bread-crumb trail for Anderson that led to her and she had no idea where the next blow would come from. Maybe she should run. She’d told Jason not to, and that hadn’t worked out so well for him. But how far would she get?

She was about to turn the car around and head home when a figure emerged through the hospital doors, head down against the steady rain. Marcie frowned as the person lifted her face for a second to see where she was going. She recognized that girl. But who was— Suddenly she had it. Of course! She leapt out of the car and ran, her drying clothes getting soaked again as she raced to catch up to the woman.

“Michelle!” She grabbed the young woman’s arm as she panted her name. Michelle from Michigan. The waitress at the club that William had taken a shine to and who’d then moved away. “I thought it was you.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed and she frowned for a moment before recognition dawned on her too. “Are you going to tell me I’m not allowed in too?”

“What? No, I was just surprised to see you. I didn’t know you were still close with William.”

“I’m not. She took care of that. But I heard what happened. I wanted to see him.” Her mouth tightened. “But apparently I can’t.”

“Who said you can’t?” And who took care of what?

“The nurse on reception wouldn’t let me in. She had instructions apparently. God, you’d think they’d have all gotten over our little fling now she’s dead.”

Marcie pulled the young woman into the shadow of the building, protecting them slightly from the rain. “What are you talking about? Now who’s dead?”

“The wife. The one who made me end it.” She stared at Marcie. “Wow, you really thought I went back to Michigan of my own accord? When I had a rich old guy who was sweet to me on a hook? Eleanor paid me to leave. She didn’t give me much choice, it was that or get fired from the club and be unemployable in the city.” Michelle shook her head.

“Eleanor knew about you and William?”

“She summoned me to the Browning room in the club to tell me she knew everything and she wouldn’t have me making a fool of her husband. Like some dying queen in her wheelchair, all powdered and perfect. She looked dead already. No wonder William was so repulsed by her.”

“Did William know she’d paid you off?” Marcie was starting to think that Michelle from Michigan and William would have made a delightful couple, each as mean as the other.

“Of course not. That was the other condition. I couldn’t say anything.” Michelle reached in her bag for a cigarette, taking three attempts to light it in the wet air. “I pitied her, so I took her money and went.”

No doubt planning to come back after Eleanor had died and pick up where she’d left off, Marcie thought. But William headed off to Europe, probably because he’d forgotten Michelle already, and then came back married.

“But it seems you people bear grudges. All I wanted was to know he was okay.”

And to get your foot back in that door. “Well, he’s not,” Marcie said. “He’s blind and locked in and his organs have massively failed. So even if you’d snuck into his room you wouldn’t have gotten any conversation out of him.”

“I’m done with all of you,” Michelle said, smoking hard, barely listening. “Y’all think you’re so much better than everyone else.”

“Sounds like in your case, most people are.” Marcie turned and walked away, ignoring the muttered bitch that followed her. She didn’t care what the girl thought of her. She didn’t care that the rain was soaking her to her skin again. Things were finally slotting into place.

Eleanor.

Everything came back to Eleanor. William had cheated on her when she was dying, and now he was half-dead. Jason had tried to steal from her, and she’d suspected that he’d been involved in the death of his father, Eleanor’s friend. Now he was going to prison for one crime and might be charged with murder yet. Keisha was William’s new wife. Married him for money, and now she was in a cell with nothing. But what about Marcie herself? Where did she fit in?

One thought overrode all her questions as she raced her car back out onto the street. Eleanor was dead and buried. She couldn’t be doing this. Someone else was doing it on her behalf. But who?

Eleanor. Sweet, elegant Eleanor. Ghosts would always have their vengeance.