The heather graham bundl.., p.69
The Heather Graham Bundle, page 69
tween agencies. One man would be assigned to liaison
with the New Orleans police. He found out who with
little difficulty—lots of cops came to Madame’s, too—
and killed the real Haggerty, dumping his body deep
in the bayou. Once he’d rid himself of the real agent,
he turned himself into the man. It wasn’t hard for him,”
he explained.
“He was a con, used to being a chameleon. He and
the real Haggerty were the same in size, they were
lean jawed…he cut his hair, bought contacts—and
counted on the fact that most ID pictures suck,” Mas-
sey said. He shook his head. “We should have known.
Our boss would get calls from the FBI, complaining
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387
that they hadn’t heard from him. Then he’d call in say-
ing he was onto something, and that he needed the oth-
ers to back off. Eventually, if he’d played it long
enough, he would have been caught. But he didn’t in-
tend to play it that long.”
“When did he intend to stop?” Patricia asked, puz-
zled.
“When Billy Banks was elected,” Brent said.
“What?” Max demanded, suddenly sitting up
straight and looking completely puzzled. “How the
hell…?”
“Massey and Joulette hit it on the head in the cem-
etery,” Brent said. “Billy Banks wanted to be big in pol-
itics, and he also needed money to bankroll his
campaign. He found Robert Greenwood and the world
of illicit drugs. Banks could move all kinds of deals,
get the stuff in, and pretend in the meantime that he was
going to be hard on crime. He made money, and he
tried to make Harold Grant look inept.”
“Great,” Max groaned. “It was a massive conspir-
acy. Banks at the head of it, Madame as a liaison, and
this pseudo-Haggerty fellow, Greenwood, running all
the dirty work. His underlings all used ski masks. I as-
sume that meant they never knew one another and
never knew Haggerty? Or Greenwood, I mean.”
“That’s pretty much how it went,” Brent said.
“And you suspected all of us,” Julian said with a
groan.
“It had to be someone close to Nikki and
Andy…and that was you all,” Brent explained.
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Heather Graham
“I wasn’t even here,” Max complained.
Brent offered an apologetic smile. “Billy Banks
never got his hands dirty—he was above it all. He was
just the financing.”
“My money is legitimate,” Max protested.
“I know,” Brent said.
Max stared at him.
“I checked you out, of course,” Brent said.
“The thing I don’t understand,” Julian said, puz-
zled, “is how you knew from seeing a decaying corpse
that Haggerty was fake.”
“Or,” Massey added with a shudder, “why the man
was struggling as if there were a gator chewing him apart
while he was lying on the ground. Why the hell he ad-
mitted everything…ratted on Billy Banks in seconds
flat.”
Brent smiled at Massey.
“I think you do,” he said softly.
Massey looked away. “Hell! All I know is that
thanks to you, Blackhawk, I need a vacation. One hell
of a vacation. And I’m going to get it. So is Joulette.
Shit. You had the two of us suspicious of one another,
sneaking around to check up on our own leads. We both
thought the other guy was ratting to Haggerty. Mean-
while, it was Madame giving him information.”
Mitch cleared his throat. “There’s still another ques-
tion. What was Haggerty—sorry, Greenwood—look-
ing for? What did he think Andy had? And once he’d
trashed her place and hadn’t found it…was that why
he went after Nikki, as risky as it was?”
Ghost Walk
389
“My purse is at a forensics lab,” Nikki told him.
“Whether it was true or not, we don’t know yet. But
Robert Greenwood believed that Tom Garfield had kept
information on a chip—that he’d filmed some of the
comings and goings and dealings he’d seen, and that,
knowing he was about to be a dead man, he’d passed
it on.”
“I’m sure they’ll find it,” Brent said softly. “It’s ei-
ther caught in the lining of Nikki’s purse—which is
why a girl who looks a lot like Nikki was mugged, and
then Nikki herself—or it’s on the clothing she was
wearing that day. We pretty much know everything.”
He glanced at Massey wryly again. “Thanks to Green-
wood’s mysterious confession.”
Max sighed and stared at Nikki. “You do realize that
we’re about to have the most popular tour company in
the entire parish, don’t you? We’ll have to hire a lot
more people. Of course, given the terrible circum-
stances we’ve recently lived through—”
“We? You just got back,” Julian protested.
“We. We’re just one big happy family, right?” Max
said. “I’ve canceled all tours for the next week. I be-
lieve we go on having customers meet here, but I’ll
have to work out the financial end with the owner.” He
stared at Brent with a sigh. “I guess you’re not really
working for me, are you?”
Nikki stared at Brent. He glanced her way with a dry
smile. “Now and then. When I can. And Nikki won’t
be around for a while, either.”
“Nikki?” Max said.
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Heather Graham
“You’re going to have to work yourself for a while.
I’m going with Brent to see the Wild West.”
“Ah, the Indian thing,” Max said sagely, then
quickly amended, “Sorry, Native American.”
Brent laughed. “We’re going on a honeymoon, to
the Grand Canyon.”
Max congratulated them; Julian rolled his eyes; Pa-
tricia shrieked, saying the wedding had better be in
New Orleans. Massey promised them a police escort
if they wanted one.
The talk and the explanations went on for a while,
until it seemed they had talked themselves out and si-
lence fell, but it was a pleasant silence.
Then Brent excused himself and Nikki, and asked
Massey to accompany them.
“Where are we going?” Massey asked.
“The cemetery.”
Massey groaned.
“No, no, it’s all right,” Brent told him. “You just
need to wait outside.”
“Then why are you taking me?”
“It’s illegal to be in there, of course,” Brent told
him. “Unless we have official permission.”
“I owe you. But don’t you go conjuring up any
ghosts. I didn’t see what I thought I saw last night.
You’ve just got something in your voice, and that’s
how you made Greenwood believe those fellows he’d
killed were next to him.”
Brent put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right,
Owen. Really.”
Ghost Walk
391
Massey groaned again.
At the cemetery, he stood guard as day ended and
dusk fell.
Hand in hand, Nikki and Brent entered. “Huey?”
Brent called.
Nikki saw the old man as he came out to greet them.
“Hey, there, Injun boy. And you, miss,” he said to
Nikki.
“I came to thank you, Huey,” Brent said. “And I
hope that, if I need you, you’ll be around.”
“Well…I don’t think I will be. I’ve just been wait-
ing on you comin’ around again,” Huey said.
“Oh?” Brent said with a frown.
Huey gave a broad grin. “You wouldn’t believe…
that pretty young gal came around again. Marie.”
“Old McManus’s descendant?” Nikki asked.
Huey nodded. “She done found that I have a great,
great…well, I don’t know how many greats. But I got
me a pretty descendant, too. A little girl just as sweet
as can be. And Miss Marie McManus, well, she
brought the girl to the graveyard with her momma, and
she showed her about where I’m supposed to be, and
they were talking, and the momma, she’s pretty poor,
but that Marie girl wants to be her big sister and pay
for piano lessons.”
“That’s nice, Huey. That’s really nice,” Brent said.
“But…”
“Well, you see, late at night, after the ruckus, I was
pretty proud. Felt like I’d stopped some bad stuff from
hitting the streets. And I reckon I was right enough to
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Heather Graham
feel proud, ’cause I saw this passage—prettiest passage
I ever done see, living or dead. It was like I was beck-
oned to follow, only it just wasn’t right yet. Today,
after seeing those girls…it’s right. I’m going to be
looking for it. Looking for the light.” Huey tilted his
chin, indicating that they should look behind them-
selves. “I’m thinking as how your friends there are
ready, too.”
Nikki spun around, as did Brent.
She knew, however, who she would see.
Andy. And Tom Garfield. She wasn’t surprised, and
she wasn’t frightened. She wasn’t even disturbed by the
cold when Andy came over to her and she felt the
strangest hug. There…but not there. Cold. And yet so
very warm. Andy kissed her cheek. “Thank you,” she
whispered.
“Andy…”
She felt tears rising in her eyes. “No,” Andy told her.
She winked. “That passage Huey is talking about…
well, you can’t imagine. And…”
She flicked her hair back, wickedly winking. “I
don’t have to go alone.”
The ghost of Tom Garfield reached out a hand to her.
Andy took it.
Nikki never actually saw any of them go down their
magnificent path.
They were just there, and then they were gone.
And then Brent whispered to her softly. “It’s time
for us to go now, too. We have a different path.”
She took his hand, and they left the cemetery together.
Ghost Walk
393
They took Massey and Joulette for drinks that eve-
ning, then went back to Nikki’s. Alone in the house,
they made love, then made love again, the act made
special by the simple fact that it was so physical. They
couldn’t help but feel so grateful and so alive.
Later, Brent rose while Nikki slept. He walked out
on the balcony.
New Orleans. Home.
It was a great place. A wonderful place. It was his
heart. Nikki had become his heart.
Um, yeah, it was full of ghosts. But they were great
ghosts.
It was also full of history, art, music, and wonder-
ful memories of the past.
And with Nikki in his life, it held a future full
of hope.
* * * * *
®
Dedicated to Teresa Davant, with all the thanks and love
in the world. Okay, so none of us look alike.
But you’ll still always be a “sister.”
Darkness and Shadows
PROLOGUE
What was it about the night and the little places where secrets
lurked that caused unease to stir in the human heart? It was the
unknown, of course. Primeval fear. Something deep within
human instinct that all of the civilization in the world could not
change.
Dr. Dana Sumter knew all about the psyche and the innate
responses to stimuli.Yet she didn’t like it one bit that it was still
dark when she returned, sliding her sleek Mercedes into the
driveway. She started to hit the garage door opener, then re-
membered that she couldn’t park in the garage; she was refur-
bishing the house and the garage was filled with old furniture
that would be picked up by a charity organization.
With a sigh, she simply parked. The engine now off, she was
suddenly aware of more than the darkness. She heard the sounds
of the day dawning. From somewhere far away, the shrill whine
of an emergency vehicle’s siren mingled with the distant, deep
bark of a large dog. There was a clattering and a screeching as
10
KILLING KELLY
alley cats fought somewhere. Then…just whispers in the shad-
ows as the wind picked up slightly, then died down again. The
sound was slightly ominous, like a deep, menacing breath…right
down her spine.
Dana was irritated to be out at that time of the morning, ir-
ritated that she’d agreed to do the crack-of-dawn news show.
Why had she? Oh, yes, her ratings had slipped because she’d
come down rather hard against a womanizing drunkard. The
switchboard at her daily syndicated show had gone off the light
beam after that. But still, there had been complaints. A lot of
people—men, mainly—calling in to say that she should be shot,
or coming up with various other colorful phrases, all in the
same vein.
She pulled down the visor mirror and studied her features.
Good. Maybe her face was a little narrow, a little hard, but bas-
ically, for her age, she was sleek, professional, attractive. She
lived carefully, didn’t smoke, seldom drank and exercised reg-
ularly. She gave a little sniff. She’d gotten a lot of f lak the time
she’d given the overweight housewife the advice to do something
about herself. She knew that people had expected her to say that
the husband was simply a louse for ignoring his wife. But on that
occasion, she’d gone the other way, telling the woman to buy the
South Beach Diet book, or do Atkins, or get thee to a gym! The
phones had rung off the hooks with people calling in, raging that
women were worthy of love no matter what their size. She’d
done one of her best shows ever after that, saying that being wor-
thy of love didn’t make it happen, that both men and women
were responsible to keep themselves up.
HEATHER GRAHAM
11
However, despite the fact that she had definitely improved her-
self to an even greater degree, she’d still caught Harvey red-handed
with a young thing half his age. But at least she’d had the self-re-
spect to follow her own advice!Yes, she was swift and brutal. The
best lawyers in town had helped her keep what was hers intact. He’d
made his pixie mistress into a trophy wife—until the trophy wife
had discovered that, without Dana, good old Harvey didn’t have
any money. And suddenly there was Harvey, out in the cold with
his dick in his hand.
When asked about her divorce, Dana was cool and calculated,
saying that in any marriage there could come a time when both
parties simply fell out of love. She forced herself to talk about
her ex-husband with affection, as if they were still friends. She
had survived the dissolution of her own marriage before the
public eye with great esteem, maintaining that, despite the fact
that their children were long grown, it was important to be
friends for their sakes.
Friends, my ass! She never should have married. Men were
all disloyal egoists who used women. She had simply learned to
use them back. Even the one fiasco she had endured years ago
in weakness was something she had turned to her advantage. And
over and over again, at that!
Done with the introspection, she opened her car door, ready
to head into her house.Yet she was surprised to still feel a faint
sense of unease as she sat in her car. She lived in a gorgeous house
on a well-lit main street in a very fashionable district of West-
chester, New York. Even when it was midnight, or in the wee
hours of the morning, cars went by constantly. She’d never felt
12
KILLING KELLY
in the least bit of danger, no matter what time she returned to
or left her house. But now…
She looked into the rearview window, but saw nothing. Still,
she waited.
Finally, feeling silly, she got out of the car and walked to her
front door. But she couldn’t help looking over her shoulder. Then
she chided herself. It was ridiculous for a grown woman to be afraid
of shadows and the sound of leaves rustling in the summer breeze.
At the front door she paused and looked around again. This
was odd, so odd. She felt the hairs at her nape standing on end.
But there was nothing, no one.
Telling herself to stop being an idiot, she slipped her key into
the lock and stepped in. Then she keyed in her number on the
