“Not quite the outcome you were hoping for?” Cassius reached out, his hand closed around hers. Her eyes flicked down at the contact.
“There was nothing I could do,” she whispered.
“That, I believe,” Cassius replied. His eyes slid to Detective Carter, who nodded once.
“Mrs. Angelov, those are all the questions we have right now. If we need any further information, may we contact you at your residence?”
“You know the address,” Lara replied, struggling to keep the annoyance from her voice.
“Yes, we do.” Detective Carter offered her a cold smile. Rising, he shoved his chair back, the legs scraped on the floor, setting Lara’s teeth on edge. “And we ask that you don’t leave town, at least not until this matter is closed.”
“I know the drill,” Lara replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She gritted her jaw and rose. “Detective Carter, Mr. Broxsby, thank you for your invaluable service. I’m certain you have more pressing cases to tend to—”
“This case is our sole focus at the moment,” Cassius replied, standing as well.
“Then I suppose I shall be seeing more of you.” Lara inclined her head. “If you excuse me, I have a funeral to begin planning.”
She walked from the interview room, her back stiff, and followed the familiar hallway toward the exit. She’d spent a lot of time in the police precinct over the past four years and recognized several faces as she completed her “walk of shame”.
The ten-minute distance between her house and the police station was never long enough, and too soon she found herself standing in front of her mailbox. The picket fence on which James landed, had been removed, along with his body, tagged as evidence. Not that she wanted the fence back, but the open space looked like a wound ripped across the front of the yard.
With a sigh, she walked past the mailbox, her feet heavy on the stone steps leading to the house. Milo was waiting for her, as he always was. At the last moment, she swerved to her left, heading toward the sunflower patch. Three sunflowers in total, soon to four, the additional one in honor of James. Her gaze dropped to the base of the third flower, the thickest of the three... Milo’s final resting place.
“Kind of late for regret, don’t you think?” Milo appeared beside her, shimmering in the early afternoon. She didn’t glance up.
“I don’t regret the sunflower patch.” She felt his anger flare.
“How did it go?”
“They assigned someone new to assist Detective Carter”—Milo snickered at the name— “a consultant named Cassius Broxsby.”
“I’ve never heard of him. You must have done something to draw their suspicion.”
“Three dead fiancés would attract anyone’s attention.” She scowled at him. “We need to back off for a while.”
“No, I’m not waiting.” Milo folded his arms, mirroring her stance. “You will find me someone tonight.”
“So, you can kill them too?”
“James’ death was an accident.”
“What were Max’s and Tyler’s?
“Experiments.” Milo floated closer, and reached out one finger, trailing it over her bare arm. “Do you know why James died?”
Lara shook her head, fighting the shudder that accompanied Milo’s ghostly touch.
“Because he loved you.” Milo laughed; the derisive sound sent ice sliding down Lara’s spine. “He thought he was protecting you. Idiot. He flung himself out the window, I had nothing to do with it... James killed himself.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Do you want to know what it feels like, when I possess you?” Milo’s voice dropped to a sinister whisper. “I can make you do anything I want.”
Without waiting for Lara’s response, he slammed into her chest, spreading himself through her body. His laughter filled her mind, reverberating through her brain. She fell to her knees, her hands clamped over her head.
“Stop,” she whimpered.
Milo forced her right hand forward, digging her fingers into the dirt surrounding the sunflower. She struggled against him; pain vibrated through her arm. He shoved her fingers deeper into the ground, breaking her fingernails, before raking her hand backward. He repeated the process, forcing her hand to scrape itself through the dirt again and again, until she revealed the fingerbone of a skeleton.
With a shudder, Milo released her body, and she slumped over, heaving. Her gaze locked on the bone, visible beneath the exposed sunflower roots. Someone was going to see something, and if Detective Carter found Milo’s skeleton... he was the type of man to ask for the death penalty.
Pushing herself up on her knees, she cradled her injured hand to her chest. Without looking at Milo’s glowing form, she scraped the dirt back in place with her left hand, covering the bone, and patted down the area surrounding the sunflower’s base.
“Still want to volunteer to be my next victim?” he murmured in her ear.
“If it meant I’d be dead and free of you.” She glanced back at him, sweat pouring down her face. Her shirt clung to her chest. Milo’s hungry gaze followed a bead of sweat as it rolled between her breasts.
“You’re not going to get away from me that easily, Lara. I’m not going to let you die. I’ve just discovered a new way to motivate you, and if you don’t do as I say—” his eyes glowed. Reaching out, he placed his hand against her chest, and pushed into her torso, his ghostly fingers expanding inside her, “—I’m going to take it out on your body.”
CHAPTER 4
She was an angel. With long, flowing blonde hair and emerald green eyes, Lara Angelov was a beauty. Long lashes gracefully batted each time she spoke. It was no wonder men fell to their knees before her.
Cassius had seen her pictures many times before on the news and in the newspaper articles. But they didn’t do her justice. She was a goddess.
He shook his head. He needed to stay focused on the task at hand, and at the moment, it was staying close behind Mrs. Angelov and following her back to her house. Sure, he was going behind the detective’s back and taking matters into his own hands, but he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to know what had really happened in the Angelov residence that morning.
His eyes took in her form as he watched her race fiercely across the lawn and up to her front door. From where he stood, it appeared as though she couldn’t get inside fast enough. She kept looking over her shoulders. Did she suspect someone had been following her?
Had he been careless, allowing her to catch wind of him? No. He hadn’t been. His prudent behavior had ensured his stealthiness.
But why did she look so frightened right now, fumbling with the front door? What was she running from? She had only been out of his sight for a few minutes; he purposely kept a certain distance between the two of them. But what had he missed?
Why did she appear to have seen a ghost? Her face, which was already a porcelain hue, appeared to have turned to the color of a sheet of paper. Something didn’t seem right. Something was definitely off.
Looking around, Cassius patiently waited for Lara to finish fumbling with her keys and enter her home, which upon doing so, he gave himself two minutes before crossing the street and walking up her walkway.