“Easy as pie. I guess you never paid much attention to Tommy. Growing up, no one ever did. He was a loser. He had acne and he was clueless and awkward. Poor Tommy. He was so willing to get into this scheme with me. So helpful. He even broke into Wendy’s for me to steal her computer, and he trashed the place so it wouldn’t look obvious. Mo, he thinks he hit pay dirt with me. I haven’t decided what I’ll do about Tommy. But for now...I convinced him we’d put one over on the cop—and then just walk away.”
“I doubt it. They probably have Tommy by now—and he’s probably telling them everything.”
“He would never betray me. He wanted to do all this. He wanted to help me. Mo, he swore he’d do anything for me! I told him I could handle this and that when they found me, I’d convince them it was the detective. Then Aidan could go on thinking that yes, Highsmith’s people were involved. Which is exactly what he thinks, you know. I realized that whenever I overheard him talking about what happened—and I made a point of overhearing him. Now it’ll all fit together. Aidan will figure they were in on it with the detective. He’ll spend the rest of his life wondering, but he’ll never prove anything!”
“But Tommy—”
“When they find me here and they know this has all taken place when Tommy wasn’t anywhere nearby—well, he’ll be in the clear.”
“So Tommy did what he did out of...love. Some screwed-up, twisted kind of love.”
“You could say that. But I can tell you he started to like it. Killing—even just hearing a killing that you orchestrated—is exhilarating! And maybe we’ll share the treasure. That’s what I promised him, anyway. But...we’ll see.”
“You said Wendy helped you put it all together....” Mo decided to keep her talking. It worked in mystery novels and suspense movies—and at this point she had nothing to lose.
“Yeah, it was just a matter of sorting out all the pieces. See, Sondra knew about the currency and she knew the tale about Lizzie, but like I told you, she didn’t know who Lizzie had become. The little girl, Lizzie, I mean, who married into the Highsmith family. I did—because of Wendy! Sweet Wendy, who loved to confide in me! Anyway, I’m probably running out of time. They’ll come here, and they have to find you and the kid and the detective dead—and me bleeding.”
“You’ve not only betrayed Wendy, you’re an idiot,” Mo said flatly. “Aidan’s figured all of this out.”
Debbie lifted the knife. “No. He thinks I’m beautiful and kind. Ask him! You know, I wanted to be nice to you, Mo. You were always decent—at least before. But I guess you’re as big a jerk as the others.” Debbie started to move her arm; Mo eluded her, dashing to the other side of the low flat tomb.
In her flurry of movement, she kicked Jimmy Voorhaven’s arm.
She thought he stirred.
Debbie made another lunge for Mo, and Mo jumped back against the tomb again.
Then Jimmy started to move in earnest. Debbie swore—and raised the knife to bring it down on him. Mo started to fly at her, but she didn’t have to. She heard a roar as Rollo came running out of the darkness and shadows. He leaped at Debbie, knocking her off her feet. But Debbie still had the knife and Rollo’s throat was vulnerable.
“Here! Rollo, here!” Mo commanded. She wouldn’t risk a human life for her dog, but neither would she let him die needlessly.
He scrambled back to her—just in time to miss the blade of the knife.
Debbie staggered to her feet at the same moment Jimmy did. He reached for his gun, but it was gone. She’d apparently had the sense to disarm him. He was weaving as he stood, still drugged, barely conscious.
“What...what...” he muttered.
The hatchet remained by the tomb. Mo jumped for it just as another sound caused the earth to shudder; it was the iron door of the vault being shoved in.
For a second, Mo saw nothing but the silhouette of a man, larger than life, standing in the doorway.
“It’s him! He’s the killer!” Debbie cried, pointing at Jimmy.
“No, no. Don’t...don’t shoot me,” Jimmy said, still confused.
“It was him. He forced me here, he—”
“Oh, get over it!” Aidan snapped. “Debbie Holloway, you’re under arrest for the murders of Richard Highsmith, Wendy Appleby and Sondra Burke. And for the kidnapping of—”
He didn’t finish. Debbie had apparently decided that suicide by cop was going to be better than the life she would encounter in prison.
Shrieking, she rushed Aidan with the knife high in her hands.
He didn’t intend to let her die so easily. He stooped down just as she reached him, letting her fly over his head onto the dirt path beyond. Then he hurried toward her, knocked the knife away with his foot and thrust her hands back to cuff her.
She began spouting all kinds of furious and vindictive words at him. He ignored her, walking back into the tomb, seeking Mo. She saw that he hadn’t come alone; Van Camp, Logan, the rest of Aidan’s Krewe and other cops were out there, too.
Aidan paused in front of Jimmy Voorhaven.
“You going to be okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Jimmy sagged against the tomb behind him.
Then Aidan knelt by J.J., and Mo heard his sigh of relief.
After that, he walked over to Mo. He took her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Mo?”
“I’m okay!” she said. “Really dirty, sore, but...Tommy. Aidan, she did this with Tommy.”
“I know. He and I had a little talk.” He smiled at her and dusted dirt from her face. “A lot has happened since you went down your rabbit hole,” he told her.
Rollo barked. Mo began shaking.
She was alive. Her dog was alive.
And Aidan was standing there, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She threw her arms around him and held him close for a minute. Then she drew back. “We need help in here. J.J. and Jimmy— Well, Jimmy’s up now, but J.J.’s still out, and if he wakes up in a tomb again—”
Aidan turned and went straight to the fallen boy. He picked him up gently and walked out of the tomb. Mo followed.
Van Camp had Debbie’s arm in a tight grip. She was still cursing, but he ignored her, calmly chanting her rights.
As Mo went with Aidan to take J.J. to a waiting ambulance, she saw something beautiful.
A man and a woman. Richard and Wendy.
They were ahead of Van Camp and Debbie on the path, holding hands and gazing at each other. The man seemed to smile.
When Debbie passed, he extended a spectral foot.
Debbie sprawled onto the gravel path, literally eating dirt.
The pair turned toward them. Mo could just hear Richard. “Thank you, my old friend,” he called to Aidan.
Aidan lifted a hand. “No, thank you,” he said softly.
“I’ll be going to the hospital with J.J.,” Mo told him.
“I’ll be right with you,” he said. “Always.”
Epilogue
Mo ran down the stairs, followed by Rollo. She was, Aidan had decided, more than attractive. She was beautiful, not just in her face and form, but in her voice, her movements—in her life and her vibrancy.
“People will be over soon,” she told him. “And I still have so much to do—” She broke off when the doorbell rang. She ran over, looked through the little window and opened the door. Grace had arrived with Jimmy Voorhaven and J.J.
Aidan was still astonished that it had all worked out so quickly. Mo had been spending a lot of time at the hospital, which meant that Grace kept going there, too. Jimmy was also in the hospital, and Grace had begun splitting her visits between Jimmy and J.J.
Mo had told Aidan that Grace—being Grace—hadn’t messed around. She’d gone straight after Jimmy and had sex a lot faster than Mo had m
anaged. Grace and Jimmy were already engaged. Mo was creating the invitations for their wedding, which would take place that summer—only four months away.
It was amusing and a little worrisome. They were head over heels within a week. Grace had J.J. living with her and was working with social services to be his foster parent and, hopefully, adopt him one day.
It was great for J.J., who needed plenty of love and care. Grace turned out to be the perfect guardian for him—patient, relaxed, honest.
In fact, that was part of why Mo was so excited about today. She had a present for J.J., one that Grace—and Jimmy—would love, too.
But right now they were waiting for everyone. Purbeck was coming with Van Camp, Jillian Durfey, Taylor Branch and the security trio. Logan, Sloan, Will and Jane were, too. And they hadn’t forgotten Phil and Ron, who’d actually invited themselves when they’d learned Mo was having a last-day-in-town-for-a-while dinner.
Mo needn’t have worried about getting everything ready. Once Jane was there, she organized everyone, assigning tasks, and in another hour, they were all seated in the huge, old-fashioned dining room, the chairs around the table a little close, but that was fine. Mo had prepared a roast and all kinds of vegetables and side dishes, and everyone who’d been involved with the case was there.
Once dinner was over, talk turned to the case that had brought them all together.
“I really have no hard feelings,” Jillian assured Aidan, not for the first time.
“You were on the right track all along,” Logan noted. “It had to have been someone close. We were just looking at Richard, not Wendy.”
Will was off with J.J. in another room, teaching him card tricks, so it seemed safe to speak about the events. No one wanted to distress him by bringing up what had happened to his mother—or Debbie, of whom he’d been so fond.
“Wait!” Jillian said. “I still don’t understand. How did the chloroform get in my drawer?”
Logan stepped in to explain. “Debbie actually bragged about that. We—all of us in law enforcement—were so stupid. Anyone could have done it. She just went to the hotel and pretended to be a guest. Ironically, she did become a guest later on. But that day she took the elevator up to your floor and got a passkey off a maid’s cart. You have to remember that until Will set up his cameras, there was no surveillance there.”
“I hope she rots in hell!” Jillian spat.
“For someone like her, prison will be hell on earth,” Aidan assured her.
“And what about creepy Tommy?” Grace asked. She shivered, and Jimmy placed an arm around her shoulders.
“Tommy. Who knows the real truth about Tommy, except that he’ll be locked away for the rest of his life?” Logan said. “I can understand that a man like him could be taken in by a woman like Debbie, but still...he went into the whole scheme, ready for blood and death and whatever she called for.”
“Did you get the treasure from Lizzie’s grave?” Jillian asked. She lowered her voice. “Did you get the money—the Continental money or whatever it was—for J.J.?”
Aidan nodded. “We had the body exhumed within a few days. The notes were tucked into the coffin. They’ll be offered to various historical societies, but wherever they go, they’ll sell for a pretty price, and the money will be set aside for J.J. in a trust.”
“I’m sure he’d rather have had his parents,” Jillian said sadly.
“I’m sure,” Aidan agreed. “We’d all rather have had them alive.”
The doorbell rang. Grace started to rise. “I’ll get it, Mo.”
“No, I will,” Mo said, grinning at Aidan. “I’m expecting someone special!”
She hurried out with Rollo at her heels, and came back in again carrying a puppy. It was a floppy-looking thing, almost ugly. Aidan smiled.
“J.J., this is Brian Boru, and he’s yours. His mom is one of Rollo’s cousins, so our dogs are related. How’s that?” Mo asked.
J.J.’s face was bright enough to light up the room. He stared at Mo wide-eyed. “For me, really?” he asked breathlessly.
Grace groaned. “Oh, my God. It’s a good thing we’re getting married. We’ll need two incomes to keep him in food!” She looked at Mo, breaking into a huge grin, and whispered, “Wow, thank you!”
J.J. was excused to play with his new puppy. Rollo, naturally, joined them.
“So, you’re really leaving us,” Ron said, turning to Mo.
She smiled, raising her glass to him. “Ah, Ron, do any of us ever really leave Sleepy Hollow? I’ll just be in the city. Rollo and I are moving in with Aidan, but I’ll still own this place and we’ll be back all the time.”
Ron stood up and nodded at Phil and Grace. “Well, we have a present for you, too,” he told her.
He produced a box. She carefully unwrapped and then opened it. “This is so beautiful! Aidan, look, it’s ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ and ‘Rip Van Winkle’ and other tales by Washington Irving—with gold-trimmed pages. Oh, guys, this is gorgeous!”
“We were afraid you’d forget us,” Phil said. “We wanted to remind you of everything that was good here, too.” He gave her an awkward smile. “I know there was a lot of...ugliness, but we don’t want you to associate us with all of that.”
“Of course not! Friends are one of the best parts of life and I couldn’t possibly forget any of you.”
Dinner went on until it was time for goodbyes. Aidan didn’t have to report in to the New York office tomorrow, but he had to be there early the next day. He’d figured if they left by the afternoon it would be fine.
But when the others left, the second set of arrivals began. Candy and Daniel, of course, who were always at the house or nearby. And then Richard and Wendy showed up. And they began talking to each other in the dining room. The four of them were going deep into history and creating their own party.
“It’s a little busy in there,” Aidan noted, putting a dish away.
“Not quite our private haven, is it?” she asked. She came over to him, pressing him against the counter and touching his lips in a brief kiss. “You know,” she said, slipping her arms around him, “there’s an incredible hotel near us, here in Tarrytown. It’s the Castle Hotel and Spa and it really looks like a castle. The rooms are gorgeous. And there’s room service with things like champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. We could slip away, and then just come back here in the morning. I’m pretty much packed. There are suites at this place, so Rollo can even have his own little room.”
“Sounds...private,” he murmured.
She smiled. In another ten minutes, they were leaving, but their guests didn’t even notice them.
As he stood by the driver’s door, ready to open it, Aidan found himself looking down the river toward Sunnyside, the home Washington Irving had loved so much.
The sun was setting, and the light seemed to be doing strange things.
But he thought he saw Irving standing there, straight and regal, supported by his walking stick, as if he were out for a constitutional.
A train went rumbling by. The vision of Washington Irving lifted his stick at the metal monster, shaking it.
Then he saw Aidan. He smiled and doffed his hat.
Aidan smiled back and waved, then slid into the driver’s seat and started the car.
He’d come home. He’d found home.
Sleepy Hollow would remain part of him.
But with Mo...
He would always be home.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE HEXED by Heather Graham.
“Graham deftly weaves elements of mystery, the paranormal and romance into a tight plot that will keep the reader guessing at the true nature of the killer’s evil.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Unseen
If you loved The Betrayed, b
e sure to also catch all the titles in the popular and dark Krewe of Hunters series by New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham. Available now wherever ebooks are sold!
The Hexed
The Cursed
The Night Is Forever
The Night Is Alive
The Night Is Watching
The Uninvited
The Unspoken
The Unholy
The Unseen
The Evil Inside
Sacred Evil
Heart of Evil
Phantom Evil
Looking for more Heather Graham? Then don’t miss Waking the Dead and all the titles in the Cafferty & Quinn series.
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HarlequinBlog.com
1
Every once in a while Devin Lyle couldn’t help herself. People did such outrageous things sometimes that she just had to step in.
She stepped forward, positioning herself a little closer to the group standing by the memorial so she could hear what they were saying.
“Burn, witch! Burn!” a young man said. Despite his words, he was actually reverently placing a flower on the bench dedicated to one of the victims of the witch trials.
“How horrible. I can’t even imagine burning to death,” an older woman said.
“Excuse me,” Devin said. “None of the condemned in Salem were burned. Nineteen were hanged, and one man, Giles Corey, was pressed to death.”
“Really?” The older woman sounded relieved. “Not that hanging must have been less than horrible, but to burn...” She shuddered.
“Almost any tour you take in Salem is going to tell you about the victims—and tell you that no one was burned,” Devin said. They were all staring at her, and she suddenly felt self-conscious. She wasn’t a tour guide, after all. She wrote sweet, fun children’s books about a slightly crazy “witch.”