His gaze turned white with fury when he grabbed the file on Roach’s family and marched straight back to the dining room, his legs heavy as if they’d turned into robotic attachments.
The lights weren’t flickering anymore. Roach sat there with his shoulders slouched, as if he were mourning his father’s death in that funeral suit, and it only infuriated Zane further. Karla held Roach’s hand on the table and they spoke too quietly for him to hear.
The peace wouldn’t last long.
He slammed the folder in front of Roach and braced both his hands on the woo-woo board, leaning forward as Karla’s eyes widened, shock flashing over her features in the moment she understood she’d been smoked out.
“So that’s how the ghosts speak to you? Convenient. Gee, if I knew I could have found out what my wife wanted from me from a magazine, I wouldn’t have bothered coming over here so late!” he roared so forcefully his throat stung as he uttered the final word. “Too bad you haven’t realized I don’t have a wife, because I’m gay. So gay that I had three guys in one night,” he said, pushing himself away from the table and pacing while his chest constricted with anger, despair, and a sense that he’d just lost his one chance to deal with the past once and for all.
Roach got to his feet, knocking the chair to the floor. “The fuck?” he choked out and grabbed the page. “What is this?” He stared between Zane and Karla while color returned to his pale face.
The scammer rose with her hands raised. “It’s not what you think. These just help me connect—”
Roach reached to the back of his jacket and pulled out a gun. “Like fuck! This a joke to you, bitch!?”
She cried out as if he’d struck her and tried to back out into the kitchen when Zane blocked her way, high on adrenaline.
“There’s walls of that stuff in her office. She’s a fucking liar and won’t help us!”
Karla’s back hit the cabinet filled with porcelain figurines and a few fell over. She pulled her oversized sweater tightly around her as if it could shield her from violence. “It’s… I don’t always— “
“We don’t. Fucking. Care,” Zane roared and grabbed the other display cabinet. It was lighter than he’d expected, or maybe anger fueled his strength, but he shoved it to the floor, and its glass parts crumbled into tiny pieces.
Roach’s nostrils flared, and he wouldn’t stop pointing the gun at her. “You lure in vulnerable people, promising them contact with their loved ones only to take their money and fuck them over? You’re sick in the head, lady! We came here with a real paranormal problem!”
Karla’s face twisted as she sobbed, slowly sinking lower by the wall. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I will pay you, but please keep this secret. This is my livelihood!”
Roach looked around the room. “Take what looks valuable,” he said as if, all of a sudden, he was the president of their two-man motorcycle club. He stood taller, straighter, and the way he managed to stifle the burning fury and hide it just below the surface had Zane biting his lips.
He wanted to squeeze Roach’s ass right in front of Karla.
But the antique candle holder seemed interesting—and expensive too—so he shook off the spark of lust. Next came intricate boxes, a fantasy sword hung in the hallway, and earrings carelessly left on a side table.
“No! Not Ginger!” Karla cried, making Zane look back to witness Roach grabbing a stuffed cat off a shelf in the kitchen.
“Maybe you should have thought of Ginger when you decided to cheat people out of money!” Roach yelled, ridiculous with the dusty piece of taxidermy under his arm.
Karla shook her head abruptly, wiping tears off with both her palms. “I never meant to lie to anyone. I really believe there’s more out there, and that if only we can connect—”
Roach expressed his lack of patience with a growl and pulled out a pocket knife, placing the gun on the table. “You know what’s real? This is!” He cut into his palm and showed it to her. “Explain this to me!”
Zane yelped and grabbed his wrist as the skin on his hand cracked open. “Jesus fuck! What the hell, Roach?”
But Roach ignored him. “Why’s he bleeding when I’m the one cut? Who did this to us?”
Karla stared at them, but then screamed like a banshee.
Chapter 13 – Roach
Roach couldn’t believe how naive he’d been. For a moment there, he’d really thought Karla von Ecker communicated with the spirit of his father. He was dumb as a sack of rocks. Dad, Ajax, Leo, Gimp, Jersey, Sniffer, Norm, and Dog were only a memory, and this woman couldn’t bring them back.
The frenzy of righting a wrong quickly wore off, and Roach had left the stuffed cat in her driveway, freaked out that he’d taken it in the first place. He should have known the medium was lying the moment she’d claimed Dad was apologizing. If there was one thing Hulk had never done, it was admitting he’d been wrong.