His head shot up, glare meeting mine. “I did. I said killing went too far. I just wanted to bring the girls home and have some fun.”

My nails dug into my palms. “You mean you just wanted to rape them.”

“Right. I’m no killer. So finally she says, okay, we’ll take a girl and I can have some fun. But then, when we’re done, she says we can’t just let her go.” MacKenzie paused. “I had to admit, she did have a point there.”

Jaime laid a hand on my arm. Fat lot of good it would have done, since I couldn’t even feel her touch, but I got the point and swallowed a snarl.

Before I could ask a new question, MacKenzie faded, becoming translucent. Jaime whispered an incantation and he popped back into 3-D.

“They’re pulling him back, Eve,” Jaime murmured.

“One last question.” I walked to MacKenzie, towering over him. “Do you like it where you are, Robin? Is it a happy place?”

“W—what? Are you kidding? Do you know where I am? They—”

“Stake you out on a rock in the desert and let buzzards pick the flesh from your bones? ’Cause that’s what I’d do. In fact, I think I’ll suggest they start doing that, because you’re every bit as much a murdering piece of shit as your wife.”

MacKenzie inched back. “No, you’ve got it wrong. I didn’t—”

“Oh, and speaking of your wife, while I’m sure she’ll get her comeuppance someday, I told a little fib earlier. She’s not suffering. She’s not even dead. But, you know what, she is enjoying that million-dollar life-insurance policy she took out on you before the trial.”

“What?” He jumped up. “No way. No fucking way. I never signed—”

“One word for you, Robin: ‘forgery.’” I bent down to the vervain bowl. “Oh, and one other word, too.” I blew a puff of smoke on him and smiled. “‘Sucker.’”

Robin MacKenzie fell back into the ghost world, his screams still resounding through the cemetery long after he was gone.

“Slammed the door a little hard there, didn’t you?” Jaime said. “Let’s hope you don’t want to talk to him again.”

“I won’t.”

I watched Jaime leave, making sure she got back to her rental car okay. Sure, if someone had jumped her, there’s not a damned thing I could have done about it. But I still felt better watching.

When she was gone, applause erupted behind me. I spun to see Kristof, leaning back against a tombstone.

“Now, that was a performance,” he said. “Lying about his wife still being alive was good. But the life insurance bit? Truly inspired.”

“A bit clichéd, don’t you think?”