He’s already walking away from the inn, so I step away from the window just in case an ancient, watery streetlight might reflect in my field glasses.

I can’t afford to be careless.

Rick Bentz might be a lot of things, but a fool he is not.

I know that.

He’s just a dogged, single-minded bastard of the lowest order. He deserves this and I can’t wait to see him twist in the wind. Oh, yeah. How perfect will it be for him to know the sheer terror, the mind-numbing fear that overcomes you when you’re haunted? He will get to experience the confusion and horror of thinking he’s losing his sanity.

And there are ways to ratchet up his torment. Oh, yes.

It’s time to add a little pressure on the home front.

Olivia…she is the key, I think, the coup de grâce. There is no better way to get to Bentz than through his damned wife.

I see him slip through the opening in the fence and head down the street to the parking lot. His shoulders are still broad, but his once purposeful gait is now uneven.

A coldness settles in my heart.

Do you feel me, you sick son of a bitch?

Do you have any idea what you did to me, the pain you put me through?

No?

Well, you will, Bentz, you damned well will.

In fact, and I promise you this, the pain and suffering and guilt will be so intense, so excruciating that you’ll wish to heaven and hell that you were dead.

CHAPTER 14

Bentz found his car and made note of a few changes in the parking lot. One of the twin pickups had left and there was now an old Datsun with expired plates idling in front of the bookstore. A teenage girl was behind the wheel, gabbing on her cell phone. WASH ME was still in prime position in front of the tavern, but the silver Chevy with the stickers was no longer parked near the dirty van.

He wondered if one of the cars could belong to “Jennifer” or whoever she was. If so, she certainly was no ghost. As far as he knew the State of California only issued licenses to living people and, if folklore were to be believed, ghosts really didn’t need wheels.