The Death Dealer
The Poe Killings: A string of homicides is mirroring the author's macabre stories. And Genevieve O'Brien's mother is next. Genevieve knows all about nightmares. She herself survived two months as a psychopath's prisoner. And now this new menace stalks the city.Spooked by the bizarre slayings, she turns to P.I. Joe Connolly, her past rescuer, friend and… hopefully something more, if he would just quit avoiding her. At first Joe isn't even sure there is a case. But the body count rises, and it's clear that a twisted killer is on the loose.Even more unsettling is the guidance he starts receiving from beyond the grave. People he knows to be dead are appearing, offering him clues and leads, and warning of some terrible danger ahead. But can even the spirits stay the hand of a madman bent on murder?
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Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author HEATHER GRAHAM
“A sinister tale sure to appeal to fans across multiple genre lines.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Death Dealer
“Mystery, sex, paranormal events. What’s not to love?”
—Kirkus Reviews on The Death Dealer
“The intense, unexpected conclusion will leave readers well satisfied.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Dead Room
“An incredible storyteller.”
—Los Angeles Daily News
“A seamless plot and diverse characters…a tasty serial killer subplot.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews on The Dead Room
“Graham peoples her novel with genuine, endearing characters.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Séance
“Graham’s rich, balanced thriller sizzles with equal parts suspense, romance and the paranormal—all of it nail-biting.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Vision
“Another top-notch thriller from romance icon Graham.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Island
“There are good reasons for Graham’s steady standing as a best-selling author.”
—Booklist on Ghost Walk
“Graham builds jagged suspense that will keep readers guessing up to the final pages.”
—Publishers Weekly on Hurricane Bay
HEATHER GRAHAM
THE DEATH DEALER
To the New World School of the Arts, especially Ms. Graham, teacher of creative writing and English, who knows enthusiasm is the biggest part of the game; and Mr. Jim Randolph, “The God of Theater,” who keeps himself and his kids real, who knows there’s a big bad world out there but keeps a thumb on caring.
And for Beth Fath, a parent with quiet dedication; and Debbie Benitez, who has helped keep me sane and informed on more than one occasion!
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore!”
—Edgar Allan Poe
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
INTERLUDE
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
It’s not easy being a ghost.
You would think that it would be the most natural thing in the world. There you go—you’re dead. Live with it.
But it’s far more difficult than you would ever imagine.
It begins with why?
Oh, we all know the theories. A death by violence. Something left undone. Someone to be protected, someone to be warned—someone to be avenged.
Vengeance? Once you’re a ghost? Great stuff.
But that wasn’t my situation. My killer perished split seconds before the light of life faded from my own eyes. It wasn’t that I hadn’t loved life—I had. There were those left behind whom I cherished deeply.
The great love of my life, Matt Connolly, had gone before me, however. And he was there to greet me when I arrived.
“Crossed over,” as they say. Except there’s the thing—you haven’t actually crossed over. You’re existing in a vague and shadowy world where, often, you see something truly horrible about to take place—and you don’t have the power to stop it.
I’d known something of what would occur. I had almost died before. I had felt the power of the light that beckons—an invitation to heaven? I don’t know the answer to that yet.
Because that time I lived. And this time I stayed.
As a ghost.
And I know that I’ve remained behind for a reason, though I haven’t a clue as to the specifics. But at least, unlike some, I’m pretty sure I do have a purpose.
I’ve come across many of my kind who are far more lost than I am, having had a strange relationship with them after my near-death experience and before I departed the life of flesh and blood. There’s Lawrence Ridgeway, Colonel Lawrence Ridgeway, a charming fellow, with his perfectly trimmed beard and mutton-chops.
Sadly, he can’t accept the fact that the Civil War has been won. He was a brave soldier who came to New York during the terrible draft riots of the eighteen-sixties. No matter how often I try to explain things to him, he’s forever keeping guard over his long-gone prisoners. Matt, too, has tried to point out to him that there are no prisoners present, but poor Colonel Ridgeway simply can’t accept that fact. I’m afraid he’s doomed to haunt one particular hallway here in Manhattan’s historic Hastings House forever, a sad and tragic figure who’ll never find closure.
Marnie Brubaker died in childbirth. She’s a sweet and charming creature, and she loves the children who pass through the house. Children tend to be more open than adults to visits from my kind. Marnie likes to play games with the little ones. When they’re falling asleep on a parent’s shoulder, she sings lullabies. Every once in a while, one of them gets scared by her presence and screams bloody murder, which puts her into a funk for weeks to come. All she wants is to offer is love and comfort, but some people, even kids, just don’t want solace from a ghost.
There are those, like Colonel Ridgeway, who will go on repeating their last action over and over again. Then there are those who learn to move around the physical worlds. Passing through walls. Appearing and disappearing at will. Moving objects. The truth of it is, we ghosts can learn to do all kinds of things, so long as we have the will, the patience and the stamina.
