Wilmington, NC 03 - Murder On The Ghost Walk

radio for news of the storm. Hurricane Nancy was headed for the Outer Banks, a hyper newscaster reported. Wilmington would be spared a direct hit, but a deluge of rain would be dumped on the city and massive flooding was expected. Storm surge, almost as dangerous as a hurricane. Then the mayor came on, asking for calm, reminding us Wilmingtonians never evacuate for we are seasoned survivors of storms.
    At Seventeenth Street I made a right, then turned left into Orange Street, sped to Campbell House and skidded to a stop so fast I ran up on the curb.
    I battled stiff winds to get my car door open, then dashed through the heavy rain up the sidewalk. The house lay in darkness, as still as death. I paused a minute under the magnolia trees. Their leaves were so dense they sheltered me from the downpour, but easterly winds blew rain sideways into my face and soaked my hair.
    I shook with fright. I was about to confront a killer but couldn't avoid it. Melanie was in danger. She'd do the same for me. I had to be strong. I crept onto the portico. The front door was open a crack. Cautiously, I pushed it open.
    "Melanie?" I called softly.
    When she didn't answer, I shouted, "Melanie, where are you?"
    "Back here," a muffled voice called from the rear of the house.
    I made my way down the hall, feeling along the cold wall. In my haste I'd forgotten to bring a flashlight.
    Parting the vinyl sheets, I groped my way into the kitchen area. In the darkness, rubble under my sneakers felt like boulders and I struggled not to stumble.
    "Melanie?" I called in a loud whisper.

34

    "Ashley!" Her voice drifted out of the darkness. "Did you bring the files?"
    "Yes, I've got them."
    Instantly a match was struck, a candle glowed. In its flickering light, I saw my sister's face and darted toward her. She was tied to a straight back chair. Standing over her with a gun pointed at her head was Teddy Lambston.
    "Oh, Teddy, how could you? I thought we were friends."
    He was dressed in the suit he'd worn to the funeral. His hair was wet and slicked back in a ponytail . At his feet lay a large duffel bag. In the candlelight, his eyes were black hollows. "I don't have any friends. Do you think I'm stupid? I know the names you all called me in school."
    I took a step forward. "Not me, Teddy. I never called you names. We were friends."
    "Don't come any closer." I never heard him speak so assertively before. I stopped and he said, " OK , very slowly, put the files on the floor."
    I reached inside my raincoat.
    "Stop!" Teddy yelled. The gun swung from Melanie to me.
    I held my hands out. "I'm not armed, Teddy. The folders are inside my raincoat."
    He waved the gun at me. "Use both hands and open your raincoat wide so I can see inside."
    I pulled back my slicker.
    "Remove the files and set them on the floor."
    I stooped and laid three folders on the floor. As I straightened up I peered into Melanie's face to see how she was holding up. She looked furious. "Are you all right?" I asked.
    She wiggled in the chair, trying to pull loose. "He's had me tied up all day. This sociopath lured me over to his house with a phony story about having me do an appraisal." Her chin shot up and she fixed Teddy with an angry glare. "Then after dark he marched me over here at gun point."
    Teddy kicked Melanie's chair and she squealed. "Shut up!" he yelled.
    I took another step closer to her, hoping he wouldn't notice. How was I going to untie her? "Teddy, let us go. You've got what you want." I played dumb. "There's nothing in th ose files to incriminate you so why are you doing this?"
    "You're lying, Ashley."
    A flash of memory danced before my eyes. Maybe it was seeing Teddy in candlelight that brought back the memory. On the night of the Campbells' last Christmas party, when I'd gone into Shelby's bedroom to fetch Mama's coat, Shelby had been standing inside one of the tall windows with one other person. There had been candles burning on a dresser. The couple had spr u ng apart and looke d so guilty when I saw them, I shared their e mbarrassment, and that's why I blocked the memory. Until now.
    "You were in love with Shelby! But you were only eighteen, Teddy! She was close to thirty."
    "Don't you dare say a word against her," he warned, his words cold and clipped. I'd never seen Teddy like this.
    "Shelby was perfect, in every way. She was the only person besides my mother who loved me. She and Reggie. They were the only friends I had. They were good to me. We had fun