The entire drive back to her apartment she thought about the people David Dexter has conned, sad and lonely people who wanted nothing more than to believe that their loved ones were still out there somewhere. That their spirits had not perished. She thought about her own parents. Would she have been an easy target for mister Dexter had circumstances been different?
She paused at her door to look for her keys. They were not in her bag.
"Dammit," she muttered.
She must have dropped them in the car.
Briskly, she walked back to elevator. There was a man in an orange overall standing on a step stool in the middle of the elevator. He had put his tool case between the doors, so they couldn't close.
"Hey," she called out to him. "What are you doing?"
"Oh …"
The man stopped to look at her.
"Maintenance. You need to use the elevator? She'll be up and running in half an hour."
Catherine let out an annoyed sigh, but she decided she didn't want to hang around her hallway for the next half hour, so she took the stairs.
The lights weren't working properly. She needed to mind her step. Just when she had reached the level directly below hers, she could hear a second pair of footsteps echo down the staircase. Instinctively she took up the pace. So did the person following her. By the time she had reached the next level he had caught up with her.
"Miss Chandler!"
Her heart jumped. It was David Dexter. He was standing on the stairs behind her, mainly covered in shadows.
"Why couldn't you leave it be?" he asked, and his voice almost sounded sad. "Then again, a rich girl like you … You probably can't imagine what it's like to have nothing."
She didn't respond, so he continued:
"I was just like that kid you met today, only poorer. I was eleven when my dad died. My mom had to work two straight jobs to keep us fed. She was never around to watch tv with me or tuck me in or cook me diner. I had to do everything on my own. Then she died too and there was just me."
For a moment she felt sorry for him, until his tone hardened:
"I've never been able to communicate with their spirits. It's like they blocked me out. I had to take care of myself."
"By robbing lonely people out of their life savings?"
"Hey …"
He shrugged.
"At least they got to talk to their loved ones once more."
He frowned.
"She says she approves," he said. "Your mother."
Catherine launched a mocking laugh, but David Dexter kept going:
"The one you gave her rose to … she approves of him."
Instantly Catherine froze up. There was no way David could know about that. No one besides Vincent and herself knew.
David took advantage of her confusion by shooting forward and pushing her as hard as he could.
She lost her balance. A loud shriek flew from her lungs and she fell. Her body bounced down the stairs and landed on the next level. Slowly David followed. Bent over her he said:
"You will lose something now, miss Chandler."
Quickly she rolled over and kicked him in the groin. Her shoulders and back were sore from the fall, but she could still run. David swiftly recovered from his attack and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her back.
"You are not taking me down!" he yelled in her face.
He wrapped his hands around her throat. She lashed out, but she could not get him to loosen his grip. Gasping for air she saw the staircase get darker. Everything seemed to move away from her. Even her own mind.
Suddenly her hand hit something on the wall behind her and a new energy raged through her.
She struggled, was able to turn her body far enough to grab the fire extinguisher and pull it off the wall. One sway and the grip loosened. She'd managed to hit David on the side of the head. He laid unconscious on the platform before her.
"Catherine …"
She felt his presence even before she heard his voice.
"I'm alright, Vincent …"
In a heartbeat he stood next to her, wrapping his arms around her trembling body.
"I'm alright."