by JG Faherty
Eddie saw a button turn green on the desk phone and he pressed it down.
“Warden Ramos?” As he said it, he realized he didn’t know if Jones and Ramos knew each other. Had they ever spoken? Were they friendly or just polite?
“Afternoon, Chief. What can I do for you?”
“Well, we’ve got a bit of a problem down here and I’m hoping you can help.” Eddie prayed he wasn’t laying on too much of the Southern charm; he had no idea how Jones usually handled official business.
“I’ll try.”
“You’ve got a prisoner up there, part of a local biker gang. Name is Ned Bowman. It seems his brother’s gone kind of wild, starting a lot of trouble in town. Normally, I’d just lock him up but he’s trying to play the crazy card, if you know what I mean, and now he’s in the hospital getting evaluated by the shrinks. I think I can get him to admit he’s faking it, but I’ll need some incentive.”
“And you think his brother can provide it.” The warden’s voice carried more than a hint of skepticism.
“I do. See, it’s no secret Ned is still running the show when it comes to the Hell Riders. He does it through Hank and through that girlfriend of his that visits him every week. Hank’s scared to death of his brother. If I can get the two of them into a room, just for a few minutes….”
“The point of a prison is to keep people like Ned Bowman locked inside,” Ramos said. “Why don’t you bring Hank up here?”
“I wish I could. Doctors won’t give me permission to move him. I know it’s a lot to ask, but Hank and his boys have killed two people and destroyed a lot of property, and I’ve got the mayor breathing down my neck.”
“Hmmm.” A strange sound came through the phone, and Eddie realized it was the warden chewing something. Dinner? Gum? The Chief’s stomach rumbled, and Eddie almost laughed. After this call, he was going to have himself another nice meal, this time on the Chief’s dime.
“All right.”
For a moment, Eddie didn’t catch on to the warden’s agreement.
“Jones? You there?”
“What? Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. That’s great. I’ll send an officer for him tomorrow morning. Thank you, warden.”
“Make sure he has all the right paperwork. And don’t make me regret this.” The connection went dead before Eddie could respond.
Eddie nearly shouted with joy. Ned Bowman, you’re a dead man and you don’t even know it!
Jones’s stomach growled again, and Eddie stood up. Time for supper. As he left the office, he stopped at Sharon’s desk.
“Do me a favor. I’m having Ned Bowman brought back to town to see if he can scare the insanity plea out of Hank. Dig out the paperwork and give it to Moselby. I want him on the way to Miami at dawn.”
“Okay. But Johnny Ray, are you sure this is a good idea?”
Eddie’s good mood evaporated like morning fog. “Yes, I’m damn sure! Just do it.” He stormed out of the station before the old hag could ask any more questions.
Jesus, Jones needs to learn how to run a tighter ship.
Out on the sidewalk, he paused to consider his options. At Rosie’s, the dinner crowd would already be stuffing their fat asses into the booths, eager for their meatloaf and chicken fried steak. It would take forever to get his food. On the other hand, Iron Pete’s Pub was only a block away in the other direction.
A beer and a burger. Now that would really hit the spot.
Even better would be letting Johnny Ray wake up in the morning with a nasty hangover and no idea how he got it.
* * *
Kellie Jones knew something was wrong the minute she walked into the house and found her father asleep on the couch with several empty beer bottles scattered around him. She’d called earlier from Carson’s house and left a message saying she’d be eating dinner there and then watching a movie, but her father hadn’t called back, which was unusual. And when she’d called at eight for a ride home, there’d been no answer either.
Growing up as the child of a police officer, she knew sometimes his work could keep him at the station for long hours. Accidents, arrests, paperwork. But never to the point where her father didn’t call her back at some point, or at least text her, unless there was a real emergency. Except in that case, she’d have heard all sorts of sirens. Which meant something else was going on. And with all the weirdness happening in town, that made her more than a little nervous.
Another part of being a cop’s child was the worry that something would happen to her father. Lately, with all the violence happening in town, that worry had grown a few sizes. So, rather than walk home, she’d borrowed Carson’s bike for the trip across town.
Finding him home and safe eased her mind; however, the fact that he’d obviously been boozing raised new worries. He’d never been much of a drinker, just a few beers at barbeques or parties. And certainly never while in uniform, or to the point where he smelled like one of the drunks he regularly busted on the weekends.
What the heck had happened?
“Dad, wake up.” She poked at him with her finger. He groaned, then opened eyes that were red and watery.
“Huh? Kellie? Whass the matter? Where…?” He sat up, then groaned again as he looked around the room. “How’d I get here?”
“Dad, you’re wasted. What’s going on?”
“What? Wasted…?” A bleary look of understanding came over him. “How’d I…? I was in my office.… What time is it?”
“Nine o’clock. You weren’t answering my calls. I got worried.”
“Nine?” He shook his head. “No. It was four-thirty. I went for coffee. Brought it back. That’s the last thing I remember.”
Kellie’s body went cold at her father’s words. Memory loss. Abnormal behavior. It could only mean one thing.
Eddie Ryder. Inside my father. He made him get drunk. What else did he do?
“You better go to bed, Dad. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
“Huh? Yeah.” Johnny Ray stood up, swayed so far to the left that Kellie thought he’d tumble over, and then righted himself. Still leaning slightly to one side, he made his way through the living room and down the hall to his bedroom like he was navigating a maze. A moment later the sound of snoring filled the house.
Kellie hurriedly cleaned up the mess and then texted Carson.
>We’ve got a real problem.
* * *
Kellie woke up to the sound of her father calling her name. Her radio was playing a hip-hop dance tune, and she wondered how long the alarm had been going off.
“I’m awake,” she shouted, as much for her own benefit as her father’s.
“Glad to hear it.”
She nearly jumped out of bed at his voice, which came from her doorway. Turning, she saw her father, smiling but looking as tired as she felt, standing there.
“Your alarm’s been blasting for ten minutes. I thought maybe you’d gone deaf.”
“Sorry.” She hit the off button. “I was up late last night, doing homework.”
“Uh-huh.” His eyebrows went up, a clear sign he didn’t believe her. “If you want a ride to school, better get a move on. I’ve got first shift today.”
“Okay.”
She got out of bed, her stomach already in knots. What disaster would her father find when he went to work? What kind of mischief had Eddie been up to, besides a drinking binge?
“That may have been all it was,” Carson had said the previous night, while they’d been texting each other. They’d spent hours going over the different ideas they had, continuing their conversation from earlier, at his house. And just like then, they’d ended up getting nowhere. Computer research was useless, not because of a lack of information but the opposite: there were so many websites about ghosts, possession, demons, and poltergeists that they had no idea what to believe and what was pure junk. Th
e one thing that seemed pretty much consistent was that getting rid of a ghost or demon wasn’t easy.
Kellie hadn’t been satisfied with Carson’s ideas on why Eddie would possess her father. If all he wanted to do was drink, why pick him? Why not someone already in a bar?
“Maybe he wanted to embarrass your dad. Make him get drunk in front of everyone. Even though he knew your dad helped him out, he still never really trusted him. Or any other cops. He always blamed the police anytime he got in trouble, said they were out to get him.”
It made sense, but it didn’t. Eddie had a real grudge against the Hell Riders, and almost everything he’d done up until that point, from what they could tell, had to do with them in some way.
So how does my dad figure into that?
The question had kept her up most of the night, and it continued to hound her as she got ready for school.
She had a feeling that when they found out the answer, they weren’t going to like it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Eddie could barely control himself as he waited for the patrol car to cross over into the town limits. Nervous energy crackled around him and had the air humming like he’d parked beneath a giant transformer. He’d been up at first light to make sure Jones hadn’t discovered the transport orders during the night and cancelled them. Everything seemed fine, though, with Moselby departing Hell Creek for Miami right on schedule. Two hours there, two hours back. Eddie could have waited at the police station for Moselby to return, but he wanted to take control of Ned Bowman the moment the bastard entered the town limits.
The four hours had seemed like a lifetime.
Finally, at just after ten-thirty a.m., Moselby’s car came into view.
This is it, Neddy. You’re going out with a bang.
A motherfucking big bang!
Eddie gunned Diablo and swooped down parallel to the police cruiser. Just for fun, he gunned the throttle a few times, creating blasts of thunder that shook the car and startled flocks of birds flying from their nesting places. A group of herons sailed across the road in front of Moselby. One bounced off the front end of the cruiser in an explosion of feathers.
“Jesus!” Moselby jerked the wheel back and forth, trying to keep control of the car as more feathered missiles took flight from the swampy land on both sides of the road.
“What the fuck?” Ned shouted from the back, doing his best to hang on with his hands cuffed behind him.
The car straightened out and Eddie decided to get the game going. He aimed Diablo right for Ned’s body and throttled up. The ghostly bike sped forward and passed effortlessly through metal and flesh. As soon as he had control, Eddie released a tiny burst of power, just enough to cause a squeal of feedback from the car’s police radio. The car swerved again and Eddie threw himself into the door, smacking Ned’s skull against the window.
Moselby righted the car and looked back. “Bowman? You all right?”
Damn. He’s too smart to fall for any tricks. Eddie had hoped Moselby would pull over and open the door to check on him. How great would it have been to have Ned drive the police car into town, with Moselby handcuffed in the back? Instead, he’d have to wait a little longer to have his fun.
“I’m fine,” Eddie said. “No thanks to you. Where’d you learn to drive, clown college?”
“Shut your mouth.” Moselby clicked the radio a couple of times. When it worked normally, he set the mic back in its holder. Eddie figured they had a ten-minute drive into town. Moselby was already on edge. Why not see if he could get under the officer’s skin?
“Hey, Ted. How ’bout if we stop for a burger? My treat.”
When there was no response from the officer, Eddie kept talking.
“You know I’m gonna cause some trouble while I’m here. Johnny Ray thinks I’m going to be his dog and get my brother to talk? Man, he’s got another thing coming. I figure maybe I’ll escape and raise some hell, how’s that sound? I got some scores to settle, starting with a certain bitch with a big mouth. You still got her locked up? Maybe you can put me in the cell with her, let me have a conjugal bang before I kill her.”
Moselby stayed quiet, and Eddie felt himself getting irritated. Time to bring out the big guns.
“Or how about I pay a visit to your wife? What’s her name? I’ll bet she could use a real man. Or does she get off on the big black dick of yours? Is that it? Wifey likes the dark meat?”
Eddie waited, thinking there was no way Moselby would let that one go. Hell, if someone said that about his woman, he’d—
“You must have me confused with some stupid hick who bought a Crackerjack badge. Hate to break it to you, but in LA even the dumbest meth head has more brains than you. Now sit back and enjoy the ride. After today you won’t be seeing the outside for a long time.”
“You wanna bet? This is a one-way ride for me, Ted. You and Chief Dumb Ass just don’t know it yet.”
Eddie leaned back. When he saw Moselby eyeing him in the rearview mirror, he gave him the biggest grin he could make, stretching his lips until they hurt.
As they entered the town proper, Moselby flicked on the radio. “Car twenty here. Approaching home base in five. Backup requested. Our guest is a little feisty.”
Feisty? Just fucking wait, asshole. I’ll show you feisty. I’ll feisty your motherfucking head clean off your shoulders.
* * *
“What was that all about?” Johnny Ray Jones asked as he approached Sharon with some papers to be filed.
“That was Ted. He’s heading into town with Ned Bowman and wants someone to meet him. Says Bowman’s feisty today.”
Johnny Ray’s hands twitched and he dropped the papers. “Ned Bowman? What the hell’s he bringing Bowman here for?”
The look Sharon gave him made him want to check and see if he’d grown an extra head. “Um, ’cause you arranged it with Warden Ramos? Why else?”
“What? I didn’t do anything of the sort. Why would I want that piece of crap here instead of locked up?”
Sharon’s gaze grew concerned and Johnny Ray started thinking back to the previous night and the missing hours of his life, which apparently included getting shit-faced.
What else did I do?
“How would I know? You spoke to the warden about it and then told me to have Ted fill out the paperwork and handle the pickup. Then you left. Are you feeling okay?”
No, I’m not, you stupid bitch, I’m fucking losing my mind. Don’t ask me if I’m okay! He was not even close to okay. He was the opposite of okay, in fact. He felt like screaming. Like kicking over the desk.
Wait. Maybe I’m not crazy. Maybe it’s a tumor. Or a stroke. Something’s wrong. Gotta play it off for now, act like everything’s fine.
“Um, yeah, Sharon. I’m sorry.” He gave her a grin. “My mind’s a little fuzzy today. I didn’t get much sleep.”
She smiled and gave him a wink. “I heard you had a liquid dinner last night. I guess even the Chief needs to blow off some steam now and then.”
What was she talking about? Had he gotten so shit-faced he blacked out and lost nearly an entire day? How much had he drunk?
“Yeah.” His grin felt weaker and he turned away before she noticed. News traveled way too fast in a small town. He didn’t need a reputation as a boozer.
“Have them put Bowman in a cell. I’ll be out in a few minutes to talk to him.”
“You really think he can get Hank to incriminate himself?”
Johnny Ray paused at his office door. “That’s the plan.” Once he was seated at his desk with the door shut, he tried to look into the black hole in his memory. Use one Bowman against another? It was a crazy idea, and not crazy smart. If anything, Ned would just tell his younger brother to keep his mouth shut.
What the hell had he been thinking?
And he’d gotten Warden Ramos, a well-known hard-a
ss, to agree to his scheme? That meant he had to see it through or Ramos would be all over him.
Shit. Shit fucking goddamn.
Not even eleven yet, and it was already looking like a very bad day.
* * *
Eddie watched Johnny Ray come down the hall and he wanted to laugh until the walls fell down around him. The Chief looked awful.
Cheap beer and tequila will do that to you.
“Howdy, Chief,” Eddie said, shaping Ned’s lips into a shit-eating grin. “I always wanted to say that. Makes me feel like a cowboy. How you feelin’ today, Johnny-boy? Looks to me like you got yourself a bad case of hangover flu.”
Johnny Ray glared at him, and Eddie imagined what Johnny Ray was seeing. Ned Bowman had gone to jail a tall, long-haired piece of shit with a pot belly, a bad attitude, and a moustache he liked to call his pussy-tickler.
He’d returned to Hell Creek with a bald head, clean-shaven face, and a body layered in muscle. He’d definitely put his time in prison to good use. Eddie could feel the strength in his borrowed body. It was a body made for violence, something Ned always had a yen for.
Let’s see what you’re made of, Neddy.
Without warning, he slammed himself against the cell bars, and was rewarded by Moselby and Jones both jumping back a couple of steps.
“Oh yeah, boys, that’s the ticket. Got you pissin’ in your pants already, don’t I?”
To his credit, Johnny Ray recovered quickly. “Speaking of pissing, your brother’s been having some trouble with that. Can’t seem to keep it in his pants. Now he’s under observation at the hospital. The docs are saying he might be a little whoo-hoo.” Jones twirled his finger in circles by his temple.
“Why the fuck should I care?”
“We’re hoping you might talk to him. Your boys have been out of control. I’m guessing you know about Butch and Jethro.”
“And Harley. Don’t forget about him. This where you shot him?”
Johnny Ray scowled and Moselby shook his head, a look of disgust plastered on his face.