Ghoul Interrupted

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Ghoul Interrupted Page 14

by Victoria Laurie

Gilley continued to pout. “I miss my van!” he moaned, still hugging the fire extinguisher from Teeko’s lodge, which he’d “borrowed.”

  I undid my seat belt and got out of the car. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

  We got our two rooms and I let Gilley have Doc to help calm both their nerves. He took my bird into his room, got him settled, then came back into ours because, according to Gil, it was still early. (The clock read ten p.m.) He then promptly used our phone to order up some room service. I didn’t utter a single protest because we did still need to think through a plan, and the food would give us at least ten whole minutes of peace while Gil stuffed his piehole.

  Once his burger, fries, and milk shake arrived, the three of us got down to talking through our options. First, we looked at our arsenal, which was woefully lacking. We had only one working electromagnetic meter—we’d lost all the other ones in Europe—and we had only my two magnetic spikes, the others having been taken by our production staff with them when they went back to L.A.

  “We’re pathetically low on good ghostbusting equipment,” Gilley grumbled in between fries, while he also connected a wireless keyboard to his new iPad.

  “Can we put you in charge of making more, Gil?” Heath asked.

  Gil shrugged noncommittally. “I guess,” he said. “But who’s going to pay for it?”

  Heath blanched, I knew he was thinking of all the expenses he’d incurred coming here, and now with his house up in flames, he was out some serious cash until the insurance check came in.

  My finances weren’t much better. I’d used much of my paycheck to pay a bunch of bills and I knew I had to be conservative until we got back to a regular shooting schedule.

  Still, Heath said, “I’ll pay. Gil, can you get us any equipment you think we absolutely must have on this bust? But try to keep it reasonable.”

  Gilley set down his milk shake and began typing. “Here’s a night-vision camera for a grand,” he said. “And I think I can get some electrostatic meters for about four hundred a piece. Then there’s the monitoring equipment,” he added, typing even more furiously.

  “We don’t need a night-vision camera,” I said quickly. Left to his own devices, Gilley was likely to order an entire Best Buy. “And we’ll only need one electrostatic meter and some more spikes. The monitoring equipment we can also go without. Bare bones, Gil.”

  My best friend frowned but tapped away anyway. “Here’s a used electrostatic meter for three hundred,” he said, turning up his lip in distaste at having to buy used.

  “Sold,” I told him, offering him my credit card, which he waved away.

  “I know the numbers by heart,” he said, typing in the sequence with amazing speed.

  Heath reached out and squeezed my hand. “Thanks, babe,” he said, “but this is my problem, and I should pay for it.” Reaching into his own pocket, he pulled out his credit card and handed that to Gil.

  Gilley’s brow rose, but he took the card and typed in the digits, then hit ENTER with a flourish and said, “Let’s hope it works when it gets here.”

  Once Gil had ordered an entire box of powerful magnets and aluminum tubes to carry our spikes in, Heath said, “Now, let’s get down to brass tacks about this demon.”

  I leaned forward. “Other than the story your mom told us this morning, Heath, do you know anything else that might help us figure out what we’re dealing with?”

  He rubbed his chin before answering. “I heard the legend as a kid,” he said. “My grandfather told it to us, but we all thought it was a story invented to keep us little kids from wandering around at night and getting into trouble. After about the age of eight I outgrew any thought that the legend was true.”

  “Well, now we know it’s definitely true, and it’s specifically targeting you, just like your grandfather told me in my dream the night Ari called you about Milton.”

  “Why do you think the demon went back to Milton’s cabin to burn it down, though?” Gilley asked us, looking up from his list.

  “I have no idea,” I admitted. “Heath?”

  He shook his head. “No clue. It seems like overkill, though, doesn’t it? I mean, the damage was already done and I can’t think of anyone in the family who would want to go hang out at Milton’s cabin when they knew he’d died there.”

  “You mean besides we fools,” Gilley said.

  “Yes,” said Heath with a hint of a smile. “Besides us.”

  “But that seems too coincidental, doesn’t it?” I asked. “I mean, we go to Milton’s cabin and later that same day it burns down and then your house also burns down? It almost feels like this demon is trying to hide something and kill off anyone who might be getting too nosy by burning them to a crisp.”

  “But that would mean that it’s got something to hide,” said Heath. “What could a demon possibly want to keep secret?”

  “The identity of the person who helped wake it up?” I asked, throwing the idea out there.

  “That poor bastard’s probably dead,” Heath said. “I mean, something as big and powerful as this demon would likely be hungry, and I’ll bet its first meal was whoever had the bad luck to wake it up.”

  I drummed my fingers on the tabletop. I wasn’t so sure that was true, but we couldn’t overlook the obvious. Turning to Gilley, I said, “Can you hack into the Pueblo sheriff’s system and get us a list of missing or recently deceased people in the area?”

  “Child’s play,” Gilley assured us.

  “Look for anything unusual to go along with any of the recently deceased,” I added. “We’re looking for unusual markings on the body, similar to Milton’s, that were also deemed an animal attack like a mountain lion. But narrow the search to within a week or two of the attack on Heath’s uncle. I doubt this demon waited long to strike once it’d woken up.”

  Gilley typed some notes to himself. “You’ll have it by tomorrow.”

  I focused next on Heath. “We’ll need to get a look at the Pueblo histories. I overheard Rex shutting out your mom, but do you think there’s any way you might be able to sneak into the library and take a look at it?”

  “I’m not an active member of the Pueblo,” Heath reminded me. “Since my mom left, I’ve got no rights without an elder’s express permission. If Mom was shut out, then I’m not gonna have any luck either, and my hanging around the library would definitely get noticed.”

  “Okay. Then maybe you should ask Rex directly? I mean, in light of what happened to his son tonight, maybe he’ll be more open to our black hawk spirit demon theory.”

  Heath sighed and pulled out his cell. He checked the time before dialing. I knew it was late and hoped that Rex was still up with Ray at the hospital. “Hey, Uncle,” he said after a moment. “It’s Heath. I was calling to check on Ray and ask you—” And that’s as far as he got. Rex began yelling so loud both Gilley and I could hear him through the phone. I didn’t catch the entire tirade, but I heard enough to know that Rex was blaming Heath for Ray’s brush with death.

  I couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to point the finger at Heath, but he was loud enough and angry enough to feel justified doing so.

  For his part, Heath didn’t say a word. He just listened with his eyes on the tabletop. Abruptly the tirade ended, and Heath pulled the phone from his ear. Setting it on the table, he got up and said, “I need some air.”

  Gil and I watched him walk out of the room and neither of us thought it was a good idea to follow him.

  “Sheesh!” Gil said once the door closed behind Heath. “The Whitefeathers sure put the fun in dysfunction.”

  I smirked. For the record, I hadn’t spoken to my father or brother in well over three years, and Gilley’s dad abandoned him and his mother the moment Gilley began showing signs of preferring Barbie dolls to G.I. Joes. (Mrs. Gillespie claims that Gilley practically pranced out of the womb.)

  Gil yawned while we waited for Heath to come back in. “Now what?” he asked me when twenty minutes had passed and Heath sti
ll hadn’t come back to the room.

  “You can go to bed,” I told him, having trouble keeping my own eyes open. “We’ll tackle this in the morning.”

  Gil got up and gathered his iPad and the keyboard; then he came around behind me and gave me an impromptu hug. “I’m glad you’re my family, M. J.”

  And that’s the thing I really love about Gilley. Oh, sure, he’ll say the most inappropriate thing at the most inappropriate moment ninety-nine percent of the time, but that one time when it counts, Gil will nail it with just the right words.

  “I’m glad you’re my family too, Gil.”

  With that, he left me alone to ponder what to do next.

  Chapter 7

  Heath came back to the hotel room sometime later that night. I was fast asleep by then, but that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t still working. Sam came to me somewhere in the middle of my slumber. It was good to see him, but hard not to notice the troubled expression he wore. “Hello, M. J.,” he said, sitting down next to me on a bench in the middle of a park that reminded me so much of home I could actually smell the gardenia and peach tree blossoms.

  “Hi, Sam,” I replied. “You here about the demon?”

  Sam nodded. “I’m very worried,” he admitted. “Ray barely escaped his death today. The spirit of the black hawk has powers beyond even what we elders had guessed.”

  “Can you tell me anything that will help us fight it?” I asked.

  Sam shrugged. “What have you done to fight against it so far?”

  “Not a lot.”

  “I’d do a little more,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

  “I’m serious, Sam. We need help here.”

  “There’s a book,” he replied, all pretense of humor gone now. “It’s in the Pueblo library, and it details the legend of the black hawk. You should look there for some clues.”

  “That’s what we were thinking, but we’re having trouble getting access to the library.”

  “Rex?”

  “Yep. He and Vernon have pretty much told us we’re full of it.”

  Sam sighed. “You know, I love all my sons, but those two were born with a stick up their butts.”

  I barely managed to hold in a laugh. “Any ideas how to get around him?”

  “The funerals will be tomorrow. They’ll have Beverly’s body cremated in the morning, and they’ll hold the ceremonies tomorrow night.”

  “Okay,” I said, not really knowing where this was going.

  Sam seemed to sense my confusion, because he got to the point. “The whole tribe will go, of course. And not even Rex and Vernon would dare keep Serena and Heath from the ceremonies. No matter how the tribe feels about what Serena did twenty-five years ago, to keep her from Milton’s funeral would make my sons look bad. So, when the tribe moves to the burial grounds, that’ll be your opportunity to sneak into the library. You may have to break in, but this is more important than petty larceny. Find the histories, read the legend, and get out before anyone notices.”

  “Can’t you just tell me what the legend says?” I asked. That seemed like a lot of work and a lot of risk to take.

  Sam held the fingertips of both his hands up to his temples. “A lot of memory gets left behind when you come here,” he said to me. “I can’t remember the legend specifically, but I do think it might be important to go have a look at it, so that you’ll know exactly what you’re up against.”

  “We’ve already had that demo,” I told him soberly. “And it was no carnival ride, let me tell you.”

  Sam leaned back and squinted up at the cloudless blue sky. “Well, maybe there’ll be something within the legend that tells you how to defeat the demon, or at least tells you how it was contained the first time around.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I get it. Go to the library and look up D for demon. Anything else?”

  Sam stood and held his hand out to me. I took it and he waited until I was on my feet to say, “My ancestors have always been a powerful group, M. J. When the time is right, call on us and we’ll do whatever we can to help you vanquish this evil.”

  “Good to know, my friend,” I said. I then looked at the far edge of the park. A figure was standing there, waving to us. “Anyone I know?” I asked, pointing over Sam’s shoulder.

  He turned. “One of the ancestors,” he said. “And I have to get back to Beverly.”

  “She made it across to your side?”

  Sam nodded. “Yes, but she’s quite traumatized. You’ve figured out that the demon killed her too, right?”

  “That’s been my theory ever since I saw the talon marks on the side of her car.”

  “Yes. It appeared in the road in front of her and she panicked, losing control of the car and plowing right into that tree. She was here an instant later, but she’s very upset, not making much sense, and she still needs our help to adjust to her new surroundings.”

  I’d heard that sometimes people who died very suddenly and found themselves on the other side went through a period of intense anxiety before they made peace with the fact that they could no longer interact with their earthbound loved ones. I wondered if that was a rare thing or quite common.

  “It’s quite common,” Sam said.

  I smiled. “As is mind reading, huh?”

  “It’s the preferred method of communication here, M. J. Forming actual words with our mouths is an ability we all lose over time around here.”

  The figure at the edge of the park waved to Sam again. “I think you better go,” I said.

  He nodded but seemed reluctant to leave me. “Milton hasn’t come over yet,” he said. “If you find him, please send him home.”

  I winced. “Of course, Sam,” I promised. “Just as soon as we figure out what’s going on and how to fight this thing, we’ll work on finding Milton and helping him over. I promise you.”

  Sam took the sides of my head in both his hands and regarded me. “Tell Heath that none of this is his fault and he will always be a member of my tribe, no matter what his uncles say, all right?”

  “Uh . . . okay.”

  “You be careful, M. J. This demon isn’t after just my bloodline. It’s after all the Whitefeathers, actual and ceremonial, which is why I think Beverly ended up here. I’m still trying to get her to tell me what she saw and exactly what happened to her, but she’s too traumatized. I can hardly get a rational word out of her. If she tells me anything that I think you’ll find useful, I’ll come visit you again. But I may be away from you while I deal with this from my side, all right?”

  “Sounds like a plan, Sam,” I said with a smile.

  He smiled too, kissed me on the cheek, and vanished into thin air.

  I woke up a bit later only to find Heath’s muscular frame wrapped around me. I ran my fingers over his skin, tracing a lazy trail down from his shoulder over his bicep to his forearm. He was naturally lean and very fit, so his muscles stood out a little more than those of most men I’d dated. But he wasn’t a muscle head; no, he was defined and beautifully sculpted.

  Under my touch his skin was smooth, soft, and warm. He tended to run hot under the covers, both literally and figuratively, and right about then I wanted him in the more figurative sense. Literally.

  “Mmmm,” he hummed when my fingers found their way under the sheets. “What’cha doin’?”

  “Playing,” I said, turning around to face him.

  “Playing?” he repeated drowsily, but a smile tugged at his lips.

  “Yep. Your body’s like an amusement park for my fingers.”

  Heath chuckled and the sound was low and throaty. “Well,” he said, moving his own hand to rest on the top of my head. “You’re in luck, pretty lady, because you have to be exactly this height to ride my merry-go-round.”

  “Here’s my ticket,” I said, kissing him.

  “Oh, babe,” he replied, pulling back to eye me with smoldering intention, “for you, this ride’s free.”

  We didn’t do a lot of talking after that.
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  Well, that is until Gilley began pounding on our door loud enough to wake the dead. Heath groaned and got up to answer it, holding a pillow over his privates to open the door and look out. “What’s up?” he asked tersely.

  I’d pulled the covers to my chest and was peering at Gil from the bed. “I just wanted to . . . ,” Gil began, but then he took in the state of our nakedness and his voice trailed off. “Uh . . . ,” he said, a hint of red coloring his cheeks as he looked from Heath’s pillow to me and back to Heath’s pillow. “Jeez, you guys! Get a room!”

  I stared levelly at him. “We did!”

  “Oh!” Gilley said. Then he began to giggle nervously and he couldn’t stop himself. “I guess you did!” He doubled over with laughter and began whooping and hooting and making an ass of himself.

  Heath turned back to me as if to ask, “What the hell?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Heath let go of the door and it shut in Gilley’s face. He dropped the pillow then and took two leaps back to the bed, where he tackled me and pinned me to the mattress. “Now,” he said. “Where were we?”

  “The amusement park.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “And I think we were just about to set off on the love canal. . . .”

  BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM! came the pounding on the door again.

  Heath and I sighed in unison. “We really need to find him a boyfriend,” Heath growled.

  “Hey!” Gilley’s muffled voice called through the door. “Guys, come on! I’m hungry, and I have news to report!”

  Heath rolled off me and I got right up, grabbing my sweatshirt and jeans to quickly shrug into them and then yank open the door. “If mood killings were a crime, you’d get serious jail time!” I snapped.

  “Oh, please,” he said, completely unfazed. “I was working my fingers to the bone while you two had all night to bone each other.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  He stood there meeting my gaze with a mocking grin. “So can we get some breakfast?”

  I let go of the door, but Gil was faster and he blocked it with his foot. “Play nice,” he said, waltzing past me into the room.

 

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