Dadgummit

by Maggie Toussaint

  It felt good to leave that place behind, though I worried about the welfare of the people trapped inside. “Where are we going?”

  “Convenience store.”

  “Oh?”

  “This is the Sam Mayes’ official cure for surviving a terrible day.”

  “What is it? Some kind of Cherokee herbal infusion?”

  “Nope. Supersized candy bar and an energy drink. Works every time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  As promised, the combination of sugar and caffeine recharged my body in a hurry. Though the jolt would probably be short-lived, it should hold me for another few hours. That was all I needed, and once we had Charlotte back, I planned to conk out.

  A glance at the clock on the dash showed me it was nearly four o’clock. This time of year, dusk arrived about seven to eight, depending on the cloud cover. With today’s low, thick clouds, dusk would arrive early. I hoped Mayes planned accordingly. The Little People meet-up was one appointment I couldn’t afford to miss.

  We turned into a wooded area, passing under the carved sign bearing the park’s name. The road looped around Meese Park, and at each bend was a nice waterfall or creek-side vista. Finally, the strange tree of my earlier vision came into view. Beneath its barren, spreading arms, cop cars galore hunkered down with their lights awhirl. Two ambulances from fire companies were parked nearby.

  Deputies had cordoned off the scene, and only a dog and its handler walked beyond the tape. I saw the woman reach down and plant another marker after the dog circled and lay down on the ground. Another body. How many did that make—five, six? The potential graves seemed to march in a linear progression along the side of the mountain.

  Whatever this was, someone had conducted the burials in an orderly fashion. Too many people around for me to do a full-press dreamwalk, but my tattoos tingled. Though I was supposed to focus on the graves, my gaze kept returning to that odd tree. The need to touch it arose in my blood the same way I occasionally craved chocolate. Somehow, someway, I would dip under the crime scene tape and learn what the tree needed to tell me.

  The shrouded mountains in the distance gave no hint of what lay ahead. Instead, I had the strong sense of the fleetingness of life. The mountains endured, though they were aging as well. Weren’t we all?

  “Sitrep, Loggins,” Mayes said to the approaching African-American deputy.

  Deputy Loggins vibrated with puppy-fresh excitement. “This could be huge. The body count is up to five at this point, but the cadaver dog is still working the area.”

  “What can you tell me about the bodies?” Mayes said. “Any way to identify them?”

  “None of the bodies we’ve found appear to be fresh. So far, all we’ve found are skeletal remains.”

  “My buddy at GBI is bringing in a forensic team. We’ll work the DNA and dental X-ray evidence as well as run the basics of each individual through the NCIC Missing Persons database.”

  “Dr. Bergeron will be upset she missed this,” Loggins pointed out.

  I’d been following the ping-pong exchange of conversation, but from the lull in the timing, I could tell Mayes was thinking about his response. Loggins was right though. A few months back, Gail Bergeron delighted in the early settlers I’d accidentally exhumed on a tree installation. This cache of unidentified remains would make her year.

  “She’ll return this evening,” Mayes added, with a quick glance to the sky and the shadows stretching across the parking lot. “This site will take a while to process.”

  Loggins nodded at me. “What about her? You going to deploy Twilla Sue’s secret weapon on the remains?”

  “Tomorrow. I don’t want to get in the way of the recovery team.”

  Loggins scratched his head and surveyed the area. “Never thought I’d be saying this, but I’m glad you called in extra help. Once people hear about this, they’ll be up here gawking.”

  “Any artifacts found with the remains?”

  “Not yet, but if the graves date back into history, this could be anything. Conquistadores. Your people. Gold rush dreamers. White settlers. Even black folk.”

  Mayes eyed the straight line of markers the dog and his handler were creating. “Contact the historical society and churches to see if there’s any record of this area ever being used as a cemetery.”

  “Dang. You think that’s what we have here?”

  “We won’t know unless we ask the right questions.”

  “Will do.”

  “Loggins, you’ve got point on this site. The perimeter is your responsibility, even after the GBI gets here. Pruitt is to log everything and make sure we follow procedure.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A smile tugged at Mayes’ lips as he noted the parting officer’s courtesy, but he hung onto his stern visage and turned to me. “You got anything?”

  I shrugged. “Can’t dreamwalk so many victims right now, though I am mighty curious about that tree. I’ve been drawn to it ever since I dreamed of it at Jonas’ house.”

  He nodded knowingly. “The Tree of Secrets. It bears a huge weight for mankind.”

  “How’s that?” I understood his diction clearly enough, but I didn’t get the meaning.

  “Locals have been coming up here for years and telling their secrets to this tree. The Semage family couldn’t keep people off their property. The tree became an attractive nuisance, so they donated the land to the county. Since it became a county park, we’ve had no complaints or trespassing calls out to this area. People come and go as they like.”

  Sounded like the tree served as a confessional. “You sure this isn’t the Semages’ private family graveyard? The interments seem rather orderly. Not like the work of a disturbed mind.”

  “That’d be a heck of a note, wouldn’t it? But it isn’t likely. They have several plots of relatives over in the Methodist cemetery.”

  I slanted him a sideways glance. An odd bit of trivia for Mayes to know, but this was a small town. Taking into consideration my own knowledge about my hometown and Sinclair County, I could put his remarks in perspective.

  Mayes must have seen my unspoken question. “I went out with Sabine, the daughter of the family, long ago. Before I knew better.”

  My thoughts turned one-eighty. “You think the Semage family had something to do with these graves?”

  “Anything is possible. We’ll question them tomorrow.”

  I sighed. “Sounds like tomorrow will be busy too. I don’t like to whine and complain, but I came up here to spend time with my daughter before school starts next week. We’ve got more dead people than we know what to do with, and our killer is practically uncatchable. Unless the GBI has a hotline to crime central, we’re screwed.”

  “Priorities. We get our friends back from the Nunne’hi today. We find Jonas Canyon and contain him. We help White Feather and Haney in the afterlife. We work the back-burner case. Simple steps. That’s how we navigate.”

  Even though he’d broken the investigation down into easy tasks, it still seemed overwhelming. I wanted justice for Haney and White Feather, but at what cost to myself?

  “School starts Monday. We’re already on Thursday afternoon, and I have to leave time to drive home. You think we can wrap this up in two more days?”

  “The timeline is a challenge, but we’ll do what we must.”

  He could double-talk when he wanted. Gauging from the slant of the sun’s rays, we’d be leaving this place soon. If that tree had a message for me, I needed to hear it now.

  “Where are you going?” Mayes asked as I strode away.

  I ignored him. I had a tree to talk to.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Behind me I heard a collective gasp. The local cops knew the tree’s reputation. None of them had strayed under its branches. Now I stood beside the Tree of Secrets, marveling at its wide girth and stark, empty branches. I stroked my moldavite pendant. This simple gem had become a touchstone for me since Roland’s disappearance, because it helped settle my though
ts and ease my mind.

  Mayes hadn’t followed me over, so he must not be too worried about the fullness of my dreamwalker tank. He was talking to another deputy. I tuned him out and dialed in to the faint whispers I heard.

  I touched the tree, and conversations flowed around me. Of betrayals. Of trysts. Of unbearable sorrow. I sifted through it all, growing despondent. I’d been so sure the tree had something for me. Something about the case. I channeled the sound of Haney’s voice and kept drifting in the current of whispers until at last I caught the right eddy.

  Suddenly, I flashed into a dream sequence with Jonas and Haney standing on this very spot.

  “You will do as I say,” Jonas said, his beady eyes boring into Haney’s.

  “Nuh-uh,” Haney said, his gaze steady on the distant mountains. “You hurt people. I don’t like that.”

  “Only the people who want to transition. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

  “Not me. I don’t want to transition, Jonesy. I like it here. I’ve got a place and a job. I’ve got unfinished business.”

  “We shook hands on it. You said you’d be my helper if I showed you how to get your mother back. I held up my end of the deal, showed you the hidden doorway to walk her out.”

  Haney shook his head, stepped back from Jonas. “Before. That was before. You hurt me. I slept for three days after we shook hands and nearly lost my job. I don’t want to do that no more. And my mom—she doesn’t want to go anywhere.”

  “Even more reason for you to help me find the ones who need me. You’ll have more time to convince her to come home. So that you can be together. I can help you with that. Besides, you have a real talent for finding people who need me.”

  Haney brightened, his features aglow with happiness. “I do?”

  “Yeah. You’re really good at it. You’re my number one guy.”

  “I’ve never been anyone’s number one guy.”

  “I rely on you. We’re like family.”

  Haney sobered. “My mom taught me that family doesn’t hurt each other.”

  “She’s right.” Jonas moved in front of Haney and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Family looks after family.”

  “I’ll do it,” Haney said, “for my family.”

  The vision faded as quickly as it began. I shoved my hand into the pocket of crystals, not out of need, but to protect myself from an incidental touch. The vignette with Jonas and Haney explained a lot. Jonas used Haney to find lost souls. Haney himself was lost, only he hadn’t known it. I admired him for trying to help his mom, wherever she was.

  From what I remembered, she’d disappeared when Haney was a child. Then he’d grown up alongside his dad, a shambling drunk who’d paid no attention to his boy. Seemed to me Haney had darn near raised himself.

  But I understood that feeling of being odd man out in a society where it seemed everyone else was normal. Of wanting to fit in. Of wanting to be loved. Jonas had tapped into Haney’s basic need, flattering him and promising him devotion Jonas had no intention of delivering.

  He’d played on Haney’s emotions and reeled him in like a trout on a line. Poor Haney. He’d lost his life and his chance to be with his mom.

  I viewed the knot of police cars. Seemed like they’d doubled in quantity while I was reading the tree. Was the GBI already here?

  Mayes was speaking to a group of law enforcement officers. The uniforms were different within the group, so neighboring counties must have loaned a couple of guys to the cause. Back home, my sheriff did the same from time to time.

  The shadows were lengthening. I headed toward the group, ducking under the crime-scene tape and stopping at Mayes’ vehicle. I felt a familiar tap on my shoulder. Whirling, I faced my father and hugged him. “Glad you’re here,” I said.

  Dad sported white coveralls and booties, so he’d already dressed for his job as coroner. “Lacey dropped me off. Larissa insisted you needed Elvis, so I put him in Mayes’ cruiser.” He pointed to the ambulance crew and a hearse. “I’ve got a sweet set-up over there. Having all this gear at my fingertips will spoil me for cases back home.”

  “If you need supplies, tell Wayne. He’ll make sure you get it at home.”

  “That he will.”

  “How is everyone? Should I call Larissa?” I asked.

  “She’s fine. She knew you were dreamwalking when we arrived, and she said she was proud of you for helping others.”

  After the day I’d had, to hear such wisdom from a ten-year-old brought tears to my eyes. I blinked and sniffed to cover my emotional state. “That’s good.”

  “How many are out there?” Dad asked.

  “Five was the last count, I believe.”

  “This is something, all right. Such a pretty place, but terrible things must have happened here.”

  “I don’t know what happened here, or if this is related to my other case. I don’t have the full picture yet of my killer. The first victim and the second died suddenly and in a similar manner. There’s an energy vampire involved. Those are the facts. These other elements—Twilla Sue refusing to wake up, the Little People’s anger at a theft, the flu epidemic at the rehab center, and this mass grave—seem to be independent of the murders. And yet, I can’t help thinking it’s all related. It’s maddening not to know the connections.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” my father said. “You always do.”

  “There’s figuring, and there’s proving it. That’s why Wayne and I are a good team back home. I’m not as confident about this crew. Mayes is nice and friendly and a spiritwalker, but is he up to the task? I don’t know.”

  “He has good energy,” my father said, as if that explained everything.

  A shadow crossed over us as Mayes approached. “I sense the same about you. Yours is a strong family.”

  The men studied each other. Finally my father nodded slightly. “Nesbitts don’t shy away from our responsibilities, and Baxley, she’s picking up where I left off.”

  Tick tock. Charlotte’s life was on the line. “Dad, we’ve arranged for Deputy Pruitt to drive you to the campsite when you’re done.” I caught Mayes’ gaze. “We need to hurry to make our next appointment.”

  “That we do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “You sure you aren’t part Native American?” Mayes asked with a grin once we were cruising down the highway again.

  “Not that I know of.” We’d gone from one tense situation to another this afternoon, and that hectic pace had allowed me to forget about what was in store for us now. I didn’t understand half of the stuff I could do, but the Little People had woo-woo gears on a whole other level. And just like that, fear rolled in. I tried to suppress the emotion, but it wouldn’t go away. One of my legs jittered. I pressed against it until the motion subsided.

  Elvis sniffed Mayes and gave him a lick of approval, then the Chihuahua trotted across the console to my seat in the police cruiser. I cradled the little therapy dog in my arms, and Elvis nestled in with a sigh of contentment. His good energy lapped at me, bringing a measure of balance and objectivity to my thoughts.

  The calm before the storm. That’s how this felt. A temporary respite, for sure, but I was glad of it.

  “The power running through your family line is unusual,” Mayes said. “I sensed the protection barrier around your daughter. You have taught her well.”

  I tensed at his reverent tone. “Leave her out of this. Larissa deserves a normal childhood. Ten-year-olds should be focused on the living.”

  “As you wish.” He made a right and then a quick left onto a road I hadn’t traveled before. “Your family secrets are safe with me, but once this is over, I would very much like to visit your family and walk your lands.”

  There it was again. Him, inserting himself into my future. My chest tightened, and I fought for breath. Anxiety, plain and simple. And anger. Now was not the time to explain my marital limbo. I couldn’t spare the emotional energy. I tamped down the anger, and dread swept in to take it
s place.

  How could he even think beyond this challenge we faced? I couldn’t. What if I couldn’t deliver Rose? What would the Little People do to our tomorrows? “One thing at a time, okay?”

  “Worrying never solved any problems. Our next appointment will happen whether we fret over it or think about something else. I prefer the later strategy.” He paused, then glanced over at me. “Tell me about the Tree of Secrets. You were over there for a while. Did you see something?”

  Distraction sounded like a great idea. “Haney and Jonas stood under that tree for a talk. I saw the replay of it. Jonas had a hold over Haney. Something to do with springing Haney’s mom. She’s alive, Mayes, but wherever she is, she doesn’t want to leave. Not even to be with her son. I just don’t get that. Is there a mental institution or something similar around here?”

  He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Nothing like that in our county.”

  “A prison?”

  “We have the county jail, but that’s it. If Haney’s mom was in our system, I’d know about it.”

  “What’s left? A cult? A gang? You got any of those?”

  “If she’s alive, we’ll find her. If she’s dead, you and I have a chance of finding her.”

  “Dead. Dear heaven. If we don’t get this right, Charlotte might never again see the light of day. Her body and her soul will be trapped in the mountain or wherever the Little People exist.” I pressed a fist against my mouth to hold in a sob. Elvis whimpered in my arms.

  “Breathe, Baxley,” Mayes said in a soothing tone. “I don’t plan on anyone dying on my watch. We’ll get through this.”

  My skin felt all prickly and too tight. Not even Elvis’ good vibes counteracted the ice in my bones. “I can’t help it. Charlotte is my best friend. The thought of failing her terrifies me.”

  “We won’t fail her.”

  His certainty floored me. “How can you be so sure?”

  “My dreams.”

  “You dream of stuff that hasn’t happened yet?” I studied his craggy profile. What were his secrets? It bothered me that I really wanted to know them. “How’s that possible?”