“All right,” Rosemary said, her eyes shining. “That sounds like a good idea.”
After running a few searches, however, he began to wonder whether it was really that good an idea after all. Colorado had been dotted with both silver and gold mining towns, many of which flourished wildly before collapsing when the mine was played out. A few of them he could dismiss immediately, because the terrain wasn’t anything close to what Audrey had sent him in her vision. Even so, he still had about five viable candidates to choose from once he’d gone through that first round of eliminations.
He brought up a map of Colorado again. “Could be Silverton,” he said. “Or maybe Idaho Springs.”
Rosemary squinted at the map. “Of course they have to be on opposite sides of the state.”
There wasn’t much Michael could do about that, so he only shrugged. “I know it’s frustrating. Let’s start with Idaho Springs and see if we can come up with anything.”
For a moment, she didn’t reply. Then she leaned forward, one hand reaching out to touch the laptop’s screen. Voice dreamy, she said, “Yes, Idaho Springs.”
“You can see Audrey there?” The question came out sharper than he’d intended, but Rosemary didn’t seem to mind.
Still looking far away, she shook her head. “No, I don’t see her. It’s just…a feeling.”
Since Rosemary was a person whose feelings you generally didn’t question, Michael nodded, taking her statement at face value. “Let me see if I can find anything.”
He angled the laptop toward himself so it would be easier to type, then quickly ran an image search on Victorian houses in the Idaho Springs area. As usual, he had to wade through a lot of chaff, but as soon as he opened up one particular image, he somehow knew it was the one.
“That’s it,” Rosemary said, confirming his suspicions.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
Hardly daring to hope they were right, Michael enlarged the image to fill the laptop’s screen. The house was quite large, with a tower on one wing and what looked to be three stories, along with multiple fireplaces. A large brick walkway led up to it, and the house appeared to be surrounded by a dense ponderosa forest.
“The Bridger House,” he read aloud. “Built in 1892. It says it was sold at auction in the early 1930s, but there’s no mention of who bought it.”
“That would be our demon friend covering his tracks, right?” Rosemary sent him an inquiring look, and Michael nodded.
“Probably. But let’s see if we can find anything else.”
Since he now had the name of the house, it didn’t take too much work to get the parcel number from the assessor’s website for Clear Creek County. No address, though, which meant he wouldn’t be able to simply plug a street number into the nav on his phone and find the place that way. And unfortunately, the information for the parcel itself didn’t tell him very much.
“The property is currently owned by something called the Underhill Trust,” he told Rosemary. “I have to assume that’s what the demon uses to hide his investments. I could try to see if I can dig up any information about it, but I have a feeling it’s probably owned by another trust.”
“It’s all right,” she said. “We don’t really need to know that right now. The important thing is to get Audrey out of that house. Where’s Idaho Springs located, anyway?”
“About thirty miles west of Denver, looks like.”
“Well, that makes it easier. We can fly to Denver and then rent a car. It would be faster than driving, wouldn’t it?”
“Probably.” Michael brought up another tab, then did a quick search to locate that information. “Driving, it would take almost thirteen hours. Let me see what’s available in flights from Tucson to Denver.” Another search, and he frowned. “There isn’t anything leaving until tomorrow morning. The earliest direct flight is on Southwest. It would get us there at a quarter to nine.”
Rosemary looked troubled, but then she nodded, as if affirming something to herself. “That’s still better than driving. Even if we left now, we wouldn’t get there until noon at the earliest.”
Plus, there was the bad weather he knew covered most of Colorado right now. By morning, it would have moved on to the east, and they would have an easier time getting from Denver to the small town of Idaho Springs. He could only hope the roads would be plowed; it looked like the old gold mine was still a tourist attraction, so maybe keeping the highway open would be a priority.
“I’ll go ahead and book a pair of tickets, then,” he said, even as he worried that this was too little, too late, that something terrible was happening to Audrey while they wasted time with airplane tickets and internet searches. Still, what else could they do? Call the local authorities? Michael knew that he and Rosemary were going on pure instinct here; if he tried to explain to the Clear Creek County sheriff’s office that a demon was holding a colleague hostage at a mansion outside Idaho Springs, they’d probably hang up on him…if they decided to go easy and not try to bust him for filing a false report.
From outside the door came the sound of laughter, incongruous compared to the way he and Rosemary practically vibrated with tension. Then someone knocked at the door.
Michael wished he could ignore the knock, but he’d recognized the laughter and knew it was Colin and Daniela, coming back from wherever it was that they’d spent their evening. Luckily, he was almost done with his purchase, and he paused to hit the final “accept” button before he went to answer the door.
As he’d thought, Colin and Daniela were outside, looking a little worse for wear. Daniela’s usual sleek black ponytail had some long strands that had managed to escape it, and the cat-eye liner that emphasized her big dark eyes was smudged. Clearly, the two of them had decided they could party the night away since all they were doing was a few exterior shots the next day.
Good thing he doesn’t need me for those, Michael thought. Although we’re going to have to skip the introductory speech until I get back with Audrey.
“Hey, Colin,” he said evenly, although he was irritated by the interruption…and by the way Colin’s gaze slid right past him to focus on Rosemary, who’d turned in her seat so she could see what was happening in the doorway of his suite. Because he knew his producer was going to ask, Michael added, “This is Rosemary McGuire. She’s a friend of Audrey’s and came here to help with the search.”
“I didn’t know we had a search going on,” Colin replied.
Well, you might have if you’d bothered to stay in touch at all. However, although Michael could feel a frown digging at his brow, he kept that particular thought to himself. No point in getting into an argument this late in the game. “We’ve been checking some leads,” he said. “We’re pretty sure she’s in Colorado. I just got the tickets — our flight leaves tomorrow morning.”
At least one word in all that got through to his producer. “Tomorrow? We’re supposed to start filming the episode tomorrow.”
“You were only going to do exteriors anyway,” Michael pointed out. “We should be back sometime in the afternoon, so you can still shoot my intro when we get here.”
This was, of course, being extremely optimistic. He really had no idea what he and Rosemary might be facing when they reached Idaho Springs and the Bridger House. Their instincts could be failing them utterly, and they’d get there, only to find out they’d gone on a wild goose chase. Even if their psychic abilities had brought them to the correct place, he didn’t know what it would take to free Audrey from the demon who’d kidnapped her. This wasn’t some kind of simple minion like the ones that had tried to stop them from erasing the spell circles in the Glendora house — this was a being with the cunning and intelligence to hide himself in a human body for decades.
But Michael didn’t see the point in trying to explain any of that to Colin. Better to feed him some sunshine now and hope that it would all turn out for the best.
Daniela, who’d been hanging back behind Colin, peer
ed over his shoulder. In addition to the smudged eyeliner, her lip gloss was smeared, but she sent him a bleary smile. “That sounds like a good plan,” she said. “Come on, Colin — we all need to get to bed.”
“Right,” Michael said, thankful for her intervention. “Rosemary and I will have to be up by five to catch our flight. Don’t worry — we’ll still have plenty of time to get everything done here.”
And before Colin could protest, Michael closed the door. About all he could do was hope that his producer would give up the fight and head back to his room, mostly because Rosemary needed to get settled in her own room here at the B&B.
He heard some grumbling from outside the door, but then it subsided. Rosemary was standing now, one hand resting on the back of her chair.
“He’s gone,” she said. A quick grin, and she added, “He seems like a lovely person.”
“Not really, but he knows what he’s doing when it comes to putting shows like this together.” Michael reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, and hoped he didn’t have a headache coming on. After the day he’d just put in, it wouldn’t be all that surprising.
“Well, then,” she said, suddenly brisk. “I’ll head off to bed, too. When do we need to leave?”
“We should be out the door a little before six,” he said. “I don’t know what morning traffic is like around here, so I think we should give ourselves some extra time.”
“Not a problem,” she replied, although he thought he saw her wince a bit at the early hour. She didn’t strike him as a morning person, but they were already taking a big hit by having to wait for that nonstop flight. No way would they have left later in the day.
“You can meet me out in the parking lot,” he suggested, figuring it might be easier than showing up on her doorstep first thing in the morning.
“Sounds like a plan.” To his surprise, she gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. “It’s going to be fine, Michael. We’ll find her, and we’ll kick some demon ass.”
About all he could do was nod. He hoped Rosemary was right…
…but he desperately feared she was not.
Chapter 7
Audrey writhed under the demon’s grasp as her breath rattled in her throat. His fingers were cold, and felt as though they had been forged from steel. “Let me go!” she gasped, surprised that she had even enough air to get out those three syllables.
“Eventually,” he said. “I don’t want you talking to people who tell tales out of school, especially a weak-minded fool like the man who once owned this body. Understand?”
All she could do was nod. Her heart pounded, and sweat glued her T-shirt to her body, even though it was chilly in here, drafts finding their way past the casement windows that overlooked the snowy yard. How the demon had even been able to tell she was speaking with Jeffrey Whitcomb, Audrey had no idea.
But…that was only a dream, wasn’t it?
Maybe not. She most definitely hadn’t been awake, but perhaps her soul had walked on the astral plane, rather than being lost in REM sleep. She’d never tried astral projection, had never been entirely sure it was even a real phenomenon, and yet….
It didn’t feel like a dream. She could remember every detail of Jeffrey Whitcomb’s appearance, from the heavy, straight black brows to his thin lips to the long, dark coat he’d been wearing. One might say that was easy enough, since the demon had stolen his body, but the Jeffrey she’d met in that otherwhere was not the same one who glared down at her now. His clothing was different, his demeanor was different.
And he’d still been wearing a gold band on the ring finger of his left hand. The demon holding her captive certainly bore no such sign of marital fidelity.
As frightened as she was, Audrey knew she had to fight back somehow. She didn’t want to cower here, have him think he’d beaten her. Suddenly, she recalled the words of the prayer Michael had taught her. It had helped to drive back the demons in the basement. Maybe it could help her now.
“The light of God surrounds me;
The love of God enfolds me;
The presence of God watches over me;
Wherever I am, God is!”
The words came out in a roar, even though just a minute earlier, she’d barely been able to gather enough breath to push out three simple syllables. At once, the demon’s grip on her throat loosened, and he staggered backward a few paces, dark eyes blazing with fury and pain.
That was the only opening she needed. He stood between her and the hallway, but there was an open path to the bathroom. She ran for it, then slammed the door behind her and turned the lock.
For a long, long moment, she only heard an ominous silence. Then there came the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. They stopped. The doorknob turned, but only part of the way before the lock prevented it from going any further.
A low, evil chuckle. “Do you really think this will keep me out?”
She honestly didn’t, but there hadn’t been any place else for her to run. A quick, frantic look around the bathroom told her there wasn’t much here in terms of items she could use for defense. Tucked away next to the toilet was a plunger, and that was about it. Audrey supposed she could use it to hit him over the head or maybe poke him in the eye, but mostly likely that wouldn’t do any real damage and would only make him angrier.
“You’re not in here yet, are you?” she returned, even as she bent to open the cupboard under the sink to see if there was anything useful there. Unless you could count spare rolls of toilet paper as an offensive weapon, she was definitely out of luck.
The door rattled again. Then, to her horror, it began to bulge in the center, as if some kind of horrible pressure was being exerted on the wood. Even as she stared at it, the door seemed to contract, then bulge outward again. The overall effect was of something huge and inhuman breathing, inhaling and exhaling, and cold sweat began to drip down her back.
Once again, she sent a frantic look around her, but there just wasn’t anything useful here.
Except….
Audrey’s gaze fell on the brass sink faucet. She thought of how Michael had flung those vials of holy water at the demons, had made them shriek, their skin smoking from the impact of the blessed liquid. No, she wasn’t a priest or a nun or an ordained minister like Michael, but her words had some power, or she wouldn’t have been able to use the prayer to get away from her captor.
It was worth a try. And if it didn’t work, maybe the Whitcomb-demon would be so busy laughing at her feeble attempts to resist him that he wouldn’t retaliate. After all, he’d said murder was messy. She didn’t think he would kill her.
But he might do something worse. Her stomach clenched as she imagined what that “worse” might be…the same “worse” that had happened to Alice Whitcomb, only she hadn’t realized the thing in her bed wasn’t actually her husband.
Pushing that thought out of her head, Audrey picked up the plastic tumbler that sat next to the sink, then filled it with water. Under her breath, she recited the words of the Lord’s Prayer, since she had no idea what else to say.
A horrible creaking sound filled her ears. She turned away from the sink to see the door bulging and contracting again. This time, fine cracks began to appear in the old wood, telling her that it wouldn’t be able to hold up against this treatment for much longer.
She sucked in a breath, sent another prayer heavenward for good measure, then reached out with her free hand and unlocked the door. For one brief second, the demon’s black eyes met hers, flaring with surprise.
No time to stop to think. She shouted, “The light of God surrounds me!”, and flung the cupful of water she’d blessed right in the Whitcomb-demon’s face.
He didn’t exactly scream, “I’m melting!”, but the effect was nearly as dramatic. His hands clawed at his face, leaving deep gouges behind. Dark blood welled up from those gouges, even as he wailed in pain.
Staggering backward, he tripped over the edge of the Persian carpet and fell down with a crunch that made
Audrey wince. “You bitch!” His voice sounded different, deeper, rasping with anger.
“I’ve got plenty more where that came from!” she shot back. Her whole body shook, as though it couldn’t quite recognize that, against all hope, she’d somehow prevailed against the inhuman bastard. “So leave me alone!”
She slammed the bathroom door and engaged the lock. After that, she went back over to the sink and refilled the cup with water, performed the same ritual over it that she’d done previously. Hands trembling, she clung to the cup, waiting for the demon to come back.
But he didn’t. Or rather, she heard a terrible, harsh breathing, followed by scraping noises, as if he was hurt badly enough that he couldn’t stand, had to drag himself across the floor to escape the bedroom.
And then the bang of a door.
Audrey remained where she was, fingers curled around the cool plastic of the cup. There was no way to know when he’d be back…if he’d be back.
But for now, she’d bought herself some time.
The runway had been plowed, of course, but it was easy enough to see that Denver had gotten a good coating of fresh snow overnight. Michael only had the leather coat he’d brought with him to Tucson, and clearly Rosemary was faring even worse in the cold, judging by the way she held her arms around herself.
“Damn it,” she said, teeth chattering a bit before she climbed into their rented Jeep Wrangler. “I packed for Tucson weather, not Denver!”
“Sorry,” Michael replied, reaching at once for the climate controls so he could turn the heater up full blast. “I didn’t know I was going to have to take this kind of field trip, either.”
She shrugged. “I know. Good thing I packed some boots at least.” Under the long gypsy skirt she wore, she wriggled her feet, briefly revealing the low-heeled slouch boots she wore. “Could have been worse.”
He supposed it could have. Right then, he was just grateful for the three cups of coffee he’d drunk on the flight here, since he’d passed a restive night, unable to fully fall asleep, his brain overloaded with worry for Audrey. Probably he’d gotten two or three hours of sleep at the most, but he figured he could crash after this, after she was safe.
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