Blood Ghost (The Hunting Tree Book 2)

by Ike Hamill

  “That so?” Merritt asked. “German Shepherd?”

  “Yes. Thank god, did you see him?” Don asked.

  “I’ve seen him before, but not in the past couple of days,” Merritt said.

  Don’s relief was immediately replaced with disappointment.

  “Weren’t you that kid that was over in the hospital?” Roland asked. He couldn’t hide his curiosity. This was the young man they’d planned to track—the one who was the new “boyfriend” of the witch—and here he was at the trailer, looking for his lost dog.

  “His name is Barney. When did you see him last?”

  Merritt ignored Don’s question, just as Don had ignored Roland.

  “Yes, you were over at CMG two nights ago. Should you be riding your bicycle around looking for a dog?” Merritt asked.

  Don looked between the two men and then back to his bicycle. Don looked pale and weak and uncertain in the afternoon sun. The sound of the summer crickets replaced the conversation for a few seconds.

  “How do you know I was in the hospital?” Don asked.

  “We saw your parents when the cops were about to escort them up to you. Your dad was in a big hurry—said you were in serious condition.”

  “I recovered,” Don said.

  “What’s your name?” Merritt asked. “Something Stovington, right?”

  “Covington,” Don said. “Don Covington. If I give you my phone number, can you let me know if you see my dog? His name is Barney and he’s a big German Shepherd He’s got a lot of black on him.”

  “I know what the dog looks like,” Merritt said. “But you’re not looking for a dog, are you?”

  “What?” Don asked.

  “Yeah, I had that same look about me at one point,” Merritt said. “You’d like to know what happened to your girlfriend, wouldn’t you. Well she’s moved on, son. She went to find someplace a little more quiet.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a girlfriend,” Don said.

  “I think you do. I think you had a girlfriend you met in the woods every night, and even though she almost killed you, you miss her,” Merritt said.

  Don blinked hard, as if the sun was suddenly too bright and the day too warm for him to be away from a nice cool bed. He moved towards his bicycle and turned his back on the two men.

  Merritt and Roland sat on the porch and watched him walk away.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to get home?” Roland asked. “Do you need a ride, or maybe you want to call your folks?”

  “I’m fine,” Don said. He waved a hand back at the two men.

  They watched Don lean his bike over to get his leg on the other side. He rolled it along for several paces before he tried to sit on top of it. The tires wobbled until Don was nearly out of sight. The sound of his tires ponging away pebbles was eventually replaced by the chirping crickets. Roland spat in the grass beside the porch.

  “What grown man eats candy bars for a snack?” Merritt asked. “Don’t you have fruit or anything in there?”

  “It goes bad,” Roland said. “Candy has more sugar and it lasts forever.”

  Merritt folded his wrapper down its length and then again until it was a strip. Then he tied the wrapper into a little bow.

  “It’s maybe a fifteen minute walk through the woods to get here and that kid rode his bike all the way around the horn. Must have taken him forty-five minutes, and a lot more sweat,” Roland said.

  “He’s probably visiting a lot of houses. Nobody is going to trust some guy appearing out of their back yard,” Merritt said.

  “You really think he’s looking for the witch?”

  “Doubtless. I know first-hand—quitting her is a bitch. And I was just a once-a-week guy. She barely even had a hold on me. Probably because I didn’t live right nearby and she couldn’t get at me every night of the week. I’m pretty sure this kid didn’t even know what he was in to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “While you’re with her, you know everything about the witch. Afterwards, you get this kind of amnesia. I always had you to remind me what was going on, but if this kid didn’t have anyone to talk to, he might not remember any of it. Doesn’t matter now that she’s gone. He’ll eventually get over it. Least he didn’t die, like that other kid,” Merritt said.

  “I don’t know. He looked pretty frail.”

  “But on the mend. They let him out of the hospital, didn’t they?”

  “I’ll bet you anything that his parents didn’t know he was riding his bike around the neighborhood today,” Roland said.

  “I wouldn’t take that bet.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  DonCo

  DON’S VISION WAS BLURRY and his hands shaking by the time he rolled his bicycle back up to the garage. He wanted to just throw his bike down and drag himself back inside, but he forced himself to hang it up properly, so nobody would guess that he’d used it that day. The exertion took its toll. By the time Don climbed the steps to the door, he had to drag himself up with the bannister.

  “I’m stronger than this,” he whispered. Don forced himself upright as he walked through the door. His head swam and he stumbled down the hall. He made it as far as the couch in the living room. He shoved his shoes under the table and pulled a thin blanket on top of himself. He fell asleep still damp with sweat. The sweat smelled antiseptic, like the hospital had infused his bodily fluids with some kind of cleanser.

  Don woke frequently, and remembered tiny fragments of his dreams. He was driving his yellow Oldsmobile through the fog. Instead of the car pulling out from the driveway, he saw Kyle holding hands with a tiny naked woman. She looked like one of those blow-up alien dolls from the fair. Her head was too big for her body and her limbs looked spindly but strong as wire. At Kyle’s other side, Barney sat. In his dream, Don dragged the wheel to the left and his car slipped into a skid.

  Kyle and the little alien woman disappeared at the last second. Don’s Oldsmobile plowed through Barney. The dog just sat there, obediently refusing to move even as two tons of steel swept through his position. Don heard hollow thump of dog against car just as he woke.

  “How are you doing?” Wes asked. He was sitting on the edge of the couch. The light from the hall was at his back, and the living room lights were off. Don squinted and tried to make out his father’s face.

  “Dad?”

  “I see you got dressed, that’s a good sign,” Wes said. “You’re sweating. Do you want the ceiling fan on? Something to drink?”

  “Could you turn on the lights?” Don asked.

  “Sure,” Wes said. He reached over Don to the light on the table. Before he’d turned on the light, Don smelled his father’s scent and was reassured. “That better?”

  “Much,” Don said.

  “Chelsea made up signs at work and we posted them all around. I also called animal control and asked them to be on the lookout. I’m going to walk through the woods to the Umber’s and see if I can spot anything.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Don said.

  “No, you need to stay here. You clear your blood test on Wednesday and we’ll talk about when you’re allowed to be up and around,” Wes said. Don watched his father stand and pick up his bag. He watched him closely—like Wes might slip up and reveal himself as an impostor. “I’m going to go get changed and then I’ll start dinner. What do you think about salmon?”

  “What happened with Mom?” Don asked.

  “What do you mean?” Wes asked.

  “With the police—didn’t she have an interview today?”

  “That was yesterday. I thought we already talked about it,” Wes said. “She doesn’t remember anything because she got knocked on the head by the crazy woman. Police are still looking for signs of the woman who attacked Seth and that other man. They found some footprints over near the Umber’s and near where that other man was stabbed.”

  “But Mr. Umber isn’t saying that Mom cut his neck, right?”

  “No, no. He
never said that. He pointed at your mom when they first asked him, but he was still in shock. The police think that a hitchhiker got confused and lost in the woods. She attacked Seth and then that other man and then she ran off.”

  “Why was mom at the Umber’s?”

  Wes shrugged. “I don’t know. Everyone’s fine and it looks like the attacker has run off. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “You don’t think the lady that stabbed Mr. Umber could have hurt Barney, do you?”

  Wes sighed. He scratched the side of his face. Don heard his father’s calloused hand rasp against his stubble.

  “I don’t know. Let’s hope not. They had a dozen men in the woods looking for evidence. I’m sure if Barney was hurt they would have found something,” Wes said. He left the room and Don heard him climbing the stairs. Don put his arm across his forehead and stared up at the ceiling.

  Barney had never run off before. When Kyle and Don used to play in the woods or in the back yard, he always stayed close by, never wandering off or even showing any desire to be away from his family. Barney was completely loyal. After Kyle died, Barney had become Don’s dog. The transition was smooth and natural. Then, with Don carted away in an ambulance, and with Wes driving him all over the state, Barney had become confused. That must be it—Barney had left the Umber’s house in search of Don. Through this logic, Don blamed himself for the dog’s absence. It wasn’t his father’s fault for not watching, or Seth Umber’s fault for not fixing his screen door, it was Don’s fault. He’d been taken to the hospital and left Barney alone. Now Barney was gone.

  Don felt the guilt settling back on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. There was something else bothering him though—something the man outside the trailer had said. Ms. Umber had always warned the boys away from that trailer. She always said those people were up to no good.

  “Dad?” Don yelled.

  Wes came down the stairs in a hurry, pulling a golf shirt over his head.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Can we drive back to the beach house? Maybe Barney went there.”

  “Donny, that’s crazy. He was only there for a couple of hours and that’s a long haul for an old dog. Even if he did try to go there, he’d never make it.”

  “He has to be somewhere,” Don said.

  “Give the signs a chance to work, we just put them up. Someone will find him, and if the signs don’t work, he’s wearing a collar with his name and number.”

  “It’s Kyle’s number though. I never changed his tag—I didn’t even think to do it. If someone finds him they’re going to call Kyle’s phone and it’s already disconnected.”

  “Oh,” Wes said. “Well then they’ll see a sign. We put them up all over the place, and they’ve got his ugly mug front and center. We’ll find him.”

  “Who were those people in the woods that night?”

  “Which?”

  “You said there were all kinds of people out there, maybe one of them saw him?”

  “I wouldn’t think so, Donny. They were all involved in their own drama.”

  “But who were they?”

  “Well, there was Marianne. We’d almost forgotten about her because there was the cop, the guy who got stabbed, his two friends, some woman—parent of the year, I imagine—and her son. It was quite a scene.”

  “And did you ask any of them if they’d seen Barney?” Don asked.

  “We didn’t think of it. We didn’t even know he was missing at the time,” Wes said.

  “So they might have.”

  “If they did, I’m sure they’ll see our signs.”

  “But didn’t you say that some of those people weren’t from around here?”

  “Yeah, I think the woman was from Lisbon or somewhere. Some town in the middle of Maine.”

  “Do we have a number for them?”

  “No,” Wes said. He straightened his shirt and arranged the collar. “I’m going to start dinner. Any special requests, or should I make the normal slop?”

  Don thought about it for a second. “You said salmon.”

  “That’s right, I did.” Wes put on a smile and turned towards the kitchen.

  “Hey, Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Those other guys who came out of the woods. Was one of them the guy who lives in that trailer on Cottle Hill?” Don asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. Actually, don’t a couple of them live over there? What made you think of that?”

  “They’re the closest if you go straight back through the woods. I figured they must have been the ones who were out in the woods that night.”

  “Well, I think so,” Wes said. “Why don’t you see if Chelsea will drive you over there? You can ask if they’ve seen Barney.”

  “I don’t know,” Don said. He considered telling his father that he’d already talked to those men, but quickly dismissed the idea—no sense in causing more worry.

  “Chelsea?” Wes called.

  “Yeah?” she answered. She didn’t wait for explanation before pounding down the stairs. “What’s up?”

  “You want to drive your brother over to the Cottle Hill Road?” Wes asked.

  “Sure! I’m allowed?”

  “Just keep it under the speed limit and try not to hit any trees,” Wes said.

  “I’m not sure I’m up for it,” Don said. “I’m still pretty tired.”

  “Oh, come on,” Chelsea said. “All you have to do is sit there. I’ll be doing the hard work.”

  “Seriously,” Don said. “Maybe tomorrow. I don’t feel up to it today.”

  “Just do it,” Wes said. “It will feel good to do something proactive. Even if they haven’t seen him, you can ask them to give you a call if they do see anything. And Chelsea’s driving will scare some life into you.”

  Don almost smiled—his father’s idea was almost precisely what he’d already done.

  “Come on,” Chelsea said. “Please?”

  “Fine,” Don said.

  # # # #

  “You’ve gotten a lot better at backing up,” Don said.

  Chelsea turned the vehicle around quickly and neatly and the two were on their way. She drove with an easy confidence.

  “Look, I don’t want to go over to that guy’s trailer,” Don said.

  “What?” Chelsea asked. “Why not?”

  “I already talked to those guys. I just didn’t want to say so in front of Dad,” Don said.

  “You little sneak,” Chelsea said. She smiled at her brother. “You were out riding around when you were supposed to be sick all day. I knew it.”

  “You didn’t know shit.”

  “Yes, I did too. I knew because you had socks on. You never put your socks on unless you’re going to put on shoes. And when we went to leave, your shoes were under the table. You only put on your shoes when you’re leaving the house. So you walked through the woods and paid a visit to the trailer?”

  “No, I rode my bike,” Don said.

  “That’s like ten miles of hills. You’re supposed to be resting, remember?”

  “It’s not that far. Besides, it’s not like I had surgery or anything. I was just tired.”

  “It’s all that running around at night,” Chelsea said.

  Don blinked at the sun. It was flashing through the trees, casting long, summer-evening shadows. The deep green of the woods looked inviting, like you could find the perfect spot to sit and be alone with your thoughts.

  “What did you say?” Don asked.

  Chelsea looked at him. She gave him a cautious assessment before continuing.

  “I’ve seen you going out at night,” she said. “I saw you and Barney go out.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Whatever,” Chelsea said. She began slowing down at least a hundred yards from the stop sign and then came to a complete and total stop. She looked both ways. There were no cars coming from either direction and nothing behind them. In their neighborhood, they could go an afternoon and only see a couple of ca
rs.

  “Any time,” Don said.

  “Are we going right or left?”

  “Take a right. How the hell would we get over there if we took a left?”

  “I don’t know. I never come out this way,” Chelsea said. She turned the wheel and started down the road.

  “I take Barney out for walks every night. I have to do that.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Chelsea said, picking up the earlier conversation. “I’m talking about when you took him out and then wandered into the woods for an hour.”

  “Seriously—what are you talking about?” Don asked.

  “Where’s Cottle Hill Road?”

  “It’s about a mile up on the right,” Don said. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “Do you remember when I saw you and Barney down the road from our place that one night?”

  “No.”

  “It was the middle of the night, and you were out there in your Spiderman pajamas. I thought I was hallucinating, but when I got home you really were wearing the those pajamas.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I didn’t think anything about it for awhile, but then I got curious. I waited up a few nights to see. You went out every night with Barney. You walked across the yard and then just disappeared into the woods. Most nights you would be gone for an hour. I thought maybe you were doing drugs or something out there, but the hospital toxicology thingy said you were clean. Dad asked like three doctors if you were on drugs. They all said the same thing—if you had taken any drugs in the past week or ten days, they would have seen some trace of it in your blood. So now I know it wasn’t drugs.”

  “That was just me taking Barney out to go to the bathroom, Chelse.”

  “At two in the morning? For an hour?”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “I took a video on my phone. You can see, I recorded the time and everything. Do you have a boyfriend? You can tell me.”

  “What? What are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not even gay.”

  “I saw him that night by the road. I thought it… Never mind. Anyway, I saw him.”

  “Chelsea, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I’m not buying it.”