A Grave Calling

by Wendy Roberts

  But as I said that I wondered if he’d consider my close proximity to dead bodies to be contrary to that statement.

  He came behind the counter to take my place as I stepped out. There was a moment when he paused in the passing as our bodies slid against each other and it made my nerves ping.

  “Maybe now that I’m no longer the geek with the thick glasses and you’re germ free, we can go out for a coffee sometime.”

  The suggestion was put with a casual don’t-care-if-you-say-yes-or-no air, but it felt weighty none the less.

  “Well, sure, we could do that,” I said with a quick nod. Then I told him I had to run, gave him a wave and headed out the door.

  I wasn’t particularly attracted to Jonas with or without glasses but I was a little short on friends these days. It was probably a good idea for my personal sanity to keep the option of a coffee date with Jonas wide-open.

  Before work I’d put a small roast in Gramps’s slow cooker along with a handful of potatoes and carrots. When I walked in his house it smelled homey and delicious. Wookie had taken up residence on the kitchen floor directly in front of the counter that held the roast.

  “Somebody is hoping for a taste,” Gramps said.

  “That somebody is me,” I said with a smile.

  After I’d sliced and divided the roast and veggies, there was still enough for Gramps to have leftovers tomorrow. I brought our full plates to the table and we dug in.

  “So Katie came by for a visit today.” Gramps skewered a hunk of potato with his fork. “That was interesting.”

  A frown tugged at my mouth before I could replace it with a neutral stare.

  “Yeah? What did she want?” I asked around a mouthful of roast that now tasted like sawdust in my dry mouth.

  “It seems she thought it was time she took Wookie back.”

  My heart pounded painfully. I put down my fork and felt tears sting my eyes.

  I looked back down at my plate and began slicing off another hunk of meat. “So what did you tell her?”

  “I said that the dog was no longer hers since she dropped Wookie off for you to take care of five years ago.”

  “I’m guessing she didn’t see it that way.” I chewed my lower lip with worry. “And I guess you figured out that we had a fight.”

  “All I know is that I told her if she tried to come around here and take Wookie, I was going to get my shotgun and shoot her for trespassing.”

  There was an uneasy feeling in my skin. Part of me had been hoping that this was all a bad dream or, at the very least, Katie would be running over to apologize for banging Denny and begging to do my hair and go out dancing. If she wanted Wookie back she was severing ties and she was white-hot mad. Katie wasn’t used to being told no.

  “I’m sure that didn’t make her too happy.” I smiled. “Thanks, Gramps. I’ve become kind of attached to Wookie.”

  “Me too.” As he said that I pretended not to see him slide a sliver of roast beef under the table.

  “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you that Denny and I aren’t together anymore either.”

  He nodded. “I figured. He was the one who drove Katie here.”

  Ouch.

  “I guess betrayal comes from friends and not enemies,” I said on a sad sigh.

  “It cuts deeper that way for sure.”

  He was right. Knowing Denny had driven Katie to take Wookie was like a fine razor cut that stung in the instant but then much later, back at my own trailer, it throbbed painfully like a pulsing wound.

  It was hard to get my mind out of the quicksand. I’d lost my best friend, boyfriend and even Agent Pierce in just a few days. The yearning for booze was a relentless, lusty hunger. That small voice in the back of my head said I could handle it. That voice was the best infomercial convincer in the world: Not only can you have a drink but you can have two, yes, two bottles of wine and it won’t hurt at all. As a matter of fact, if you act today—right now—we’ll throw in a lot less guilt and blackouts and even erase some of that guilt, but only if you act right now.

  My inner voice was a pathological liar but that didn’t mean I could ignore it. I had three cups of different kinds of herbal tea and ate a bowl of popcorn just to have something to do with my hands and my mouth. Boredom was not my friend. Then I remembered the map inside my purse.

  With the methodical determination of a wife looking for proof of a cheating husband, I went over the road map and compared it to all the information I had on the missing girls and those we found. When plotted on the map the only thing I could see was that all had been taken from Northwest Washington and, unless Agent Pierce could find this guy, they would probably all die here.

  On the map it looked like a small patch of the state but it was almost five thousand square miles. Way too much area to be traipsing around with my little rods doing the corpse-searching-mambo to find bodies.

  Or was it? It wasn’t like my days were packed full of places to see, friends to coffee, or people to screw. I was actually friend and screw-free.

  Tapping a pen on top of the map, I thought about it. It wouldn’t hurt to do a little driving during the day. I didn’t need Agent Pierce to wander aimlessly in my Jeep with the rods on my lap. If I marked out the roads that went over rivers and creeks, that certainly narrowed down the routes considerably, probably reduced the streets from a thousand to five hundred even.

  Not that I actually wanted to find a dead girl. Of course if he was holding on to these girls for weeks and then killing them right before he dumped their bodies, it would be so much better if he could just be found and the girls saved. But if they were already dead, they needed finding. I looked at their faces on my laptop screen and sighed. Why couldn’t I have a psychic power to see the killer? Finding bodies using rods suddenly felt really stupid. But ridiculous or not, it was the only thing I had to occupy my brain.

  Idle hands might be the devil’s workshop but boredom was an alcoholic’s nemesis. My kryptonite. The Voldemort to my Potter. I needed to be busy.

  When I went to sleep that night it was with a plan weaving inside my head. My strategy was to work my shift from eight to two o’clock the next day and then spend a few hours in a different area of Dakota Creek than I’d fallen into when I was with Pierce. It might not be a perfect plan but it was, at least, a strategy to keep me from diving back into a bottle of cheap merlot.

  Unfortunately, the world had other plans. I was woken by the sounds of my phone ringing and Wookie barking simultaneously. I hushed the dog but he refused to quiet so I grabbed the phone and stuck a finger in my other ear so I could hear.

  “Hello?”

  “We’re letting you go,” said Margie. “We’ve had to hire security just so customers can get to the pumps.”

  “Wha—?” I glanced at my phone. It was six in the morning. “What are you talking about?”

  “The reporters are everywhere. I told them you no longer work here so half left but that still leaves more than I wanna deal with. Sorry, Julie, but we just can’t handle this kind of thing.”

  She disconnected and Wookie was going apeshit. I put my hand on his head and gave him a stern warning to shut the hell up. He stopped his rapid-fire barking but continued to growl.

  While I tried to wrap my brain around why I’d just been fired I grabbed my housecoat and walked into the kitchen. My phone rang again.

  “Gramps? Are you okay?”

  “Don’t answer your door. There’s gotta be a hundred of them!”

  “Of what?” I walked to the window and peered through the drapes. My stomach dropped. “Holy shit.”

  There were dozens of news vans and, Gramps was right, probably a hundred people in my driveway.

  “Sweet Jesus,” I muttered under my breath.

  Abruptly a reporter noticed my fac
e staring between the parted drapes and rushed forward. I snapped the drapes shut and stepped back. I remembered Gramps was still on the phone when I heard him rambling in my ear.

  “It’s all over the news,” he said. “Someone told them you were out with the FBI and that you were able to find two of the missing girls.”

  “No-o-o!”

  This was my worst nightmare come true.

  “Have they come to your door too?” I asked.

  “Yeah but I told them I was calling the sheriff. They’re trespassing. Forget the sheriff, I’m getting my rifle.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned. “I’m calling Agent Pierce.”

  I went into the bedroom and paced as I dialed his number. It went straight to voice mail.

  “You said you’d keep my name out of the papers! Now I’m surrounded by reporters. I don’t know what to do.” I meant to sound angry but the last bit came out on a whimper.

  “Okay, okay, okay...” I blew out a breath and tried to calm myself down. “This is not a zombie apocalypse. There isn’t a pitchfork in sight as far as I can tell. It’s only newspeople and they only want a story,” I told myself. “It’ll be okay.”

  My cell phone rang in my hand and I answered it, hoping it would be Pierce.

  “Julie Hall, can you confirm that your supernatural black magic is what helped the FBI find Luna Quinn and Iris Bell?”

  I hastily disconnected then stared at my phone in disbelief. Immediately, it rang again and I ignored it.

  Supernatural black magic? I ran my fingers through my hair. That was the kind of thing Denny would say but I couldn’t imagine him calling up news stations just to ruin my life.

  “Katie,” I murmured.

  Hell hath no fury like a Katie scorned.

  She was the only one who’d be this vindictive and pissed off. She told them what I did, where I lived, where I worked and gave out my cell number.

  A text came in and it was from Agent Pierce: Hang tight.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I cried and tossed the phone to the kitchen table.

  I went into my small living room, sat on the couch and pulled Wookie’s massive body onto my lap. His eyes were wild and his body shook with tension as he growled deep in his throat. Every once in a while he’d lick his lips and look at me nervously. If I let him out he could scare the reporters away but there was also a good chance he’d bite at least one, which could lead to a lawsuit and also cause him to be put down.

  “It’ll be okay,” I whispered and kissed the top of his large head.

  There was a bang and my door shuddered. Wookie ran to the door snapping, snarling and barking.

  “Bed,” I told him, reaching for my shotgun.

  He kept on barking when another bang was heard. Someone was throwing rocks at my house. It was a small old trailer that had its own dents and wear but nobody was going to trash what was mine.

  “Bed, Wookie,” I ordered a second time.

  He reluctantly went to his corner, sat and just looked at me. I tightened the belt on my robe and stepped outside with my gun.

  The mob rushed forward.

  “Can you tell us where the other girls are?” shouted one reporter.

  “How long have you been working with the FBI?” came from another.

  “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” yelled a particularly stupid woman with a death wish.

  I pumped the shotgun and brought it to my shoulder. The crowd took a step back and grew quiet.

  “You are trespassing on private land. I’m going to count to ten and if I don’t see your taillights I’m going to start shooting.” My voice was loud and clear but my hands shook like Chihuahuas in heat in a room full of horny Saint Bernards.

  “If you could just give us a second of your time...” a persistent reporter called out. “We just want to know—”

  “One,” I called and aimed the shotgun at him.

  Nobody moved.

  “Two.” My voice was louder this time and I was reaching deep inside for my inner bitch.

  A few of the crowd began walking backward to their vehicles.

  “Three.” I walked forward down one step.

  “Four,” I yelled and steadied my aim.

  By the time I got to six all but a couple were inside their vehicles and reluctantly leaving in a swirl of dust down my drive.

  “Seven.”

  I pointed the gun directly at one of the remaining few who had a camera focused on my face and a cocky grin.

  “Do you really feel that lucky?” I channeled my inner Dirty Harry but felt more like a skittish Pee-wee Herman. To add to my misery I felt the belt of my robe begin to slip.

  “Eight!” I screamed with more gusto than I felt.

  I was at the bottom of my steps now and I was tempted to fire off a shot just over his head but before I could totally lose my shit I heard sirens and could see a marked car racing down my drive with flashing lights. Grudgingly the photographer lowered his camera and those remaining got in their cars just as the local law pulled up.

  When the officer got out of his car, I lowered my gun and engaged the safety. He followed me inside.

  “Stay,” I told Wookie.

  “You’re to pack a bag and come with me,” the officer said.

  I tightened the belt of my robe as I turned and placed fisted hands on my hips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “That wasn’t a question.” He spoke through gritted teeth and thrust out his square jaw. “Gather your things.” The cop was my age or maybe a few years older so he couldn’t have been on the force long. He looked like he had something to prove and wasn’t above bullying me into following his orders.

  “Where exactly am I going?”

  “You’re going where I’m told to bring you,” he said.

  “Far as I can tell, this is still a free country and this is still my property so...” I sat down at my kitchen table like I had all day.

  We stared at each other for a few seconds and finally he appeared to rethink his bossy tactic.

  “I’m told I’m bringing you somewhere safe. FBI orders I’m guessing because we don’t have the manpower locally to protect you from reporters. I have my orders.”

  He looked around my small trailer with disdain.

  “The FBI isn’t paying as well as I thought,” he remarked.

  It rankled but I let it slide because obviously Agent Pierce had sent him and, at the moment, this was all I had.

  “What about my dog?”

  “I was told to bring you and only you.”

  I went into my bedroom and loaded up a small bag and then I called Gramps and told him what was happening.

  “Go with him and just call me when you get to where you’re going,” Gramps replied. “Leave the mutt with me. We’ve got rabbits to hunt.”

  “But, Gramps, the reporters will be back. They’ll probably harass you. We can put Wookie in a kennel and you can come with me.”

  “I’m not leaving my house and that’s final, young lady,” Gramps said. “Bring your big sack of dog food and treats when you come. We’ll be fine.”

  With a grunt of agreement I disconnected. At Mr. Bossy’s insistence, I dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt and pulled a sweatshirt over top. Since I didn’t know how long I’d be gone, I grabbed my gym bag and tossed in a few changes of clothes, some toiletries, a jacket, my boots and, of course, my rods. I stuffed my laptop and phone charger on top of all the clothes and then grabbed my map and a secret stash of gummy bears.

  The officer took the heavy bag and put it in his trunk while I hefted about twenty-five pounds of dog food and did the same. I snapped a leash on Wookie just in case he spied a wayward reporter on our way to the car and decided he wanted to snack on an
ankle. We drove up the bumpy gravel road half a mile to Gramps’s place, and Wookie happily bounded out of the car and up to the door.

  The cop stayed leaning against the hood of his car while I hauled Wookie and his dog food inside the house.

  For Wookie this was just like any other day his mamma would be going to work and he’d be hanging with Gramps, but for me it had an uneasiness about it.

  “I don’t like it.” I looked through Gramps’s drapes at the cop waiting for me. “I’m leaving my house just because Katie couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut. I’m sure she’s the one who called the newspeople.”

  “Katie?” Gramps thought about it a beat and nodded. “Guess that makes sense. She always had a mean streak.”

  “I don’t want to go. What about you and Wookie?”

  “Now don’t you be worrying about us. We can take care of ourselves. Maybe we’ll take a fishing trip.”

  Gramps pulled me into a hug. He wasn’t one for physical displays of affection and the brief embrace brought a lump to my throat.

  “Besides, Agent Pierce called and said he was going to have a big temporary fence put up across the driveway to at least keep them reporters off the yard.”

  “He called you?”

  “He sure did.” Gramps made shooing motions. “Now go. Be safe and do what you were meant to do. Let your bright light shine, little girl.”

  I buried my face in his neck as I returned to hug him tighter.

  “I don’t have a light, Gramps. I don’t.” I sniffed. “I’m just a big weirdo with some stupid metal sticks.”

  He pulled me away and with a firm grasp of my arms he gave me a sharp shake.

  “We both know you are definitely not made of sugar and spice and all things nice. You are tough as nails and smart as a whip. Nobody gets you down. Got it?” He turned away from me and headed toward his bedroom. As he walked away he mumbled, “Go get ’em, sweetheart. Help them catch the bad guy.”

  Outside, I stopped for a second and cracked my knuckles and gave myself a little pep talk, then walked toward the car. The officer stood there with the back door held open and a let’s-get-this-over-with look in his eyes. Once he gunned the accelerator, quite literally leaving my home in the dust, I settled back into the seat and tried to get a grip. Gramps was wrong. I wasn’t tough as nails. I was a jelly sandwich on soft white bread. With maybe a little tenacious green mold on the crust. As we angled off the drive and encountered all the reporters waiting, I sank low in the seat and covered my face with my hands.