Acheron Highway: A Jonathan Shade Novel

by Gary Jonas

  Inside the dojo, I was surprised to see Brand standing in the center of the mats, allowing a woman to punch him repeatedly. He saw me come in. He nodded and made a show of clenching a fist as if he planned to punch the woman, but he opened his hand and kept it out of play. The look on his face amused me. I knew he wanted to hit back. Kelly stood on the side of the mat with the rest of the women in the class. Her eyes met mine, and she made a quick eye move toward Brand as if to say, Can you believe this? When she smiled, it reached her eyes, and that was a nice thing to see.

  OK, I thought, he was trying and it was making Kelly happy, so Brand could stay. He’d need to understand that I was the only one who was allowed to crack bad jokes, but that could wait.

  I nodded to Kelly then went into her office and sat down. A glance at the clock told me there were another twenty minutes of class time. I closed my eyes, but before I could drift off for a quick power nap, my phone rang.

  I looked at it and saw it was Walter.

  “What’s up, Walter?”

  “Zach Banner is up.”

  “Say what?”

  “Zach Banner just got home.”

  “He’s dead. Skeleton. Buried.”

  “Looks mighty healthy to me. I damn near had a heart attack when I went out to get my paper and saw him pull into his driveway and get out of his car.”

  My mind raced. Walter kept talking, saying something about Zach waving to him, but I was wondering about the skeleton in Zach’s backyard. Was that someone else? I made a note to call O’Malley to see if they were able to verify the identity of the corpse, though I suspected that since we’d found the body on Friday and it was just Monday, they wouldn’t have had time.

  “Well?” Walter said and I got the impression he’d said it more than once.

  “Well what?”

  “You gonna get your ass over here, or do I go talk to the son of a bitch myself?”

  “Stay home, Walter. I’ll cruise over and have a chat with Zach. I have to let you go. I have another call coming in.”

  I switched to the other caller, Miranda.

  “Hey, good lookin’,” I said.

  Her voice held an edge of panic when she spoke. “I just got a phone call from Zach.”

  “Interesting. What did Dead Boy want?”

  “Oh my god, I thought he’d been liquefied.”

  “Me too. Stay calm and talk to me. What did he say?”

  The words came at me fast as bullets. “I didn’t talk to him. I let it go to voice mail. He just said he missed me and wanted to get together, and my whole body is shaking right now and I just want to hide.”

  “Guess he doesn’t know he lost your heart.” I spoke slowly to try to use my voice as a tether to keep her from flying away.

  “What do I do? What if he shows up?” She sounded on the verge of tears.

  “If he calls back, do what you just did. Let it go to voice mail. I’m going to go talk to the guy and see what’s up. If he shows up at your door, pretend you’re not home and don’t answer.”

  “You’re taking this in stride, but I’m freaking out here. He was dead, Jonathan. How could he come back?”

  “It might have been someone else in that grave,” I said.

  “Or nothing can kill him and he’ll keep coming at me like the Terminator! I can’t deal with this! I want my fucking life back!”

  “Calm down, Miranda. I’m on my way over to Zach’s place. I’ll keep you posted. For now, I want you to breathe.”

  “Breathe? What the hell are you talking about? I need to—”

  “Take a deep breath.”

  She rambled for a moment then stopped as if my words had finally registered. She took a deep breath.

  “Again. Deep breath...hold it...let it out.”

  We went through this a few more times until she seemed more settled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I feel like I’m trapped in a horror movie and the monster is outside, clawing to get in, and the hero is too far away to save me.”

  “You’re fully capable of saving yourself,” I said.

  “I’m scared.”

  “It’s all right to be scared. That tells you you’re still alive.” I kept talking as I stepped out of Kelly’s office. I gave Kelly a salute as I left the dojo. She glanced at the clock then back to me and mimed eating. I shook my head and pointed to my phone to let her know lunch was off. I suppose I could have asked her to come along or to have her go sit with Miranda while I talked to Zach, but she still had fifteen minutes of class, and I suspected I wouldn’t need her for this. I knew Miranda still needed me, though. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  Focusing on the conversation at hand kept me from really feeling the cold wind. Miranda kept going over things, and I kept doing my best to calm her down. By the time she was OK to hang up, I was already in the car and halfway to Zach’s place. She knew she could call me if she needed me and that I was going to do what I could to make everything all right.

  #

  Walter met me in his driveway.

  “Nice car,” he said.

  “Very funny. Is Zach still home?”

  “I’m serious. I like this car.” He walked around it and kept nodding with appreciation. “I may have to buy one of these. What kind of gas mileage does it get?”

  I couldn’t wait to give it back and get a real car, but maybe in forty years, I’d see things more like Walter. Yeah, like I would live another forty years. Keep dreaming.

  I zipped my coat higher and danced from foot to foot, trying to keep warm.

  “You gotta pee?” Walter asked.

  “No, I’m freezing.”

  “This isn’t cold. I spent a winter in Alaska. Now that is cold.”

  “Zach?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s still home.”

  I nodded and started down the sidewalk.

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “I got this,” I said.

  Walter went back to admiring the car.

  As I approached the door, I wished Esther weren’t so mad at me. It would be nice to have a heads-up, but I rang the bell like a normal person and waited. The door opened and Zach Banner stared at me as though I were a Mormon missionary wanting to sing the praises of Jesus in America.

  “Help you?” he said. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but his eyes were dead. I instantly felt I couldn’t trust him.

  “I hope so,” I said. “I just need a few minutes of your time. Can I come inside?”

  “No. What do you want?”

  “I want to talk to you about Miranda Hammond.”

  “Who are you?”

  “The guy who’s dating her,” I said.

  “Sorry to hear that. Have fun with the psycho bitch.”

  He started to close the door, but I put my foot in the gap to keep it from closing. “Have a heart,” I said.

  The hesitation before he responded told me he realized I knew a little more about the situation than he first thought. “Oh,” he said. “I do.”

  “Guess you haven’t checked your cabinet since you got home.”

  He gave me an odd look. Now the suspicion elevated his breathing, and he glanced toward the basement door but didn’t budge from where he stood blocking the doorway. “Move your foot or I’ll break it,” he said.

  I pulled my fingers free of my right glove, folded them into a fist, and placed my hand on the doorjamb. As I spoke, I moved my hand down so the fingers of the glove covered the bolt retainer. “No problem. Go check on the heart. I’ll wait here.”

  “What heart?”

  “You know.”

  I moved my foot, and he shoved the door closed. Of course, the fingers of my glove kept the door from latching. I pulled my hand free, waited a moment, then pushed the door open.

  Zach Banner punched me in the face.

  “Nice try, asshole,” he said and went for another punch, but I blocked it.

  The first punch stung more than usual thanks to the cold. I made a note not to
piss off Esther. She could have warned me had she been here. Oh well.

  I blocked another punch then pushed my way into the house and punched Zach in the nose. He went down. Blood streamed from his nostrils, and he cupped his nose.

  I crouched just out of his reach. “Tip your head back,” I said, knowing it would make him suffer longer..

  He kept an eye on me but tilted his head back.

  I gave him a smile. “I’m not going to hit you again if you behave. Want me to get you a tissue?”

  “Don’t have any.”

  “Toilet paper? Maybe a napkin or a paper towel?”

  He pointed. “Kitchen. Paper towels under the sink.”

  I rose, closed and locked the door, then went and got him a paper towel. I noticed that the sliding glass door was closed, but the latch was still bent. I glanced out at the backyard. I didn’t see any crime scene tape by the grave, so either the forensic team had finished up already or Zach found it and took it all down. I pulled my gun before I stepped back into the hall, but when I stepped around the corner, I saw that he hadn’t moved, so I holstered my weapon and approached him.

  He accepted the paper towel.

  “That really hurt,” he said.

  “It was supposed to. Can we talk without our fists now?”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Jonathan Shade and—”

  “The private investigator?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I—”

  “My bosses hate you. You’re dating Miranda?”

  “You took her heart.”

  “What do you mean? I dated her but that girl doesn’t have a heart.”

  “She got it back.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked. He was a pretty good actor, but I wasn’t handing out Oscars just yet.

  “Right. Where have you been?”

  “Tucson. My mother is in the hospital. Stage four adenocarcinoma. It’s terminal.”

  “Under normal circumstances, I’d feel bad for you. Unfortunately for you, I know that your mother was in a cabinet in your basement, so if you’re trying to get sympathy, you’re shit out of luck.”

  He stared at me for a long moment then sighed and nodded. “It was terminal ten years ago,” he said. “I didn’t know any healers back then, but after she died, I was able to keep her going the same as I’d been able to resurrect my father. In a perfect world, our parents would never die and leave us.”

  I nodded because he’d finally said something with which I agreed. Even now, all these years later, I still missed my parents. People who’ve never lost a parent have no clue about the empty void a parent’s death leaves in your life.

  “OK, I know I’m sick,” he said after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “But I did let them go to a large degree.”

  “Try again, dude. I saw the big cabinets of formaldehyde in the basement.”

  “I haven’t awakened them in five years. Not that I haven’t been tempted...but I’ve resisted.”

  “Resisting will be easy from now on thanks to your pals at DGI.”

  He stared at me and realized there was something more going on than he thought. “What do you mean?”

  I gestured toward the basement door. “Your folks and your wife have left the building. Have a look.”

  He dabbed at his bloody nose a few times but seemed satisfied that no more blood stained the white patches of the paper towel. I was ready for him if he decided to try anything, but he simply rose and went to the basement door. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and descended the stairs. I followed him.

  The cabinets were empty. The big glass cages were still there, but the skeletons had been removed. Nasty gunk still floated at the top of the formaldehyde. I tried not to think about it.

  “Gina? Mom? Dad?” He turned toward me, tears welling in his eyes. “Where are they?”

  “My guess would be a funeral home.”

  He bowed his head. “That’s probably best.”

  “So where were you?”

  “Hmm?”

  “This past week?”

  “I don’t know. The last several days seem like a blur.”

  “Who was buried in your backyard?”

  His confused look seemed genuine. “What?”

  “There was a body buried in your backyard. Had your wallet in his back pocket.”

  He reached for his back pocket and patted it. “What the hell? Where’s my wallet?”

  “We put it back.”

  “Back?”

  “In the pocket. We thought it was you.”

  “What the hell is going on?” He rubbed his temples.

  “I have suspicions,” I said, “but no real answers.”

  “I feel like I’ve had my head used as a basketball, my body for a doormat, and my life turned inside out and set on fire.”

  He went back upstairs, walked over, and dropped the bloody paper towel in the trash. Then he leaned against the kitchen counter. He turned his head and gazed at the backyard. “A body was buried out there?”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed away from the counter and went to unlock the sliding glass door. He stared at the bent lock, shrugged as if that were the least of his worries, then slid the door open and stepped onto the back porch. He wasn’t wearing a coat but didn’t seem to notice the cold wind.

  I went to the door but remained inside. The cold air rushing into the house was bad enough. I didn’t want to go out into it.

  Zach held his arms out, palms facing the fence, and twisted to let his hands sweep around in front of him to take in the entire backyard. He lowered his hands and turned toward me.

  “There are no bodies out here now.”

  I pointed toward the back fence. “It was buried over there. You can see the disturbed snow and dirt.”

  He nodded and walked out there. He stared at the ground. He hunched his shoulders as if a chill went through him. How could it not? The temperature had to be in the single digits. He kicked at the dirt and snow then returned to the relative warmth of the house. The heater kicked on as he closed the door.

  “How did anyone even find a body out there?”

  I didn’t want to mention Walter, so I just shrugged. “You aren’t the only necromancer in town.”

  “Yeah, but why would anyone be looking in my backyard? Why would anyone come to my house?”

  “You took Miranda Hammond’s heart. That’s why I came out here.”

  “I’m sorry, I did what?”

  “Took her heart.”

  “You said that earlier—check on the heart or something—but that doesn’t make a lick of sense. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “She hired me to get her heart back...so I did.”

  “She hired you?” He blinked a few times. “She...When was this?”

  “Last Tuesday.”

  His breathing increased and his eyes darted around; then his gaze finally settled on me. “What are you playing at, Mr. Shade?”

  “She said you took her heart. We found her heart in your basement. We put it back.”

  “Other necromancers,” he said.

  “Say what?”

  He shook his head. “Get out of my house, Mr. Shade. We’re through talking.”

  That’s when it hit me.

  “Wait a second. You thought you killed her.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think maybe we should call the police now,” I said. “Maybe it’s time for you to be arrested for murder.”

  “You said she hired you so she’s alive. That proves I didn’t kill her.”

  “Fine. Attempted murder, then. That’s still a crime. Ready for some jail time?”

  The five-second rule kicked in as I noticed him trying to summon up some magic. I punched him in the nose again, and he staggered back and grabbed his face. Blood seeped between his fingers.

  “Damn it!” he said.

  “Not sure what you thought you’d do to me,” I
said. “Yank my heart out like you did with Miranda?”

  “I think you broke my nose,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “I need another paper towel.” He moved into the kitchen.

  I flexed my hand a few times. That last punch really hurt. I pulled out my phone to call O’Malley.

  Zach moved as if to go for the cabinet for the towels, but instead he grabbed the spray hose from the kitchen sink, cranked on the water, and sprayed me in the face. The distraction was just enough for him to race past me to get out the back door. I wiped water from my face and saw him vault over the back fence.

  “Is that how you want to play it?” I said. I followed him outside and hopped over the fence myself. The wind on my wet skin felt like someone threw battery acid on my cheeks. I caught a glimpse of Zach darting around the side of the house behind his. Unfortunately by the time I got around the side and through the gate, he was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I wasted a few minutes searching the street, but the cold was too much. My jacket and shirt iced up and my face burned. I gave up and went back to Zach’s place.

  This threw a new wrinkle into things. Zach was alive. So whose body had we found? What had Zach been doing for the past week? Was this a by-product of all the dead people rising or was the whole lovesick Persephone thing a separate issue?

  I considered everything. As near as I could tell, the dead folks were already slowly rising before Zach tried to kill Miranda. Scratch that. Before he did kill Miranda. But if he wasn’t the one keeping her mobile, who was? It was certainly possible that Persephone’s magic had raised Miranda.

  A connection occurred to me. While it wasn’t the first time it had crossed my mind, it was the first time I chose to really look at it. My ex-girlfriend Naomi was in the Underworld. Persephone would know that Naomi and I were an item and could no doubt learn that Naomi knew Miranda, which made me think of the way a powerful sorcerer could possess someone. It made sense to me that Persephone could have learned to do that. After all, she’d been living in the Underworld for thousands of years.

  If she wanted to be close to me to get to Sharon, it made sense that she could easily possess Miranda, which would explain why Miranda was up and about without her heart. It might also explain the dead folks attacking especially while Miranda was around or knew where I was going to be. Perhaps Persephone thought that the dead people would be a big enough problem for me to call Sharon.