by Ann Charles
“Rosy, the woman who bought your house.”
“What were ya doin’ out to lunch with her?” Harvey combed his beard. “Was she videotapin’ you eatin’?”
“Why would she record me eating?”
“They tape people eatin’ all the time on those reality shows.”
“We were at The Golden Sluice because she’d wanted to show me all she’d done to Cooper’s place and then take me out for a celebratory lunch for helping her buy it. She really girlie’d up your place,” I told Cooper, and then looked over at Harvey. “You’d like it, dirty bird. She still has that print with the black iris on it over her fireplace.”
A grin filled Harvey’s cheeks. “I might have to get me one of those prints when I get my own place and hang it over my bed.”
“Back to Prudence entering the bar,” Doc said. “How was it she ended up visiting you there instead of you going to Zelda’s house?”
As we headed out of town, I told them about the phone call I’d received from Zelda, insisting that I drop everything and come to her house to see Prudence at once. Then I described how Zelda had been there in the bar, but yet she wasn’t really Zelda; how Prudence had manipulated Rosy without even moving a hand; and then all of the stuff we’d talked about in between. Well, the bits of conversation I could remember, anyway. I ended with how Rosy smelled blood and then remembered that she’d been choking on it while she was under Prudence’s spell.
By the time I’d finished, we were almost to the turnoff leading to Harvey’s ranch, aka the road to Slagton.
“How long ya reckon Prudence has been able to fly her coop?” Harvey asked.
“She might have always been able to leave the house, but chose not to,” Doc said. “Prudence has told Violet repeatedly that Zelda is a remarkable channeller for her. My guess is she hitched a ride down to the bar and then took over once inside the door.”
“But how did she know about what has been going on in Slagton the last few days?” Cooper asked. “Was she reading Parker’s mind?”
Harvey squinted at me. “Did she do anything funny to ya? Like reach inside of yer chest again?”
“No. She grabbed my wrist and slapped me in the face, but that was it.”
“She slapped you again?” Doc frowned.
I nodded. “I think she’s jealous.”
“Of what?” Cooper asked.
“That I’m breathing and she’s not.”
“So she takes it out on you?”
“Every chance she can.”
“That,” Doc said. “Or she was very aggressive when alive.”
Harvey hooted. “I’ll bet that ol’ girl was roadhouse rowdy and mean enough to bite through horseshoes back in her day.”
“She’s mean enough to do that now,” I grumbled.
“She does tend to leave a mark on ya that won’t rub off.”
“So does Parker,” Cooper said, hitting me with a squint in the mirror.
Doc chuckled. “Like I mentioned before, I don’t think Prudence can get into Violet’s head. If she could, she would’ve already, but she continually uses other people to communicate with Violet.”
I thanked my lucky stars for that! If Prudence got into my head, she’d probably smack my subconscious around, too, the bully.
“Do you think Dominick Masterson contacted her?” Cooper asked Doc. “He’s the only outsider who knows what Parker has been up to in Slagton.”
“No,” I answered first. “Prudence is not a fan of Dominick’s. She’s spoken negatively about guardians twice now.” I frowned out my window at the snow-sprinkled pine trees. “Whatever a guardian is.”
“Maybe she has some non-human contacts, same as Dominick,” Cooper suggested.
“That could be,” Doc said.
I pondered that possibility for a moment and then moved onto Slagton. The pickup was silent all around. I don’t know what they were thinking, but I was wondering what in the hell we would run into back here today and worried that it would be dark before we could escape.
“How was Spearfish?” I asked Doc, wanting to get my mind on to lighter subjects.
He nailed me with one of his smoldering stares. “Lonely without you, Tish.”
Cooper groaned. “Don’t start that lovey-dovey shit when I’m trying to get my mind wrapped around what we’re heading into back here, or I might end up not-so-accidentally shooting both of you before the day is out.”
“Why the big hurry to do this today?” I asked him. “Couldn’t we wait until tomorrow morning?”
“You don’t wait around when dealing with a missing person, Parker.” He spoke to me as if I was one of his rookies on the force. “If you don’t act immediately, the window closes and you’re back to square one. Or worse.”
“Lesson learned, Detective,” I said.
“Also,” he said in a less bossy voice, “I have to do a twelve-hour shift starting tonight at seven, and I might need to shower before heading in. Going to Slagton with you tends to get me coated in shit.”
“Didn’t you just work a twelve-hour shift?”
“I’ve worked several since the day after Natalie’s birthday party. Until Christmas is over, this is the norm.”
“All work and no play makes Cooper a snarly wolf,” Harvey said.
Outside, the Slagton town sign came and went. The mood inside the pickup cab grew heavy with tension, silence reigning. I watched out my window as we eased into the rusty old town, creeping along between the rundown shacks and dark shadows.
As we passed the informant’s place, I noticed the body of that weird creature was gone. No hide, no blue guts, nothing to show that it had been there just two days ago. I wondered if the head was still inside on the freezer.
“The thing hanging from the porch is missing,” I said.
“Yep,” Harvey said.
“Aren’t we stopping here?” I asked as Cooper rolled by the driveway and kept going.
“Not today,” Cooper said.
“The messenger gave him instructions,” Harvey told me.
The sun disappeared behind a cloud as the snow tires crunched along on the slush and gravel road. I stared into the shadows under the trees, looking for any signs of the chimeras or their leader, not that I had a clue what the leader would look like. My heart pitter-pattered as a chunk of snow fell from high up in a tree, the branches below bobbing from the blow.
We slowed to a creep in front of the two-story, boarded-up company store.
“You’re stopping here?” I asked.
“No,” Cooper said. “I saw something in the upstairs window.”
“I saw it, too,” Doc said, leaning over so he could peer out the driver’s side window. “But it was more of a moving shadow.”
I hadn’t seen anything, nor did I want to. That building gave me the willies, especially with the warning about being gutted spray-painted on the front. I slinked down in my seat, willing Cooper to hurry up and hit the damned gas so we could hook up with whoever called, find out about his informant, and then get the hell out of Dodge.
After one last look, Cooper moved along.
I ran through several nail-biting what-ifs until he stopped in front of that woodshed with the old bullet hole–filled 1941 Plymouth Fastback behind it.
Please let him be pausing to give his gas foot a break.
He shut off the pickup.
Damn it. I grimaced out the window at the eerie woodshed that I knew from a previous glance was filled with lumberman’s tools—handsaws, sharp hooks, and a long bench with a table saw sticking out of one end.
“Shouldn’t you turn the pickup around?” I asked. “You know, have our getaway vehicle ready to bust ass out of here?”
“You’ve seen too many movies,” Cooper said.
“What if we get stuck turning around?”
Harvey smirked. “I got a shit-ton of weight in the back end, brand-new snow tires, and four-wheel drive. Short of drivin’ into a mud-filled gulch, we ain’t gonna get stuck.”
Doc looked at Cooper. “Did you bring anything for Violet’s protection?”
“Yeah, I brought you,” Cooper said. “And my gun.”
“I couldn’t find yer war hammer,” Harvey said. “But I got my crowbar under the seat, snuggled up next to Bessie.”
The crowbar again. I frowned down at my hands, crossing my fingers I didn’t need to use it this trip, especially since I was supposed to try to catch one of those things. “Do you still have those illegal traps in your barn?” I asked Harvey.
“Nah. Coop’s buddies confiscated ‘em, which pisses me off because those belonged to my grandpappy. They were family heirlooms.”
“I told you that I’m working on getting them back for you,” Cooper said.
How did I go about catching instead of killing? Would traps even work? Or were these creatures too smart for those?
“What’s the plan?” Doc asked Cooper.
“There’s supposed to be a message for me in the old Plymouth. Since there are potentially five more of those things out there waiting for us, we hightail it back into this pickup as soon as I find the message.”
“Who’s leading?” I asked.
Cooper looked around at me. “I am. Parker brings up the rear.”
I’m in the rear? “Don’t you think I should lead?”
“No, you’ll have a clearer view of anything coming at us from the back of the line.”
“You need to change yer duds,” Harvey said, handing me a plastic bag. Inside it was a pair of my black jeans, a sweatshirt, socks, my purple boots, and a pair of pink underwear.
“What did you bring my underwear for?” I asked him.
He dug around for them in the bag and held them up in front of Doc. “I thought yer stallion might wanna pocket ‘em fer good luck.”
I snatched them from his hand and stuffed them in my coat pocket.
Doc chuckled. “They’re certainly more fun than a rabbit’s foot.”
Cooper scowled at me in the rearview mirror. “Hurry up and get your clothes on, Parker. The longer we sit here, the better the chance something might see us and come shooting first and asking questions later.”
“Fine, but you all need to close your eyes, because I’m not getting dressed out there in the cold.”
Doc refused to obey, watching me struggle to change in a tight spot, his grin flirty. To his credit, he helped me pull my arm free of my coat and folded my wool skirt and sweater so I could stuff them in the bag. I kept my cashmere leggings on under my jeans, using them as long underwear.
That left my feet. I held up my purple boots, frowning across the seat. “Harvey, why didn’t you bring my other boots? These cowboy boots aren’t any good in the snow. I’ll be slipping and sliding like a baby deer on the ice.”
“I couldn’t find yer others and Coop was in a big hurry, so I grabbed what was near the door.”
Thankfully, I’d semi-recently taken my purple boots to have the leather cleaned and coated with water and stain repellent for the winter, but tromping through ankle-deep snow was pushing it. I frowned down at my suede half-boots, which would be completely ruined if they got wet, not to mention even less helpful in the snow.
Minutes later, I had my cowboy boots on and pea coat buttoned, along with the stocking cap and gloves Harvey had grabbed for me.
“You missed a button,” Doc said.
“No, Elvis stole that one.” Damned chicken. “Let’s do this,” I said, and opened my door. I extracted the crowbar I’d used before from under the seat.
The four of us gathered in front of the pickup. The sun was back reflecting off the snow, blinding me. The air seemed too still, the silence cottony. A rustling in a nearby pine made me turn. More snow had fallen victim to the sun’s warm rays and gravity’s pull. The pine tree branches bounced back into place, causing the white stuff to sprinkle to the ground, sparkling as it fell.
It was a beautiful wintry day in the Black Hills, the air fresh, the sky blue. I frowned, glancing back at Harvey’s pickup. Why did I want to climb back into the cab and hide under the seat? I shook off my unease, focusing on the task at hand. All we had to do was trudge through the snow to that old car and back. How hard could that be?
Cooper held out a handgun to Doc. “It’s loaded and ready.”
Harvey rested Bessie on his shoulder. “Try not to aim at my backside,” he said to Doc.
“Maybe you need to be carrying some pink underwear,” Doc joked.
I held up the bar. “It’s not fair that you three get guns and all I get is this stupid crowbar.”
Cooper smirked. “You’re the one who always says that guns won’t work on these things. Besides, in those boots, you’d slip while pulling the trigger and shoot one of us.”
“You leave me no choice but to clobber you instead.” I shifted the crowbar from one hand to the other, trying to find the best hold. Neither worked. The gloves were too thick with no leather grippers to stick to the steel.
“You give me another broken nose, Parker, and I’ll leave you back here with your hunting pals.”
Doc put his arm around my shoulder. “I won’t let him leave you, Killer. But try not to hurt Cooper this time.”
“I give no guarantees.”
“You ready?” Cooper asked his uncle.
Harvey guffawed. “I was ready before you were born, boy.”
“Good. You’ll be following me. Don’t fall behind.” Cooper stepped into the unmarred snow, moving cautiously around the side of the woodshed to where the old Plymouth sat in the snow.
“Violet,” Doc said as Harvey followed Cooper, leaving us alone.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t like this. Something isn’t right.”
I felt it, too. But I wasn’t sure if it was only a side effect of being in Slagton. “What do you mean? Are you sensing something?”
“Yes and no. Somebody or something is watching us, but it could be ghosts of Slagton’s past lurking back here. Just stay close, no more than a step behind me.”
“I’d prefer to ride on your back and bury my face in your neck.”
“Even better.” He gave me a quick kiss. “Your lips are cold. How about I carry you up to bed and warm us both up when we get back to your aunt’s place?”
“Deal. We better get moving or Cooper is going to yell at us.”
Doc looked around, scanning the tree line for another breath or two, and then he followed in Cooper’s footprints.
I stepped down off the edge of the road into Doc’s tracks and my boots slid out from under me. I landed on my ass right out of the gate. “Damn it.”
“Are you okay?” Doc asked, holding out a hand to help me up.
“What’re ya doin’ down there?” Harvey asked. The old buzzard stood at the corner of the shed, shielding his eyes as he looked back at us. Cooper was out of sight around the other side.
“Making sure gravity is still working,” I said, taking Doc’s hand.
He brushed the snow off my backside. “You want me to hold onto you?”
Yes, forever would be almost long enough. “I’m good now. That drop was a little steeper than my boots could handle.” I waved toward Harvey. “Let’s go catch Cooper before he starts shooting at us.”
I slipped and slid along behind Doc through the snow. He kept glancing back, making sure I was not laid out flat on my buttinski. Off to my right, I heard more snow plunk down as another pine tree dropped some of its load, but I was too busy navigating each footstep in the slippery path to look around.
As we rounded the corner of the weathered shed, I stopped, bracing myself against the sun-warmed wood so I could stand steady on my feet for a moment. Wearing my cowboy boots in the snow reminded me of my first time ice skating back when I was a kid. I’d had to hold onto the wall all of the way around the rink.
Scharfrichter.
I thought I heard my other name spoken softly next to my ear.
My fingers tingled in the gloves. I looked around for any sig
ns of the chimeras, seeing only glistening snow, dark pine trees, and weathered wood. Sunlight glinted off the round saw blade hanging on the outside of the shed. Shielding my eyes, I sniffed the air, but my nose was too cold to do anything more than drip.
Up ahead, Cooper stood next to the rusty Plymouth full of bullet holes, frowning down into the front seat. Harvey was squinting toward the trees beyond, his head cocked to one side, Bessie half-raised. Had he heard something, too?
Doc looked back at me, holding out his hand. “You coming?”
“Scharfrichter,” I heard again.
This time it was louder, coming through the planks of wood next to me. There was a knothole in the wood about chin level. I bent and peered in the hole. It took a second for my eye to adjust to the darkness after the bright snow. I blinked, squinting.
A yellow eye stared back at me.
I gasped and jerked back, my boots sliding, my arms whirling as I tried to catch my balance. I fell again, landing on my side this time.
Before I could get my bearings, a gunshot boomed from over by the car. I’d heard that blast before. It was Bessie’s call sign.
Scrambling to my feet, I took several sliding steps in the snow.
Another shot rang out, this one higher-pitched. That must be Cooper’s handgun.
To my right, something fell out of the tree. I glanced over to see a black chimera push to its feet and stalk toward the car.
“Shit!”
Before I could take a step, something fell out of another tree, this time up ahead on the other side of the old Plymouth.
Boom! Bessie exploded again.
More of Cooper’s shots rang out.
“Parker!” Cooper yelled. “Get your ass over here!”
I skated and slid toward the car, crowbar flailing as I tried to keep my balance.
All around me, hulking and snarling beasts dropped from out of the pine trees, where they’d been hiding and watching.
Harvey stood at the back fender of the old Plymouth, reloading Bessie as his gaze darted here and there.
I skidded to a stop beside him, holding onto the open driver’s side door. Snow and dead weeds were drifting in behind the steering wheel.
In the thick shadows under the pines, I counted five, six, seven creatures on our side of the Plymouth alone. Shit, I thought there were only supposed to be eight total.