The Skinwalker Conspiracies - 02

by Jim Bernheimer

  “But De Soto,” I protested.

  “All the King’s horses and all the King’s men,” Virginia repeated a line from the old nursery rhyme. She rose and pulled me along with her back into the house. I followed in a daze.

  “Silas? Karla?” My words like everything else were a whisper. I was slipping away.

  “They’re fine,” she reassured me, leading me back to the bathroom.

  My body. Home. I started to go to it, but Mrs. Poe steered me to the dog instead.

  “You wouldn’t survive,” she says shaking a finger at me like Mom used to do when I was a kid. “Use the animal as a sanctuary and regain your strength.”

  Disoriented and unable to protest, she stuffed me into Lucky. I heard the dog yelp and saw Virginia for a split second through the distorted vision of a beagle before both of us passed out.

  Episode 29: A Pair of Crazy Cellmates

  Eventually, I came around. At first it was only for a minute or two before the pooch went back to sleep. There was a joke about being “doggone” tired in there somewhere, but the beagle decided that hunger was more important than sleep and got up. We were in Karla’s condo - probably violating the rules about having animals. Lucky’s sniffer found a plate of cold wet food next to a bowl of water. It looked like beef stew and neither of us were interested in quibbling about it.

  So we feasted.

  Then we drank.

  Then we looked around, but the place was empty except for the two of us.

  Then we took a whiz on Karla’s kitchen floor. It was better than her expensive carpet.

  Hours passed, maybe it just felt like it because I was in a dog, but eventually, a pair of ghosts entered through the front wall. It was Cassandra and Virginia, who was holding her hand. I tried to recall if she’d been injured during the fight and concluded that she must’ve been hurt at some point. Lucky barked, happy to have someone give him attention and I just wanted to know if everyone was okay.

  “This is a good look for you, Mike,” Cassandra said. “Bark once if you’re ready to get out.”

  Dusting off my doggie operating system, I complied. “Good” she continued. “Your body is at the hospital, I just came from checking on you. You’ve been there for the last thirty-six hours. The doctor’s think you’re in a light coma.”

  Looking around, I barked a couple of times until she got the idea that I was asking about the others.

  Virginia took over. “Karla Thompson is fine. She’s spending the day in the company of her parents. I am afraid to say that Mr. Parker is also at the hospital. He fell down the stairs and injured his hip. Unfortunately, it required surgery. Do you need assistance getting out?”

  I barked once, feeling guilty at needing the help and my friend’s predicament. At least he was still alive.

  Virginia grabbed Lucky’s left paw and helped yank me out. Lucky looked up at me and panted as I stood. It wasn’t easy, but I seemed to be getting the hang of it.

  “Thanks,” I said to Virginia. She seemed to blush slightly.

  “It was nothing,” she said quickly as her expression returned to the usual serene look that usually was there. “I am just pleased to see you.”

  I was slightly bothered by the reply. “Didn’t you already know how it was going to end?”

  “No,” Virginia replied, “You misunderstand my powers. I can see possibilities, a nearly unlimited amount, and I have to focus to make sense of it all, but I can nudge events in a certain direction and let the cards fall where they may. My power is like running with an overflowing pot of water and trying not to spill any. If I try too hard, I only spill more and once spilled, there is no way to undo it. My power is a gift and a curse. Every action we take opens new possibilities as others disappear like they had never existed.”

  “I was supposed to yell at you for what you put Tabitha Lawrence through, but I guess you were doing what you had to do,” I said, hoping the departed spirit would understand if we ever met in whatever comes next.

  “I make mistakes, too often,” Virginia admitted appearing contrite.

  “I can vouch for that. Several times over, in fact,” Cassandra said rejoining the conversation. “Are we ready, Ginny? I was getting bored out in the car. Misty isn’t one of my more patient bodies.”

  Virginia’s repentant look melted into one of annoyance. “And the princess finally receives the crown she’s craved for so long.”

  I could literally feel the long history between the two of them.

  “Couldn’t have done it without you,” Cassandra answered in a sugary-sweet voice.

  “Seriously?” I said, looking at Virginia. “You’re leaving her in charge?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Poe said. “Someone needs to bring order to this area. It might as well be her.”

  “So, it’s the lesser of two evils?” I commented.

  “No,” Virginia answered. “It is more like ‘the devil you know,’ from my perspective. I am also reasonably certain it won’t be as easy as she suspects.”

  “What happened to my father?” I’d already made certain Silas and Karla were okay. With the important people covered, I could spare a moment to ask about his condition.

  Cassandra replied, “I’ve got him cooling his heels south of the border until the fallout from this blows over. To be honest, he’s not really interested in talking with you right now. He gets to act like he’s in charge, but I’m really running the show, unless you’re interested in staying around? I could make it worth your time.”

  The sour look on my face probably conveyed my answer better than my, “No, I don’t think so.”

  She shrugged off my reply, glanced at a picture of Karla on the table with her arms around Darren Porter, and said, “I see. That’s what I figured. Suit yourself. Maybe when you’re older and wiser, Mike.”

  “Typical,” I muttered ignoring her and thinking about the guy with the name on my birth certificate. “He just ran off again.”

  “Don’t take it so hard, Michael,” Virginia interrupted my musings. “Your father was content being a kept man. His anger at you is really just a reflection of the fact that he will now have to take responsibility for his life. Sometimes the child must be the parent.”

  Cassandra laughed. “At least I know where you get your anger issues from. Pity he doesn’t have anything near your talent, but I’ll get what I can out of him.”

  Strangely enough, the thought of Cassandra constantly on his ass about things made me smile. They deserved each other.

  Concluding that standing here was wasting time, I said, “Okay, I want to go get my body back.”

  “It’s time for me to go as well,” Virginia announced.

  “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

  Virginia nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. I need to be somewhere else and doing something else. Don’t be surprised if someone else is here when you return from the hospital in two days. Until we meet again, farewell.”

  “Her leaving isn’t what should worry you, Mike,” Cassandra said, her giddy sarcasm cast aside and some very deep-seated anger showing through. “What should is knowing that one day she’ll come back.”

  Virginia scowled and actually looked hurt before she vanished.

  “Was that really necessary?” I asked.

  Cassandra also turned away and started for the driveway. I couldn’t see her face, but I heard her words. “One of these days, if I ever feel like talking about it Mike, remind me to tell you how I died. C’mon let’s go.”

  There were plenty of things to feel bad about, Silas getting hurt, a bunch of dead dogs, the ruined house a vacationing family returned to, and through all that, I couldn’t spare much sympathy for either Virginia or Cassandra. Virginia Poe did meddle in people’s lives. Maybe she had good reasons, but that didn’t make everything right. Cassandra? She played with real human beings like they were Barbie dolls. Even as I floated to her convertible Porsche, she was primping herself using the rearview mirror inside the body of that dancer I’
d met in Amarillo, Misty, and looking pleased with the result.

  “What happened to Isabella?”

  “Oh, she ran off and it’s not worth my time to track her down right now. Damn girl annoyed the hell out of me anyway. Misty’s days on the pole are over for the time being and it’s time to let others go get information and broker the little deals for a change. What about you, Mike? Going back to college in Maryland? I spoke with your mom on the phone and let her know that you’re going to be okay.”

  “Have to wait and see when Silas is ready to travel,” I answered.

  “I can put him on a plane when he’s healed and I’d be willing to foot the bill so he can go to a decent place for rehab and not some hole in the wall,” she offered.

  “That’s very nice of you,” I said wondering where her sudden burst of compassion was coming from. First my mom and now this?

  “As for you, how’s five grand a month sound?”

  “Huh?” Oh, now it made sense! She gave with one hand and tried to take with the other. It was classic bait and switch.

  “I’d like to put you on a retainer. De Soto eliminated just about all the competition here and ran this place with an iron fist. He’s gone, scattered to the winds, and somebody else might try muscle in. I suspect that with proper guidance, your father will be able to handle most any situation, but occasions might arise where I need someone much more capable.”

  “Why do you think I’d want to work for you? You did try to kill me, in case you’ve forgotten.” She’d moved onto flattery. The whole thing sounded like the gangster arrangement in Atlantic City.

  “I haven’t and you don’t.” She pulled out of the driveway and recklessly accelerated. Despite currently not being in my body, I was still alarmed. Keeping people off balance was one of her negotiating techniques. “But I saw the way you were looking at the red headed scream queen, and I think she might be interested as well.”

  “Go on,” I said, trying to keep a poker face. I did like Karla, but I’d been burned recently and didn’t want to pin my hopes on her until we had a chance to talk.

  “Your problem is that you lack the reason to keep coming back and the means as well. I can give you both. Plane flights, dinners and the like cost money you just don’t have. Her parents are filthy rich and, as I recall, you weren’t even comfortable around Heather’s family and they were barely middle class.”

  “I’ve changed since then.” I noted how she said ‘middle class’ like it was a dirty word.

  She nodded and continued. “True. You’re more practical. That’s why you’re going to take the offer.”

  “You really think so?” De Soto ran all kinds of rackets. Sixty large was chump change. “Not if you’re going to low ball me like that.”

  “See,” she commented with a smug look on her face as her Porsche nearly collided with a van. “You’re smart enough to not jump on the first offer and Thompson’s parents probably pay their landscaper sixty a year. How about ten?”

  “Better,” I said, “But you should go higher.”

  “I could, but I won’t, Mike.”

  “And why not?”

  She reached over where my chin was and touched it while saying, “Too much money makes Mike fat and lazy. Do you ever see what happens to people that hit the lottery? Even the ones who don’t get possessed by Skinwalkers wanting to indulge in lifestyles of the filthy rich and filthy minded have problems coping with suddenly being wealthy.”

  “So you’re doing me a favor, Cassandra? It gets me right here.” I tapped where my heart would be.

  “It’s only because I care, Mike,” she answered and laughed at the ridiculousness of her statement. “Besides, any more than ten and I want you down here full time. If you want to put that on the table, we can talk more?”

  “Ten it is then.” I wondered which of us would be regretting this arrangement someday, probably both.

  “Good. Now, the walker working for Travis has already run most of the interference you need in case the locals want to question you, but if they do, I’m going to tell you what you need to say.”

  I listened to the cover story with some amusement. Not wanting to violate the rules she was currently violating about pets in her complex, Karla took Silas, me, and our pet beagle to the place she was pet sitting. Some kind of gas pocket trapped below the ground exploded damaging a portion of the house and just so happened to kill my estranged father’s bodyguard as he arrived to visit us with a piece of rock that left a wound not unlike a twelve gauge solid slug. A friend of the family, Officer McKinney from San Antonio, was in town and hustled my dear old dad away in case there were more explosions. People who thought they saw the officer shoot a man were sadly mistaken and more concerned about the neighborhood being evacuated at the time to say much else.

  There was a feeling that if I watched the news more often, I’d see more of these bizarre stories that made little sense. Another thing I’d have to get used to.

  “I finally come back to Arizona and the bad guy still walks away! This time I even helped,” the Skinwalker known as Will McLaury growled shortly after the doctor who finished examining me left.

  Considering he was talking about my dad, I should be offended, but the thought of dear old Pappy sipping margaritas in Cabo San Somewhere Nice while we cleaned up the mess galled me to no end as well.

  “Yeah that stinks. You know what’s worse, I really hate hospitals,” I answered with my own personal disappointment. Virginia’s prediction that I’d be held for observation was right on target and I had a new entry in my medical records concerning a possible coma.

  Maybe Cassandra’s little job offer wasn’t so bad. Anyone who took a gander at my health records would be convinced I was certifiable, and I wasn’t certain they’d be wrong.

  “Can’t say I ever liked ‘em much myself,” San Antonio’s finest mentioned. “You’re square with the locals. They’ve already moved on to something more interesting than a guy hooking up with a girl at the place she’s supposed to be watching.”

  “Thanks for the assist,” I said. “How long are you in town for?”

  “I’ll hang around until they release you. Then I thought I’d go back to San Antonio by way of Tombstone and pay my respects to Tom and Frank’s graves.”

  “Don’t go looking for trouble,” I said. “Joe’s got a nice family.”

  “I won’t,” he answered. “I consider them mine as well. From what I hear, all the tourists in Tombstone drove most everyone out of there a long time ago. The few left are old timers. They like to have fun with the visitors looking for a thrill. Look me up on your way back east and I’ll put your skills to use. So, want to go visit your preacher friend?”

  “Sure,” I answered and started to swing my legs off the bed. “I need to stretch anyway.”

  Will held up a hand and said, “That’d just bring your doctor running. Give me a minute and I’ll get a chair.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  He wasn’t.

  Man, I really hated hospitals!

  Silas looked frail and broken as I wheeled into his room. A few months with me appeared to have aged him years and that knowledge stung. If I mentioned it, he’d protest and say I’d done all I could. That only meant that I needed to do better by him.

  “Hello, Michael,” he said. Since the only thing he could see was me and the Skinwalker in the doorway, I probably stood out like a sore thumb.

  Nodding a thanks and an “I got it from here look” to Joe, I moved over to the bed with a couple of phantom images that I’d pulled from the Bible in my room and some magazines laying around and passed them to him.

  “Just don’t let the staff catch you reading thin air,” I whispered. “They’ll try to take pictures of your brain like they’re doing with me.”

  “I’ll try to keep it hidden,” he said.

  “How are you feeling? You look good.”

  “I’m sore, but I’ve been worse. They had this little machine thing strapped to
my leg to massage my calf and prevent blood clots, but the doctors took it off yesterday. They’re making me go easy on the pain meds because of my age, but with the good grace of our Lord, I shall rise and walk again. I think the more important question is how are you, Michael?”

  The million dollar question and I tried to be truthful with him. “Physically, I’m pretty good … a little sore from being in bed, I guess. Other than that, I guess I’m just drained.”

  “Can’t take care of anyone else, if you won’t take care of yourself.”

  My retort could’ve been the one about the pot calling the kettle black, but we were a pair of hypocrites and knew it, so I just let it go.