A Cold Tomorrow

by Mae Clair

  “Flynn. From the sheriff’s department.”

  “Oh, yes.” Evening looked thoughtful. “Did Sergeant Flynn explain the entire situation?”

  “Thoroughly.” She’d been shocked to hear it, more to learn of Lyle’s claim of encountering the Mothman in the past. In all the time they’d been together, he’d never mentioned anything to her. Knowing her ex, he’d probably invented the tale, hoping to ride a gravy train as far as it would take him. That mentality was in line with the Lyle she knew. “I haven’t seen him, Mr. Evening.”

  “Lach.” He inclined his head cordially. “Please.”

  She ignored the solicitude. “Ryan told you about the van outside of my house?”

  “He did.”

  “That’s all I know.”

  “Very well.” He withdrew from the booth, then stood at her side. “If you do encounter Mr. Mason, please contact me the moment you see him. It’s imperative I take him back to my facility in Pennsylvania in order to restore his mind. I plan to stay at the hotel for however long is necessary.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or bothered by his dedication. He bid her good day, then left through the front entrance, holding the door for Sarah as she hurried inside. Katie’s friend beamed her gratitude with a fetching smile, but Lach merely nodded politely and continued on his way. Sarah hurried to the booth and peeled off her coat. She scooted in across from Katie.

  “Be still my heart. He held the door for me.”

  Any man with manners would do the same.

  “Lach Evening?” Katie had no idea her friend was so infatuated.

  “Who else? I’ve been trying to find an excuse to talk to him.”

  How ironic considering Katie wanted nothing of the sort. “Tell him you’ve seen Lyle, and you won’t be able to get rid of him.”

  “Your ex?” Sarah set her purse aside. “What does he have to do with anything?”

  Katie gave her the run down on Lyle, Evening, and the facility Evening supposedly worked for.

  “So our distinguished gentleman is some kind of head doctor?” Sarah waved for Nancy, calling out an order for a Coke. “Freaky that he does hypnosis, but consider me under his spell.” She wriggled her eyebrows. “Even if he does dress like one of those weird Men in Black, it looks good on him.”

  Katie sipped soda through a straw. “I think he’s one of them.”

  “He can question me any time he wants. Hey—speaking of questions—did you hear about Suzanne Preech?”

  “What about her?” Katie tried to keep pace with the swift change.

  “I heard from Jenny at the drugstore she’s pregnant.”

  Katie thought back to the night Suzanne had shown up at the hotel looking for Shawn and the words he’d slurred when she’d walked into the café: Look who it is. My lovely wife. And mother-to-be. “I thought she might be. Shawn blurted something when he was in here the other night.”

  “I don’t think she’s happy about it.”

  Nancy arrived with Sarah’s soda and asked if they were ready to order. They both settled on grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup.

  “Suzanne asked me to dig up some old records on Shawn’s family,” Sarah explained after Nancy had left.

  Aside from working in the records division at the courthouse, Sarah counted genealogy among her hobbies.

  “Well, Shawn’s always bragged his ancestors go back to the time of Fort Randolph.” Katie had no such illustrious forebears. As far as she knew, her grandmother had been the first of her family to arrive in Point Pleasant, brought by her husband when she was a young bride of sixteen. By contrast, Shawn claimed his forebears were original settlers, descended through Obadiah Preech, who’d been stationed at the Revolutionary War fort. Maybe Suzanne wanted to determine if Obadiah was real.

  “Are you going to help her?”

  Sarah nodded. “You know how I like digging around in old documents. Besides, it will be interesting to discover if Shawn’s bragging about his ancestry is true. He’s not a bad guy, but he likes to ride the celebrity wave.”

  Dirt track racing.

  Maybe Suzanne was unhappy because she worried something might happen to Shawn before the baby was born. Katie knew from experience how hard it was to raise a child on your own. Thank heavens she’d had help from her mom.

  They finished lunch by discussing everything from the cute bow pump shoes Sarah had recently bought, to favorite TV shows like Dallas and Simon and Simon, to the opening of the new Epcot center in Orlando, Florida. Anything and everything but the Mothman. Katie was tired of thinking about the creature, and apparently, Sarah was too. In the good news department, Jerome had been released from the hospital and was resting at home. Katie made a mental note to visit him.

  After work, she swung by the grocery store for a few boxed goods and some toiletries. She’d barely gotten home and deposited the groceries on the counter when someone banged on the front door.

  “Just a minute.” After dropping her purse on the table, she retraced her steps through the living room, then halted with her hand on the doorknob. There were so many strange people lurking around Point Pleasant lately, and according to Lach Evening, Lyle might be stalking her.

  “Katie.” It was him.

  Another thud on the door as if he’d rolled up his fist and was battering it against the wood. How dare he try to threaten or frighten her? If he was the creep who’d been parked on the street, she’d put an end to his spying right now. She wouldn’t subject Sam to potential tirades from a man who’d disowned him before he’d been born.

  Furious, she wrenched open the door. “What do you want?”

  Lyle stood on the stoop, looking momentarily confused. He blinked rapidly, then shoved past her, forcing his way inside. “Is he here? I want to know where he’s hiding.”

  “Who?” She whirled to confront him, anger rising like a vice around her neck. He had no right to invade her home. “If you’re talking about Sam—”

  “Your kid?” Lyle shook his head as if trying to clear a fog. He hadn’t changed much over the last twelve months, still lean and rugged looking with shoulder-length brown hair and a mustache. He’d always been a little stoop-shouldered, his gait like a flat-footed bird when he walked. “I’m looking for Flynn. I heard you’re with him.”

  Ryan? Had he lost his head? “What are you talking about?”

  “I want to settle things once and for all.” He gripped her arm above the elbow, pressing hard. “Tell me where he is.”

  A sliver of fear twined with the anger in her blood. He’d never raised a hand against her, but he’d done his share of cussing and tossing verbal threats. “It’s none of your business who I see.”

  Lyle barked with laughter. “You think I care who crawls between the sheets with you? Hell, woman, I don’t give a flying fuck. But that bastard is going to pay for what he did.”

  He wasn’t making sense. Lach Evening said his mind was messed up, and these insane ramblings were proof. “Look, Lyle, you need to leave.” She tried to pull away, but he held fast. “There’s a man in town who’s looking for you. You need to talk to Lach Evening.”

  He recoiled as if she’d said something repugnant. Tromping backward, he ripped a hand through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Flynn took her from me. Nothing to change that.” He mumbled the words, a flurry of nonsense tumbling out in an eerily repetitive string. “Told her he was no good…out of her league…should have listened to me…not going anywhere…took her from me…”

  Gooseflesh pimpled her arms.

  Katie backed toward the door. Lyle babbled, pacing off tighter and tighter circles. Another few inches and she would be free. She’d left her car keys on the table with her purse, but she was a fast runner. Had always been faster than him.

  Spurred by a burst of panic, she sprinted through the front door and onto the lawn. Never slowing to see if he followed, she raced for the street. She’d reached the end of
her driveway when she spied a battered white T-bird across the road. In the second it took for her to register the vehicle, Lyle caught her. Grasping her firmly on the arm, he wrenched her around to face him.

  “Don’t think this is over.” He shook her hard, his gaze feverish in the glare of the sun. “Tell your boyfriend I’m going to even the score. Tell him he shouldn’t have treated her like he did.”

  Fear bubbled up in her throat. “Lyle—”

  Grunting something unintelligible, he shoved her to the ground.

  She scrambled to her hands and knees, ignoring the sting in her palms. “Lyle!”

  Ignoring her, he bolted for the T-bird. Seconds later, the battered car disappeared down the street, its exhaust coughing black smoke.

  A Thunderbird, not a van. He wasn’t the one who’d been staking out her house, but he was after Ryan. She raced inside for the phone, never bothering to close the door. Quickly, she dialed the sheriff’s office.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Lynch,” the deputy who answered told her. “Sergeant Flynn is out right now.”

  Her stomach plummeted. “What about Caden?”

  “He’s out too. Do you want me to have Ryan call you when he gets back?”

  “Yes, please.” She clutched the phone cord tightly in her hand, trying to still the erratic beat of her heart. “Tell him it’s urgent.”

  “I’ll radio him for you.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  After hanging up, she tented both hands over her mouth and counted to ten, breathing deeply. He would call soon. He had to call.

  “Excuse me.” A man said behind her.

  She whirled to find Lach Evening standing in the open doorway.

  “Forgive me for intruding, but I noticed the door was open.”

  “Why are you here?” The question came out far blunter than she’d intended. Her nerves were shot and her heart danced a chaotic rhythm. The man annoyed her, too proper and calm, as if he’d simply been out for an afternoon stroll.

  “I was hoping to learn more about Lyle.”

  “Such as he’s driving a white Thunderbird and left here under five minutes ago?” Her voice dripped acid as she strode toward him, hands on her hips.

  Evening appeared taken aback. “Did you get a license plate number?”

  “No, I didn’t.” She practically screamed in his face. “He was out of control, talking like a mad man.”

  “I’m sorry. He came to hurt you.”

  “No. You have it all wrong.” She shook her head empathically, exasperated the man who’d caused Lyle’s meltdown was clueless as to his real intent. “He wasn’t looking for me. He’s after Ryan.”

  “Sergeant Flynn?” Evening’s brows pinched together. “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t, either, but he seems to think Ryan did something to him. He kept talking about a girl.” She wet her lips, her mind doing cartwheels as she sorted the possibilities. “Maybe someone Ryan dated in the past.” While she doubted Lyle posed any true threat to an experienced lawman like Ryan, she couldn’t help worrying her ex was capable of doing something crazy. All it took was a moment of surprise with a gun or a knife to tip the balance in Lyle’s favor.

  “Very well, Ms. Lynch. I’m sorry if the situation has distressed you in any way.” Evening stepped onto the front porch.

  “Distressed me?” She followed and watched as he walked down the driveway to a sleek black car. “You need to find Lyle and fix whatever you did to him.” She jabbed a finger at his back. “Whether it’s me or someone else, Lyle was acting crazy.”

  “I’m well aware of that. Good day, Ms. Lynch.” Evening ducked into the car and closed the door.

  Flabbergasted, she watched the vehicle back out of the drive and wind down the road. Her frustration melted into relief when the phone rang. Praying it was Ryan, she raced into the house.

  * * * *

  “Katie, I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Ryan listened as his new girlfriend spilled a confusing tale about Lyle Mason over the phone. “I barely even bumped elbows with the guy before he left town.”

  He turned his back on a squabble happening behind him. After three days of Mothman terror, sightings had started to dwindle. But that didn’t stop residents from inundating the sheriff’s office, demanding to know what steps were being taken to assure the winged cryptid didn’t return. At present, Wayne Rosling was getting an earful from a thick-waisted man waving a map of the TNT under his nose.

  Ryan clamped a hand over his ear to block the noise. “Are you sure Mason is gone?” Despite the sheriff’s office and local Point Pleasant police being on the lookout for Mason’s van, nothing had surfaced. Not surprising, given he’d just learned Mason was driving a T-bird. Nothing like a false trail to stall in a dead end. Worse, it meant someone else had been staking out Katie’s house. Maybe Jerome had spilled his guts to the mysterious Deputy Brown while under hypnosis and relayed how he’d passed along Parker’s coded message. The jumble of numbers seemed to be the brass ring everyone wanted. “I think you should go stay with your mom for a few days.”

  Several seconds of tense silence passed before she unloaded her frustration. “I am not going to let that creep force me out of my house.”

  “Listen, Katie, it isn’t just Lyle I’m worried about. If he showed up in a T-bird, it means someone else was in the van. They could be connected to Parker and Jerome. We don’t know who we’re dealing with, or what measures they might take to get the message.”

  A pause. “I’ve considered that.” Grudging acknowledgement indicated a step in the right direction.

  “I’m glad you’re thinking clearly. The van aside, Lyle is a loose cannon. Now that we know he’s in town for sure, he’ll probably hook up with his cousin. I’ll check with Darrell and see what I can find out.”

  “Aren’t you the least bit concerned Lyle threatened you?” Katie’s voice rose in disbelief. “There must have been someone you dated in the past who—”

  “Katie.”

  “I don’t care who you saw before me.” Her words came quickly now. “I don’t want him blindsiding you. If you’d seen him, heard him… I can see why Lach Evening said he’s messed up in the head. He came here looking for you because he heard we’re together.”

  “Which is why he could return again.” Ryan clenched his jaw, frustrated by his limitations. “Stay with your mom for a few days, Katie. I’m sure Sam misses you too. You can keep an eye on them.” He didn’t add in the event Lyle decided to snoop around Doreen Sue’s place, but it was a fair possibility. He’d see what he could do about sending a patrol that way.

  After a few more minutes of coercion, she finally agreed, and he hung up the phone. Ryan blew out a breath. The man who’d been complaining to Rosling had left, but the older deputy looked no less harried for the grumbler’s departure. Standing, he shook his head and randomly stacked files on his desk.

  “What was that all about?” Ryan pushed from his chair and walked closer.

  “Ready for this one?” Rosling picked up several loose sheets of paper and added them to the stack. “The guy drove here overnight from some place in Delaware because he’d heard the Mothman was back. Spent all day in the TNT but didn’t catch so much as a glimmer of that winged freak. He complained because he thinks we scared it away. While most everyone in the county is telling us to get rid of the thing, this idiot is ticked because we might have done the job.”

  “Sounds like he’d be a good match for Duncan and Donnie.” Ryan grinned.” Hey, I’m headed out. I’m going to go pay Darrell Mason a visit. Looks like Lyle finally surfaced.” He gave Rosling a rundown of his phone call with Katie. “When Weston gets back, can you bring him up to speed?”

  “Will do.” Rosling gave him a thumbs-up. “Sure beats getting my butt chewed out for keeping the public safe.”

  * * * *

  Ryan caught up with Darrell as he was getting home from work, bu
t the visit turned into a dead end. Darrell insisted he hadn’t heard from his cousin, although he’d had several people tell him they’d seen Lyle around town. A co-worker thought they’d seen him driving an old white T-bird, which supported Katie’s description. And while that helped target Lyle, the information did nothing to narrow down the owner of a dark green van, or why the driver would be stalking Katie. More and more, Ryan found himself thinking of the coded message Jerome passed to her. If there really was some shadow organization intent on recovering the code, Ryan had to find a way of turning that attention from Katie.

  After ending his shift at five, he headed to the Parrish Hotel, hoping to catch Lach Evening. As luck would have it, the impeccably dressed man occupied a rocker on the front porch. Most would have considered it too cold to linger outdoors, but Evening didn’t appear to mind. He wore an overcoat and his black fedora, but the coat was open and he hadn’t bothered with gloves.

  Probably wouldn’t be able to find any to fit.

  Ryan considered offering a “good evening” as he stepped onto the porch but the greeting seemed too much of a pun, and far from true. “I was hoping I’d catch you here.” Turning his back to the street, he braced a hip against the railing. He had no idea how long the man had been sitting there, but his skin showed no signs of reddening due to the brisk weather. He seemed comfortably content, one leg draped over the other, his hands resting on the broad arms of the rocking chair.

  “I gather this isn’t a social visit.” Evening’s gaze remained on the street, the look on his face like a cat intently waiting for a mouse to appear.

  A ragged scarecrow slouched in the chair beside him, a Halloween caricature out of place beside Evening’s crisp attire. Or maybe it was the other way around. Sitting among cornstalks and pumpkins, the man in black might have easily passed for a fairy-tale king.

  “Katie told me what happened today with Lyle.” Ryan crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I expected as much. Mr. Mason seems to have fixated on you.”

  “I have no idea why.”

  Evening’s lips curled faintly. “Perhaps because of your attachment to his ex. Word has a way of getting around, Sergeant Flynn.” He tapped one bubble-tipped finger against the rocker. “Remember that Lyle is living in the past.”