Gator Baitin' (The Grateful Undead series Book 2)

by Susan Stec

  The girls dragged Jake out the door and pulled him into the front yard. Jake argued the whole way.

  We stood on the grass waiting.

  Jake snorted smoke. "I will not be held accountable if something goes wrong." Jake took off his jacket. "Where should I put this? I don't want it to get dirty."

  "Yeah, well, I'd burn that baby," Mom said. "You look like my Uncle Antonio. We buried him in the same suit in nineteen-eighty-three."

  Marcus walked up behind me. "I think you're making a big mistake, darling." His smooth, sexy voice gave me goose bumps.

  "Uh-huh. Wish I had a buck for every time you say that, Fang-boy."

  Marcus frowned then addressed Jake. "Do you think you can handle this?"

  "I don't know. You know they won't let up. Oh, God, what if someone sees me?" Jake slipped out of his shirt and pants, standing in only his shoes, pink socks and white boxers with little cute dragons on them.

  "Can't you go behind a tree and strip?" Mom asked, glaring at the undies.

  "Chick, unlike some people, I don't need to hide my body. And could you please stop grinding your teeth? It makes me nervous and I'm already nervous." Jake slipped out of his shoes and underwear. He lifted his head, opened his mouth, and billowed smoke. When it floated away, our whole front yard was dragon.

  "Ohmygod! I call shotgun!" Resi squee'd, heading for Jake.

  "No one is riding the dragon! Back off from the dragon!" Mom yelled.

  The dragon snorted smoke, pounded its front paws and the ground shook like a level five earthquake.

  When we all reacted…badly, Marcus raised a hand. "Don't try your telekinetic powers, Chick, or your mentalist skills, Resi. If they prove useless it will only distress him more. And Susan, I wouldn't draw up your—"

  "No shit," Mom cut in. "Been there tried that."

  I pulled up my shield.

  The dragon backed up, opened a huge maw lined with big ugly teeth, and shot a flame that ignited all the foliage lining the front of the house.

  "—shield," Marcus finished. "Take it down."

  Four things happened at once.

  I broke the shield. Mom took an immortal leap attempting to dive onto Jake's head and sailed fifty feet across the yard when the dragon whacked her with its tail.

  Zaire ran into the house, returned with the fire extinguisher and covered the bushes by the window with white foam.

  Resi climbed up Marcus' back and wrapped her hands his head.

  Then we all froze.

  The florescent dragon vibrated in front of us, its translucent wings flapping, scales shimmering from purple to pink, to silver, and back to bright purple again. It tossed its angry head, snorting smoke. It was well over thirty-feet from snout to tail, and large, curved, bony looking things stood up on its back from the top of its head to the tip of its tail. Angry, hooded silver eyes challenged us as it pawed the ground. Long orange talons raked the grass, making channels about four inches wide and at least two feet deep.

  "Stop that digging! You're tearing up the front yard, damnit!" Mom shrilled as she scraped herself off the grass.

  The dragon roared, threw its head back and shot black smoke at Mom. Mom sprinted toward us. Zaire dropped the fire extinguisher and bolted for Mom. Both of them stood a few feet in front of the dragon, hugging.

  Marcus cleared his throat then pulled Resi off his head. She stood behind him whimpering as he spoke. "You cannot yell, Chick. Moreover, do not run. Remain calm. Back away slowly."

  The dragon lowered its snout, sniffing at Zaire. Both women froze.

  "And Chick, I wouldn't suck my teeth right now if I were you," Marcus said.

  "Shit, he's a frigging nightmare. Look at him. Tell me that doesn't scare the hell out of ya?" Mom said, holding onto Zaire's arm as the two immortals took two steps backward.

  "Can we talk him down?" I asked.

  "You have to sing to him," Marcus said through an amused smile.

  "I'm not singing to that lizard," Mom said.

  A steamroller of smoke barreled out the dragon's nose in two distinct lines, headed right for Mom. Zaire bolted across the lawn.

  Mom started hitting her ass with both hands; looked like she was playing a kettledrum. She blew short sharp whistles and made a couple of fart noises with her tongue between her lips. "Yo-Bro. Didn't mean to piss you off." More whistling, and a few slaps. "I'll stop sucking from this day forth." Some fart sounds and a few more slaps this time on both cheeks. "Just turn your head the other way." Now she was dancing around, head bobbing like a chicken. "'Cause I wanna live another day."

  Zaire's choice of music was definitely rubbing off on her.

  The dragon's body vibrated, head shaking, wheezing noises came from it. At first, I thought it was going to blow, but it threw its head back and roared, stomping one back foot four or five times. Half the leaves on the oak tree fell to the ground.

  Marcus laughed. "I think he finds your song amusing, Chick."

  "So we're good?" I kept my eyes on Jake.

  "Come on, Susan let me show you how to communicate with the dragon." Marcus pulled me toward it.

  "Ummm, sweetie, I think not. I can't sing," I squeaked out, now nose to nose with a thirty-foot dragon.

  Marcus hit his chest, pointed to the dragon's back and smiled. The dragon shook its head up and down.

  "Oh-what, oh-what the hell was that? I thought we had to sing like a frigging…cat?" I rapped, doing a little gig, slapping a few body parts, making it up as I went along.

  Marcus tucked his lips between his teeth. The dragon was wheezing again.

  Let me set the record straight. Laughing dragon? Not funny.

  The ground rumbled along with it, almost knocking me off my dancing feet. Marcus grabbed me, heading for Jake's tail as the dragon circled it toward us.

  "What? What? Are you crazy as hell? I am not getting on that dragon's tail!" I sang, spanking my ass as I pranced along beside him.

  Mom was giggling. Resi looked pissed. Zaire gawked at Christopher, who was chicken-bobbing his head in time with my stupid rap.

  Gibbie rounded the house, buzzing to an abrupt stop when he saw the dragon. "Oh, shit! You guys are in way too deep this time. Whose brainy idea was this?" he squeaked in an ear pounding screech.

  Zaire launched a dagger tossing gaze in his direction. She was known for her quick temper, and she didn't get along well with the fairy, hated the troll, and barely tolerated the wolf.

  No one moved. No one said a word as we arrived at the end of the dragon's tail.

  I wobbled onto the tail with legs that felt like rubber. Marcus planted me between one of the hump things sticking up on its back and settled in behind me as a big dragon snout sized us up.

  "Holy shit!" I shivered with fear.

  "Have you ever flown a dragon, Susan?" Marcus whispered in my ear, arms circling my stomach.

  "In my frigging nightmares," I hissed back. "I think I wet myself."

  "You're in for a treat," Marcus mused as the dragon flapped large wings under us. And then we took off.

  I hugged the hump in front of me as Jake banked over the lake.

  With wind in my face, the dragon glided like a hawk, wings spread, swooping down, circling the lights on the opposite shore from our house.

  "This is awesome!" I shouted. Laughing I spread arms, hands catching the air.

  "You want to join the Mile High Club, darling?" Marcus asked then bit my neck.

  ~~~

  Chapter 14

  Eval entity, time is begrudging thee…

  ~~~

  "You are not breaking that kitchen window!" I yelled at Christopher.

  We stood glaring at each other outside Pastor Julie's condominium.

  "Of course I'm not. I'm only three feet tall. You're gonna do it," Christopher informed me.

  Marcus walked up. I put my hand on my hip and asked, "Are you with him on this?—because I'm not getting arrested tonight."

  "Darling, let's just go in the front door, sha
ll we?" Marcus gave us a full set of pearly whites as he swaggered toward the door.

  "Oh, so besides being a member of the Mile High Club, you’re also skilled in breaking and entering, right?" I followed him to the door and stood watching as he pulled out a small zippered case about the size of a business card from his jeans.

  "No darling. You screwed me out of that accomplishment when you tossed me into the lake." He pulled a thin pointy thing out of the case. Turning away, he inserted it in the key hole, twisting it with the door handle.

  "Hey, it's not my fault Jake took that moment to show off to everybody." I tried not to laugh, but the picture of Marcus' flailing arms as he hit the water with everyone standing on the dock cheering me on was so worth the trip back to the house alone.

  "You pushed me," he muttered as he fiddled with the lock.

  "I did not!" I shook with bottled up laughter.

  Christopher turned to me with a big grin. "It was funny."

  "Hey, aren't you worried about alarms?" I asked while I tried to keep a straight face.

  "I've already disarmed the alarm, dear," Marcus answered.

  "When did you do that?" I looked around for a keypad and spotted one on the other side of the door.

  "When you and Christopher were arguing about who was going to break the window." Marcus turned the handle on the door and it slid open, ending the conversation.

  Even though we'd rung the bell a few times, knocked on a few windows, and walked around the outside of the condo, Marcus announced our arrival in a deep baritone voice. "Ms. Powers? Anyone home? Hello."

  No one answered and we walked in, shutting the door behind us.

  "Like letting them know we just broke in is gonna make them glad to see us," I scoffed, looking around for the alarm system key pad in the entranceway. "How did you know how to disarm the alarm?" I stared at the box on the wall. It wasn't flashing or beeping, so I figured he did something right.

  Marcus cocked an eye before flipping on the light switch and waving me into the living room. "I'm very adept at—what did you call it?—breaking and entering?" His eyebrows bounced.

  I shook my head and turned to the living room.

  The place looked like a showroom, all shiny and rich. Black silk curtains flanked a set of French doors at the far end of the room, which led to a large screened-in porch. The porch opened to a well landscaped courtyard, swimming pool and clubhouse.

  Two matching couches sat in an L shape along one wall—black leather trimmed in chrome. Big, fluffy, zebra-striped pillows adorned them and a smoked glass coffee table sat in front of the largest couch, magazines cluttering the surface. A funky leopard-covered chair sat beside the French doors alongside a glass end table; a stark chrome lamp sat on top.

  In the corner of the room, across from the couches, a black secretary spilled paperwork around a small laptop on the open desk. Beside the secretary, a large entertainment center filled with state-of-the-art electronics and wide screen television lined the rest of the wall.

  The black carpet felt thick and plush under my feet as I walked over to the coffee table and rifled through the magazines. Nothing exciting. Copies of this month's Cosmo, Entertainment Weekly, Forbes, Today's Christian Women, and Biblical Archaeology Review all had turned corners, like someone read them regularly. I stacked them neatly, glancing at the walls covered with abstract paintings all red, black and white with accents of yellow.

  "I'll check the bedrooms. Christopher can check the desk. And Marcus, see if you can get signed onto their computer," I ordered, pointing fingers as I headed down the hall.

  "No problem, Miss-Big-Shot, and can you leave everything the way you find it?" Christopher reshuffled the stack of magazines and put them back into their original disorderly mess. I ignored him and headed toward the back of the condo.

  "Small place, only two bedrooms, two baths; you'd think they could afford more with the crowd they draw at the church," I hollered from the master bath as I riffled through a medicine cabinet fifteen minutes later.

  "All the mail is addressed to Kim, Julie's sister," Christopher shouted back. "I guess she does all the paperwork for the church. I found a calendar with some appointments on it. The Pastor and Kim are going to the Winter Park Mall day after tomorrow."

  I stuck my head out of the bedroom. "Guess we're going on a field trip?"

  "Damned right," Christopher yelled back.

  "I'd like to know why Kim doesn't minister," Marcus said. "She's supposed to have the gift as well."

  "Maybe she doesn't wanna be in the limelight," Christopher said.

  I pulled drawers, fingered some photographs in an album on the bedside table, checked the closets and emptied the trashcans on the bed, rifling through the contents. There was nothing of interest in the room. After putting things back in order I headed to the living room.

  "I didn't find much," I told them. "One of the rooms has nothing but black clothes and underwear. I assume it's Julie's room, 'cause the other has jeans, casual shirts, white cotton bras and underwear and two pastel churchy-dresses. There's a painting of a woman with auburn hair who looks a lot like Julie, but you can tell by the background that it's probably her great-great, even greater, grandmother—probably why it's shoved between the boxspring and mattress."

  Christopher shoved a few pieces of paper in his pocket and headed for the back bedrooms. "Which room?" he asked.

  "The one on the right at the end of the hall," I told him, turning to Marcus. "Any luck with the computer?"

  "I can only get into her documents and saved mail. Most deal with church business. However, there are a few emails from Eval to Kim. I printed them." He tucked the folded pages inside his back pocket, heading for the kitchen.

  "I think we should turn on the transmitters now," I said flipping mine on and thinking how blessedly quiet it had been without my sister assaulting my eardrums.

  "Mine has been on. Your sister is not at all amused," Marcus said.

  Christopher came out of the bedroom, camera in hand. "Got a few shots of the painting. There was a name on the back, Erzsebet something; sounds familiar. I'm gonna Google it later."

  "Turn your equipment on, Christopher. We're leaving," Marcus announced, heading for the front door. He had a strange look on his face.

  Susan, where are you? I'm all uptight. Paul just called. He's been looking for you guys, JoAnn's concerned voice blared in my ear.

  "Just leaving Howey-In-The-Hills. You can unclench your ass cheeks," I said, pushing Christopher towards the door.

  I told you an hour ago, all the action is outside of Kissimmee. You really have to start listening to me or I'm going to talk to Dorius, JoAnn huffed.

  "Sorry, JoAnn, must have hit the off button by mistake. We followed a gator here and lost it."

  You're supposed to be checking your equipment regularly, darn it. I've been yelling my head off for an hour. I called Mom and she doesn't answer me either! JoAnn said.

  That's because she's on my team, Jeni sang, and I know what she's doing, you should have asked. You can only work with one team at a time, remember?

  Jennifer, I called Mom because Susan is purposely ignoring me! I can't have her doing whatever she sees fit, darn it.

  I shook my head as we shut the door behind us.

  I'd like to know what you're doing also, Mommy Dearest. You're clearly not chasing a gator in a condominium, Jeni stated.

  My problem. Not yours, Miss-Smarty-Pants, JoAnn's sarcastic voice informed all of us.

  I stopped short, turning to Marcus.

  "You guys still have your transmitters on a 'need to know' setting," I mouthed, eyeing Christopher.

  "Hey, I'm cool," Christopher said.

  Marcus smiled.

  "We followed what we thought was an infected mouse, Jeni. It scuttled into an open window at the condo, so we followed it, but it was just a mouse. We left it eating a piece of cookie on the kitchen counter." I watched Marcus' eyebrows tango across his forehead.

  With
a voice full of attitude, JoAnn said, Thank you for clearing that up for ME, Susan. Do you have some paper and a pen? I have an address for you. Paul's waiting.

  We headed down the steps of the condo toward the boat. Thirty minutes later we were in the car headed for Kissimmee.

  * * * *

  "There's Paul. Let's go find out what all the yelling was about," I said, cutting around a cropping of trees.

  Paul headed for us, pulling his shirt over his head. "I was just going to call Dorius to see if he still has Eval in custody. Where the hell have you guys been? I've been trying to contact you. We've got another crime scene."

  He herded us toward a dead end street. "This time its women and they're connected with Faith World. I found several pamphlets and a song book from the church in the house with the bodies."

  My ears perked up. I glanced at Christopher, and we both ran toward the small bungalow at the end of the street. It was painted soft coral with cream trim. Wind chimes tinkled on the front porch. The street was dead, not a car in sight as we mounted the front steps.

  "How many?" I asked.

  Paul turned as I walked across the porch toward the open front door. "Three and the police haven't been here yet."

  We walked into one hell of a mess. The first woman was in plain sight, lying on her stomach in the middle of the carpet on the living room floor. Her legs were spread and she was covered in blood, skin missing from her back. The removed skin, about eight inches by eight inches, was on the coffee table, a message printed across the clean surface. "Sheesh, whoever did this had to cut that off and then wash it," I said, gagging.

  "I'll check for blood in the kitchen sink," Gibbie announced in a flutter of wings as he headed off in that direction. Marcus followed him. I was frozen in front of the gory message.

  She's skinned proper

  Her mouth sewn shut

  Never again to speak

  Her dirty filthy smut

  I read it three times, each time turning to look at her bloody lips laced with black thread. I shuddered, gagged, and leaned on the couch for support. The smell of blood, heavy in the air, both disgusted me and made my mouth salivate.

  Paul looked at me with deadly eyes. He pulled his cell from his pocket, pecking in a phone number. Pushing the speaker button, he waited for an answer.