Dead End (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 8)

by Catie Rhodes

  Tubby yelled for Dillon. She appeared as though she'd been waiting right outside the door. Maybe she had. For the first time since I’d met her, she looked as young as she was, wide-eyed, scared, and overwhelmed by this night.

  “Back the van right up to the door,” he ordered. Then he spoke to me. “Let’s get him into the van. You can drive him to the hospital quicker than an ambulance can get out here.”

  The three of us hefted Wade off the floor of the smokehouse. His yell of pain scored into my memory so guilt could call it up next time I was having a bad day. Hannah found some blankets inside the bar. We used them to cover and cushion him as best as we could. I climbed into the van and started it. “Get in,” I told Tubby and Dillon.

  Tubby backed away. “Po-lice is about to get involved in all this. Ain’t none of y’all seen my sorry ass tonight.” He winked at me, turned, and disappeared into the woods behind Long Time Gone.

  “If it’s gonna be the po-lice, I just can’t.” Dillon ran after Tubby. She feared cops the way some people fear wasps and bees. I let her go. We’d find each other later.

  “You coming?” I asked Hannah and moved the van’s gearshift to drive.

  “I’ll wait on Dean, make sure he gets the evidence against King.” She held my gaze. “I don’t see Wade’s death. Just get him to the hospital.”

  I couldn’t let myself feel relief or hope right then. Everything seemed too precarious. “Will you call Rainey and let her know it’s over?”

  She nodded and stepped away from the van, a sure signal she wanted me to go. I drove out of the parking lot but took one glance in the rearview mirror before I turned onto the road. Hannah stood silhouetted against the huge, bright moon, swigging from her bottle of vodka.

  I drove Wade to the hospital. The emergency room workers acted more concerned about the events that got Wade there than helping him. Until I started stinging them with magical fire ants. Then they ran around glancing at me like a dog who couldn’t be trusted. It was their own stupid fault.

  I went outside and called Desiree on Wade’s phone. She’d been waiting for my call, said Wade called her most days, even just for a minute or two. Another thing I never knew about him. She knew something was wrong when he went quiet. Desiree promised to leave within the hour and said she’d be at the hospital by morning.

  Dean’s unmarked white cop car pulled into the lot and made a beeline for me. He parked at the curb and stood over me with hands on his hips.

  “Did you get the tape and the murder clothes?” I asked, as though I hadn’t pulled a jackass fit in the emergency room and used magic to get my way.

  He nodded and sat down next to me with a tired sigh.

  “You gonna arrest me?” I kept smoking, wanting to get as much tar and nicotine as I could before he took me in. Smoking was probably outlawed in the fancy new Sheriff’s Office downtown.

  He smiled, and I remembered why we dated. He was still gorgeous. “I said I wouldn’t, and I won’t. As far as the law knows, Mr. Tolliver got into a war with a rival motorcycle gang and was so scared by it, he decided to confess to an old crime to get police protection.”

  I shook my head. “You seriously blaming it on a rival motorcycle gang? That sounds so TV.”

  Dean shrugged. “The Six Guns needed to be over in this county. Nobody’ll miss them.”

  “What about Bullfrog?” He wasn't in a motorcycle gang, Six Guns or otherwise.

  Dean frowned for a moment before realization dawned on his face. “You mean Jeremiah Pike?”

  I shook my head. “Was that his real name?”

  “That’s him,” Dean said. “We will just assume Mr. Pike somehow got caught in the crossfire. His running afoul of the law goes back many years.”

  I watched Dean’s face, looking for remorse or shame and saw none. The harsh parking lot lights could have been to blame, but I didn’t think so. “Don’t tell me you’re becoming a crooked cop.” I knew I was shitting my own bed, but Dean had bitched endlessly about his predecessor’s dishonesty. Now he was acting the same way.

  “Depends on what you think a crooked cop is. I’m protecting the citizens of this county from a menace. Besides, I…” He stared out at the dark parking lot, choosing his words. “I guess I felt like I owed you. I’m not sorry we broke up, but I am sorry for the way I acted. Can we call it even?"

  I nodded my yes. “Where’s Hannah? I figured she’d come on to the hospital.”

  Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. “She downed half a bottle of vodka while I was with her. I took her to the museum and got her into her apartment. She was snoring when I left.”

  I took the news silently, even though I was hurt she hadn’t called and explained. It was a clear signal she wanted nothing to do with me right now. It could have been because she couldn’t take any more tonight. But I thought it was just that she didn’t want to be around me. Things I could have done different flooded my thoughts and made me wince.

  Realizing Dean was watching me, I said, “Good luck on fatherhood. You’re gonna do great.” I stood, eager to be away from my ex. We’d both changed, good and bad.

  Dean stood with me and gripped my arm. “Don’t come to my house again, okay? My wife was pissed.”

  We grinned at each other. I gently pulled my arm away and walked back into the hospital. It was obvious the workers didn’t want me there, but they were too scared to try to throw me out. Not too long ago, I’d have felt ashamed. Now I didn’t much care.

  A nurse wearing scrubs with cartoon puppies on them took the time to tell me Wade’s head wound was non-fatal, but he had a concussion and they didn't know how bad it was yet. The older gunshot wounds in his back were so infected they would require serious antibiotics or his organs might shut down. She said to check back in an hour to see if they’d gotten him into a room yet.

  I went back outside, lit yet another cigarette, and called Rainey. She answered the phone squealing about the downfall of King and the recovery of the evidence that would help Jesse get out of prison.

  She stopped speaking and let out a yell. “I’m getting Jesse out.”

  “Don’t get too excited,” I warned. “King’ll probably deny knowing about any of it.”

  Rainey snorted. “The county prosecutor’s been advising me for years on getting Jesse’s case reopened, and we’ve already talked. He says the evidence is going to make a difference. Either Joey Holze or King will break. Maybe they’ll turn on each other. All I know is Jesse’s getting out.” She yelled this last part and let out a mad cackle. A tear, both of joy and grief, slid down my cheek. I let it run to my jawbone and splash to the concrete. I took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “Where are you?” Rainey stopped laughing.

  “Hospital.” I explained about Wade.

  “Do you want me to come?” She didn’t want to. I could hear it her voice. She wanted to keep celebrating and getting ready for the last leg of her longest marathon. I didn’t begrudge her a bit.

  “Naw. I got it under control.” Tears leaked from my eyes in a steady stream, and I had to strain to keep my voice even. Rainey and I said our goodbyes. I went back into the hospital to wait for news of Wade.

  When they finished treating Wade and moved him to a room, I stationed a chair outside the door. The nurses didn’t like it, but none of them wanted to fight me. Not long before dawn, through a haze of half reality, I thought I saw an angel with a halo of blond hair step off the elevator. She had with her a younger angel. They came to a stop in front of me.

  The blond woman, who was unnaturally tall the way I figured all angels probably were, leaned over and shook my leg. “Peri Jean?”

  I jerked awake at her foggy smoker’s voice. The woman and girl slid into focus. They weren’t angels. Obviously mother and daughter, both with blond hair, long legs, and hourglass figures. I pegged the daughter in her late teens. The woman’s age wasn’t so easy to guess. She had a web of fine lines around her eyes and mouth, indicating at least forty years on earth
, but her eyes looked thousands of years old.

  “Desiree?” I had expected Wade’s sister to be a female version of him and not so…feminine.

  “Yep. We’re here.” She pointed at the room. I nodded and stood, smoothing down my filthy blue jeans. Desiree tried to smile, but worry chased it off her face. “I hope you’ll not take offense, but this is a family matter. We’ll deal with him alone.”

  I blinked and took a step backward, hands up. I needed a cup of coffee anyway. I took off walking but never made it to the cafeteria. Cecil and Dillon met me in the lobby of the hospital. Mysti, Griff, and Brad stood slightly behind them. I rushed to them, arms out. They circled and hugged me, all asking questions. We went into the cafeteria where I told them everything I knew and drank numerous cups of coffee.

  When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I went back upstairs to check on Wade. His room was empty.

  Too shocked to move, I stood holding the door and staring into the room. Footsteps came toward me. My paralysis broke.

  I hurried into the room and shut the door. Wade’s hospital gown lay over the footboard of his bed. Bloodstained bandages stuffed the trash can.

  Hurt welled up, tightening my throat. I pressed one hand over my mouth to hold back the sob trembling against my lips. Wade couldn’t be gone. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end between us.

  How did they heal him? It was a good question, a good way to put off accepting the truth in front of me. Wade’s healing power came from his being the seventh son of a seventh son. His sister and niece weren’t sons at all. They shouldn’t have been able to heal him. So there.

  Grief expanded in my chest, tightening it. I swallowed hard and let some of the truth seep in. It didn’t matter how Wade’s sister and his niece had healed him. Witchcraft. Blond-chick power. The result was the same. They’d healed him, and he’d left without saying goodbye. I took a trembling breath, walked the few steps to the bed, and put one hand on it.

  An envelope that looked like it had been around the block a few times sat on the pillow. My name was written on it in Wade’s uneven scrawl.

  I snatched up the flimsy paper with trembling hands and nearly tore it taking out the sheet of paper within. A grocery list? What the hell? Then I turned it over. Words covered the whole page.

  Peri Jean,

  I figured I was going to lay there and die in that stinking smokehouse. Thank you for saving my life. I’ll never forget it.

  Gaslight City is over for me. Has been for a while. It’s time for me to move on.

  It’s also time for me to let you walk your own path. I think I’ve put you in more danger than I have helped you.

  I love you with all my heart and wish things could be different.

  Godspeed.

  —Wade

  I stood numb and still. The coffee gurgled on my stomach. I made myself pick up the envelope again and hold it open. My mojo bag, the one that let Wade know when I was in trouble, in need of his help, lay in the bottom of the envelope. I slipped it into my pocket. Hands quivering, I folded the note and put it back inside the envelope. Then I stood there, numb.

  If Wade and I no longer had our connection, how would he come when I needed him? He wouldn’t. Ever again. But I could know when he was in trouble.

  I knew enough about magic now to make my own mojo bag. And Wade had left all the stuff I needed behind. I rushed to gather a few strands of his long black hair off the pillow and liberate a few of the bloody bandages from the trash can.

  The door clicked open. I shoved the mojo bag supplies into my pocket and turned, expecting to see an angry nurse, wondering where her patient got to, but it was Tubby.

  My mouth trembled, and I held up the note.

  Tubby nodded. “I saw two blonds helping him across the parking lot. The hospital must have shaved part of his hair off. How does he get all the women, even looking like that?”

  I shrugged. Tubby put his arm around me and steered me toward the door. “Your people’s waiting downstairs. Best get to ’em.”

  Tubby led me through the halls. I walked with my head down, dependent on him to keep me from falling on my face. He did his job. We got back down to the lobby.

  Just as Tubby promised, my family and friends sat waiting for me. Griff and Cecil had their heads together. Had the two of them worked things out? Neither looked mad. Mysti sat, Dillon’s phone in hand, exclaiming over pictures of Dillon’s kids. Brad gave me a wave and a smile. I started toward them, but Tubby caught my arm.

  He kicked at the floor, face reddening. “Bullfrog had the double-cross planned before we left the bar. I never even knew. Trench Coat met us in the woods. It was either go along or die right there.”

  “You did what you needed to survive.” I didn’t expect any different from Tubby. He lacked Wade’s selflessness and Dean’s need to be a hero. Didn’t make him bad. Tubby was just cut from a different cloth.

  “That mean you’ll be back in Gaslight City sometime soon?” He looked hopeful. Did he really have so little to look forward to?

  I shook my head. “I think my business here in Burns County is finished for good.” I hadn’t realized I felt that way until the words came out. But my business was finished here. After everything, I shared a little of Cecil’s superstition about the badness of this place.

  Tubby nodded. He jammed his fists in his pockets, head down. He looked so lonely.

  “But I’ll be traveling all over Texas with my family this summer.” I said the words quickly before I could change my mind. “Come visit us. You’ve got a lot in common with my cousin, Finn.”

  He raised his head smiling, leaned forward, and kissed my cheek. “Hasta luego, beautiful.” He waved and walked out into the softness of the early morning, whistling.

  I went to my friends and family. Nobody wanted to hang around longer than necessary. We gathered up what was ours and prepared to leave town. I bundled my stuff into the big truck I’d stolen off a dead woman.

  “You sure you want to ride by yourself?” Dillon's forehead creased with concern. She needed to quit doing that. Her fair, freckled skin would remember those wrinkles and stay like that all the time.

  “You go on with the others. Papaw shouldn’t be by himself.” Cecil wasn’t really my Papaw, but it felt good to call him that. It felt good to have Dillon standing at my back. I pulled her into an impulsive hug. She squeezed hard and whispered that she loved me. I told her I loved her too.

  I drove past the museum on the way out of town. A “Closed” sign hung in the door, but the lights were on in Hannah’s upstairs apartment. I wondered if she would open the museum today. Not my problem.

  I turned left at the next stoplight, away from the museum and away from Gaslight City. My next business was in Tyler at the Rose City Inn. I dreaded facing Mohawk again and even felt a little bad for what I was going to do with Trench Coat’s sprit, but a deal was a deal.

  At the Tyler City limits, it hit me that I hadn’t said all I had to say to Hannah. I pulled over and called her phone. I wasn’t surprised when it went to voicemail.

  I left a message. “Hannah, I’m sorry things ended up the way they did between us. Your friendship has saved my sanity so many times. I guess I hoped my friendship could save yours. Maybe what I did gave you one more chance for a fresh start. I’ll leave you alone from here on out. Life’s hard enough without the past coming back to haunt you. I love you and wish you the best life has to offer. Watch out for dead ends.” I hung up. Ten minutes later, I pulled into the Rose City Inn’s lumpy asphalt parking lot and cried until I wanted to puke.

  Someone tapped on my window. With as much dignity as I could muster, I wiped off my face with my T-shirt and got out of the car.

  Mohawk didn't ask what was wrong. Their kind didn’t seem to care much about human feelings. I suspected they saw us the same way most humans see animals. It seemed fair in the grand scheme of things. Besides, Mohawk was the last person—thing?— I wanted to spill out my sorrows in front of.
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br />   He said, “Are you prepared to fulfill your end of our deal?”

  I nodded and followed him to the room where I’d leave Trench Coat’s spirit for eternity. Mohawk unlocked the door and held it open for me.

  He sniffed my hair as I passed. I tightened with disgust but tried to hide it and set my witch pack on the bed. I dug out Trench Coat’s keychain and tossed it on the bed beside my pack.

  Mohawk came close and picked it up. He began to smile.

  I preened a little in spite of myself. “It’s either that or the mirror for the focus. Otherwise, he won’t be able to attach himself to people.”

  “I know how magic works.” He rolled his eyes.

  I dragged the rickety table out in the open and spread the lace tablecloth I’d borrowed from Mysti on top of it. The same candles she’d used only a few hours earlier went on top of that. I put my hands on my hips and waited for Mohawk's decision.

  He tossed the spike keychain in his hand several times. “Your ghost can’t travel the way the hag could, especially once he’s dedicated to this room. If I choose the mirror, he’ll be confined to the room.” It wasn’t a question. He was thinking things over, so I didn’t bother to answer. “You have enough skill and power to trap him in this keychain?”

  I nodded. The confidence felt like an ill-fitting coat, too expensive and heavy for someone as plain and unimportant as me.

  “If someone were to touch the keychain, pick it up, could he attach himself and go home with them? Haunt them, scare them? Maybe get them back here for the big finale?” Mohawk’s greedy smile sent chills running over my skin. It reminded me of the hag’s cold avarice.

  “If I tell Trench Coat to do that, he will.” I’d had most of a night and the drive over here to recharge. Beyond that, I could always draw energy from Priscilla Herrera’s spirit, who I felt watching this transaction a little too gleefully. She wanted this for me. Realization of power was everything to her.