The Chupacabra Catastrophe

by Amanda M. Lee

  “That’s not what I asked. If you’re not being paid enough, I’ll talk to Chris.”

  “I’m paid fine.” It was true. “I didn’t expect to make buckets of money coming out of the gate. I have more than enough to pay my rent and put some away each month.”

  “Okay.” Jack dropped it. “Did you guys see anything while you were at Hooper’s Mill today?”

  “Nothing of interest,” Bernard replied. “The town is sort of desolate and depressing.”

  “You said you felt as if someone was watching you, Millie,” I reminded her. “Do you think it was a person?”

  “As opposed to the Chupacabra?” Millie grinned, legitimately amused. “I don’t know if it was a man or monster. I’m not even sure it was real. It was just a feeling.”

  “Maybe it was a ghost,” Bernard suggested. “I’m guessing that place is thick with them.”

  “Not that I’ve seen,” I murmured, my mind flashing back to the vision of Jack screaming my name.

  “Do you see many ghosts?” Jack asked.

  I realized what I said too late to take it back. “No. I wish I did, though.”

  Jack’s eyes were lasers as they locked with mine. “You wish you could see ghosts?”

  He was making me nervous. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Not last time I checked.” Jack focused on the road. “Charlie thought she heard something in the saloon, but when I flicked on the flashlight there was nothing. Were you inside the saloon, Millie?”

  “Of course. It’s a saloon. I’ve always wanted to hang out in a vintage saloon. Of course, to be fair, that saloon is a little more vintage than I’d like.”

  “Word.” I bobbed my head, thinking I was merely fitting in with the group. When Jack, Bernard and Millie burst out laughing I realized that probably wasn’t the case. “You guys suck.”

  Jack chuckled, the sound light and easy. “You’ll learn to love us.”

  One look at his strong profile told me that was potentially true … and worrisome. “I’m hungry,” I volunteered, shifting the conversation again. “I assume we’re having barbecue again tonight.”

  “That seems to be the only thing the one diner in town offers,” Millie said. “You guys were out of town today. Please tell me you got something different.”

  “Mexican,” I said. “It was good. The waitress hit on Jack.”

  Millie seemed happy to turn the conversation toward the taciturn security chief. “Oh, I bet that’s the story of his life. What do you think, Jack? Is she your type?”

  “No.” Jack answered without hesitation.

  “What exactly is your type?” Bernard asked.

  “Inquiring minds want to know,” I teased.

  Jack heaved a sigh. “I’m kind of wishing we’d made a rule about being quiet for the ride.”

  “Too late.”

  “I’ll remember for next time.”

  AFTER DROPPING BY MY ROOM to wash up and run a brush through my hair, ultimately giving up and returning it to a loose bun because it looked gross thanks to the nonstop sweat, I headed down the street. We all agreed to meet at the diner. I wasn’t surprised no one waited for me. I was the last to arrive, and the only open spot was between Zach and Jack.

  I took my seat, flashing a friendly smile at Hannah across the table, and grabbed a menu as I tried to ignore my growling stomach.

  “You smell divine,” Zach offered, leaning in to sniff me.

  I shifted away from him and almost ended up in Jack’s lap. “Um … okay.”

  “Don’t do that,” Jack ordered, glaring at our erstwhile guide. “That’s invasive.”

  “I was just sniffing her,” Zach argued. “She smells like coconuts.”

  “It’s body spray,” I said. “I used it to mask the fact that I smell like a stinky armpit underneath thanks to all the sweating I did today.”

  Zach made a face. “Well, that sort of ruins the illusion.”

  “I think it adds to her mystique.” Jack’s lips quirked as I shifted away from him. “Try not to sniff her, okay? She clearly doesn’t like it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Zach’s response was sarcastic, and I didn’t miss the way the muscle in Jack’s jaw tightened.

  “It’s cuter when I do it, huh?” I whispered, trying to ease the tension. It apparently worked because Jack’s expression softened.

  “Infinitely.”

  “So, what’s the plan with the cameras?” Laura asked, clearly growing bored with the sideshow at our end of the table. “Are we going to watch the footage in the morning and make a new plan?”

  “In theory, yes,” Chris replied, sipping his water. “I’m hoping we’ll see something definitive. If we don’t, we’ll still return to Hooper’s Mill in the morning.”

  “What if we do see something?” I asked. “Does that mean we’ll spend the night tomorrow and try to get photographs – like up-close-and-personal style?”

  “You need to let that go,” Jack warned.

  I ignored him. “It’s just … we might see something that the cameras miss.”

  “I happen to agree with you, but it’s up to Jack,” Chris said. “I’m in charge of everything but security. Jack has to give his okay for something like an overnighter.”

  “That sounds like a bummer because Jack is such a dull dude,” Zach said.

  Laura chortled as I scorched him with a hot glare.

  “Jack has a job to do,” I barked. “He’s responsible for us. I’m sure you have no idea what that means, because you’re barely responsible for yourself. So you might want to shut your hole instead of attacking him.”

  I had no idea I could be so vehement in my response until the words were already out of my mouth, and when I shifted I found Millie watching me with delight. Jack, however, seemed dumbfounded.

  “Well, thank you for that,” Jack said after a beat. “Does that mean you’ll stop bothering me about spending the night in Hooper’s Mill?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Jack rolled his neck and smiled at the diner owner, Donna, as she approached the table. “Your food is delicious. We’re looking forward to another wonderful meal.”

  And the charm was back and on full display. I had no idea how he did it.

  “You don’t need to blow smoke up my behind,” Donna said dryly. “The barbecue is good, but it’s hardly going to win awards. That’s why I’m out here. I’m doing ribs tonight. They’ll take another twenty minutes. They’re one of my best dishes, so I suggest waiting for them.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jack said.

  “Me, too.” Chris was enthusiastic as he closed his menu. “While you’re out here, I was wondering if you might have some insight into the history of Hooper’s Mill. We pulled some documents from the county clerk’s office but we have more questions than answers.”

  “I don’t know how much help I can be, but I’ll certainly give it a try,” Donna said. “Lay it on me.”

  “Well, for starters, why is some of the wood older?” Jack asked the first question before Chris had a chance. “Charlie noticed that the front porches are newer and less likely to fall apart. The stairs in the hotel are the same. Also, there looked to be some sort of weird construction that happened at some point on the second floor – a room that is no longer a room maybe – but it was hard to ascertain with the limited light.”

  Hmm. I noticed the odd floor patterns, but I hadn’t paid any attention to the corner Jack mentioned. I would have to look closer when we returned.

  “I can’t be certain, but I seem to remember a story about a developer coming in, oh, it must have been in the late nineties, and he did some work at Hooper’s Mill while the paperwork was still winding its way through the state. Ultimately his mortgage didn’t go through and he couldn’t take it over, so all the work he did was for nothing.”

  “That seems a shame,” I said. “Most of the buildings look like they’re one good storm away from falling down.”

  “I think that’s why Domi
nic Sully wants to get in there as soon as possible,” Donna said. “He’s been making noises that he wants clearance – and soon – because he’s certain the buildings won’t last much longer. He wants to fortify them.”

  “Does he plan on keeping the original work?” Jack asked.

  “I think he plans to keep the original feel,” Donna clarified, tucking a strand of her dirty blonde hair behind her ear. She looked sweaty and tired, but seemed eager to answer questions rather than return to kitchen duty. “That wood is so old it can’t be saved.”

  “Do you go out there often?” I asked.

  “I’ve been out there a few times over the years. I’d be more willing to visit if it wasn’t so creepy. Plus, well, with everyone saying they’ve seen strange beasties out there I don’t have much interest in hanging out.”

  “So you’ve never seen the Chupacabra?” Chris was disappointed.

  “I didn’t say that.” Donna smiled. “I said that I don’t want to see strange beasties. The Chupacabra isn’t strange. It’s misunderstood.”

  Jack exchanged an amused look with me. “How so?”

  “Well, for starters, it’s half dog and half lizard. You would be confused if you were like that, too.” Donna’s face lit up as she warmed to her subject. “I saw it one day out behind the shed. It was just hanging out, panting like a dog. Seemed okay to me.”

  “Panting like a dog?” Chris’ expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that Donna’s story didn’t sit well with him. “I’ve never heard of a Chupacabra panting like a dog.”

  “Then you haven’t been talking to the right people.” Donna clapped Chris’ shoulder, amused. “I have a boatload of stories for you if you’re interested.”

  “I’m definitely interested.” Chris was nothing if not a gentleman.

  “Well, I’ll get your ribs and then come back and join you,” Donna said. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll have a waitress come and take your drink orders.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” Chris was practically giddy when he turned back to us. “Isn’t this great?”

  “Yes, I can’t wait to hear about the panting lizard,” Jack said dryly. “I actually have something I want to talk to Donna about when she gets back, though. I want to see if I can arrange a meeting with Dominic Sully, although I have no idea if he’s been found since his disappearance or if he’s even open to talking with me.”

  “Why do you want to talk to him?” Chris asked.

  “Because he’s going to buy the town and he and Wendell Morrison were competing to own it,” Jack replied. “If we’re trying to rule out human suspects, we should start with Sully. He seems to have the most motive for wanting Morrison gone.”

  “Yes, but Morrison was exsanguinated,” Chris pointed out. “Humans don’t usually do that.”

  “Vampires do,” I offered. “Maybe we’re not looking for the Chupacabra at all. Maybe we’re looking for a vampire.”

  “Do you think that’s helping?” Jack asked, his eyebrows migrating up his forehead.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be helping. I’ll do better next time.”

  “That would be great,” Jack gritted out. “As for Sully, I’m guessing I’m going to have to go through layers of corporate B.S. to speak with him.”

  “If you think it’s necessary,” Chris said. “I believe we’re clearly dealing with something else, though.”

  “You pursue your suspect and I’ll handle mine.” Jack grabbed a breadstick from the basket at the center of the table. “I’ll start making calls in the morning.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Millie said, taking everyone by surprise. “If you want to talk to Sully, I’ll arrange it for you. There won’t be any hoops to jump through.”

  Jack licked his lips, his mind clearly busy. “You’ll arrange it for me?”

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

  “But … how?”

  “I know people who know people,” Millie replied. “I can arrange it. I’ll make a call in the morning and get you a time.”

  Jack didn’t look convinced, but he capitulated all the same. “Okay, well, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Millie smiled. “Now, let’s talk about the panting lizard. I think that would be a great name for a porn star.”

  The table erupted in laughter, giving me a chance to watch Millie with fresh eyes. She was full of surprises. I risked a glance at Jack and found him doing the same.

  “What do you think?” I kept my voice low.

  “I have no idea what to think. I guess we’ll simply have to see how things work out.”

  I wasn’t keen on the idea, but we were at a crossroads. “Thanks for not sniffing me, by the way.” I was trying to lighten the mood and I knew it worked when Jack cracked a grin.

  “You do smell fabulous,” he teased. “I especially love the hint of armpit you exude. It’s … delightful.”

  “That’s what I was going for.”

  15

  Fifteen

  My dreams were muddled.

  Millie did her best to get me to go out to the bar with her again, but my head – and liver – politely declined. I was more than happy to roll into bed and slide into slumber. Unfortunately, what followed wasn’t exactly restful.

  I found myself wandering through a dreamscape. I was in Hooper’s Mill – I recognized it – but it didn’t resemble the ramshackle place I’d visited in the present. No, this was something from the past. Whether it was my mind filling in the gaps or how the town really looked, I couldn’t be certain.

  The sun was high in the sky, although there was something of a mist hanging about. The streets were empty. The town looked like it should be bustling with activity, but it was as if the residents suddenly disappeared for no apparent reason, which made it all the eerier.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Jack’s voice jolted me, and I swiveled quickly, widening my eyes when I found him sitting in front of a small building, his feet propped on a split-rail fence and a cigar in his hand.

  “What are you doing here?” I challenged, stepping closer. He wore a tin badge on his chest. It was faded, and he looked to have an antique gun in a holster on his hip. “You look like an extra from a western.”

  “You don’t look like you belong here,” Jack challenged. “Why aren’t you in costume?”

  I smiled at his outrage. “I guess my imagination is running away from me … again. You look nice in the outfit. The hat looks adorable with your hair.”

  Jack made a face. “Whatever.” He puffed on the cigar, wrinkling his nose as he coughed. “Why am I smoking this? I don’t smoke.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I associate movie sheriffs with cigars. I can’t explain it.”

  “I think that says a little something about you,” Jack muttered, shaking his head. “Why am I here, Charlie?” The question was so plaintive I could do nothing but shrug.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m here.”

  “I think you do,” Jack countered, getting to his feet. “You’re here because you think there’s a mystery to solve. You like solving mysteries.”

  “You barely know me. How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because I know you better than you think. It might be argued that you don’t know yourself very well so you can’t see it, but it’s true.”

  “Is that because I’m young and dumb?” My voice, tinged with bitter resentment, wasn’t pretty.

  “I didn’t say you were dumb. I said you were young. That’s not an insult.”

  “It feels like an insult.”

  “Which is only something you believe when you’re young.” Jack’s eyes lit with mirth as he tipped back his hat and flicked the cigar to the ground. “What do you think you’re going to find here?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for … and you shouldn’t litter. Pick that up.”

  “This isn’t real, so I’m not littering.” />
  He had a point. “It’s still gross.”

  “Whatever.” Jack rolled his neck. “I know what you’re doing here. You’re looking for answers, but I haven’t figured out the question you want answered yet. Are you looking for the Chupacabra or something else?”

  That was a very good question. “Chris is convinced that the Chupacabra killed Wendell Morrison. He won’t even consider anything else. You’re convinced it’s a human and won’t budge from that. What if the answer is somewhere in the middle?”

  Jack furrowed his brow. “What? Like Dominic Sully took his pet Chupacabra to Hooper’s Mill and killed Wendell Morrison because the guy was moving in on his business venture?”

  Well, when he said it like that. “Just because Morrison was probably killed by a human doesn’t mean the Chupacabra isn’t hanging around Hooper’s Mill.”

  “Fair point. But I still don’t believe the Chupacabra is real.”

  “I know.” I tilted my head back and stared at the sun. “This isn’t real. It should hurt to stare at the sun like this. That’s how I know this isn’t real.”

  “I’m going to play devil’s advocate here. Just because you know it’s a dream, that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

  “Oh, apparently I’ve turned you into a weird philosopher spouting messages that surely must come from fortune cookies in my subconscious.”

  “Maybe that’s who I am in real life.”

  “Doubtful.” I pressed my eyes shut and clasped my hands. “Something bad is going to happen, Jack. I feel it.”

  “Have faith. It might not be as bad as you think.”

  As if on cue, I heard it again, a loud rumble of thunder even though it was a sunny day. Then the screaming started.

  “Charlie!”

  I wrenched open my eyes, but the Jack who stood next to me only moments before was gone. I was alone again, in my hotel bed, with nothing but his bellow on the imaginary wind in my head.

  “Something bad is going to happen,” I repeated. “I don’t think I can run from it this time.”

  I WAS DRAGGING WHEN I woke the next morning, the dream weighing me down. Everyone was already at the breakfast table in the hotel restaurant when I made my way to the main floor and took the seat between Zach and Jack. I barely registered that it was the same configuration from the night before when Jack pushed a glass of orange juice in front of me.