A Cold Day in Hell

by Stella Cameron

  Holy hell. “Is that right?”

  “Without doubt. But there are other currents. I don’t understand all of them yet, but I will. Others I read very well now that you have explained some issues to me.

  “I can tell you that the lovely Eileen fears she will lose you if you do not become lovers. But you will have to be the, er, aggressor, because she is tied by her duty to the boy. She will sacrifice her chances for satisfaction unless you prove to her that it is right for the two of you to find mutual heaven.” Chuzah rolled his eyes then closed them. “If you could see what I see, you would not waste another moment. Her naked body is your vessel to fill, your ecstasy. Her breasts like white melons tipped dusky dark and only waiting for your lips, your teeth. When your manroot sinks slowly into her for the first time, the she-creature will explode with passion. She will draw you in again and again, scratch your skin, sob out her desire for more and more of you, until—”

  “Right,” Angel said, finally finding a voice. “It won’t be easy, but trust me to—”

  “Exactly. And I am fascinated by your strengths. Both those you have learned and those with which you were born.”

  Angel cleared away any expression, a skill he’d learned when he was in the CIA, a part of his life he preferred to ignore.

  “An important man to have around,” Chuzah said. “Your visions, are they as strong as ever?”

  Angel’s heart made a momentary full stop. How did this man know anything about Angel’s premonitions or his ability to visualize trouble already in action? He was doing his best to forget these unwelcome gifts and he’d been doing well since he left the CIA. Until very recently, that was. Vague hints of the old plague had started to return.

  “Not as strong, but nevertheless still with you?” Chuzah said. “Good. They will be useful, more than useful. They may save…I have smelled death.”

  “Do you always talk in code?” Angel wanted to drop the subject. “Not that you’re right about me.” He knew he didn’t sound convincing but Chuzah had caught him off guard.

  “I will be very clear.” Chuzah glanced toward the bedroom. “Soon there will be questions from your woman. We must finish. What has happened is not as it appears. The injury to Aaron was minor—no more than a small bruise or two.”

  “When Sonny came for us he said Aaron was bleeding badly.”

  Chuzah shrugged. “He saw blood—probably from a cut somewhere. He thought it must be serious, no more.”

  Angel glanced away. “There’s blood on Sonny’s clothes.”

  “What we know, we know,” Chuzah said softly. “But it’s best that the truth be denied. The injury was intended to be deadly. What I don’t know is which boy was supposed to die.”

  “Damn,” Angel said under his breath.

  “But you knew there was doubt,” Chuzah said. “Or you suspected it.” Locum rose from the floor abruptly, loped to Angel and looked up into his face. A faint scent, wood-smoke, hovered around the animal and his silvery-blue eyes didn’t blink. Angel felt the hair rise on the back of his neck.

  “You cannot deny your intuition,” Chuzah said. “See how Locum feels it. Down, boy.”

  “What is it you want to tell me?” Angel said.

  “You believe Sonny is in danger?”

  “I wish I didn’t.”

  “I was in the trees when the trouble came,” Chuzah said. He stood up, breathing deeply, expanding his big chest. “Meditating. I saw the boys. They meant no harm. Curiosity about the practices is common.”

  “Boys will be boys?” Angel said, biting his tongue, but wanting to hurry the man to the point.

  “Mmm. That one who was quiet. The one you say is your nephew.”

  “Sonny.”

  “He is not your nephew. You are not related.”

  Angel had regained control over his reactions. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know that. And I know the boy is in trouble. He fears a hunter.”

  “Where are you getting all this?”

  “Each of us has different talents.”

  “I want to get Eileen and the boys home.”

  Chuzah came toward him and Angel automatically got to his feet. The other man’s eyes were black, large, uptilted. And mysterious. But Angel saw no malice in him.

  “Take them home,” Chuzah said. “But when you need me, I will be here.”

  “Thanks. We’ll manage.”

  “I will be here. And remember this. Out there—” He pointed both first fingers toward the outside. “Out there is an evil force made more fearsome because it has no discipline. What you face is a bitter desire for vengeance. I don’t know the reason yet, but I will. Do you know the reason?”

  Did he? What was he thinking? This joker had practiced his act and what he said could mean whatever he wanted it to mean. What Angel didn’t know was what the man wanted from him.

  “You’re off-base,” Angel said. “Thanks for looking after Aaron. But you’re deliberately talking in circles. Were there really shots? Or did he scare himself into a collapse. He doesn’t look as if he was wounded.”

  Chuzah smiled. “Perhaps not. You’ll see. I may be off-base, as you say. Regardless, don’t let your guard down.” He stood still and his smile faded. He turned toward the bedroom and back again. “It’s important not to make a mistake. It would be disastrous to misread the signs.”

  “What signs?” Angel said. “If you’ve got something I need to know, tell me.”

  The haughty face was all sharp angles. “Until you are ready to trust me, I cannot be certain I read the signs correctly. Trust will take time. I understand. But you don’t have much time, my friend.

  “I can tell you one fact,” Chuzah continued. “Today someone was supposed to die. The attempt failed, but there will be another attempt.”

  “Someone tried to kill Sonny?” Angel said.

  “When the trouble comes again, it will be when you don’t expect it. You must guard against what is least likely. One death may not come close to satisfying our killer’s appetite.”

  6

  Bucky Smith turned his head, tried to focus. Flashing lights. He fucking hated flashing lights. They never meant anythin’ good, or they never had for him.

  He hated this town. If he hadn’t just about run out of places to be, he’d already be gone.

  Cops driving down the side of Ona’s.

  So what? Nothing to do with him. He just had to take a leak and he’d be out of here.

  Nobody gave a shit about him. Never had.

  Would you look at that? He was in the damn kitchen. What he wanted was the can, the can, dammit.

  Where was everyone back here? Yeah, Ona’s Out Back. Tea room, she called it. Shit. He could smell the booze even if the place was empty. Empty, not a single piece of ass sippin’ tea.

  The cop lights were out back.

  Out back of Out Back.

  Damn, he ought to be a poet or somethin’. He needed that can and another drink. If anyone was still workin’ around here.

  The fryer smelled good. All those leftover bits of food bubblin’ in the fat. Best part of this nowhere, the food.

  Bucky turned back, frowned. He must have passed the can on the way in here.

  The side door to the outside slammed open and a guy came in—fast. Bucky turned his head the other way, blinked to look at him. Just a guy in a wet coat.

  “You lost?” Bucky said. “Same’s me. Shit. You lookin’ for the can, too?”

  The guy just stared at him, his hair dark and sopped, stuck to his face.

  Bucky raised his palms. “Friendly, ain’t you? Well, fuck you.” He stumbled toward the passageway to Out Front.

  He didn’t see the hand coming.

  Fingers dug into his windpipe and he gagged, took a swing at the face that wouldn’t stay still. He clawed at the man’s chest.

  Deeper the fingertips gouged. Bucky’s mouth opened. A shove and he fell backward. His skull hit something hard and he felt his bladder let go.
/>   All he heard was the sizzle of the boiling fat.

  7

  Finn Duhon drove into the parking lot behind Ona’s restaurants. Emma had called him, whispered for him to come, but she wouldn’t say why.

  A cream-colored Jeep passed him and the driver honked. Finn honked back but didn’t recognize the vehicle or the driver. Seeing someone drive by as though everything was normal didn’t make him feel any better.

  He stopped his car and jumped out. The lights were on in both Out Front and Out Back. It wasn’t that late.

  He didn’t see anyone in the lot and started to run past parked cars. He saw Emma’s Lexus and broke into a sprint. His left shoe scrunched on something and he paused to look down.

  Car keys. He picked them up and knew immediately that they were Emma’s. Finn breathed through his open mouth. Heading for her car again, he punched the number pad on his cell, got through to the police station and demanded to speak with Matt Boudreaux.

  He heard Matt’s voice and said, “Get to the parking lot behind Ona’s. Something’s happened to Emma. I think she’s been kidnapped,” then cut off.

  The Lexus was empty, just as he’d known it would be. No wonder she’d whispered; she must have been in someone else’s vehicle.

  Maybe she was in a trunk. Emma was no dummy. He could hope she’d find a way to put out a taillight to get air—or puncture the spare tire.

  How long had she been in trouble before she could call him? Finn stared around.

  He heard a siren and saw the reflection of flashing lights against the sky.

  What should he do first? This wasn’t like jungle warfare—the only kind of warfare he knew about. He didn’t have the automatic reactions that would work here.

  My God. He didn’t know where to start.

  People who wanted children badly enough cut babies from their mothers’ wombs.

  He bent double and took a deep breath. Finn Duhon didn’t panic. He’d been a warrior and that was something that changed you forever. He needed the police and they’d be here any moment.

  Breaking into a jog, he headed back toward his car.

  “Finn!”

  He jumped, searched in every direction.

  “It’s you.” And it was Emma’s voice. An instant later she broke into sobs.

  Blood pounded into Finn’s head. He followed the sounds and found her easily. Under a pickup truck, on her poor, swollen belly, the side of her face resting in the dirt. She still clutched her cell. Her very curly, honey-blond hair fell over her face.

  “Hold on,” he said, on his knees, peering at her. “Don’t move. Matt’s coming. I’ll call the medical-aid car now. And I’ll see if I can get Mitch Halpern to come over.”

  “Take me home,” she said in a small, broken voice. “Help me out of here and take me home.”

  “Cher, please don’t move.” He stayed on all fours where he could see her and make sure she didn’t attempt to move. And he called emergency again, this time asking for medical response.

  Emma dropped her phone and reached out a hand. Finn closed his fingers over hers. “Has the man gone?” she asked quietly. “I didn’t hear him go. Be careful, Finn. He could creep up on you.”

  Sirens grew louder.

  “Man?” Finn said. “There was a man? Did you recognize him?”

  “No, it was too dark. Look around. Make sure he isn’t coming back.”

  Finn did as he was told but the only movement was a guy coming around from Ona’s Out Front to get on his motorbike, which he’d parked near a wall. He kicked off the stand, climbed on and roared away. He didn’t even glance toward the parking lot.

  “How long have you been down here?”

  Emma pushed at her hair. “I don’t know. A long time. Finn, I can move my hands and legs just fine but it was hard to calm down. I listened to the baby. There wasn’t any pain. That’s good, isn’t it? I thought blood would come—I expected to feel it rush out.”

  “You’re both going to be fine.” He realized he believed it—he had to. “Sounds as if the aid car’s right there with the cops.”

  “I don’t want all kinds of people, Finn. I’m fine now you’re here. I didn’t get out before because I thought he might still be waiting for me.”

  Finn got on to the dispatcher at the station house and spoke to Officer Carley, whom they all knew well. “We need to find Mitch Halpern,” he said. “You know, Dr. Mitch?” Carley kept it short and efficient and assured him she’d get the local doctor over there fast.

  Waves of tremors shook Emma. She heard the sound of many approaching feet and voices, breathless, high voices. And Lobelia Forestier’s rose above them all.

  “Is she dead? Has Emma been murdered? Was she raped? If Matt Boudreaux had done his job properly in the past, this wouldn’t be happening now.”

  “Can it, Lobelia,” Sabine Webb said. “You’re embarrassin’ all of us.”

  “You doin’ okay, Emma?” Ona asked.

  “I am,” Emma said.

  She saw a pair of extremely high, gray ankle boots, gorgeous legs and a deep green swishing skirt. Delia Board was there, of course. Ignoring her knees and her hose, she got down beside Finn.

  A police car, lights flashing, rolled in, passed Finn’s car and stopped. Chief Matt Boudreaux got out, leaving the door open, and Officer Clemens came at a trot.

  “No,” Emma said. “Not the police, please. He told me not to tell anyone. He said he’d make sure our baby died, if I did. And me.”

  “Who told you not to tell anyone?” Lobelia said. “What did he do to you?”

  Cold, the sweat on his body abruptly icy, Finn looked into Emma’s face and said quietly, “He won’t get near you again.”

  “What happened here?” Matt Boudreaux asked.

  “I think some guy was drunk,” Emma said, keeping her voice strong. “He threatened me. I’m moving out from the truck now.”

  “Don’t,” Finn said. “Please, cher, just stay where you are.”

  “Take it easy,” Matt said. “Tell me what went on. Take it slowly.”

  “This is what happens when the police chief is too young,” Lobelia said. “We need someone with experience in the job. Every woman in this town is in danger of being raped in her bed. We’d better all make sure we lock our doors.”

  “Can it, Lobelia,” Sabine Webb said again.

  “I’ll have to ask you ladies to move along,” Matt said. “The aid car’s comin’ and you’re in the way.”

  “The idea!” Lobelia said. “Don’t you forget who pays your wages, young man. If you don’t want to lose that cushy job of yours, you’ll watch your tongue.”

  Finn glanced at Delia who shook her head slightly. “Emma, how are you feeling? What hurts, darling?”

  “I’m going to be fine,” Emma said. She planted an elbow and pushed herself out from beneath the pickup. She smiled at Delia and whispered, “See if you can get Lobelia out of here. Sabine will help.”

  “Consider it done,” Delia said and stood up. She flapped her arms at Lobelia. “This is too much for you. Much too much. I insist we go back inside and have some coffee. With a little something stronger in it.”

  “I’ve got just the thing,” Ona said. “It’s my own special recipe for shock.”

  Lobelia tutted.

  “I insist,” Delia said, and the four women headed back toward Out Back.

  “Where the hell’s the aid car?” Matt asked, and more flashing lights appeared as if he’d summoned them. “Well…well, we’ve got a good portion of the police force. But I want medics.” Another cop car pulled in, followed by a dark-colored Prius.

  “The aid car could have been called to an emergency,” Emma said.

  Matt opened his mouth and Finn as good as heard that the other man intended to say that this was an emergency. “Good thing everything’s under control here,” Finn said quickly. “Rusty’s arrived. I don’t think we want a whole lot written about this in the papers, at least not yet. Whoever did this needs to be cau
ght, not scared off.”

  Rusty Barnes ran the local newspaper and he was also a close friend of Finn and Emma.

  The arms that closed around Emma were the only ones she wanted to feel. She looked up at Finn, into his dark, troubled eyes, and he managed a half-hearted grin. “Sit still,” he said. “When I get you home I’m keeping you there. You’re too dangerous to be out. What have you got on your feet? You’ve got to wear sensible shoes.”

  Emma just listened to him and kept her head on his shoulder.

  Rusty arrived. He had a camera slung over one shoulder. Like most very-small-town newspapers, The Pointe Judah News didn’t run to many employees. In fact, Rusty and two production people were it.

  “Emma?” he said, dropping down beside her. “What’s happened? You okay? Finn?” Anxiety tightened his voice.

  “Can we talk about it when we get back home?” Finn said, looking straight into Rusty’s eyes. “I’m going to ask you for a favor. Please don’t write about this.”

  Rusty nodded, showing immediate understanding, then backed off to give them room. “You bet.”

  “Emma,” Matt said. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened to you?”

  “Yes.” She suddenly wanted to. She wanted that man arrested. “A man waited for me out here—in that line of trees. He said horrible things about my baby getting killed. And me. He talked about…he talked about something that happened before and he was angry because he said I’d forgotten it, only I haven’t.”

  “What was he talking about?”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “Denise Steen and how she died such a horrible death. He said everyone’s forgotten her and I’m just getting on with my life like she never lived. I didn’t expect that to be brought up again.”

  Finn’s arms tightened around her but he didn’t interrupt. Denise Steen had been murdered in Pointe Judah two years ago. He and Emma had found the body.

  Clemens was taking notes.

  “So he threatened you and took off?” Matt said.

  “He chased me,” Emma said in a small voice. “I was almost to my car but I knew I shouldn’t try to get in with him so close. I think he would have driven away with me.”