Cold Chills (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller Book 3)

by Scott Langrel

  They pulled into town at a quarter till eleven. The snow had picked up again, and it had brought the wind with it. Decorations depicting Santas, snowmen, and angels, which had been affixed to the streetlamps by the town public works crew, danced and glittered in the subdued daylight. The streets were practically devoid of vehicles, but several hardy pedestrians navigated the town’s sidewalks, looking for bargains or finishing their Christmas shopping.

  Frank pulled in front of the sheriff’s station and shut the vehicle off. McCoy gave an audible sigh of relief. He helped Amanda out of the Tahoe while the deputy busied himself with their bags.

  “I’ll take the knapsack,” McCoy said quickly as Frank reached for it. “Breakable items. That sort of thing.” Looking chastised, the deputy instead took the bags containing their clothes.

  John was waiting for them in his office. He brightened at the sight of McCoy and Amanda, visible relief spreading across his broad features.

  “Am I glad to see you two,” he said. “Amanda, would you mind closing the door?”

  Amanda pushed the door shut as McCoy walked over to shake hands with the sheriff.

  “You look beat,” Amanda said as she came over to hug the big man. “Are you getting any sleep?”

  “Not much,” John admitted. “Between the weather and … the other situation, it’s been pretty hectic around here. Have a seat, guys.”

  McCoy and Amanda settled into a pair of roomy office chairs. McCoy glanced around the sheriff’s office. He liked what John had done with it. It was neat and official-looking. Gone was the fishing memorabilia which had adorned the walls when John’s predecessor, Bob Lyle, had been sheriff. McCoy was especially relieved to see that the plastic singing fish was nowhere to be seen.

  “Don’t suppose you’ve received the ME’s report on Elmer yet?” McCoy asked.

  “No, but we’ve got bigger problems. Katie Daniels was found in the alley beside Elaine’s discount this morning. Frozen stiff. From what I can tell, it must have happened a little after eight last night.”

  “My God!” Amanda gasped. “Katie was one of my regulars when I worked at Shelly’s Beauty Salon. Oh, that poor girl.”

  “This happened in the middle of town?” McCoy asked, unbelieving.

  “Yep. Right under my nose,” John replied, clearly disgusted with himself. “The ambulance just left to take the body to County.”

  “Damn,” McCoy said. “I wish I’d had a chance to examine her first.”

  “I figured I’d run you down to the alley where we found her,” said John. “See if maybe you can pick up on anything.”

  “The sooner the better. The impressions fade after a while, and I’m not sure how the snow will affect my senses.”

  “All right. We’ll head out now, if you guys are ready.”

  “I need to make a quick trip to the restroom,” Amanda said, rising from her seat. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Take your time,” John smiled. “I promise we won’t leave without you.” When Amanda had left the room, he turned to McCoy. “There’s something else. I used the fairy fire to thaw Katie out.”

  “You did what?”

  “I didn’t want to leave her standing there, and she wouldn’t fit in the vehicle. So I gave her a dose of the fire. Worked better than a microwave.”

  McCoy frowned. “You need to be careful with that stuff, at least until we can get a better handle on exactly what it is. God forbid someone saw you.”

  “No one saw anything. I just thought you should know. It might come in handy when we find whatever is doing this.”

  “Maybe,” McCoy said. “But it’s usually best to keep your cards hidden until it’s time to lay them on the table.” He adjusted his hat and leaned back in the chair. “Still no sign of the Fey?”

  John shook his head. “Not a trace. Don’t you find that a little strange? I mean, you’d think they’d be lined up to watch the show.”

  “You’d think,” McCoy agreed. “Since they’re bound by the truce not to harm anyone, they should be jumping at the chance to watch something else do it. The Fey enjoy nothing more than human suffering.”

  “Then why aren’t they around?”

  “A couple of possibilities, and neither is very appealing. The first is that they simply aren’t aware of the presence here in town.”

  “Why is that not appealing?” John asked. “At least we don’t have to put up with them.”

  “Because if the Fey don’t sense whatever it is, then I might not be able to, either.”

  “Oh. I see your point. What’s the second possibility?”

  “That they’re fully aware that something’s here, but they’re frightened of it.”

  John thought about that. “I don’t much care for that possibility. Let’s stick with the first one.”

  “No kidding,” McCoy replied.

  The office door opened and Amanda stuck her head in.

  “I’m ready when you boys are.”

  “Let’s go,” McCoy said, rising. “It’s high time we find out what’s scaring us.”

  ***

  Even in the daytime, the alley was kind of creepy. Amanda shivered as she walked down the narrow throughway, though the buildings sheltered her from the brunt of the wind’s icy sting. Unsummoned images of Katie’s final moments of life flashed through her mind, and she shook her head to dispel them.

  “Something drew Katie’s attention,” McCoy was saying. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come down the alleyway. You can’t pass through because of the block wall, so someone or something lured her here.”

  “That’s the way I figure it, too,” John agreed. “Unless something was chasing her and she ran into the alley, only to find herself trapped.”

  McCoy shook his head. “Katie would have known the alley was a dead end. If something was after her, it would have made more sense to keep running up Main Street. Your office is only a few blocks away.”

  “Good point.”

  “She wouldn’t have walked in here if she’d seen something monstrous,” Amanda mused. “Whatever it was, it must have appeared non-threatening.”

  “So we’re dealing with something that can shape-shift?” John asked.

  “Possibly,” McCoy said. “But not necessarily. Not everything evil is ugly on the outside. And not everything beautiful is good. Also, there are certain entities which can disguise themselves by reaching into your mind and tricking your eyes into seeing what they want you to see. Take the Hindu Rakshasa, for example. They scour your memories and pick out the person you trust the most, and then they make you see them as that person. They use it as bait to lure their victims close.”

  “Lovely,” John said. “So if I see you walking toward me on a lonely road some night, I guess I need to worry.”

  “Being out on a lonely road at night would be your second mistake.”

  “What would the first be?”

  “Trusting me more than anyone,” McCoy grinned. “I’m going to see if I can sense anything here. John, would you get my knapsack out of the vehicle? I must have forgotten it.”

  “No problem.” John turned and walked back toward the Tahoe.

  “Getting forgetful in your old age?” Amanda asked.

  “Must be,” McCoy said. In truth, he had sent John away because of the sheriff’s Fey heritage, which McCoy could constantly sense. He had to get John out of the immediate area so he could concentrate on whatever had been in the alley the night before.

  There was something, but it was faint and growing weaker by the minute. McCoy had never before sensed such a presence. An unexpected scent tickled at his nose—the aroma of some exotic tropical garden. The scent was somewhat familiar, but—try as he might—he couldn’t quite place it.

  “Are you wearing anything?” he asked Amanda.

  “Clothes. A coat.”

  “No, I mean like perfume. Anything flowery-smelling.”

  Amanda shook her head. “You know I don’t wear perfume. And I haven’t cha
nged brands of shampoo or anything. Why? I don’t smell anything.”

  “Just checking.” McCoy pushed his senses even further in an attempt to lock in on the weak metaphysical vibrations left over from last night’s attack. Strangely, he felt none of the overwhelming malevolence he would expect to be associated with an evil entity. Either he was missing something, or whatever had killed Katie had not done so simply for the joy of killing a human being.

  McCoy relaxed and reined his senses back. He’d found no answers, only more questions.

  “Any luck?” John asked as he returned with McCoy’s knapsack.

  “Not really,” McCoy said. “I caught a whiff of something, but it was nothing I recognized.”

  John’s crestfallen look conveyed his disappointment. He’d been hoping to get a handle on the situation quickly, before more people died.

  “He smelled flowers,” Amanda said optimistically. “That gives us somewhere to start, at least.”

  “Flowers?” John looked dubiously at McCoy.

  McCoy shrugged. “I’m just the tool, pal. You take what you can get. But the aroma was familiar. I know I’ve smelled it before.”

  “You can’t remember where?” John asked impatiently.

  “I just can’t place it. Give me a little time.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, time is something we don’t have a lot of. It’ll be dark before long, and if the pattern holds, someone will die tonight.”

  “Not if we can help it.” McCoy gave John a wink. “Come on, there’s some place we need to go.” He began walking back to the vehicle.

  “Where’s that?” John called after him.

  “Mary Lou’s. I’ve been craving one of her bacon cheeseburgers for weeks.”

  Chapter Six

  She wished for sleep, not because she was tired, but only for the chance to dream.

  Though memories were wonderful things, they were fragile. Over time, they faded, their colors hidden under layers of time like the ground under a freshly-fallen snow. Memories could also be deceitful; they could lie and distort the details. Therefore, they could not always be trusted.

  Dreams, on the other hand, were pure and honest. Though sometimes bittersweet, dreams had the ability to combine the events of the past with the unfulfilled promise of what might have been.

  She sighed as she looked out over the frozen landscape. The breath from that sigh took flight on the wind and was carried on the currents until it chanced to land on a small holly bush. The plant was instantly crystallized from leaf tip to root.

  She had dreamed once, long ago. She thought that she had also been happy, but that was merely the ghost of a memory, so it was unreliable. And then something had happened. She had lost something. She couldn’t remember what it had been, but it must have been something very important. That loss had transformed her. For good or bad, it had made her into what she now was.

  If only she could dream, she might once again discover what had been taken from her. It was a knowledge that she thirsted for, something that she would give her very existence to learn. But it was elusive, and would not be lured like the people of the town.

  Though the sun was hidden, tucked away behind the snow-filled clouds, she sensed that it would be dark soon. The time to hunt would soon be upon her.

  Someone, somewhere, would feel the icy kiss of her breath before dawn.

  ***

  Several times during the past year, the issue of moving back to Shallow Springs had come up between Amanda and McCoy. Amanda knew that McCoy missed his hometown; in truth, she missed her home on Clairbourne Lake. With the truce with the Fey now in effect, Amanda argued that it wouldn’t be as dangerous for them to relocate.

  McCoy, however, was steadfastly against the idea. The Fey, he maintained, were not the reason he could not move back to Shallow Springs.

  The real reason was Mary Lou’s. Having constant access to the diner’s bacon cheeseburgers and chili cheese fries would result in McCoy gaining at least five-hundred pounds.

  Even Big John, whose appetite was the fodder of local legends, could only sit and watch in awe as McCoy polished off his food with all the finesse of a starving wolf. Amanda, who was by now accustomed to the bottomless pit which was Finn McCoy, nonetheless shielded her face in embarrassment.

  When McCoy finally came up for air, he looked at John and asked, “How many deputies do you have?”

  “At the present time, six. Did they hollow out that leg of yours when you broke it?”

  “Huh?”

  “Just wondering where all that food is going.”

  “Hey, I’m a growing boy. How many can you have on duty tonight?”

  John thought about it. “Three, maybe four. We’ve all been working overtime since the storm hit, and I’ve got to have at least two fresh people for the day shift tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Pick four. Counting you and me, that’ll give us six people to patrol the town tonight.”

  “What about me?” Amanda asked.

  “You’ll be with me, so you don’t really count.” Even before Amanda’s face began to cloud, McCoy realized that he’d messed up. “What I mean is, we’re a team. We count as one.”

  “Nice save,” John chuckled.

  “Nice try,” Amanda corrected. “I can take care of myself, big boy.”

  “Of course you can,” McCoy said. “But you’ll also have to take care of me. This cold weather has my leg acting up.”

  “Bullshit,” Amanda scoffed. “Your leg isn’t the problem. It’s all the crap your full of.”

  “Either way, he’s right,” John said. “Me and my guys are all trained law enforcement personnel. You two need to stay together.”

  “You’re just taking his side because—it’s a guy thing,” Amanda pouted.

  John raised his hands in a protest of innocence. McCoy shot him a look of gratitude.

  “Since both of the attacks have happened in the town proper, that’s the area we’ll concentrate on,” McCoy said. “Have your people be on the lookout for anything even slightly out of place. If you see any citizens wandering around outside, shoo them back indoors. And if anyone absolutely has to be out, one of us should be with them.”

  “Okay,” John agreed. “What do I tell my guys to do if they spot something?”

  “Tell them to call you. Then you call me. Under no circumstances should they attempt to engage anyone or anything they deem suspicious.”

  “What about you? Did you bring a gun?”

  “I’ve got the nine under my jacket. But it probably won’t do much good. My real weaponry is in the knapsack, and my walking stick. Though I suspect the stick is pretty much useless against all but the Fey.”

  “We’ve got a few hours until dark,” John said. “You want to get some sleep before tonight?”

  “Might be a good idea. Will you drop us off at the Pines Motel?”

  “I most certainly will not. You all can bunk with me. I have an extra room.”

  “Oh, John,” Amanda said. “That’s sweet of you, but we don’t want to put you out.”

  “You won’t be. Like I said, I have the room. And it’ll save a lot of phone calls if we’re under the same roof.”

  “Well, if you insist,” McCoy said. “We’ll try to catch a little sleep and be ready to start by six or so.”

  “Sounds good. Ya’ll ready to go?”

  “That depends,” McCoy replied.

  “On what?”

  “On whether that’s apple cobbler I see in that display case, or peach.”

  Amanda and John both sighed at the same time.

  ***

  Jessica Stillman was angry. Mostly, this stemmed from the fact that she was a fourteen-year-old girl, an age at which most females endure a constant state of irritation due to parents, boys, and pretty much everything else.

  Specifically, however, Jessica was mad because she was grounded. Because of her stupid parents, she was going to miss Hailey Nash’s party. Everyone who was anyone was going to be
there; the simple fact that she’d been invited had Jessica walking in the clouds. And now she was going to miss it. Her social status would be destroyed, and her life would be over. All because of her parents. And the stupid snow.

  Jessica had exhausted her arsenal of weapons. She had asked nicely. She had tried to bargain. She had pleaded, pleaded harder, and had then thrown a world-class fit. And she was no closer to going than she had been when she started. Her parents had calmly explained that the weather was too bad and the roads were too slick to travel in anything short of an emergency.

  What her senile parents failed to grasp was that this was an emergency. The remainder of her high school career (and the rest of her life, as far as Jessica was concerned) hinged on attending the party. If she went, a glorious and carefree future awaited her. If not, she’d end up a bag lady living out of a cardboard box under a bridge, a pathetic figure shunned by respectable society. Jessica couldn’t understand why her parents couldn’t see that.

  Alone in her room, Jessica came to realize she’d made a grave mistake by asking in the first place. It was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission. Well, it was never too late to rectify a mistake, and Jessica had come up with a plan of action.

  The party started at seven. Since Hailey lived only a few blocks away, Jessica could easily make the trip on foot in ten or fifteen minutes. Dinner was usually ready by five-thirty and over with by six. So, after dinner, Jessica would beg off to her room, claiming to be sleepy or ill. She would then dress, sneak out of her bedroom window, and arrive at Hailey’s in plenty of time. The party was supposed to last till nine, and by nine-thirty Jessica would be back in her bed.

  There was always the chance that her parents would check in on her and discover the ruse, but her parents didn’t retire until around ten, so there was a pretty good chance that her absence would go undetected. Even if they caught her, she would gladly suffer through a few weeks of punishment in order to assure her social status for the next several years.