Devil's Nightmare: Premonitions (Devil's Nightmare, Book 2)

by Robert Pruneda

  “He’s dead. I get it. There ain’t nothin’ I can do about that. People die every day.”

  Aaron widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Not quite the response I expected from someone whose friend was just murdered.” He lowered the corners of his mouth and shrugged. “But then maybe he wasn’t a friend after all. I mean tossing Randy in the lake and leaving him there stuck in the mud? Damn, that’s just cold. It’s not something I would think a friend would do. And all because he wouldn’t smoke a joint with you?”

  “Who told you that? Kevin?” Peter stood and pointed at Aaron. “I told you I didn’t smoke any weed, and I’m not answering any more of your stupid questions.”

  “Sit down, Peter,” Principal Newman ordered. “Or do I need to call your father and have him join us?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” said Aaron. “What if we take a more indirect approach that doesn’t involve you incriminating yourself?”

  Peter dropped into the chair. “And what do you mean by that?”

  “Let’s say I wanted to buy some pot in this town.” Aaron held his palm outward before Peter could say anything. “I know. You don’t smoke it, but maybe you know someone who does. And maybe you overheard that someone talk about where he gets it.”

  Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t help you. I don’t smoke pot, and I don’t know nobody who does.”

  “Okay, fine.” Aaron rose from his chair. “If that’s the way you want to play it, we’ll do it the hard way.” He nodded to Principal Newman, who then picked up her phone and started dialing.

  “Who you calling?”

  “Your father.”

  “No, don’t,” Peter pleaded. “Don’t call him.”

  Principal Newman stopped dialing. She pressed her finger against the switch and held it there. “Does that mean you’ll tell Mr. Sanders what he wants to know?”

  Aaron grabbed the plastic cup from the desk. “Or would you rather pee in a cup?” He gave the cup a little shake. “I think we both know how that will turn out.”

  Peter frowned and shifted his eyes between Aaron and Principal Newman. “I only know his nickname.”

  Principal Newman released her finger from the switch and replaced the receiver back on the cradle.

  “Okay, I’m listening.” Aaron pulled his phone out of his pants pocket. “What’s the name?”

  “He goes by D.C.” Peter rubbed his sweaty palms over his thighs. “That’s all I know.”

  Aaron showed Peter a photo of Daniel Corbin on his phone. “Is this him?”

  “Yeah, that’s the dude. I swear I ain’t gonna buy any of that crap from him again.”

  “I’m sure you won’t, Peter.”

  “So, are we done then? Can I go now?” Peter got up from his chair. “I gotta be somewhere.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Ain’t none of your business. That’s where.”

  “You will show Mr. Sanders some respect,” Principal Newman said. Her voice was stern and her eyes narrow.

  “No, he’s right.” Aaron raised his index finger. “But I do have one more thing. Then you can go.”

  “Okay.”

  Aaron showed him a photo of Cody. “You know this kid?”

  Peter eyed Aaron and wrinkled his forehead. “Yeah, I know him. He’s your kid or somethin’, right? Why do you want to know?”

  “I think you know why.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Really?” Aaron turned to the principal. “What’s the policy on bullying at Lee Hauser Middle School?”

  “We have a zero tolerance policy. Peter, have you been harassing Cody?”

  He stared at Aaron for a long fifteen seconds, stepped away from him, and opened the door. Aaron spread his hand against it and pushed it shut. “Answer the question.”

  “I don’t know what you heard, but I ain’t done nothin’ to nobody.”

  “Of course you haven’t. Just like you don’t smoke weed?” Aaron raised his eyebrows.

  “If anybody’s being a bully, it’s you.”

  Aaron laughed at Peter’s bold accusation. “Yeah, I think we’re done here. For now.” He opened the door and formed a faux smile. “Stay out of trouble, okay?” Then he pointed his index finger at the teenager and raised an eyebrow. “And don’t do drugs.”

  Principal Newman shut the door behind Peter and glared at Aaron. “What was that all about?”

  “Exactly what you think it was,” Aaron said, while watching Peter through the interior office window. “I would keep a close eye on that one.”

  †

  Daniel Corbin sat on his living room couch and removed a thin sheet of wheat straw rolling paper from a small metal container. He set the paper on the coffee table next to a plastic bag full of marijuana cigarettes and popped the lid off an orange plastic medicine bottle. He tapped it over the rolling paper, making sure to distribute the ground cannabis greens and herbal smoking mixture evenly for an unfluctuating burn. He picked up the paper and rolled the mix back and forth until he’d dispersed it well and had the marijuana mix tubular in shape.

  Just as Daniel positioned a cigarette roach made from his probation officer’s business card—for the butt of the marijuana joint—someone banged on the front door. He peeked through the living room window blinds.

  “Crap!” he said under his breath. It was his probation officer and two cops he recognized from the park. In a panic, he gathered his supplies and stuffed them underneath the cushion of his black leather couch. There was another bang on the door. He made a quick survey of the room to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. One more sweep with his eyes determined he was good to go.

  He answered the door with a smile. “Hey, Miss Hathaway. I thought our home visit was scheduled for next week.”

  “We’re here about something else, Mr. Corbin. May we come inside?”

  “Um… Yeah, sure.” Daniel stepped aside and let his probation officer and the two lawmen inside the small apartment. “Can I get you anything? I’ve got some sodas in the fridge.”

  “We’re fine, thank you,” the probation officer said, while closing the door.

  Daniel’s apartment living room had high quality furniture and expensive electronics. He had a large television mounted on the wall, a premium surround sound system, and two video game consoles.

  “You live here by yourself?” the older of the two cops asked. Daniel glanced at the name tag and shield on the man’s chest. Sanders, a lieutenant. He was the guy that had questioned him at the park. Made him real nervous too.

  “Um… Yeah, I do.”

  Lieutenant Sanders bobbed his head while he surveyed the room. “I’m impressed. For an unemployed guy, you sure have some nice things.”

  “I wasn’t always unemployed,” he said, scratching the back of his hand. “And I get disability.”

  “At your age?” Lieutenant Sanders said, turning his attention back at Daniel. “What are you getting disability for?”

  “My back,” Daniel pressed his hand against the lower section just above his belt. “Messed it up in a car accident.” He twitched his head and changed the subject. “I’m sorry, is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Mr. Corbin,” Miss Hathaway said, “you only have a couple of months left on probation. And you’ve managed to stay out of trouble, pass your urinalysis tests, and follow your rules, to the best of my knowledge.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I plan to move to San Antonio or Austin after I get off. I want to try to find some steady work there. Maybe even in Colorado.” Daniel eyed the younger cop in the room. He noticed the way he had slightly rolled his eyes. “I’m also thinking about registering for some online classes to get a degree in business.”

  “Oh, yeah?” the cop said. “What type of business?”

  “Don’t know yet, but I’ve always wanted to have my own business.”

  “And entrepreneurship is booming in Colorado right now,” Lieutenant Sanders said.
Was that sarcasm in his voice? “Looking at getting into the marijuana business? I mean, legally.”

  Yeah, definitely sarcasm. Daniel hesitated before he answered. “No, I-uh… I just thought it’d be nice to live near the mountains.”

  The Lieutenant smirked and tilted his head back a little. “So, you never even thought about it? I mean, hell, if I lived in Colorado and wasn’t a cop, I’d probably open up my own shop. How about you, Scott?”

  The younger cop shrugged and lowered the edges of his mouth. “Why not? Personally, I think they should legalize it Texas. It sure would free up the jails and bring in some tax dollars for the state.”

  “Hell, if I were you, Mr. Corbin, I’d think about it.” Lieutenant Sanders held his palm out to Daniel’s probation officer. “I mean, move to Colorado and open up a legal marijuana shop.”

  Daniel wrinkled his forehead and glanced back and forth between his probation officer and the two lawmen. He rubbed the tops of his hands and lowered his jaw a little. “I’m-uh. I’m confused. You’re cops. Why would you tell me to break the law?”

  “Who said anything about breaking the law?” The Lieutenant placed a hand over his chest. “I would never suggest that. We’re talking about Colorado. You know, where it’s completely legal. And Sergeant Henderson was only expressing his opinion. Besides, you have a ton of experience. I’m sure you’d be very successful with opening up a shop in Colorado. Probably make a killing too.”

  “Wha?” Daniel held a baffled look with one side of his upper lip curled upward and his mouth slightly agape.

  “I’m talking about selling weed, Mr. Corbin.” His tone changed and the expression on the man’s face said he wasn’t joking around. What was Lieutenant Sanders getting at?

  “I’m not selling drugs, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Daniel’s voice was constricted, nervous as hell. “That’s what I got busted for, but I haven’t done it since. I’m clean. Honest.”

  “You expect me to believe that you bought all this with disability checks?” Lieutenant Sanders made an outward arcing motion with his hand. “How much did that leather couch cost? A couple of grand? And that?” He pointed to the television on the wall. “Is that one of those new Ultra HD televisions? That had to have set you back at least another three or four grand.”

  “The television was a gift from my parents, and the couch is a rental,” Daniel said, his arms crossed. His voice was firm. “And I don’t appreciate you making accusations. So unless you have any proof, then I’m going to—”

  “Oh, you mean like an eighth-grader who admitted to buying marijuana from you? Selling drugs to a minor is a serious offense, Mr. Corbin.”

  “Whoever that kid is, he’s lying. I’ve never sold drugs to any kids.”

  Lieutenant Sanders looked down at the coffee table in front of the couch. Daniel noticed it too, a torn business card and a small dusting of green in the grooves of the table decoration. The Lieutenant lifted the business card from its edges. “’Allison Hathaway, Supervisor, Lost Maples County Adult Probation Department.’ Making marijuana roaches with your probation officer’s business card is a nice touch.” He tossed the torn business card onto the table. “I’m only going to ask you this one time, Mr. Corbin, and only one time. Are you making marijuana joints and selling them to kids?”

  Sergeant Henderson set a document on the table. “Mr. Corbin, this is a warrant to search your apartment. If I were you, I’d come clean right now. If not, we’re going to turn this place upside down. If we find drugs, then it’s going to be a heck of a lot worse for you.”

  “And we already have a witness that will testify that you sold marijuana to him,” Lieutenant Sanders added.

  Daniel looked at his probation officer and heaved a sigh. He faced the ceiling. “Son of a...” He pressed his lips tight, sighed again, and pointed to the couch. “It’s under the middle cushion.”

  Lieutenant Sanders nodded toward the couch. “Get it. And slowly.”

  Both lawmen held their hands over their guns while Daniel lifted the cushion and pulled out a bag of marijuana supplies and ready-to-sell joints. Lieutenant Sanders put on a pair of latex gloves and examined the contents. He counted nineteen marijuana cigarettes. The plastic medicine bottle had a small amount of cannabis grinds, enough to make maybe two or three more joints. “Where’s the rest?”

  “That’s it. That’s all I have.”

  He closed the bottle and set it back on the table. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Search the rest of my apartment, then. You won’t find anymore.”

  Lieutenant Sanders dropped everything back into the bag and handed it to Sergeant Henderson. He tilted his head towards the couch. “Have a seat, Mr. Corbin.”

  As Daniel sat on the couch, Lieutenant Sanders nodded to Sergeant Henderson, who then reached for his phone and stepped outside with the bag of drugs. Daniel’s face was pale, fear in his eyes. “What’s going to happen to me now?”

  “You’re going to jail, Mr. Corbin,” Miss Hathaway answered. “And you’re likely going to face revocation. At the very least, your probation will get a significant extension.”

  Daniel slouched back into his leather couch and placed both hands on his forehead. “I can’t go back to jail.”

  “Yeah, well, you should have thought about that before you decided to sell drugs,” Lieutenant Sanders said, while he removed the latex gloves and slipped them into his pocket. “And while on probation, at that. The fact that you came clean will help you some, but you’re still looking at up to six months for possession. But that’s not what you should be worried about. If you’re convicted of selling marijuana to a kid, you’re looking at a minimum of two years.”

  Daniel exhaled a heavy sigh and rubbed something underneath his shirt.

  Lieutenant Sanders pointed. “What do you have under there? A cross?”

  “No, it’s just some stupid pendant I found.” He pulled the gold chain from underneath his shirt. “It’s kind of creepy with the whole pentagram thing, but I’m into that dark gothic type stuff.”

  The Lieutenant’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed at the sight of the key hanging from Daniel’s neck. “Where did you get that?”

  “I found it at the… um… on the side of the road. Over in Maple Hills Park.”

  The front door opened. Sergeant Henderson stepped inside with a female deputy. He pointed to Daniel. “That’s him on the couch,” he said to the deputy.

  “Lieutenant,” she said. “I’m here to pick up Mr. Corbin.”

  Lieutenant Sanders stared at the key pendant with the occult symbol on it hanging from Daniel’s necklace.

  “Lieutenant?” she addressed him again. “Do you need more time, or should I—”

  “No, go ahead.” He blinked his eyes and waved her forward. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes and stepped aside. The deputy read Daniel his rights and fastened steel bracelets around the young man’s wrists behind his back. Lieutenant Sanders followed them outside to the patrol car. “Where exactly did you find that pendant?” he asked Daniel.

  “At the park, near the boat ramp.”

  “I thought you said you found it on the side of the road.” He glared into Daniel’s eyes. “You removed evidence from the crime scene?”

  “No, of course not. It was on the side of the road inside the park.”

  “The entire park is considered a crime scene, Mr. Corbin.” He nodded Sergeant Henderson over. “This dumbass removed evidence from our crime scene. Would you take that necklace and log it into evidence for me?”

  “How was I supposed to know?” Daniel said. “I found it before any of you guys showed up.”

  The Lieutenant shook his head in disbelief. “Use a little common sense, man.”

  Sergeant Henderson removed the necklace and placed it in an evidence bag.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I—”

  “Save it. I’m going to give you a break and not add this to your list of charges, but I want you to show me where
you found that key.” He turned to the deputy. “Do you mind escorting Mr. Corbin to Maple Hills Park before taking him in for booking?”

  “No, sir,” the deputy answered. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Actually, I’ll ride with you. Just give me a second.”

  “Okay, that’ll be fine.” She opened the right rear door and helped Daniel inside the car. “Watch your head.”

  From inside the car, Daniel Corbin watched Lieutenant Sanders and Sergeant Henderson discussing something. Then Lieutenant Sanders called out and waved Henderson over to him. Their voices were muffled, but he could hear the conversation.

  “I’m going to ride with Dilbecky,” Lieutenant Sanders said. “Could you get that key dusted for prints for me?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Sergeant Henderson said, and then stopped his superior before he got into the passenger’s seat of the patrol car. “You’ve seen that pendant before, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I have,” he said, and shut the door.

  †

  Spots on the stone and sand-mixed gravel road turned a dark brown with every drop of light rain. Aaron looked back at the trash barrel where Daniel Corbin had discovered Randy Cunningham’s body. He used an application on his phone to determine the distance from the barrel to the location where Daniel found the pendant.

  Aaron input the estimated height of the barrel and tapped the screen to lock onto it. Then he spread his index finger and thumb until he had the barrel set between two green lines. “Twenty-nine point seven-five yards.”

  “Nifty little app you’ve got there, Lieutenant,” Deputy Dilbecky said, while holding an umbrella over both of them.

  Aaron nodded and grinned. “Yup. Got to love technology, huh? I’m starting to get the hand of this stuff.”

  “That’s like a hundred feet,” Daniel said from the back seat of Dilbecky’s car. “You see. Maybe that necklace was already there when—”

  “Whether it was already here or not doesn’t negate the fact that you took it,” Aaron said, and glanced over his shoulder. “And it’s eighty-seven and a quarter.”