The Homecoming

by Carsten Stroud

  “You were all that I expected. And more.”

  “Yeah? Good. I got a rep, like to keep it. Tough about Deitz, hah? He was an impossible guy to control. That thing at the mall, that was pretty fucking extreme. I’ve heard about this Coker guy. Whispering Death, right? He’s taken out a whole shitload of perps.”

  “So I understand.”

  “Sit down, will ya? I don’t like people standing over me. Makes me cranky.”

  Endicott stepped back a few feet.

  “Sorry about that. People say I have a tendency to loom. I have a question, actually. It concerns Byron Deitz.”

  “Okay. Here’s me turning my meter on. Ching-ka-ching ching. Now, how may I be of assistance, Harv?”

  “Deitz transferred a substantial amount of money to an unknown recipient. I have now established to my own satisfaction who this recipient was—”

  “No shit? Who was it?”

  “Allow me to keep my own counsel. My inquiry is ongoing—”

  “Anything to do with that shoot-out up at Charlie Danziger’s ranch on Saturday afternoon?”

  “Again, I shall keep my own counsel. What I still need to know is the means by which this exchange was effected.”

  Smoles narrowed his eyes.

  “Hey. You’re still working, aren’t you? You’re still chasing that fucking bank money! You cagey old prick. I’d be careful with that. Whoever did that bank, he’s a crazy mother—”

  “I was asking about the method of transfer?”

  “Well, it was an offshore thing.”

  “Deitz never told you the details?”

  Smoles took a long swig of his gin and tonic, drained it, and let the ice drop into his mouth, where he started cracking it, with his mouth open, all the while staring up at Endicott with a sly grin on his leonine face.

  “Might have, Harv. Might well have. He dropped hints, for sure. How bad do you want to know?”

  “How badly do you want to tell me?”

  Smoles hooted at that.

  “Not too fucking badly, Harv, ’less I see something in your hand. Show me something makes it worth my while and maybe we can do business.”

  Endicott smiled down upon his broad grinning face, pulled his Sig out of the pocket of his sharkskin pants, and shot Smoles in the meaty part of his upper left thigh. Harvill Endicott was a creature of habit.

  Smoles shrieked and blew out a whole lot of ice chunks and clutched at his leg.

  “What the fuck?”

  “I’ll ask you again, Warren. How badly do you want to tell me?”

  Mr. Teague Is Now Receiving

  Lemon called Nick while Nick was driving down to the CID HQ to file some Monday afternoon paperwork. The shootings at Danziger’s house had generated more PISTOL interrogations, and the investigation into Danziger and Coker’s involvement in the Gracie robbery, and Coker’s subsequent disappearance, had drawn media in from all over the country. They were all descending on the CID HQ on Powder River Road. So Nick was headed down there, thinking about Coker and Charlie and Kate and Rainey and what Reed had said about killing Rainey if it came to a crisis, and he also had the words of a Billy Ray Cyrus song going around in his head—Where’m I gonna live when I get home—

  In other words his plate was full and what was on it wasn’t at all appealing. LEMON FEATHERLIGHT CALLING appeared on his cell screen, so he scooped the phone up and hit RECEIVE.

  “Nick, how did it go?”

  “Depends on your point of view. We still have custody of Rainey. Kate’s pleased. I’m not.”

  Lemon gave that some thought.

  “Kid went pretty far, didn’t he?”

  “Too far for me, Lemon. I’ve seen wild kids. This one is something else. You got a minute?”

  “I do. I was only calling to see how it went.”

  “Let me pull over … How’d the bone basket thing go?”

  “I’ll wait until you’re stopped.”

  A pause.

  “Okay. I’m on the shoulder.”

  “Me first?”

  “Yeah. I’m interested.”

  Lemon filled him in, just the basics, but the basics were crazy enough. Lemon ended with the connection to the old Cherokee legend about the soul-eating demon that lived in Crater Sink.

  “You buying that?” Nick asked.

  “Those things are real, that much I’m buying. How they got there, and what happened before they got there, I have no idea.”

  “Maybe your pro from UV will sort it out.”

  “She was a happy lady. Thinks there’s a Nobel Prize in it. They’re going to name the things after me, she says. One of those Latin names.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Look, there’s another thing …”

  “Okay.”

  “Remember the streetcar lady who helped me get Rainey down those stairs—”

  “Doris Godwin. A babe, you said.”

  “Yeah, that too. When we were up there she took a sort of 360-degree bunch of shots—”

  “Why?”

  “Why. Because she was scared bootless. She thought there was something out in the woods. She sent me the jpegs the next day. They’re pretty hairy, Nick. You’ll want to see them.”

  “What was in them?”

  “People. The entire forest was full of people, standing there, staring back at us. There might have been hundreds of them. Far back into the woods. Maybe even more. Maybe thousands. Just standing there, those old trees hanging over them.”

  “Like what? Ghosts? Zombies?”

  “No. Nothing like that. Citizens, that’s all. People of Niceville. People you’d see on the streets. But I’m looking at the shots, and they’re all dressed different. Style, I mean. Some old-timey, some yesterday. Mostly men, too, but a couple of older women. Some old cowboy types, even. Some soldiers, Confederate and Union. Now I’m looking, I can even see some men, look like they might be Indians. Cherokee or Creek, looking at their clothes, the way they’re painted up.”

  “Fakes?”

  “No. Doris was pretty freaked. So am I. It’s like they’re ghosts from a bunch of old-time photographs. But they’re not, are they?”

  Nick was quiet for a bit.

  “Man. It all fits.”

  “Fits what?”

  “With the general weirdness of Niceville.”

  Nick told Lemon what had happened to Reed up at Candleford House, and what he had learned from Beryl Eaton at the Archives and Records Office in Sallytown.

  “Reed saw Clara Mercer?”

  “He’s pretty convinced he did.”

  “Man. How’d he take it?”

  “Like I said. Out the window and four floors down. He’s lucky to be alive.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Believe it or not, back in an Interceptor. Marty reinstated him after the shoot-out at Charlie’s place.”

  “Still can’t believe that. Coker, I could see it, but Charlie?”

  “Well, keep the Charlie end to yourself. Charlie got shot taking a bullet for Mavis Crossfire. That oughta be worth something. I talked it over with Mavis and she thinks we may be able to work it that Coker takes the freight.”

  “Whose idea was that?”

  “Coker’s.”

  A silence.

  “Man, what a town.”

  “Niceville?”

  “Yeah. A Hell of a town.”

  “No argument from me. Lemon, I gotta—”

  “Yeah. Just one thing. Where’s Rainey now? In a clinic, maybe?”

  “On his way to WellPoint. Kate’s taking him—”

  “Kate’s alone with him?”

  “I think so. After the trial, in chambers, she and I had a blowup over the kid. I got told to leave. I left. Tig Sutter was there—”

  “She was going straight to WellPoint?”

  “That was the plan. Look, Lemon, I really gotta run. There’ll be media all over the HQ in a couple of hours. You okay?”

  Probably nothing to worry about she won�
��t go to Sylvia’s house she’ll take him to WellPoint and everything will be fine.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Whole thing has me rattled.”

  “No shit. Send me those jpegs. Talk later.”

  Lemon shut his phone down, looked at the screen, picked it up again, speed-dialed Kate’s cell.

  It rang six times and went to voice mail.

  “Kate, this is Lemon. If you get this—”

  Forget that!

  No time!

  Wherever Kate was, there was one place she could not go. Not alone, and sure as hell not with Rainey. He hit the pedal and powered out into traffic. He figured he was fifteen minutes away.

  Ten if he broke all the rules.

  He decided to break all the rules.

  Lemon parked his truck across the road from 47 Cemetery Hill. The big stone pile looked exactly the same as it had last Friday. Dappled sunlight on the slate roof, the wind sighing in the live oaks. Down the way a dog barking. The sound of the traffic on Bluebottle. Kids shouting in a backyard somewhere. Kate’s Envoy wasn’t there.

  He tried her cell again. Three rings and voice mail. Was she in the house already?

  He had to go look.

  Lemon got out of the truck and walked across the street to the foot of the driveway. The dark light was still there. He moved closer and it solidified into two separate shapes that gradually took on the form of the Shagreen brothers. They stood there, lifeless but living.

  “Is Rainey Teague here?”

  “Leave this place,” said the blond one.

  Lemon pulled out a large black Smith & Wesson and pointed it at the blond man. There was no reaction from either of them. He put a foot on the staircase. The blond came closer, becoming quite solid now. The same dappled light that was on the roof was now moving over his face and shoulders.

  “You leave now.”

  Lemon aimed the revolver at the thing’s head. He heard an engine behind him, and a woman’s voice.

  “Lemon?”

  He turned and saw Kate sitting at the wheel of the Envoy. Rainey was in the passenger seat, leaning forward so he could see Lemon.

  Lemon backed away down the driveway, but he kept the Smith in his hand. He came across to the truck, put his hands on the window frame.

  “Kate. Thank God. I was afraid I’d missed you.”

  “You look awful, Lemon. You’re white as a sheet. What’s wrong? Why do you have a gun?”

  Lemon was looking at Rainey, who was now sitting back and staring straight ahead. Still glaring at Rainey, Lemon asked, “Kate, I’ve been calling you. So has Reed. Your phone’s off.”

  “No it isn’t. It’s right here.”

  She pulled her phone out of a slot on the outside of her purse, pressed the screen.

  “It is off. I never—”

  “Rainey been alone with it?”

  Kate turned to look at Rainey, who was still staring straight ahead, breathing through an open mouth, looking pale and hungry.

  Cain was drilling through his brain.

  this one is worse than the others he can see

  “We stopped for lunch. I left him in the … Rainey, did you turn my phone off?”

  “No. I never touched it.”

  He was still staring straight ahead.

  “Why are you here, Kate?” Lemon asked. “Don’t you have to be at WellPoint?”

  “He will probably have to stay there overnight, so he wanted a few things. There’s a DVD of his parents. He thinks it’s still in the player in Sylvia’s house. Then we’re going to the clinic.”

  Lemon looked at Rainey.

  “Kate, I’m going to have to show you something. You may not be able to see it, but I think Rainey can. So may I?”

  “Certainly. What is it?”

  “You’ll see. Park the car. Come with me.”

  Lemon took Rainey by the elbow, a firm grip on the bone, and steered him toward the driveway. Kate followed a few feet behind. When Lemon and Rainey reached the bottom of the stairs, the Shagreen-shaped things came into being again. Lemon could feel Rainey’s body vibrating under his grip.

  this one can see kill him kill him he can see

  “Kate, do you see anything on the landing?”

  “On the landing?”

  “Yes. Do you see anything?”

  Kate stepped closer.

  One of the Shagreen shapes came down a step.

  Lemon put the Smith on it and said, “No.”

  Rainey was staring at it, fixed and rapt.

  yes take them now take them both

  “I can see … you’re talking to something,” said Kate. “Is it kind of a shadow?”

  “Is that all you see?”

  “Maybe there are two. The sunlight looks … like it’s bending.”

  “Rainey. Tell Kate what you see.”

  now do it now

  Rainey said nothing.

  Lemon put the muzzle of the Smith up against the side of Rainey’s head. Kate reached for his hand to pull the gun away.

  “Lemon, what are you doing?”

  “Tell Kate what you see, Rainey, or I’ll kill you right where you stand.”

  An acid smell was coming off Rainey. His breathing altered. He looked at Lemon with different eyes and smiled. When he spoke it wasn’t his voice. It was a woman’s voice.

  “they belong to us.”

  “What are they?”

  “they are guardians they’re a gift.”

  “A gift from whom?”

  “from nothing.”

  “From nothing?”

  “yes we got them from nothing at crater sink.”

  Lemon took the revolver away from Rainey’s temple.

  “What would have happened if Kate had gone up those steps?”

  said too much say nothing

  Kate came around and looked into Rainey’s face. There was nothing human in it. He opened his mouth wide and sucked in a gulp of air, held it.

  “Dear God.”

  Lemon was looking up at the things on the porch. They were staring back down at him, as still as gravestones, faces blank. The same stink was coming off them too. Even Kate could smell it now.

  She looked up at the porch. The light bent and wavered, and darkened, and then she saw the figures clearly. The Shagreen brothers, at least their shells. She turned back to Rainey, who was smiling up at her, and then to Lemon.

  “Lemon, we have to fix this.”

  Lemon’s expression was remote and cold.

  “How do you figure we can fix something like this, Kate? There’s no fixing this.”

  Kate was staring into what was in Rainey’s eyes. There was nothing in there. She was looking at nothing and dead-eyed nothing was staring back at her. It was in him and it would have to be driven out. She didn’t know if that was even possible.

  But she had to try.

  “He has to go back.”

  “To WellPoint?”

  “No. To Glynis Ruelle.”

  the harvest we can’t go there

  In Rainey’s head the voice abruptly stopped, went down deep, and hid itself. Rainey’s eyes rolled up and he dropped like a dead thing.

  Lemon caught him.

  “Kate, we have to call Nick.”

  She shook her head.

  “No,” was all she said.

  The Way Is Shut

  Delia Cotton’s rambling Victorian house on Upper Chase Run was sealed and shuttered, as it had been ever since her disappearance last spring. It spread itself out in gables and porches and galleries and glass-walled garden rooms under the blue shadows cast by ancient live oaks and towering willows. Pools of sunlight shimmered on the rolling lawn that led up to the house. The shutters on all the windows were closed tight and padlocked. The black iron gates at the bottom of the long curved drive were chained shut.

  Kate pulled the Envoy to a stop in front of the gate. Lemon got out and walked up to the chain, looked at it. Then he came back to the Envoy and got the tire iron out of the storage space un
der the rear loading deck. He went back to the gate, set the blade of the iron between the fence and the chain link, jerked it downwards. The chain snapped off and fell to the ground.

  Lemon walked the gates back and Kate rolled the Envoy up the drive, Lemon following along on foot. She stopped the truck under the lacy gingerbread roof of the portico and turned the engine off.

  Rainey had come around a while ago and was sitting up and looking at the house with a blank expression. It was as if the thing inside him had gone away and all that was left was a boy in a walking trance. Lemon came up just as Kate was stepping out of the Envoy.

  “Is he awake?” he asked.

  “His eyes are open. I’m not sure he’s in there. Can you get us inside?”

  “Sure. The trick is to do it without bringing down the security patrol.”

  Lemon walked up the stairs while Kate stood beside the truck, watching Rainey.

  “Rainey. Can you hear me?”

  Rainey looked at her.

  “You want to send us to the harvest.”

  A flat declaration without sentiment.

  And a pitch-perfect accusation.

  Rainey could still feel Cain inside his head, but the thing had gone down very deep. Rainey could feel it curled up at the base of his skull, blinking in the dark, waiting, saying nothing.

  It came to him that Cain was afraid.

  Kate ran her fingers through her hair, shook her head to clear it.

  “Rainey, did those Guardians come with you?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t smell them. I think they can’t come to this house.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  Again, no pitch or tone.

  Just a flat, emotionless statement. It was so devoid of hope or fear that Kate had to look away.

  Lemon was back.

  “Okay. How about this? The front door’s not locked. It’s shut, but not locked. I looked in. The place is boarded up, so it’s dark. But the power’s on. What do you want to do?”

  “What we came to do.”

  Lemon wasn’t happy about it. But he opened Rainey’s door and helped him down, keeping a strong grip on his left arm. Rainey was slack and silent. He offered no resistance, and that smell was gone.

  They went up the steps to the main door and walked into the hallway. It was like stepping into a jewel box. The walls and floors were polished oak. Brass sconces lined the entrance hall and a narrow Persian runner led down to the base of a broad flight of stairs. In the dim light they could make out a galleried second floor. An enormous crystal chandelier dominated the central hall.