Skunk Man Swamp

by P. D. Workman

  “It’s possible that he doesn’t want to go back.”

  “He would have gone back if he could,” Damon insisted. “I’ve talked to his family. I know he would have. He left a wife and children. Something must have happened to keep him here. If this guy you saw is really Wilson.”

  “He was. Look at your picture and compare him with the guy that—” She broke off. “Okay, you never saw him or paid any attention to him. But I’m telling you, he’s the guy. Corvin thinks so, don’t you?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth, Regina. I’m not saying that he is, and I’m not saying that he isn’t. I don’t know.” He rubbed his chin. “Hopefully, he’s still at the hotel. That would make things much easier. We could get this cleared up tonight.”

  But Reg knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  Trying to get details from the front desk at the hotel was like pulling teeth. They didn’t know whether Wilson had registered under his own name and they didn’t have a current picture of him to show to the clerk at the desk. They couldn’t very well show him a fifty-year-old picture and hope that he recognized the man they were looking for.

  Reg tried to describe him physically, explained that she had seen him at the mermaid show the night before, but said that he had left suddenly and she didn’t realize until later that he had left his credit card on the table. So she clearly needed to track him down before he had to cancel his card.

  “Oh…” A look of dawning comprehension spread over the clerks’ face. “The Canadian?”

  Reg looked at Damon. He nodded eagerly. “Yes, the Canadian. Is he registered here?”

  “No. That is, he was, but he checked out last night. Rather unexpectedly. Right in the middle of the mermaid show, like you said. I thought maybe he got an emergency call, had to go home for something.”

  “He didn’t say anything about why he had to leave?” Reg pressed. “Did he say where he was going?”

  “No, he didn’t say why. He just… seemed rattled. I thought it must have been bad news.”

  Reg looked at the others. She couldn’t think of anything else to ask him. They had a line on Wilson, but it was tenuous. Reg knew what he looked like now, so that would help her to find him. So would the fact that she had now seen him a couple of times. If she’d really had his credit card or something else of his, that would have helped.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll just hang on to his card, and if you see him or hear from him, you can give me a call?”

  He made a painstaking note and had Reg give him her phone number again. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. I’m sure once he realizes that he left his credit card here, he’ll be calling us.”

  Reg nodded. “Great, thanks.”

  They went upstairs to their rooms.

  “Can you find him again?” Damon asked. “You did once before, and now you know him better, so it should be easier. And he’s probably close by. He didn’t go back to Canada. He’s probably just in a different hotel.”

  “I’m beat tonight. I don’t have the energy to do anything.” Reg yawned. “If you want, you can call around to other hotels. If he’s registered under his own name, maybe you’ll be able to find him without any psychic services.”

  Damon’s expression took on a slightly different cast, and Reg knew immediately what he was thinking. “No, that wouldn’t get you out of paying me half the reward. You wouldn’t know where to find him if I hadn’t already done all of this work. Just because I can’t find him until I’ve had some sleep, that doesn’t mean I didn’t help.”

  “Yes,” he sighed. “You’re right.”

  Reg looked over at Corvin. “You heard him. I’ve still earned my fee.”

  Corvin nodded. “I’ll be your witness,” he agreed wryly. “If he tries to renege on the deal.”

  Damon’s mouth twisted into a snarl that he tried to smooth out. “I’m not going to renege on anything. I keep my promises.” He aimed his sneer in Corvin’s direction. “Unlike some other people.”

  “When have I broken a promise?” Corvin protested.

  Reg and Damon both just looked at him. Corvin rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Yes, fine. But it really shouldn’t count when it is instinctive behavior.” He gave Reg a penetrating look. “Am I right?”

  “I… don’t know. I haven’t figured that out yet.” Reg looked away from him, not wanting to discuss it. Damon didn’t know the details of her reaction to water, and she would prefer that he not find out.

  “I’m going to bed. If you guys want to make calls to the hotels, then go ahead, but I’m wiped out and I’m going to sleep.”

  “It’s early,” Corvin protested. “You’re not going to go to sleep this early. You won’t be able to.”

  “That might work if Damon hadn’t gotten me out of bed before first light. Let me sleep until noon, and I won’t go to sleep before three in the morning, but what time was it when you got me up? Five?”

  “Closer to six.”

  “That’s crazy. No one gets up that early. Except maybe bakers. And I’m not a baker.”

  “Clearly not,” Damon agreed, chuckling. “Lots of people get up at six.”

  “Before six?”

  “Well, some. Maybe not a lot, but… some people.”

  “Crazy people. Not psychics.”

  “Why not psychics?”

  “Because psychics do seances at midnight or later.”

  “Ah.” Damon shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  “Most magical practitioners prefer the hours of darkness,” Corvin told Damon pointedly. “Most of us do not have nine-to-five jobs.”

  Reg figured this was meant as a dig against Damon about the way that serious witches and warlocks worked. Damon’s security work did tend to be daytime work rather than nighttime work. But Reg knew that Davyn had a daytime office job as well, and he was the head of Corvin’s coven. It couldn’t be very uncommon. Most of the practitioners she was familiar with had conventional jobs as well as whatever magic they practiced. Other than those who were retired, like Sarah.

  “I’m going to bed,” she repeated, folding her arms, waiting for them to leave.

  “Oh.” Damon got it. “Got it. Good night.”

  He headed toward the door. Corvin lingered, as Reg had known he would. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Regina?” He leaned closer to her, his warm breath on her face. The scent of roses started to waft toward her. “Whatever I can do to help you to relax and regenerate so that you’re ready to go tomorrow…”

  “I’m relaxed enough without your help. Good night.”

  He gave her another moment to change her mind, then complied, leaving her alone in her hotel room.

  Reg decided on a warm bath before bed. Before long, she found her eyes drooping as she soaked. She climbed out of the tub, pulled on some night clothes, and slid into bed.

  And then lay there awake.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  It was one of those nights when no matter what Reg did, she couldn’t find sleep until she gave up on the plan of ever being able to go to sleep that night and then fell into restless dreams, knowing that morning was only an hour or two away and she would have to get up again. She dreamed of being in the swamp again, running away from goblins and cats and Canadians. She didn’t know which way to go, where the danger was coming from. She kept waking up, looking at the gradually brightening window, and then falling asleep again, too exhausted to do anything else.

  When Damon called, she was in the shower, trying to wake herself up. Sleep had just made her more tired. But she’d at least had a break and a rest from using her powers. While tired, she figured she could still use her psychic powers to try to track down Wilson. Find the Canadian wizard, convince him to go back to Black Sands with them to participate in the Spring Games, and then she could relax, and it wouldn’t matter whether she slept or didn’t sleep for the next week.

  “You up?” Damon asked, hearing the noise of the shower in the background.

  Reg wiped
her dripping face with the towel. “Yeah, I’m up.”

  “Great. Breakfast and then we can look for Wilson?”

  “Coffee. I don’t know about breakfast.”

  “Coffee, then. Or do you want to combine your drink and your work and read tea leaves?”

  “Nope. Need the heavy-duty stuff today.”

  “We’ll bring some up. So you don’t want anything to eat? Toast? Eggs?”

  “No. I don’t eat this early.”

  It was only a couple of minutes before Corvin and Damon were at her door. Damon handed her a Starbucks cup. Reg inhaled the vapor.

  It was in the morning that she was most aware of Starlight’s absence. The cat always wanted her to get up before she was ready, and then was always underfoot and demanding to be fed. She missed him and wondered how he was. Francesca hadn’t called her to let her know there was anything wrong, so she had to assume that he was fine. When she was done, he would be at home waiting for her to return.

  She took a sip of the hot, bitter coffee and nodded. “Great. This should get the engine going.”

  “How did you sleep?” Corvin asked, giving her a sideways look.

  She glared at him. “You put some kind of curse on me when you said I wasn’t going to be able to get to sleep early. I was exhausted. That was a nasty thing to do.”

  “It wasn’t a curse.”

  “The power of suggestion, then. You shouldn’t have said that.”

  He shrugged, looking smug.

  They all sat down, sipping coffees and pretending that they weren’t covertly looking at the time, wondering when they were going to get started. Reg pushed her coffee away when it was only half-finished. She blew out her breath.

  “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  “What are you going to do?” Damon asked. “Did you bring your crystal ball?”

  “No. I’m just going to… do like I did when I felt him in the Skunk Man Saloon. Just try to reach out and locate him.”

  Damon nodded.

  Corvin watched Reg with keen interest. He was attracted to her powers, so watching her using them, or feeling it, clearly whetted his appetite. Reg shifted uneasily away from him. Damon was there, and he wouldn’t let Corvin do anything, or he would at least try to stop him. But Corvin’s powers were much greater than Damon’s, and Reg worried that even she and Damon together would not be strong enough to stop Corvin if he let his hunger get the better of him.

  “Should you be in here?” she asked.

  Corvin raised an eyebrow. “Why not? I’m part of this team. I have been helping all along. Why would you suggest kicking me out of the room now?”

  “Because… you look hungry.”

  Corvin chuckled, but didn’t deny it. Reg looked at Damon for support. “Watch him, right?”

  Damon nodded. “I will. You don’t need to worry about him. Just stay calm and do your thing.”

  Reg looked at Corvin one more time. But she needed to focus on Jeffrey Wilson if she were going to find him. She had been so close the last time. If she had only known back then that he didn’t look like the wizened old man Damon had put into his fake vision, she might have had the chance to persuade him to go to the Spring Games the very first day.

  She closed her eyes and rested her hands on her knees, palms up. She focused on her third eye and built the picture of Wilson in her head again. The original photograph, then how the little girl had said he looked, and then the face and body Reg had seen on two occasions. She meditated on his name.

  Wizard Jeffrey Wilson. Canadian. Wandering in the Everglades for fifty years.

  Why? Because of the illness that the little girl had mentioned? Giant sickness?

  She pulled away from the question and focused on what she knew. She had studied the maps of the Everglades several times, and she pictured a big map now, with all of its intricacies. She mentally marked the places she had been. Then the places she knew that Wilson had been. He’d probably been everywhere in the swamp over the years, but she stuck with the ones that she knew.

  A pulsing started in the middle of the map. At first, it was barely visible. Just a fuzzy area on the map that began to throb like a heartbeat. But it wasn’t in time with her heart. Was it the location of the wizard?

  Reg studied the map, noting the nearby markings. As she looked and studied, the dot became more clear. Red, with a defined size, blinking on and off. Reg grew more confident in it. She fixed the location in her mind, breathed deeply, making sure that she really knew it and it would be fixed in her mind.

  She opened her eyes.

  Damon looked at her expectantly. “Well…?”

  “Yeah. I saw a location on a map.”

  “Hallelujah. Close by? If he was here yesterday, then he probably hasn’t gone too far.”

  Reg nodded. “Yeah. Not too far. By the downed plane.”

  Damon looked at her, then looked at Corvin. His eyes went back to Reg. “Downed plane? What downed plane?”

  “You said that there had been plane crashes in the Everglades, didn’t you? Or was that Corvin?” Reg looked at Corvin and shrugged. “So, of course there are downed planes.”

  “Yes. But when they are discovered, the wreckage isn’t left there. They are retrieved.”

  Reg looked at him. “Okay. But… that doesn’t mean that they have all been discovered.”

  “Of course not. But how are we going to find a wreck that hasn’t been discovered?”

  “The same way I’m going to find a wizard who has been missing fifty years.”

  Corvin rubbed the space between his brows. “Okay… fair enough.”

  Reg rolled her eyes.

  “So, what do we need?” Damon asked. “A boat, I assume. A guide.”

  “A boat driver,” Reg clarified. “I don’t want a tour guide who thinks he knows where I want to go. I want someone who will follow directions.”

  Damon nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll… see who I can find that will fit the bill.”

  “We’ll all go,” Reg said, eyeing Corvin again. She didn’t want to be left with him. “Then we won’t waste any time going back and forth.”

  Corvin didn’t voice any objection. Reg gathered her purse and whatever she thought she might need. She was pretty proud of herself for already being dressed when the warlocks had made it up to her room. Usually, it took a considerable length of time for her to get her proper clothes on, traipsing around half the day in her nightwear, towel, or robe. She looked around the room.

  “Should we pack and check out? We shouldn’t need to stay here another night.”

  “Let’s hold off on that,” Damon hedged. “We don’t know yet what’s going to happen today. It may take longer than you think. We might still need a place to stay tonight. Then we can head back to Black Sands in the morning.” He checked his watch. “In time to get Wilson registered in the Games.”

  “And collect our reward.”

  Damon nodded.

  Reg grinned. She liked the part about collecting their reward. And now that she had located Wilson, she was sure it was in the bag.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  It took longer than expected to get a driver that Reg approved of. They all seemed to be good ol’ boys who thought that they knew everything and that Reg should just sit back and let them take her on a tour of the most interesting places in the Everglades. Even those who said that they would take her where she wanted to go still thought they knew better than she did, and Reg didn’t want to have to deal with their oppressive attitudes while trying to get a fix on Wilson. And that meant it was almost noon before they even stepped onto the boat.

  “It might be a late start, but this time we know where we’re going,” Reg insisted when Damon looked like he was at the end of his rope because it was taking so long.

  “Yeah.”

  He could stay back at the hotel with his doubts too. Reg had difficulty pushing her feelings down and keeping quiet about it. It was Damon’s gig. His contract. Not hers. Not Corvin’s. Damon ca
st the single vote.

  They all settled into their seats. Reg sat closest to the driver and gave him instructions as they drove out into the open water. If the boggy, grassy river could be called open water.

  “Where exactly are we going?” the driver asked, hands resting lightly on the instruments.

  “I’m just going to direct you.”

  “There really isn’t anything interesting in this direction. Are you a botanist?”

  “A botanist. I don’t even know what a botanist does.”

  “They come out here to study the plants. Grasses that are apparently different somehow than all of the other grasses. Little flowers and marsh plants that have special properties or are endangered species.” He shrugged. “I don’t understand all of it. I just take them where they say they have to go.”

  “Well, same with me. I’m not a botanist, but I just need you to follow my directions.”

  He nodded and kept driving, following her turn-by-turn directions.

  Until he didn’t.

  The driver shook his head when Reg pointed to a right-hand branch. “Nothing over there. It’s a dead end.”

  “That’s the way I want to go.”

  “It’s a dead-end,” he repeated. As if she hadn’t understood him the first time, and saying it more loudly would somehow get through to her. “You can’t go that way.”

  “Then I want to go into the dead-end,” she told him icily. She stared at him and held his gaze until he was the one to look away.

  “Okay,” he said finally and turned the idling boat right.

  Into the dead end. A few hundred feet into the inlet, and then Reg could see walls of swamp all around them except the way they had come in. The driver looked at her for instructions. Reg stared at the impenetrable walls of vegetation.

  “Go as far as you can,” she told him. “Right to the shore.”

  Another eye roll, and then he inched the boat forward. Damon and Corvin both stood up, trying to see whatever it was that Reg was on to.

  Except that she hadn’t seen anything. There wasn’t anything to see.