The Evil Returned

by Richard Raven

  Chapter Six

  Jeff and Angela lived on Willow Road in a semi-rural part of the county that was, roughly, fifteen miles south and west of the Little Rock city limits. A quiet area with plenty of trees, giving it a touch of rustic isolation while still only minutes away from the city. Most of the houses were small to mid-sized and of new construction, all neat and well-tended and not jammed together. Most boasted a decent front and back yard. Those who lived in the area usually kept an eye on their neighbor’s homes and property part of the time, while minding their own business the rest of the time. Jeff loved living there and loved the little five room house they were paying off and fixing up to suit themselves when they could afford it.

  With Jeff at the wheel, they left in Angela’s burgundy Mazda two-door. They were heading for the River Market District along the southern bank of the Arkansas River in downtown Little Rock. From their home, it was all the way across town. Jeff drove leisurely; they still had plenty of time. For much of the ride, Angela said very little. As they cruised north on Broadway, Jeff glanced over at her. In the spill of passing streetlights he could see the slight frown that creased her forehead.

  He had been seeing that frown more and more lately, and he hated it. That kind of look simply didn’t belong on her face. She still isn’t happy about this and the money part of it, but she’s going through with it just to please me. That, and to help me get my mind off things. Why the hell did I let that get in the way? The least I can do is let go of it for one night and meet her half way. This was, after all, my idea.

  Jeff took one hand off the wheel, reached over and lightly stroked her leg above the knee and below the hem of her dress. Then he reached for one of her hands.

  “Love you,” he said quietly. His eyes back on the road, Jeff felt her squeeze his hand.

  “Love you, too.”

  Jeff grinned. He didn’t have to check to know that the frown was gone.

  Anthony’s lay a few blocks east of the La Harpe and Markham intersection on President Clinton Boulevard. It seemed that a larger number of people than usual had decided to step out and enjoy the glorious Friday evening. The sidewalks teamed with people; all the bars and grills and bistros along both sides of the street looked crowded, including Anthony’s. In the best of times parking was hard to come by, which was why most people opted for the trolleys that cycled through the area. Jeff had to circle the block around Anthony’s three times before finding an empty space. It took him and Angela almost thirty minutes to park, walk the block and a half to the restaurant, to get inside and for a waiter to seat them and give them menus.

  Not overly large, Anthony’s was pure elegance throughout, the lighting low; all voices hushed. Italian music drifted soft and easy through the place; even the clink of the silverware and glasses seemed appropriately subdued. Jeff reached for his menu, feeling rather underdressed, every man and woman there decked out in their finest. Hell, I can live with it if they can. He opened the menu and his eyes went a little wide. Ouch. Going to set us back more than a hundred, I see. Oh…what the hell? It’ll be worth it. He looked over the top of the flickering candle on their table at Angela seated across from him. Because she is worth it. Her menu lay untouched on the table beside one hand and she was looking around the crowded restaurant curiously. He caught her eyes.

  “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry,” he whispered.

  Angela’s face glowed and her auburn hair shone in the candlelight. “You know what I like, so you order for both of us.”

  “A little wine, maybe?”

  “Mmm, that would be nice.”

  Chapter Seven

  Across the river from Anthony’s, a man dressed all in black was walking along the sidewalk in front of the bus station when he first noticed the woman. A big man, tall and thick through the chest with a bald and bullet head, he really wasn’t paying any attention to her as she stood next to a city bus bench, a small bag at her feet.

  Just another bitch traveling the only way she could afford. Big fucking deal.

  Then she gave him the smile. A friendly smile on a pretty but tired face, a silent greeting from a stranger. He knew that most men would have seen or read nothing more in that smile and would have walked on by without a backward glance.

  The blind fucking fools that most men were.

  But he was neither blind nor a fool. He had an insight into women that most men would never have. Shit, most bastards couldn’t even dream of having it. The woman was young, not much more than twenty, if that. The man had recognized that smile for what it was. It was right there, clear as day in the streetlight shining above her. It was in the way the corners of her mouth curved up just so; the way her lips parted slightly. It was in the way her eyes turned all knowing. Her face and whole body assumed a certain quality and pose that said far more than simply, “Why, hello there, stranger.”

  So he veered casually to the right on the sidewalk, ducking out of sight behind one corner of the bus station. He assumed the air of just another nameless traveler, waiting for his bus. He peaked around the corner. The woman was still there next to the bench; now she held a cell phone in one hand, the fingers of her other pressed to her temple. He couldn’t see her face as she stared at the phone, but he didn’t have to. There was plenty else to see that told him everything he needed to know. It was like she stood there framed in a spotlight, on display, letting the whole damn world get a real good look. Only an idiot would have failed to get the message: “Hey, boys, check this out. Like the way these nice big tits of mine press so hard against this tight T-shirt? How about the way these jeans hug the curves of my hips and my tight little ass? Bet I’m the hottest package any of you losers have ever had the pleasure to see.”

  He kept an eye on her for all of five minutes, her thumb a blur as she punched at the phone for most of it. He finally looked away from her when the headlights of a car washed over him as it turned off the street in front of the terminal. The car was moving so fast that he expected it to race past him on the side street. It went past, its engine roaring, but screeched and slid to a stop a short distance away from him. It was a Mustang; a damned nice one. The driver, some skinny jerk-off with long hair, climbed out. The man in black pressed his back against the bus station’s wall, a near invisible shadow in the darkness. The driver, not much older than the bitch, strode past him without so much as a glance and joined her at the bus bench.

  Again peaking around the corner, the man watched the two of them closely.

  After a moment that looked—awkward? —between them, the guy wrapped his thin arms around the woman, lifting her off her feet a little. She resisted, getting her hands between them and pushing at his chest and shoulders.

  The man in the shadows looked away and again pressed his back to the wall, his eyes now agitated and focused straight ahead. She stands there like she can’t wait to hop on the first dick to show itself. Then some asshole shows up and grabs her up like he can’t fucking wait to take her up on the offer. Teasing and taunting the rest of us, while she waits for her stud service to get here–then she acts like she doesn’t want it. Goddamn typical of bitches like her. Of all bitches…they’re all the same. Anger flared in the depths of his guts. Only a tiny flame at first that was almost without heat. That didn’t last long; in only seconds it was white-hot and blazing furiously. He peeked around the corner again. Now the two of them were talking; he could hear their every word clearly.

  “At least tell me you’re glad to see me,” the guy said in exasperation. “After all, I’ve come a long damn way to see you.”

  “Duane, I just don’t think this is a good idea. I tried to text you and tell you that, but, obviously, you weren’t paying attention, as usual.”

  “Why is it not a good idea, Tanya? It’s a hell of a lot better idea than you running off to Dallas and not even bothering to tell me good-bye. You’ve refused to talk to me or even see me for the past several months. Talk about not paying attention.”

  “I didn’t
have any choice about it. You know about the trouble I was in with my folks and the cops. I had to get clean and I’ve got to stay that way and I can’t do that if I’m with you. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”

  “So what’s Dallas got to do with it? What the fuck’s up with that?”

  “I’ve got a job waiting for me there, and there’s a support group near where I’ll be living that will take me in. Accept it, Duane, it’s over.”

  “I can accept it a lot better if we can end it the right way—not all this silence and keeping me in the dark bullshit. I couldn’t stand it that I couldn’t see you—why the hell do you think I’ve followed you all the way from Saint Louis?”

  “What do you think is the ‘right way’ to end it?”

  “Let me take you the rest of the way to Dallas.”

  “No, Duane.”

  “Yes, Tanya. That’ll give us some time together—time to say good-bye. I’ll take you wherever you need to go and drop you off and that’ll be the end of it.”

  The man in the shadows saw the way the woman looked at skinny fuck like she didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. Well, bitch, at least you ain’t a complete idiot, I’ll give you that.

  “Come on, Tanya. Damn it, you owe me that much.”

  “Duane, are you carrying?”

  “No.”

  “Duane…”

  “I said no. Not a thing. FYI, I’m trying to get off the shit the same as you did. It took you getting into trouble with your folks and not being able to see you at all to make me realize there had to be a better way.”

  The man in the shadows watched the woman as she appeared to think it over.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “Ground rules: first, no sex. Second, you better not be carrying, because you won’t like what I’ll do about if you are, trust me on that. You take me where I tell you to, we say good-bye, I get out of the car and that’s it.”

  “Deal. Hell, that’s what I said I’d do.”

  “Okay, let me go inside and see if I can cash in the rest of my ticket. Lord knows I’m short on cash as it is.”

  “I’ve got a little extra I can give you, if you need it.”

  The man in the shadows moved away from the corner of the building as the two of them disappeared inside the terminal. He’s got money—and no sex? Who the fuck are you trying to kid? You’ll be on your hands and knees and sucking him off before he can get you out of town. The man thought quickly, furiously, a plan coming together. He had to laugh, a soft, nasty laugh, his eyes almost glowing in the dark. He could hardly believe what he had stumbled upon. It really couldn’t be more perfect.

  You two liars can forget Dallas…your plans just got changed. The three of us are going to have some fun… and it’s about goddamn time I had some fun. That bitch spreading her legs for me right now sure as shit ain’t getting it done.

  Chapter Eight

  From the appetizer to the salad and main course to desert the meal was perfect. Jeff couldn’t recall when he had enjoyed a more delicious meal; Angela declared it the finest she had ever had. They both ate way too much of the rich food and partook of the wine more than they should have. Even with the restaurant’s dim and cozy lighting, Jeff couldn’t help but see and smile at the rosy spots glowing on Angela’s cheeks like a pair of embers. Always a sure sign that she’d had too much to drink and was feeling no pain.

  He, too, felt a touch lightheaded when he stood up from the table, but Angela had more of the wine than he did and she was a lightweight. Jeff offered her his arm.

  She took it with a grateful smile. “Is it that obvious?” she whispered.

  “Afraid so, sweetheart.”

  “Whew, this girl overdid it. It’s all I can do to stand up in these heels. I think I’d fall on my butt right here in front of everyone if you weren’t holding on to me.”

  Jeff paid for their meal, mentally whistling at the total, and caught up with Angela, who had walked carefully to a small waiting area near the entrance. Once outside, Angela leaned into him, slipping an arm around him.

  “Are you okay to drive? I can’t do it. I couldn’t do it even if I had my glasses.”

  “I believe I can handle it.”

  “Are you sure? We can always call a taxi.”

  They could do that, but Jeff didn’t like the idea of leaving the car after dark in that part of town. There probably wouldn’t be very much of it left–if anything at all–when they came back for it. They couldn’t afford to repair or replace the car, or pay an impound fee. Nor a DUI citation.

  Yet Jeff had an idea to improve the odds of avoiding the latter.

  “No, I can manage it. Just to be safe, though, I think I’ll take the back road.”

  “Which back road?” Angela’s heels clicked unsteadily on the sidewalk.

  “Old County Road 7. It runs past that deserted farm property I once told you about. The old Metcalf farm?”

  Jeff and his older brother, Damon, grew up about ten miles south of the old farm. That had been twenty years ago. Robert Metcalf and his wife and the entire Metcalf clan of brothers and sisters had scattered in the wind long before the Taylor family moved into the area. When he was eleven or twelve, Jeff recalled, he began hearing talk among his friends that the Metcalf property was haunted. A few of the more imaginative claimed they had seen a “spook” walking along County 7 and always at night. To Jeff, it had always been teenage bullshit. Kids just trying to scare the hell out of one another.

  “Is that road still passable?” Angela asked.

  “It was the last time I was out that way. It’s probably not in very good shape and it’ll take us longer to get home going that way, but I think it’s the thing to do. We just have to get out of town, pick up State 365 and go south until we come to it, then cut all the way over to Willow, and get home by the back door, so to speak.”

  Angela didn’t speak until they made it to the Mazda. There she pulled away from him and pushed him against the car, her arms reaching around his neck. Jeff had to lean forward a bit so she could manage it.

  “If you think that’s best, then that’s fine with me,” she said and kissed him. “I put my precious little body and my all in your capable hands, my darling.”

  Jeff stroked one of her cheeks. “I hope you keep that thought in mind.”

  Angela gave him a smile that left him with that little shiver again. “You just wait until you get me home and get these clothes off me, because you’re going to find a she-tiger that’s going to have her way with you.”

  Chapter Nine

  The woman in the passenger seat squirmed as if she had ants crawling up both legs.

  The trio had been cruising all over town on both sides of the river for over an hour. The shadowy figure in the Mustang’s cramped backseat had been watching the woman silently for the past several miles, savoring the sight of her growing misery.

  “I need to stop,” she finally said softly.

  “What the hell for?” The voice from the backseat was a menacing growl.

  “I need to go.” Although her squirming was getting worse, her body seemed as rigid as a board as she stared straight ahead out the windshield.

  An indifferent grunt from the backseat. “So hold it.”

  “I can’t.” The woman’s voice assumed a plaintive whine. “I’ve been holding it for what seems like forever.”

  No reply.

  “Look, I’m scared to death and I’ve got to pee, okay? I can’t help it. If I don’t go pretty soon I’m going to pee all over myself.” She glanced nervously at the guy driving the car.

  “Eyes forward, damn your ass,” the voice from the backseat hissed.

  The woman’s head snapped forward.

  “It’s always something with bitches like you, ain’t it?” the low and mocking voice in the backseat demanded. “You’ve got to piss or fix your makeup, or you’ve got a fucking headache—always something, ain’t it?” The figure now spoke to the guy driving the car. “Always something, a
in’t it, Fuckhead?”

  The young man said nothing, both hands holding the steering wheel in a death grip.

  The figure in the backseat chuckled nastily. Fuckhead wasn’t going to be a problem at all; the man had recognized that from the start.

  The man had thought the two in front were never going to come out of that damn bus station. When they finally appeared, they threw the woman’s bags into the trunk and got in the car with no clue that they had a passenger crouched out of sight. Even when the dome light came on they didn’t see him. It wasn’t until after Fuckhead had started the engine and pulled away from the curb that the man made them aware of the full extent of what they had gotten into the car with.

  “Duane and Tanya, right? Both from Saint Louis?”

  The woman had let out a yelp of surprise and started to look around. He put a stop to that shit by grabbing her hair and shoving the gleaming five-inch blade of his folding knife under her nose. That got the message across to her real fast.

  Not so with Fuckhead. The asshole promptly froze with both hands on the wheel, his foot slipping off the gas. The sweat of fear that popped out on the guy’s face made him reek like a skunk. If that wasn’t enough of an aggravation, the car was fast coasting to a stop.

  Even when the man with the knife told the skinny fuck to get his foot back on the gas and to be quick about it, the guy didn’t respond or comply, frozen like a block of ice in the driver’s seat.

  “Either you get this fucking thing moving, or your bitch here loses a tit.”

  “Do what he says, Duane,” the woman had said in a fearful whimper.

  Still nothing from the asshole. Only more of his heavy breathing and more sweating. It was like the guy was in another fucking world and couldn’t hear a thing anyone said to him. That was when the man with the knife had grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head back and hissed in his ear.

  “If this car stops moving, I’m going to haul your sorry ass out of it and cut your balls off right in front of the bitch, then give them to her. Now put some foot in it, you lousy fuck.”