The kudzu cast shadows, playing tricks with my mind. The call of a night bird pierced the air. Off to my right lay a deep river ravine. I didn’t even want to think of what could lay hidden in there. The bird’s cry transformed into a child’s laughter, and my stomach seized up in fear. The kudzu crept a little closer and I shut my windows tight, knowing the delta ghosts were out in full force tonight.
I felt sure I would find Virgil at home, but his trailer was dark and his car nowhere in sight. Even the hogs didn’t make a sound, as if they were afraid of the night. Gathering every ounce of courage, I grabbed my flashlight and made my way to the shed with nightmare visions dancing in my head.
Though I stood and listened, there wasn’t a peep. The structure was quiet as a tomb. The fact that no plank barred its entrance was all that indicated Virgil might be inside. Pulling my gun, I took a deep breath and flung the door open wide. I stared in horror as the cross above Virgil’s altar seemingly sprang to life. A pair of ominous black wings raced toward me as if I were its chosen sacrifice. I quickly lifted the flashlight, and aimed my .38 directly into the demon’s eyes. It wasn’t until the very last second that I pulled back, causing my bullet to pierce the wall rather than shoot the owl that flew overhead in an exit worthy of Dracula.
My heart beat in syncopation with the flapping of its wings as I tried to catch my breath. The bullet’s scream echoed loudly throughout Chickasaw Bluffs, blatantly announcing my presence. The hogs added to the ruckus with alarming squeals that could have wakened the dead. However, I was the only little piggy that might be going to market for losing the element of surprise. I waited for Hardy to come swooping out of his hiding place in a firestorm of rage, but all that bore heavy upon me was the silence of the night. Time was ticking by. I had to reach Galya soon if I had any hope of finding her alive.
Though the Sho Nuf Bar was the next logical place to go, gut instinct told they wouldn’t be there. I was beginning to think this was a game of hide-and-seek in which Galya was the bait for much larger prey that Virgil was hunting. My paranoia linked arms with my determination to rescue and protect the child. Thoughts of Galya led to ruminations of Mavis, and I time-traveled back to her bedroom with those disturbing broken dolls. Something pricked at my psyche like an irritating splinter, forcing me to dig still deeper.
Closing my eyes, I once again felt Mavis’s cushioned window seat creak as I’d realized it was a built-in chest. Inside had sat a blue cardboard box. The recollection stirred up a visual flood of images. I mentally dug through Mavis’s collection of photos to uncover what I’d been searching for. The clue had been lurking in my subconscious all along—the black-and-white snapshot of Virgil standing at the fishing cabin that I’d passed just a few days ago. “Home Sweet Home on Black Bayou.” I immediately knew that’s where I had to go.
As I tore out of Chickasaw Bluffs, I spied something I hadn’t noticed before: at the road’s peak stood an old gravestone, its surface covered in kudzu’s smothering embrace. The full moon hung so low that it came to rest on its top. But what chilled me to the bone was that tonight’s crimson moon appeared to have burst, oozing blood throughout the sky. My premonition grew stronger than ever as I pressed down on the accelerator and flew toward my destination.
The bait shops were dark as I passed them. It was as though time itself had stopped, with the moon a beating heart, waiting to see how the night would unfold. I drove to where I’d parked when I’d come in search of Woody, setting his traps. Turning off the engine, I grabbed my flashlight and got out.
I started down the trail, the woods around me a sinister dead zone. Needles of terror pricked at my skin. Moonlight bleached the trees white as cadavers’ bones, while dark shadows lurked like ghosts. An ominous stillness stalked through the night, devouring everything in its path with an insatiable appetite.
It felt like forever until the fishing cabin came into view. Virgil’s car was parked nearby, and a kerosene light flickered inside the house, throbbing like an angry wound. I turned my flashlight off, and the night instantly drew suffocatingly close. I let my eyes adjust as I began my approach, my form melting into the darkness.
Then I heard a steady sound coming from the direction of the lake. It was the thrust and whoosh of metal rhythmically digging into dirt. My head told me to stay far away, but curiosity moved my feet closer. Virgil was working beneath a tree, silhouetted by a patch of moonlight. Clenched in his hand was a rusty shovel. My heart pounded as Hardy’s foot drove the spade deep to scoop out the earth. Virgil was digging a grave.
My body froze; suddenly I could no longer breathe. I had to find Galya and leave.
Bending low, I hurried to the house, praying she hadn’t been hurt. I’d kill Virgil if he’d harmed her in any way. I slid the gun into my pants and tiptoed up the wooden steps. Then I quickly slipped inside, afraid the light might escape and tip Virgil off.
Galya sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room, with a gag in her mouth. I placed a finger to my lips while I pulled a knife from my pocket.
“Galya, you remember me, don’t you?” I whispered. “I gave you the little dog, Zouzou.”
The child nodded, her eyes wide in a face drained of all color—except for a black-and-blue bruise the size of a plum on her temple. Her cheeks were wet with tears. I took a deep breath, careful to keep my emotions in check.
“Good. Then we’re going to play a game. I’m going to get you loose, but you must remain quiet and hold my hand tight. Do you think you can do that?”
Galya bravely nodded yes.
I slit the rope that held her captive, along with those around her wrists, and finally removed the gag.
“Remember, not a word,” I whispered. “The game is to be quiet as a mouse.”
A jagged limb picked that moment to menacingly rake across the window, causing us both to jump. A squeal of terror slipped from Galya’s lips and I swiftly covered her mouth.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. That was just a branch. See?” The limb continued to scratch at the glass in taunting refrain.
Galya threw her arms around my waist. Her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. I held the child for a second and smoothed her hair, then broke the embrace.
“Let’s get going.”
Galya kept tight hold of my hand as we stepped outside, where we were swallowed up by the night—perhaps too well. Galya couldn’t see and tripped down the stairs. At the noise, my heart zoomed into orbit, and I held my breath.
The hair rose off my scalp as I heard the sound of Hardy’s shovel being thrown to the ground, followed by the clomp of heavy footsteps charging our way.
Quickly picking up the girl, I placed the flashlight and knife in her hands. “Galya, take these and run as fast as you can down the trail! You’ll find my truck. Go there and hide!” If worse came to worst, she’d instinctively know what to do with the knife.
“But I’m afraid! Come with me, please!” Galya pleaded and started to cry.
“I’ll meet you there soon, I promise! But I have to stop this bad man first. Now hurry, and go!” I ordered, pushing her in the vehicle’s direction.
Galya’s eyes brimmed with tears as she squeezed my hand and then ran without looking back.
I took off in the opposite direction, toward where I’d found Woody. I made sure Virgil followed by picking up a stone and throwing it at him.
“Get the hell away from us, you freak!” I yelled for good measure. However, there was little question in my mind as to who he was after.
The trees closed in around me like a pack of hungry wolves, turning the woods into a childhood nightmare. Every twig crunched beneath my feet in a game of tattletale, as branches grabbed at my flesh. I knew the area was replete with cottonmouth snakes, and there was a real chance one of us would get bitten. All I wanted to do was draw Virgil far enough away from Galya before I took any action.
Then I stumbled over a gnarled root and twisted my ankle. Pain shot up my leg in an angry flame. My foot
refused to take my full weight, letting me know the race was over. I had to come up with a plan, and quick. On the other hand, I could just shoot the bastard. That sounded like the best idea yet.
Maybe it was finding all those passports buried inside a drawer, and knowing that women’s lives were considered nothing more than temporary sport, that fueled my rage. But I was damned if I’d ever become any man’s victim. I pulled the gun from my pants and waited for Virgil to catch up. It didn’t take long for Big Boy to come speeding around the curve.
“Hold it right there, Hardy!” I warned, my gun raised and ready. “Or I’ll shoot your fucking brains out.”
Hardy stopped dead in his tracks, the quills on his head vibrating in the ghostly moonlight, as if each hair had magically sprung to life.
“You’ve said that before. Whatcha gonna do, Porter? Kill me?” His voice was as smooth as a rattler sizing up its quarry.
“I just may, Virgil. It all depends on how you behave. Let’s start with you telling me a few things first.”
Hardy’s lips twitched in macabre amusement. “Sure, Porter. Whatcha wanna know?”
“Was it you who killed Woody?” The words stung in my throat.
Hardy’s pale eyes held my own, never blinking, until I nearly felt hypnotized. “I had to. You turned my brother against me. We were blood. He should have done what I told him.”
“Which was?”
“To take you out on the water and kill you.”
If Virgil could murder his own brother, there was nothing he wasn’t capable of doing.
“And Mavis?”
Laughter rose from the hellhole of his soul and poured out of his mouth, polluting the air around me.
“Oh, come on, Porter. You already know what happened to her.”
I could have sworn I heard the grunt of hogs fill the air, followed by the crunch of bones.
“What about Tatyana’s child? Why did you kidnap her?” My finger itched to pull the trigger and be done with it.
Hardy inexplicably appeared to grow larger, as if Satan himself had slipped inside the man. I knew I was staring straight into the face of evil.
“That was my way of inviting you to come out here and join me.”
His words slunk toward me like a beast crawling on its belly, stealthily determining how to nab its prey.
“But how could you have been so sure I’d discover you’d taken Galya, let alone know where to find you?” I asked, beginning to feel confused.
Virgil smiled evilly, as if enjoying the game. “’Cause I know everything you do. I’ve been watching you.”
A shiver tore through me. I’d sensed myself being observed by a pair of unseen eyes all along.
“You see, Porter, I know you better than you know yourself. Can’t you feel it? I’m inside you already.”
His words were like a worm eating away at my brain, cunningly setting my nerves on edge. Hardy’s eyes then flickered to the ground, his pupils narrowing as they followed something drawing near my feet. Chills shot up my spine—it had to be a snake.
I quickly glanced down, when I heard the sound of a child crying. The sob ripped at my heart and I had to hold myself back from calling out Galya’s name. Oh dear God! Had she come back? And if so, where was she hiding?
I frantically scanned the trees around Virgil, desperately hoping she wasn’t within his reach, only to I realize the sound was coming from behind. I automatically turned my head, needing to reassure myself the girl was safe. That was all the time it took for Virgil to reach my side. A searing pain tore through my wrist as the gun was wrenched from my grip, then his hands were around my throat.
“Like I told you before, Porter. You got some wantonness in you that needs to be ripped out, just the same as that child and her whore of a mother. Admit your sins and make your peace with God, girl, ’cause you’re about to die!”
I gasped for breath, but Hardy’s hands were steadily crushing my windpipe. My head pounded as if it were being whacked with a mallet. Even my eyeballs ached.
“Stop fighting, Porter, and release your soul!”
There was no way I was about to go down without one last fight. I leaned against a tree, which nipped at my back, and rammed a knee into Hardy’s groin, but the giant didn’t budge. Only someone like Vincent could take this guy on—or one of his wrestling techniques! I made a last-ditch try.
Quickly bringing my arms up between Hardy’s, I clasped his left elbow in my hand and slammed my right forearm against his joint with all my might. His grip loosened enough to allow me to lurch away. But a moment later Virgil was back on the prowl, his breathing heavy with excitement.
“This is fun, Porter! I like a woman who puts up a good fight!”
Fury kept me moving, determined to find an escape though I knew I was trapped. My ankle throbbed as if jaws of steel bit into the bone; my throat was raw and chafed, with each gulp of air burning. I blindly forged ahead in the dark until my leg smacked something sharp and I tumbled to the ground. I cried out as my cheek scraped a metal object: Woody’s Conibear trap.
It was then I remembered the one weapon I had left. I yanked Boobie’s bag of voodoo powder from my pocket, knowing what had to be done.
Raising myself onto my knees, I waited for Hardy to approach, every muscle quivering in anticipation. A smile licked at Virgil’s face as he saw where I knelt, and I knew he wanted me to beg for my life. I waited until I could feel the heat of his breath on my face and then threw the cayenne pepper into his eyes. Virgil roared in anger as he tried to wipe the powder away.
“Porter, your soul is going to hell when you die!”
Hardy reached down to make good on his word and I swiftly heaved the Conibear trap up, thrusting it forward so that his arms slipped inside. The steel tongs snapped closed, breaking Hardy’s bones. Virgil’s screams ruptured the night, laying to rest my delta ghosts.
Epilogue
A blistering guitar lick cleaved the air, igniting the audience as Gena glided on stage. She’d practiced her entrance well. Every move elicited a moan from the men, while her defiant look conjured women’s approving roars. Her cornrows swayed to the rich gumbo of blues, each roll of her hips punctuated by a sultry chord. Caressing the microphone, she closed her eyes and sang about how a good man can’t always make you happy, but a bad man keeps you awake the whole night long.
“Now that’s blues at its best!” Boobie boasted, setting us up with another round.
I took a sip of my mojo special and succumbed to its magic. Terri sat next to me, dressed to the teeth. He was looking better than ever in his updated Sharon Stone do; his fashionable cream shirt and gray linen slacks ably displayed his newly toned physique.
“I’m telling you, this music has inspired me to create a whole new line in doggy yarmulkes. Not only that, but Sophie and Lucinda are ecstatic about designing apparel for wrestlers.”
“Terri’s taking me to Miami to meet them next week,” Vincent added, with an uncharacteristic touch of shyness.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be a big hit,” Terri assured him, then turned to me. “Speaking of hits, your cheek is looking less like puff pastry these days.”
The sharp edge of Woody’s trap had bruised my skin when I fell over it while trying to flee Virgil. A swollen cheek seemed a small price to pay, considering the contraption had saved my life.
“That’s due to the good care you’ve given me.” I planted a kiss on his cheek. It was true. He’d made herbal packs for my face, and insisted I place no weight on my foot for over a week. He and Vincent had pampered me every day, plying my ankle with cold soaks.
“Which reminds me. I think you should rearrange your work schedule with Fish and Wildlife,” Terri added mysteriously.
“How so?”
“See if you can sell them on letting you spend six months in Memphis, and the rest of the year in Miami.”
“And why would I want to do that?” I laughed, knowing this must be Terri’s way of breaking good news.
“Because that’s exactly what we’re planning to do,” Vincent revealed, placing his hand on Terri’s. “Sophie and Lucinda think South Beach is the perfect place for a wrestling club.”
“Did I hear somebody say wrestling? I believe you’ve got the female champ sitting right here.”
Familiar arms wrapped themselves around me as Santou’s lips brushed my ear. He’d taken care of me every night.
“What say we try out that ankle of yours and do a little slow dancing?”
“You keep her on her feet too long, and there’ll be hell to pay,” Terri threatened.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I was becoming reacquainted with the man I’d loved for the past four years. I’d learned a lot about love and its risks, which was why I listened less to the music and more to Santou’s heartbeat as we danced, letting go of a little more control.
I’d been given a few weeks of leave until the dust settled at work. A firestorm had erupted over why a Fish and Wildlife agent had become so entangled in an FBI case. Territories were being marked and lines drawn as to who deserved credit—along with who wasn’t getting it.
The FBI had successfully forced Galinov into naming the ringleaders behind the white slave ring. The good news was he had agreed to help catch the men; the bad news was that he’d receive a minimal sentence in return. Meanwhile, Fish and Wildlife had drawn up indictments against a number of U.S. companies incriminated in the caviar scam. As a result, the pipeline was shut down for now, and all paddlefishing temporarily prohibited. The hope was that the species would be given enough time to rebound.
One person who wouldn’t be getting any brownie points was Special Agent Ed Tolliver. It appeared my hunch had been correct. He’d demanded that Santou and Hickok hold off on coming to my aid, refusing to bring an end to the operation. Hickok had resolved the problem by knocking Tolliver out, after which Santou had handcuffed him to the car’s steering wheel. It seemed a safe bet that Tolliver’s next assignment would be in an even less desirable location than any of my own had been.
Black Delta Night Page 21
