The Demon Trappers: Foretold

by Jana Oliver

  Which meant Riley needed to finish cleaning the house and get all that fingerprint dust out of the truck before then.

  Beck continued, oblivious to her mental list-making. ‘Donovan’s having a press conference tonight. He’s gonna lay it all out so folks know who’s to blame.’ Beck cleared his throat like he was going to say something more, then shook his head. ‘I need some sleep.’

  ‘Beck . . . about Justine . . .’

  ‘Don’t go there.’

  A few moments later he was in his own bed. She couldn’t leave it like that, so she made her way into his room and sat next to him. His eyes opened and then his hand trailed over to touch hers.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  ‘I was good for it,’ she said. ‘The skank makes me crazy sometimes.’

  ‘Only sometimes?’ he asked.

  ‘All right, every time I see her I want to tear her head off. Are you happy?’

  She got a lopsided grin for that admission.

  ‘Now you know how I feel when I think of that damned angel.’ His hand left hers to pull back the covers. ‘Stay with me until I go to sleep. Just behave yerself, you hear?’ he said, a smile lightly gracing his face.

  ‘Are you kidding? You’ve got a bad leg, you’re a mass of bug bites and you look like a Smurf. None of that makes me hot, Beck.’

  ‘Figured.’

  She kicked off her shoes and curled in next to him. He laid his arm around her. ‘That’s better,’ Beck murmured. Less than a minute later he was sound asleep.

  As Riley listened to the beat of his heart under her ear, she knew that things would never be the same between them. For the first time in her life, she was eager to see what the future would bring.

  The next day was a blur of activity. As per Beck’s instructions, Riley had donated Sadie’s clothes, the kitchenware and most of the furniture. His request that she leave the sofa in the house didn’t make much sense, but she did as he asked. Sam had insisting on washing the windows while Riley scrubbed the floors. As they raced through the final few tasks, her new friend had traded texts with a certain apprentice trapper in Atlanta.

  By nightfall everything had been completed and to celebrate Riley picked up a pizza and took it to the motel. This time the restaurant owner didn’t give her any grief. In fact, he threw in a free six-pack of soda and asked how Beck was getting along.

  After supper, Beck was unnaturally quiet, but she didn’t push him to talk. He was trying to read his book, but she could tell his head wasn’t into it. Finally he set it down.

  ‘I want to stay down here a few more days.’

  That was unexpected. Riley had figured he’d want to be out of this place the instant the funeral was over.

  ‘OK.’ What else could she say?

  ‘I’ll take you to the bus after the funeral. Jackson will pick you up at the station.’

  Clearly this had all been planned without her input.

  ‘Some reason you’re so eager to get rid of me?’ she asked, her feelings stinging a little.

  ‘Got things to do and things to think about. Can’t do them if yer here,’ he said. ‘We’ll talk once I get back to Atlanta.’

  Talk? She was hoping for a whole lot more than that. ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘Not yer concern,’ he said testily.

  Now her feelings were really hurt.

  ‘Whatever, Backwoods Boy,’ she said, and retreated to her room for the night.

  The day of her father’s funeral Beck had cooked her breakfast and driven her to the cemetery. In all ways he’d been respectful of her loss. It was Riley’s turn to show Beck that same respect. She made sure his truck was clean, inside and out, which took over an hour because of all that fine fingerprinting dust. She pressed his dress shirt, tidied his suit and polished his shoes. He never said a word as they drove to the cemetery, but she knew he’d noticed it all.

  The graveyard was small, but there was a fair number of people gathered near the funeral tent. Given Sadelia Beck’s reputation, most of the attendees were just being nosy. Fortunately, Deputy Martin was screening the mourners, keeping the majority of the press away.

  Thank you, she mouthed as they drove by him, and he nodded in return.

  Once she’d parked the truck, her eyes homed in on Justine Armando talking to one of the townspeople.

  Beck followed her gaze. ‘I told Justine she was welcome to come to the funeral if she wanted,’ he said, swinging open his door. ‘Don’t read anythin’ into that, OK?’

  ‘I won’t.’

  While the reporter was dressed in all navy, with a stylish hat, Riley was in the dress, as she’d come to think of it, the one she’d worn to both her parents’ funerals and to all the services for the dead trappers. If worth could be calculated in sorrow, this garment would priceless.

  Once Beck had climbed out of the truck, cane in hand, Riley joined him. His face was tight, his emotions under considerable restraint.

  ‘We’ll get through this together,’ she said quietly. It was exactly what he’d said to her before her father’s funeral. He nodded, but gave no reply.

  Donovan stood near the coffin under the blue tent. He was in a suit, not his uniform, and the similarities between him and Beck were more noticeable now. When they stood next to each other, their height was about the same, though Beck’s hair was sandier than the sheriff’s and he had broader shoulders. The funeral director they’d brought in to handle the services stood next to Donovan, a thin man with a pinched face.

  ‘Denver,’ Donovan said solemnly.

  ‘Tom. Thanks for comin’,’ Beck replied, and they shook hands. He turned his attention to the undertaker. ‘Thank you for steppin’ in and gettin’ everythin’ ready, Mr Bishop.’

  ‘It was the least I could do given the unfortunate circumstances,’ the man replied.

  The pleasantries over, Beck chose one of the chairs near the front of the tent as other mourners filed in around them, including Sam and Louisa. Riley recognized some of the faces from the diner, including a few of the old guys.

  Though the preacher did his best to warn them about the dangers they faced if they didn’t keep their eyes on Heaven, Riley lowered her eyes to the twin inscriptions on her palms, knowing the man’s warnings were too late for her.

  When the preacher had finished his sermon, he looked towards Beck expectantly. Puzzled, Riley watched as Sadie’s son took his position at the front of the coffin. Beck’s face was pale and lined, the emotional strain almost too much to bear.

  Why is he doing this to himself? He doesn’t owe his mother anything.

  Beck shifted his weight uneasily. He knew everyone was watching him, but he had to sort out the battle inside his heart. His eyes moved to Riley and he felt a sense of calm envelope him like a loving embrace. What was it about Paul’s daughter that made him feel like that?

  She gave him a nod of encouragement, though she had no idea what he was about to do. Beck cleared his throat and made sure to look at the far end of the tent, over the faces of the mourners. In particular, he avoided looking at the red-haired reporter.

  ‘The preacher said some fine words for Sadie. I need to say a few more.’ Another throat clearing. ‘Some of ya . . . you knew Sadie when she was younger. I’ve heard she was a great deal of fun and had a sense of humour. By the time I showed up that was pretty much gone. Least ways I never saw it.’

  His heart pounded inside his chest. Why was he up here? Why did he feel driven to do this?

  ‘The Sadie I knew wasn’t a good woman. She was mean as a snake and lived in a bottle. I don’t think she ever met a guy she’d turn down.’

  A couple of old ladies gasped. Maybe he’d been too honest, but somehow he knew Sadie wouldn’t disagree.

  ‘By the time I was sixteen and had to leave town I’d seen so much of the bad that I didn’t think there was much better out there. I was sure I wasn’t worth a damn. Some of you here tried to help me along and I’ll always think well of you for that.’ His eyes
were on Donovan now.

  ‘The one thing that Sadie taught me was that I didn’t want to be her. I wasn’t gonna become someone who hated life so much that I’d destroy all the joy in it.’ His eyes moved to Riley. ‘I was lucky – I met some good folks in Atlanta and they showed me a much better way.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘They taught me I was worth a damn and that Sadie was the one who was missin’ out. So I guess what I’m sayin’ is that even if Sadelia Beck wasn’t a good person or even a good parent, she taught me more than she ever realized.’

  His legs began to shake: he tried to control them and failed. ‘So I thank you for comin’ here today. I doubt she’ll find peace where she’s headed. That wasn’t her way, but at least we said a proper goodbye.’

  Beck made it back to his seat, but not a moment too soon, his stomach roiling and sweat beading on his forehead.

  Riley leaned over and whispered. ‘I never could have done that.’

  ‘I had to,’ he whispered back. ‘I’m leavin’ all of it behind, here in the dirt with her. I’m startin’ over from now on. Nothin’ is gonna hold me back.’

  Riley slid her hand into his and squeezed it. ‘God, you’re awesome, you know that?’

  ‘No, I’m just me.’ And for today that’s enough.

  The preacher ended the service with another prayer, though he seemed rattled by Beck’s candid farewell. Mourners trailed by the open coffin and then stopped to speak to him and Riley, one by one. Louisa dropped a kiss on his cheek. Then Justine was in front of him, her deep emerald eyes glistening with moisture.

  ‘Often the worst times of our lives are the ones that shape us the most,’ she said. ‘I am truly sorry for your loss, Beck.’

  She didn’t kiss him, but touched his arm fondly, then departed after he murmured his thanks.

  When it was only the two of them, Beck made his way to the coffin where he gazed down at the face of a woman who had given him life, and then made it a living hell.

  Why couldn’t you have loved me? I was never that bad.

  A sob lodged in his throat. ‘Rest in peace, Momma,’ he whispered, and then placed a kiss on her cold forehead.

  I don’t know if I can ever forgive you, but that doesn’t keep me from lovin’ you.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After they’d changed clothes at the motel and Riley’s luggage was stowed in the truck, Beck gave her directions to Waycross and the bus station.

  She bought her ticket and then returned to wait with him until the time came to board. This was his opportunity to show her how much had changed between them. If he hadn’t just buried his mother, Riley would have expected a blazing kiss. At the least, she expected some acknowledgment that he felt the same as she did.

  ‘Thanks, for everythin’,’ he said. He took hold of her shoulders, gave them a squeeze and then placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

  Riley felt disappointment, then anger in rapid succession.

  ‘So that’s it?’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘After all that’s happened between us, that’s it?’

  ‘For now.’

  Her mouth closed with a click of her teeth, her jealousy roaring again.

  He seemed to know what she was thinking. ‘This isn’t about Justine or that angel. It’s me. I need some time to get things sorted out, get my head on straight. That’s why I’m stayin’ down here until I do.’

  ‘There’s nothing to sort out, Beck,’ she replied. ‘It’s all been settled.’

  ‘Not in my mind. I can’t go forward until . . . I know some things.’

  What was there to know? I love you. You care for me. Why make this hard?

  ‘OK, then when you finally get that head of yours straight, give me a call. Who knows, maybe I’ll answer the phone,’ she said, then whirled on her heels and marched towards the bus. As she climbed the stairs, out of the corner of her eye she saw Beck staring at her. He wasn’t angry. If anything, he looked lost.

  Riley slumped into her seat, feeling like a jerk for going all ugly on him. In an instant, she knew what had to be done. Rushing down the aisle, she nearly collided with the driver as he entered the vehicle.

  ‘How soon do you leave?’ she asked.

  ‘Five minutes,’ the man said. ‘Don’t go too far.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  Riley hurried down the stairs and then crossed the lot to where Beck was waiting.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he said, straightening up.

  ‘You.’ Riley grabbed on to his collar, pulled him forward and kissed him with as much ferocity as she possessed. She put everything into that kiss, all her wild hopes, all her dreams.

  When it ended, Beck’s eyes were glowing with desire. He quickly took in a huge rush of air.

  ‘Damn, girl,’ he murmured.

  Now that she had his attention . . .

  Riley carefully tidied his collar and then looked deep into those deep brown eyes.

  ‘Remember, when we first came to town I told you to ask me if I felt any different about you when it was all over?’

  He nodded warily. ‘Do you?”

  ‘Yes, I do. Get your head straight and come back to Atlanta. Come back to me. Because I’m not giving up on you. I can’t . . .’ Her voice broke from the emotions careening inside her.

  He has to know.

  Riley carefully touched her forehead to his, like he had in the cemetery, her hands lightly caressing his forearms, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt.

  ‘I love you, Denver Beck,’ she whispered. ‘I have for a long time.’ Then she stepped back. ‘Now it’s your turn to decide if you love me.’

  As Riley walked back to the bus, her heart hammered and her mind whirled. Ohmigod. She’d told him she loved him. There was no going back now. Either he felt the same about her, or it’d all turn to ashes like it had with the others.

  She climbed aboard with shaking legs, without looking back. In truth, she was too frightened to do so. It wasn’t until Riley returned to her seat that she looked out of the window. Beck’s mouth had dropped open in shock. He blinked a few times and closed it.

  When the bus pulled out, he was still there, watching her depart. He hadn’t taken off, not like she’d feared. Instead, he’d held his ground despite her actions.

  Riley waved goodbye and he returned it along with a tentative smile.

  Then she was on the road to Atlanta, leaving behind the man she loved more than life itself. Only time would tell if he felt the same about her.

  The bucket of fried chicken sitting between them was mostly empty. The bottle of Jack Daniels was mostly full. That said a lot about the pair of them: Donovan wasn’t much of a drinker and Beck was still too hungry to waste time sucking down booze when there was food at hand.

  They sat on Sadie’s rickety back porch which overlooked a long stretch of open ground. In the distance a hawk soared above the field in hopes of a meal. Sadie had never cared for the porch which is why Beck had spent countless childhood hours out here. He could dream that he was on a pirate ship or exploring some strange new country, anything to be away from the woman who despised him.

  To his right sat an old battered metal box, the one he’d had Donovan fish out of a heating vent where it’d been hidden from Sadie’s eyes. If she’d found it, she would have tossed it in the trash. She’d always been that way when it came to anything he valued. Now his personal treasures would be going to Atlanta with him.

  Sitting about fifteen feet in front of them was that damned couch, reeking of gasoline fumes, courtesy of a can of fuel. At Beck’s feet was a rolled-up newspaper and a box of matches. At his request, the sheriff had already let the proper people know that a visit by the fire department was not going to be needed.

  ‘Some reason you’re going all Viking funeral on this piece of furniture?’ Donovan asked, his face crinkling in humour.

  ‘I hate the thing. When Sadie had been drinkin’, she’d come home and pass out on it. Usually she’d have some guy with her.’

  Donovan sober
ed. ‘I talked to her about that, told her it wasn’t the right thing to do when she had a young son. She’d never listen to me.’

  ‘At least you tried.’

  With the sheriff’s help, Beck lit the newspaper and then hobbled over to the remaining source of his nightmares.

  ‘Burn, you bastard,’ he muttered, then threw the lighted paper on to the centre of the couch. The fumes ignited instantly and began to consume the fabric in thick, greedy waves.

  Beck returned to the porch and sat down, watching the inferno build. ‘Been wantin’ to do that since I was ten.’

  ‘Surprised you waited.’

  That did make Beck grin. ‘I was gettin’ into enough trouble without being a fire bug.’

  ‘That’s the truth.’ Donovan retied a shoelace. ‘We have a plea bargain in place with McGovern. Once the Feds are done with him, they’ll go directly to the sentencing phase.’

  ‘Any chance of the death penalty?’

  ‘No. That was part of the bargain. That won’t sit well with some folks, but that’s the way it went down.’

  ‘If I was him, I’d let them kill me rather than spendin’ the rest of my life in some damned cell,’ Beck said.

  The sheriff took a quick slug of whisky. ‘If it wasn’t such a mess around here, we could go fishing.’

  Beck smiled. ‘I’d have liked that, but I’ll have to get back to Atlanta. Maybe sometime down the line.’ He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. How do I do this?

  Something must have shown on his face as Donovan leaned forward as well, adopting the same pose.

  ‘What’s on your mind, Denver?’

  ‘Got a question and I don’t know how to ask it.’

  ‘Does it have something to do with Sadie and me?’

  Beck’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Yeah, it does. I’m not the only one thinks you and me look a lot alike.’

  ‘Figured that would come up one of these days. In fact, I’m surprised it hasn’t until now.’

  ‘Part of askin’ the question is maybe gettin’ an answer I won’t like. I wasn’t willin’ to take the risk,’ Beck admitted.