Dadgummit

by Maggie Toussaint

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “Release me. You’re violating my constitutional rights,” Burl Sayer said, his voice getting louder with each word he uttered.

  Sayer seemed to recognize me when I sat down beside Mayes in the interview room, but once the interview got underway, he didn’t spare me a second glance. His eyes locked on Mayes, as if Mayes were his sniper target.

  I shivered. Burl Sayer still wore his camo garb, though he’d lost the ball cap and boots. They’d given him some white booties to wear instead, which clashed with his macho image. Except there was no mistaking the rigid set of that granite jaw or the menace in his rough voice.

  “Where were you three nights ago?” Mayes asked.

  Sayer pounded the table with his cuffed hands. “You can’t pin that boy’s murder on me. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Did you know Haney Haynesworth?”

  “I’d seen him skulking around. One time I stopped the guy and ordered him off my property. The kid wet himself. He wasn’t part of the invasion, but he kept a low profile like me. He cut through my woods regularly. After that first time, I let it slide. He wasn’t hurting nobody or nothing.”

  “Someone took him out.”

  “But not with a gun. I heard he just lay down and died.”

  “Who said that?”

  Sayer scowled. “Don’t rightly remember.”

  “You ever see Haney with anyone else?”

  “Once. A girl with long dark hair.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I followed them, but all they did was sit on a rock. That guy sat on the rock any chance he got. He could sit there for hours. He had the stillness of a sniper. I respected that.”

  Mayes went hunter-still. “Which rock?”

  Sayer’s cheek twitched. “Over Annabelle’s way a piece. Near the lake.”

  Mayes exchanged a glance with me, then turned back to Sayer. “You ever sit on the rock?”

  “Nah. I got too much ground to cover. Can I go now?”

  “No. Tell us where you were three nights ago.”

  Sayer got a wild look in his eyes. “If I’d a-killed that boy, there’d be a bullet hole in him. No hole. I didn’t do it.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I was out, man. Patrolling, like always. I was nowhere near where he died.”

  “Did anyone see you?”

  Sayer shuddered. “They better not have seen me. I can’t fend off the invasion if I give my position away. You got nothing on me. I’m outta here.” He stood up.

  Mayes stood along with Sayer. “Hold up. You’re going to be our guest a little longer. We have three separate incidents in which you brandished your weapon. All are documented on official police reports, and two parties are pressing charges.”

  “That’s against the Constitution,” he said. “A man’s gotta right to bear arms.”

  “On his property. Last time I checked, you didn’t own the entire mountain. Unless you can account for your whereabouts for Haney’s murder and Dana Finley’s murder, you are my number one suspect.”

  Dana Finley? I wracked my brain. The only other murder was White Feather. Oh yeah. Dana Finley was White Feather’s legal name.

  Sayer smacked the table again. “Never thought I’d say this word, but you drove me to it: lawyer.”

  “We can work out a deal regarding the charges, if you cooperate. Do you have information about the murders?”

  Sayer glared at Mayes and sat down again. “Lawyer.”

  Mayes swore under his breath. He nodded at me and went to stand beside the door. My turn to gather information.

  I started with a soft, soothing voice. “Mr. Sayer, I know we can’t continue to ask you questions about the case, but before I go, I want to thank you. I understand your need to keep the land safe. My husband served his country and safety was his top priority.”

  Sayer didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure how I would work into touching him. He seemed to be quite volatile. If I invaded his personal space, those handcuffs might not hold him. The only thing I knew about him for certain was that the war had changed him.

  “Like my Roland, you must’ve seen terrible sights,” I said. “There must have been times when you’d rather be home, rather be enfolded in the peace and quiet of the Georgia mountains. But those who are born to serve and protect feel that obligation so strongly that they put themselves in harm’s way over and over again.”

  He seemed to be listening intently, though his gaze was averted. I took a deep breath. Wasn’t any point in drawing this out. “Thank you from all of us on the home front.” I reached across the table and squeezed his hand lightly.

  Instantly, light fractured and percussive booms sounded. I couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe for all the acrid smoke and thick dust. I was seeing a vignette through Sayer’s eyes, hearing his thoughts. Neutralize the threat ran through my mind. More images flashed in my head, all of them pertaining to a soldier’s duty.

  I released his hand and rose. Outside in the gleaming corridor, Mayes got right to the point. “Well?”

  Not wanting to blurt anything out, I took a slow breath to clear my head. “Nothing useful. When I touch a living person, only traumatic incidents are vivid enough to transfer. He’s stuck in a warzone mentality. If he’d killed recently, I should’ve picked it up.”

  “What about your BS meter? Was he telling the truth in there?”

  “He believed everything he said, which isn’t saying a lot when it comes to a man living in a different reality. My gut tells me he didn’t kill Haney or White Feather. What about you?”

  “No point in guessing. I’m holding him as long as I can. I don’t need any more bodies piling up.”

  “Sayer needs counseling for his posttraumatic stress.”

  Mayes held his silence until an admin staffer walked past us. “Not my job to see to his mental health.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. Sayer needed an advocate, and apparently it was me. “My sheriff at home would arrange it.”

  “We do things differently up here.”

  “So I see.”

  He took three steps, then he turned back, his eyes cold. “My priority is bringing these killers to justice and getting Twilla Sue back on her feet. My gut tells me it’s all connected. I don’t need anyone second-guessing me here, not even you.”

  Denial sprang to my lips. Sayer’s troubled mind spoke to a part of me that ached from Roland’s mysterious disappearance. I wanted that wounded warrior to have a chance at a normal life. Unless someone intervened, Sayer would surely patrol this mountain until he died.

  The rose tattoos on my back and hand blazed red hot for a second. My breath caught. Tears filled my eyes. Rose was listening. I hoped that’s all she was doing.

  “I’m committed to this investigation,” I said slowly, “but when we catch Jonas Canyon, I plan to revisit this conversation about Sayer’s mental health.”

  His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. I felt the brush of energy across the back of my neck. Was he using his paranormal senses on me? I mentally pushed back, shoving a jolt of energy his way.

  Two deputies I didn’t know hurried by, startling me into remembering where I was. I dropped my energy level and glared at Mayes. He ceased whatever he was doing, and the corners of his lips twitched.

  He was enjoying this way too much.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “My turn,” Dr. Gail Bergeron said, the click of her heels announcing her rapid approach in the corridor. “From the Meese Park site, I’ve got five skeletons—three men and two women—and not much else.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Mayes said. “Our killer is still on the loose.”

  “I need Ms. Powell for a few minutes, fifteen tops. Then you can have her back.”

  Staring at piles of bones wasn’t high on my fun list, but I needed a break from the testosterone level in this hallway. “I don’t see why not. I won’t be long. Mayes can check for Jonas sightings while I’m i
n the morgue.”

  Gail nodded, and I followed her down a series of hallways. To his credit, Mayes didn’t protest my abandoning him. Guess the guy knew he was outnumbered.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I needed a break from Mister I’m-In-Charge.”

  As we walked, Oliver my ghost dog appeared, ranging in front of us, nose to the floor. He raced ahead and darted back to me several times. I was glad of the company. Despite my need to take a break from Mayes, Gail had her own agenda.

  “He’s not a bad sort,” Gail said. “All the people here are concerned about Twilla Sue. I checked at the hospital. Her vitals are where they should be, but she isn’t responsive.”

  “That’s what I heard as well.”

  “Such a shame. I hope she recovers.”

  “Any word on the Sandelman case we’d been working? Did you catch that little girl’s killer?” I asked.

  “Investigators questioned Knox and Tawny separately. Tawny denied knowing anyone named Pug. Then she started crying and wouldn’t speak again. Knox identified Pug right away. Because the arrest is pending, I can’t release his name. But we’re actively looking for that red car and building a case against Pug. Thanks to you, we may catch this child killer.”

  I blushed. “I didn’t contribute much. The hard part will be connecting the dots so that the case is solid in court.”

  “We have our best people working on the case.” Gail cleared her throat. “Meanwhile, I’ve got a ginormous puzzle to solve at the Tree of Secrets. My bones are of adults, and we don’t have five missing persons in the area.”

  I switched mental gears to her tree case. I remembered hearing two bodies were found beneath stout roots. “Could this be an older, unmarked graveyard?”

  “If so, there’s no record of it. Someone used that park as a graveyard, but who? And why? All I have are the bones to give us answers, and a few scraps of fabric. The material is a modern blend of cotton and polyester.”

  “What about cause of death?”

  “Nothing obvious. The skulls are intact. No sign of bullet holes or trauma in the skeletons. Don’t know if they had soft tissue damage as it’s long gone.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Nothing’s quite usual with these bodies. Their teeth, for instance, show less wear and tear than you might expect. Almost no dental work either.”

  “DNA?”

  Gail opened the door and ushered me into the darkened room. The air temperature seemed to drop ten degrees at once. “No luck so far. Bone marrow is our best shot for a DNA profile, but even that’s not yielding any answers.”

  “You lack fingerprints, dental work, DNA, and physical ID aids. No wonder you want me to help figure out who these people are.”

  Oliver busily sniffed around each of the five gurneys, then he sat down in front of one of them.

  Gail pointed to the bones of the nearest victim. “I thought we’d start here and work our way down the line. Fire up your psychic consultant skills and see what you get.”

  I made my way to the first batch of bones. Oliver barked loudly from contestant number four. Since I trusted Oliver’s instincts, I went down where he sat and drew back the sheet. Gail had laid out the remains as if they were an intact human. I didn’t like this part of my job very much, but bones were solid links to the dead.

  “I thought we’d start at the top with Jane Doe #1 and proceed in an orderly fashion,” Gail said.

  “I’m starting here,” I said, pausing to read the name on the ID tag, “with John Doe #2.” I wasn’t about to tell her a ghost dog told me where to start. “Don’t touch me while I’m checking this guy out. If for any reason something goes wrong, call Mayes and my dad.”

  “Will do. But I need answers.”

  “Don’t we all.” I touched my moldavite necklace and was comforted by its good energy. Gritting my teeth, I took hold of one of John’s arm bones. The transition from living to dead happened as expected with the usual chill and disorientation from tumbling through the veil of life. Odd to think that these sensations were starting to feel routine. All too soon, I was standing in the thin murk of the Other Side.

  Oliver leaned against my leg, and I reached down to pet him. “Good boy. Now why are we here? Why did you want me to start with this guy?”

  The faint sound of music drifted my way. This was what we in the investigation business called a clue. I followed it and found a glade of trees and a meadow. A man sat in a chair beside a large musical instrument, a cello by the look of it. Melancholy music poured out of him in a way that made my heart ache.

  As his song drew to a close, the man began to weep. “It’s no use,” he said. “I don’t want to go on without her.”

  He carefully placed his cello in a case, stood, and stretched. Then he turned and headed down a narrow path, directly to a familiar-looking rock. He clambered aboard, sitting still as a statue. I touched the rock and felt the vibrations of the drumbeats I’d heard earlier while in his position.

  The Little People again. They were tangled up in this somehow.

  John Doe #2 spoke. “I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what? Spending the day on the rock?” Though I’d spoken aloud, he didn’t notice, which often happened during a dreamwalk. I had yet to figure out why at times I could talk to the spirits and at others I was relegated to viewing a scene from their life.

  Would I be stuck for hours watching him sit? One minute he was sitting on the rock, the next minute he vanished. I stared at where he wasn’t in disbelief. Was this the Little People’s version of the Rapture?

  “Hello?” I called into the void but got no response. I waited a few more minutes, but John Doe #2 was done with me. I gave Oliver another pat and straightened up. Time to go home.

  I pictured myself standing in the morgue and braced for the dizzying tumble of my spirit as I passed from the land of the dead to the land of the living. The large wall clock was the first item I focused on. Only five minutes had passed, though it seemed much longer to me. The ambient light seemed extra bright after that dark place, but my eyes adjusted with a few blinks.

  “Well?” Gail asked.

  “John #2 spent time with the Little People. I heard him playing a cello, but he was very sad. He chose to go sit on a transition rock, a gateway to the Little People’s world. He moved on to live with them.”

  “John Doe #2 is a human. Nothing about his remains suggests otherwise.”

  “We know time is different over there. No telling how long he stayed with the Little People. Somehow he made it back.” At her look of disbelief, I added, “He came back dead.”

  “Tell me more about him.”

  “He didn’t speak to me. He was sad about something. A woman. He didn’t want to go on without her.”

  “You have a physical description? Height, weight, hair color, age … anything you can remember.”

  “He was taller than me. Heavier than Mayes, but not by much. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt. And Hush Puppies boots, looked like. That’s it.” I thought of something else. “I mentioned the cello, right? He placed it in its case before he headed to the rock.”

  “Hush Puppies footwear became popular in the 1970s.”

  “They’re still around,” I said. “Though you don’t see as many of them.”

  “So John Doe #2 could’ve gone missing anytime in the last, say, forty-five years? That’s a lot of records to search.”

  “Except, he would’ve gone missing here. And the cello would be a big hint. I wonder if it’s in police evidence somewhere.”

  “Why don’t you ask Mayes to help us on that?”

  “You heard him. He doesn’t want to spend a second on this case. He’s got the name of a murderer and a dragnet out to catch him.”

  The door opened and Mayes strolled in, a scowl riding his angular face. “We have to go. Jonas sighting at the hardware store.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Seemed like I was splitting my vacation week between riding in cop cars and ta
king dreamwalks. Deputy Mayes hurried me into the sheriff’s SUV, and we zipped over to the local hardware store. Good thing I had experience being tossed around all willy-nilly. Though I was firmly buckled in, I gripped the armrest again to keep from sliding around in my seat.

  “You done with Dr. B?” Mayes said.

  “Nope. You won’t like this.”

  He didn’t say anything, so I let the silence stretch out as we careened around another corner. He wasn’t the only one who could do inscrutable.

  “The cases are connected.” He said this as if he’d just learned the world was ending.

  My stomach had the audacity to growl. Barely ten o’clock and my breakfast had already worn off. This was going to be a long day. “Good chance.”

  “I’ll bite.”

  “This guy I dreamwalked about sat on that same rock I was on this morning. He heard the drums, and then he wasn’t on the rock anymore. He vanished.”

  Mayes re-gripped the steering wheel. His shoulders rounded. “The rock is a Nunne’hi portal?”

  “Certainly seems that way.”

  “Haney spent time with the Little People. Jonas stole from them. And now those five bodies at the park, people who show no sign of skeletal trauma, may also have been with the Little People?”

  “I can’t prove it, but you reached the same conclusion I did. What do we do now?”

  “Capturing Jonas is still our priority.”

  “I can’t make the timeline work. Jonas appears to be in his early twenties. Based on clothing found with the Tree of Secrets bodies, these five people died over forty years ago. No way could Jonas be that old.”

  Mayes parked at Dave’s Hardware, a one-story building with a green-metal roof. “We’ll figure it out. First we have to catch the guy.” He radioed in our position, then turned to me. “Ordinarily, I’d ask you to stay in the vehicle, but Jonas Canyon isn’t an ordinary killer. If he uses his powers on me, I’ll end up like Twilla Sue. Stay behind me in case he has a gun. If he starts in with the mind control, block it.”

  A glance around the empty lot didn’t give me much hope for success. “Doesn’t look like anyone is here.”