Maddie was not that kind of host.
At times, Dominica felt her hatred and revulsion of all things brujo, and on occasion Maddie dropped her guard and Dominica could dip into her memories. That had been more common in the early days of their relationship. Now, her guard seemed to be up most of the time. It was difficult for Dominica to read her at all.
Will you be able to teach these techniques to others, Liam?
Absolutely. It’s easy. The—
Loud, insistent knocking at the door startled all of them. Joe, see who it is and get rid of them.
As he moved to the door, Dominica drifted out of Sam and slipped back into Maddie, waking her, animating her, and urged her to follow Joe. Since his host was the owner of the hotel, it was logical that he should deal with customer complaints, employee problems, anything related to the functioning of the business. Maddie was the front desk lady, the public relations person who always greeted customers with a quick, engaging smile, directed them to restaurants, rentals of kayaks, canoes, electric carts, and handed out maps, bottled water, and whatever else was requested. When necessary, as it was earlier tonight, she helped bartend and waitress.
Joe opened the door. “May I help you, sir?”
“Uh, yes. I’m the coordinator of the group that pulled in earlier today? From Georgia? Some of our passengers are quite concerned about what happened earlier. I’d like to speak to the management.”
Dominica suddenly didn’t trust Joe to handle this particular problem, so she swept past him, her hand extended. “Hi, I’m Maddie. I’d be glad to answer any questions you have.” Dominica stepped outside with him, shutting the door behind her. She touched the man’s arm, walking him over to the desk. “What’s your concern, sir?”
His prissy mouth pursed, and he poked at his black frame glasses, pushing them farther up the bridge of his nose. “Well, we’re a family group, as you know, and, quite frankly, some of the parents are concerned about the rape that occurred earlier.”
“It wasn’t a rape,” Dominica said. “A customer had way too much to drink and walked into the women’s restroom by mistake.”
His eyes widened. “Ah, okay. That explains why the police didn’t show up. I’ll let the parents know. They were talking about checking into another hotel.”
“Well, if they’d like to do so, we’d be glad to refund their money. And we do apologize for the worry that incident caused.”
“Thanks very much.”
He walked off toward the dining room and Dominica hurried back to the room where the others were. “Okay, let’s get back to work, people. Whit, may I speak to you for a moment?”
When the others had left, she gestured toward Sam. “Someone should drive him home. Then I want Kate Davis found. Joe’s host needs to apologize to her. He and Gogh frightened her.”
“Why not just seize her? She’s a goddamn pain in the ass. And it would be easier for her and Gogh to get along then.”
“Find me the right ghost and we’ll do it. A very strong-willed ghost. Like you.”
“You’re the only other brujo as strong-willed as I am, Nica.”
He leaned toward her then, to kiss her, and suddenly Maddie seized enough control of her body to pull back, to jerk her arms upward. Dominica tightened her control on Maddie before she could shout out loud, but she screamed in her mind. You let that fucker kiss me and I’ll fight you so hard you’ll be forced to bleed me out in front of a bunch of your kind.
“Shut up,” Dominica hissed, and was horrified when Maddie’s body started twitching, jerking, her limbs moving in every direction, as though she were in the midst of an epileptic fit.
Alarmed, Whit moved toward her. “Nica, what is it?”
“She’s … fighting me.”
Dominica slammed her virtual fist into Maddie’s pain centers, into a knot of nerves, and she fell to her knees, sobbing, body shuddering, foam filling the corners of her mouth, spilling down her chin. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, and she went still. She had passed out. Dominica forced her into consciousness, made her sit up, and looked at Whit.
“It’s over,” she said quietly. “You and I can’t do anything when I’m using her as a host. Find the right ghost for Kate. And one for her son.” And for that strange hawk of theirs, she thought, but didn’t say it. The hawk disturbed her and she didn’t know why. “And let’s step up the seizure program, Whit. Tomorrow, we seize the county coroner in Gainesville and get him out here to the island. And we seize a few state cops, the ones who drop by the bar when they’re off duty. Let’s up the ante. Ten to fifteen hosts seized daily.”
Whit winked, aimed his index finger at her as though it were a gun. “I’m on it,” he said, and strode quickly from the room.
Dominica sat there on the floor for a few moments, hating Wayra and all the others who had chased her from the mountains of Ecuador to this flat, strange spit of land on the Gulf of Mexico. But right now, she felt certain she was winning, and that was more important than her hatred, her need for revenge. It was all that mattered.
March 15–16
Seven
Even at seven in the morning, the Island Marina offered zero privacy, Kate thought. It stood at the end of Dock Street, the tourist zone, and faced a tremendous parking lot that would fill steadily all day. On the far side of the lot were two more docks where surplus tourist boats were tied up. Across the street was a place that rented electric carts. And it was all exactly what she craved right now, the company of humanity in all of its myriad forms.
Her houseboat, Someday, was now docked in slip 13 and bobbed in the early morning swells. Powered by a single Mercruiser 228 horsepower engine, it was thirty-six feet long, with an inside cabin large enough for her and Rocky to live here comfortably. They had sectioned it off so they each had a small bedroom, enough space to give them some privacy. With the open upper deck, and the front and rear decks, they rarely got in each other’s way.
At the moment, Kate sat on the back deck, sipping coffee, and tried to piece together everything that had happened yesterday. But whenever she thought about it, she was suddenly back in the restroom, fighting off Sam. Or she was facing Rich as he told her there was no need to call the cops, that she shouldn’t make waves. She wasn’t sure where to go from here, where to turn, what to do. The only thing she felt certain about was that she would not be returning to the hotel to bartend. It frightened her to even consider how she would make ends meet without her income and tips from the hotel.
She stared out across the water, mulling over her few options: draw money from Rocky’s car fund, beg Annie for more hours at the café, or look for another part-time job. None of these options looked promising.
Kate watched the dozens of sailboats and fishing vessels dotting the expanse of water off to her right. A few noisy Jet Skis sped by, headed for the Old Fennimore Mill condos, a dozen three-story buildings smack on the salt marsh. Tourists, she thought. They were the only ones who used Jet Skis around here. Several colorful kayaks waited on the skinny, sunlit sand that was the public beach. The island playground was empty at this hour. Pretty soon, the guy who rented out the slips would show up for work, see the houseboat, and stop by to be paid, a week in advance. He would give her a discount because she discounted his drinks every time he came into the hotel bar. She wasn’t worried about that. What worried her was everything else.
Suppose the slip guy was afflicted in the same way as Rich? Bean? Marion? Sam? The chief of police? Cedar Key was so small that it wouldn’t take Rich too long to check the various marinas. What would she say to him if he appeared?
Kate rubbed her dry, aching eyes and wished she had gotten a good night’s sleep. But by the time she’d finally crashed, Rocky had gone to bed, the dog was curled up in a ball on the back deck, the hawk had flown off somewhere, and she felt severed from her old life, adrift, directionless. She had gotten up at five to watch the sun rise and, by then, the hawk still hadn’t returned, the dog was asleep in the kitchen, and R
ocky slept on. Alone but not alone. It seemed to be the story of her life.
She walked out to the front deck and watched the trucks pulling into the marina parking lot, all of them hauling boats. Fishermen always got started early. A couple of the guys waved at her, locals she knew from the bar who hadn’t been coming around much since the weirdness had started. Then a spiffy new black truck swung to a stop in front of her houseboat and Fritz Small, Zee’s son, hopped out, a tall, lanky young man with tattooed arms. He looked like a redneck but had graduated with honors from Brown a couple of years ago. His wife, Diane, was with him. She was in graduate school in Gainesville.
Fritz waved and called out, “Morning, Kate.”
“Hey, Fritz, Diane. What brings you guys into town so early?”
“The bass are running,” Fritz said. “I, uh, just wanted to stop by and let you know that Dad will be dropping in to see you. He’s completely lost his mind, so don’t believe a word of what he says, Kate.”
“Lost his mind? You mean, about this end-time stuff?”
Diane rolled her eyes and curled her long, dark hair around her hand, then flicked it over her shoulder. “This goes well beyond the end-time. He heard about what happened to you last night, with Sam Dorset, and he’s going to tell you his crazy theories.”
“Word sure gets around this island pretty fast,” Kate remarked. “What’s his theory?”
“It’s total bullshit.” Fritz tugged his baseball cap down lower over his forehead. “Just take it with a grain of salt.” He leaned forward and patted her arm. “And take care, hear?”
And just like that, he and Diane hopped back into their truck and drove out of the lot. Kate stood there for a moment, frowning, sipping from her mug of coffee, then retreated to the back deck, not sure what to think. Less than half an hour later, she heard someone calling her name, got up again and moved to the side of the houseboat, where she could see the old man at the front. “Zee?”
“Who else would come calling with a bowl of hot grits and scrambled eggs, two forks, and a bottle of moonshine?” He patted the soft cooler slung over his shoulder, laughed, and came on board.
His stride seemed markedly slower than she remembered, his shoulders more hunched, his gray hair grayer, the pack on his back as prominent as a tumor. But he clutched the case that held his prized Stradivarius and the mirth in his rheumy blue eyes hadn’t changed one iota. Kate hugged him hello, their mutual history a third presence that mitigated whatever differences they might have.
“Good to see you, Zee.”
“You, too, hon.”
As she stepped back from him, she felt certain that among all the people she knew on Cedar Key, Zee hadn’t changed. The evil hadn’t claimed him. How could it? It would have to find him first. He rarely ventured away from his wooded camp on the other side of the island.
Kate pulled another chair up to the table and Zee plopped his thin body into it. He set his containers on the table, placed the Stradivarius case carefully on the floor next to his chair. “Can I get you some coffee? Juice? Toast?” she asked.
“All of the above would be magnificent, thanks.”
“Coffee black, straight up? Right?”
“You got it. And I’ll add a splash of moonshine.”
“And honey rather than jelly on the toast.”
“Ah, Kate, you have your old man’s memory.”
Kate ducked inside the houseboat for plates, napkins, coffee, and popped a couple of slices of her homemade date bread into the toaster. When she rejoined Zee on the back deck, he had opened his containers of food and his moonshine, and stood near the railing, the gorgeous violin tucked under his chin, bow poised.
“Got yourself a favorite tune, hon?”
“Charlie Daniels. ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia.’”
“Perfect choice.”
He got to his feet and began to play. The music exploded out across the water, into the early morning light, and transported her to a time when she and Jake had gone to a Charlie Daniels concert in Gainesville. Nearly half a million people had attended. But Zee’s grasp of the music and his incomparable talent, combined with the perfect tone and pitch of the violin, far surpassed that of Charlie Daniels. Zee and the violin were one, their skins melted together, their souls joined, he knew all about the devil. And before he finished playing, the dog came out onto the deck, the hawk returned, and Rocky wandered out to see what was going on. Dozens of people gathered in the parking lot, along the other slips, and boaters drew in closer, everyone spellbound.
Years ago when Zee had played for Kate and her dad, Kate had held the violin and had seen the mark that designated it as a genuine Stradivarius: “Antonius Stradivarius Cremonensis Faciebat Anno 1689.” She had no idea where Zee had gotten it or the genuine bow or, for that matter, how he had paid for it. She’d always suspected that Zee was a multimillionaire, from a combination of luck and serendipity, but even those details ceased to matter as he played.
When he finished, applause erupted, horns blasted from the Jet Skis, and the sailboats and fishing vessels drew up to the houseboat, clamoring for Zee’s autograph. He graciously accommodated all of them. When everyone had wandered away after Zee’s fifteen minutes of fame, he leaned toward Kate and Rocky.
“Listen close now. That devil has traveled from Georgia to Cedar Key, and all them people who clapped and cheered know it just as well as me.” As he spoke, he ran his hands lovingly over his violin, then returned it to its case, and attacked the food on his plate. In between noisy bites, he talked in a Southern drawl that was as much a part of him as his magnificent talent. “You need to get yourselves someplace isolated, where these fucks can’t find you. I would like it if you and Rocky joined our community on the far side of the island, but I ’spect you won’t do that, Kate. You’re too much like your daddy that way. Your daddy and me were tight, but he hated my religious bullshit, his term, not mine.”
“Slow down, Zee,” she said. “Fill me in.”
“There’s no filling in, hon. That’s my point. It’s them against us.” He pulled his pack off the chair, dug inside, brought out a semiautomatic weapon, and set it in the middle of the table. “Your daddy taught you how to shoot. Thirteen rounds in this sucker, with another twenty-six rounds in these two clips.” He set the clips on the table. “Take it, Kate. I promised your daddy I’d look after you; this is the best I can do short of you and yours joining me and mine. The end-time is here this time.” He dug into his pack again and brought out a small canvas bag. “There’re a dozen grenades in here. Satan’s legions are taking people on our island, using their bodies, and no one is safe.”
Kate stared at the gun, at the bag that held the grenades, and wondered where he’d gotten them and if he’d been stockpiling weapons since Y2K. “Explain what you mean by taking bodies, Zee.”
“I’m not sure how they do it, but I’ve seen it as it happens. Couple two, three weeks ago, I was standing in line at the Island Market. That fellow from the bank, Paul Crown, was in line in front of me, all spiffed up for work, you know? And suddenly he starts twitching all over, like he’s got some nervous condition. I asked him if he was okay, and when he glanced back at me, his eyes changed. It was like watching ink being poured over his eyes.”
Kate went utterly still inside. “But what is it?”
“Satan’s legions, like I said.”
“You mean, demons?” Rocky sounded incredulous.
“That’s right, son.”
Rocky shook his head. “I don’t believe in demons.”
“Spirits, then, evil ghosts. It doesn’t matter what you call them. Sam Dorset and what he tried to do to you last night, Kate? Ain’t Sam doing it. It’s the thing inside of him. He got taken weeks ago. Bean over at the hotel? Same damn thing. At least half the hotel employees have been taken, the ones who are involved in the daily functioning of the place.”
You’re in danger, Maddie’s note had said. Speak to no one, not even me. Did that mean Maddie had been
taken?
I’m trying to protect you, Rich had said. Please don’t make waves.
She knew Rich had been taken and if the same was true for Maddie, then why had both of them tried to warn her? Did that mean something of their humanity remained?
“Until now, you probably weren’t on their list because you’re just a part-timer.” Zee leaned forward, his voice quiet and intense. “But after last night? You can be sure you’ve been targeted.” His eyes went to Rocky. “And son, you haven’t been taken because you’re under the age of sixteen, least that’s the way I’m figuring it. But even that may not hold right and true much longer.”
“I don’t believe in demons,” Rocky said again. “And frankly, no disrespect intended, Mr. Small, but it sounds like science fiction to me.”
“I tell you what, son. I wish it was science fiction. They took the major island players first—a banker, the mayor, the newspaper editor, hotel owner, police, some of the small business owners, the doc, the librarian. I’ve been piecing this together for weeks. I really got suspicious, though, when those two bodies were found under the pier and there was just a brief mention of it in the paper. Ask yourselves this: What happened to them bodies? Is anyone investigating?” He looked hard at Kate, then at Rocky. “No. They got rid of the bodies.”
“How do you know that?” Rocky asked. “Did someone admit it?”
“Me and Frank Cole go back a ways. He’s been chief of police on the island for—what? Damn near twenty years? Hell, I’ve helped him get elected a bunch of times. I ran into him one day and asked him flat-out about them bodies. You know what the asshole says to me? ‘Ah, Zee, that’s police business, don’t worry yourself about it.’ That’s when I was pretty sure I was on the right track.” Zee patted Rocky’s arm. “Look, I’m not saying I got all the answers. But I’ve got some of the answers and now I’m giving them to you and your mom.”
Ghost Key Page 11
