He turned to her now, tried to make his voice casual.
"So what do you want to do now? The night's still young.
We don't have to go home yet. We could grab a bite to eat orw"
"The river," she said. "Let's go to the river..... The river? This was better than he had hoped for in even his most wildly optimistic moments. He studied face out of the corner of his eye. Was this for real?
It looked like it was.
,
"Okay," he said. He turned around in the Radio Shack parking lot and headed back through town, passing the theater, passin her street, passing the turnoff to his house. In a few rain. minutes the lights of Rio Verde were behind them, only darkened trailers and occasional run-down houses discernible in the darkness along the highway. Just before the bridge. he turned onto the dirt road that led to the river.
The car bumped over ruts and potholes, the road slopin sharply down to the water. There were other cars and pick. ups parked here, between the trees and bushes, the ange glow of cigarettes visible through some of the windows, and Aaron continued on until he found a secluded spot far past the last parked car.
He shut off the car engine, the radio and air-condifionin dying at the same time, and suddenly there was silence. H, could hear his own breathing in the closed car. And hers. He rolled down his window, smelled the skunkweed, heard the water, the cicadas.
He was not sure what to say, what to do, so he looked over at Cheri.
She was leaning her head back, her eyes closed, breathing deeply. "I love the water," she said.
He tried to talk, couldn't, cleared his throat. "Me, too." She opened her eyes. "Let's go skinny-dipping."
He blinked, thinking that she was joking, quickly realizing that she was not. Panicked, he tried to think of an excuse, a way to get out of it, but he had never been good at thinking on his feet, and he could only stammer, "I, uh, don't think we should."
"Why not?" she said teasingly. "Embarrassed?"
Yes, he thought, but only smiled wanly.
She opened the car door, got out. "Come on. It'll he fun." She began making her way through the brush and down the low bank to the water.
He got out of the car and followed her. He started down the slope, and his shoes slipped on the dirt. He grabbed a branch to keep from falling, and lowered himself to the shore.
Cheri was standing in front of the river, facing him, smiling, her features soft and clear in the moonlight. "Let's do it."
This is where they come out laughing, he thought. I take off my pants, and the football team rushes out and grabs them, and I have to go home in my underwear.
But no one emerged from the bushes as Cheri pulled the T-shirt over her head, and he could hear only his own breathing and the rush of the water as she reached around to unfasten her bra.
"Are you sure?" he began.
"Come on. It'll be fun. Don't worry." :
Her bra was off now, joining her T-shirt on the sand, and her breasts were perfect: large enough that they made her look like a woman but small enough that they did not droop even a centimeter once freed from the confines of the bra.
He forced himself to look away. ""Did you ever wonder why they named this town Rio Verde? Rio Verde means "Green River' in Spanish. It makes it sound like it's in the middle of some lush valley, but it's just an old desert town with this pathetic little river running by it.
And the river water's brown, not green." He was babbling and he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself. "Maybe it's like Greenland, you know? They named Greenland "Greenland' to attract people, even though it's really not green at all."
Cheri unzipped her pants, pulled them down. He looked back at her. Her panties were white and lacy. Through the transparent material he could see the thick triangular darkness of her pubic hair.
She grinned at him. "Your turn, bud. Drop 'em."
She's done this before, he thought. With Matt and Mike and Steve. Guys with bodes. How can I hope to compare? But he was already taking off his shoes, his socks.
He began unbuttoning his shirt. What if she laughed? What if she told all her friends that he wasn't.." big enough?
She put a tentative toe in the water, shivered. "Cold!" "Maybe we should skip it."
"Never." Laughing, she leaped into the water.
He quickly took off his pants and jumped in after her before she could see him. The water was indeed cold, unexpectedly so, and his penis shrunk instantly. He quickly reached between his legs and pulled on it, trying to make it grow, trying to make it big enough not to embarrass him, but his body wouldn't cooperate, and his organ remained soft and small. The river was shallow at this point, enough for them to stand, but they remained floating, and Cheri swam over to him. Her wet hair looked muddy in the moonlight, but he thought that she was most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
Her breasts brushed against his arm, soft and givi and she put a hand around his neck and gave him a s kiss on the mouth before laughing and swimming a His penis sprang instantly to life, his erection strong e in the cold water, and he paddled after her, feeling pier, more alive than he could remember having ever before. He no longer worried about her past, was longer concerned about being compared to other she'd known.
Tonight she was here, with him. And was happy.
He swam across the river toward her, chasing her, she squealed and pushed off from the opposite heading upriver, away from him. He sped after her, paddling furiously, and caught her near an overhangin[ ton wood grabbing her right foot. She laughed, tri twist away, and he saw the white smooth skin of her tocks. He held onto her foot, and she stopped tryi, escape, righting herself. She stood, he stood, and kissed, his tongue slipping easily and effortlessly into her mouth, tasting warm mint and fresh breath.
They drew apart as quickly as they had come to8 both breathing heavily.
He had felt her breasts him again. He wondered i she had felt his erect io hoped she had. :.
She looked away from him, looked up, and looked up as well. Above them, the cottonwood branches were moving, whipping to the left as if propelled unusually strong wind.
But there was no wind.
The temperature changed, instantly dropping ten degrees. Goose bumps popped up en masse on bare shoulders, and she shivered, hugging her warmth. Should he be hugging her? Should he be keeping her warm? He didn't know, and he didn't have make a decision one way or the other because she suddenly looked behind him, past him, and yelped in surprise.
:"L,.:
Her eyes widened in horror. "Daddy!"
Her father!
Oh, God. How was he going to explain this? His penis shriveled to nothing, and he turned around, looking toward the opposite bank. But it was not her father. He could not tell who the figure was--it was too dark to see much of anything--but he knew that it was not her father. Because it was not human.
The form, big and black and shadowy, slid smoothly down the dirt and into the water.
In the second before it entered the river, he saw lips and teeth and wavy watfley arms.
He and Cheri both began paddling simultaneously and desperately toward the opposite shore, toward their clothes and car and safety.
"It's not what you think, Daddy!" she was screaming, but she did not slow down in her effort to escape, did not make an effort to confront the creature.
Oh, God, Aaron thought. What if that thing really was her dad? What if she was some sort of haft-human creature, and now her father had caught her with a real human being and was going to punish her?
And him.
Cold slime slid against the bottom of his feet, pressed against his lower leg. In the dark water his fingers touched flesh the consistency of Jell-O. He stopped swimming, stopped paddling, stood. He saw humps of jet break the water, saw a black tentacled hand reach out and grab Cheri by the shoulder.
"No[" she screamed. "Daddyl"
There was a syncopated crack, then a squishy sound, as of wet pages being torn from a waterlogged book. Cheri thrashe
d wildly in the water, going down, another dark deformed hand grabbing her blond head.
She was jerking crazily, hands, head, and feet flailing in furious counter rhythms as though the parts of her body were all controlled by different and competing brains. Desperate screams came in staccato bursts between splashes, and Aaron remained rooted in place, unable to move, unable to scream, hoping that one of the other parked couples could hear them, hoping that he was dreaming and this wasn't really taking place.
He smelled gas and excrement, and then he noticed that the thrashing had stopped, the screams had been silenced. Chef and the creature were gone.
Then the hideous black shape emerged from the river, drawing to its full height, making a strange whistling, sucking sound that was quiet but could somehow be heard over the rush of the water. A dark, irregular object bobbed in front of the creature, floating down the river toward him, and Aaron saw immediately that it was Chefi---only her breasts were gone, her arms had shriveled, and as she floated past him he noticed with horror that she had the wdnlded crone face of an old woman.
The creature splashed through the water toward him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. He tried to run, tried to swim, but his muscles wouldn't obey his brain, and he remained frozen in place as the creature advanced, whistling, hissing, splashing. Water flew into his face, and then aJell-O hand wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him into the water toward a mouth that had far, far too many teeth.
"We used to swim here, too. Remember that?" Rid looked over at his brother, who nodded thoughtfully.
Rich watched the water flowing past his feet, swirlin! around the exposed cottonwood roots at the edge of that bank. ""So what do you think happened?"
"You really want to know?" ,. Rich didn't answer. :;-" :
"I think it's time we admit it. We've got ourselve, vampire here."
"Come on," Rich said, but his voice had no heart it.
,i "Look, Rich, I'm a cop. I deal in facts. I don't spe my time trying to jigsaw the facts so they jibe with my of things. I don't give a shit about preserving the integn of my philosophy. The fact is, we have two more hod drained of blood. That's pretty convincing evidence in book." ' "Don't give me that "I'm a cop. I deal in facts Who do you think you are, Joe Friday?"
"Fine. Have it your way." Robert walked away from brother, toward the two sheet-covered bodies on the b Beneath the thin cloth, the angular outlines of the for looked like skeletons.
Woods, standing on the other side of the bodies, I0o over at the police chief. "You're right," he said. "We have a vampire here.",
"You through with the onsite?"
The coroner nodded. ::
"Take 'em away."
"You find anything?,".Noods asked, "Tracks?" "Not yet."
"There must've been other kids parked out h Maybe you should ask them if they saw anything."
"You do your job, okay? Don't tell me how to do mine." "Sorry."
Woods was silent for a moment. Looking do at the ground, he cleared his throat. "Let me talk to families. It's their choice, of course, but I think the should be cremated." . :+ :
Robert started to say something, then thought better of it and nodded.
"
"Thanks." Woods nodded to Ted, pointed toward the bodies. "Help me load these in the wagon."
Robert turned away, stared at the water. He found himself thinking not of the murders, but of the river. At one time, it was supposed to have become part of the Central Arizona Project, and for years there'd been talk of damming it up somewhere down the line, but the job had always proved too cost prohibitive. Their river simply didn't have the volume of the Salt or the Verde, and it did not flow through an area that would make its water easily accessible to Phoenix. Miles of concrete aqueducts would have to be built to connect the river to the rest of the Project, and in these tight fiscal times such funds were not available. Hollis and his partners in the Rocking DID had been grateful for that. The river, along with Rio Verde's close proximity to Roosevelt Lake, were big selling points for the dude ranch. And big moneymakers for the town. Rio Verde survived the winter from money earned during the summer season.
Robert wondered how tourists would feel if they found out that a vampire was prowling the river. lil' Rich stepped up behind him" "D their Parents know?"
"They're on their way over." ,-....... "Who had to tell them?" i: I
"Who do you think?" Robert looked up. There was the sound of tires skidding on dirt, car doors slamming. "They're here."
Rich glanced toward the police vehicles parked in the clear area behind them, saw a van next to that, a frantically running man and woman hurrying away from the van toward them. A station wagon pulled in seconds behind the van.
He turned away, looked back toward the water as Robert walked over to talk to the dead teenagers' parents.
Rossiter was already waiting for Robert at the station when he arrived two hours later.
Robert got out of the cruiser, adjusted his belt. The FBI agent was standing in front of a white unmarked government car next to two other equally obvious plainclothes agents. All .taree were blond, had matching hairtmts and government issue sunglasses, and it was only a slight differentiation in the shade of their dark suits that enabled him to tell them apart. i
The state police officer stood by himself, next to his brown, not-so-new car, pretending to look through a note book.
Robert walked directly up to Rossiter. He was hot, sweaty, and tired, there were mud stains on his pants and sweat stains on his shirt, but he didn't give a damn. "So are you actually going to try to help me, or are you just going to hang around and get in my way?"
""You need more help than I can provide." The agent's voice was flat, but there was an undercurrent of resentment in it. Robert got the impression that Rossiter was angry at him for not yet solving the case.
He was angry at himself for the same reason, but he was even angrier at this suited asshole who was supposed to be providing him with help and support but instead was giving him only pressure.
Rossiter took off his sunglasses, coolly put them into his jacket pocket. "I'm afraid we're going to be taking over this investigation from here on."
"What the hell do you think you're--"
"You will still be involved and participating in a hand son basis, but the investigation will now be coordinated through our office. It's out of your jurisdiction..Because of the very specific and idiosyncratic nature of these crimes, and the fact that a large number of victims are involved, this has been classified by the Bureau as the work of a probable serial killer and has been given a number two priority level.
Our territorial fights have been established with the consent of the state police." He nodded toward Cash, still standing next to his, car.
The officer nodded back.
"What the state police say doesn't mean shit around here." Rossiter sighed condescendingly. "Mr. Carter, you know how the hierarchy works-7..".
"No, I don't."
"Despite what you seem to think, you are not the head honcho here. You are answerable to the mayor and the town council, if I have to, I'll go through them. I'll bring court orders and federal injunctions, and I'll have you out of office so fast it'll make your head spin. The Bureau does not deal lightly with intransigent law enforcement officers." He withdrew a folded sheet of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket. "I have here a list of things that I need you to provide. Documentation related to the case. We are both working toward the same end, and I think it would benefit us both if you would cooperate."
Robert stared at the agent, hating the bastard even more than he had before, but realizing Rossiter had all the cards, and Robert could play only if the agent deigned to deal him a hand.
Robert reached out, took the sheet of paper.
"I'll need everything by noon tomorrow. If there's anything that you forget or can't find, you can fax it to me." Rossiter motioned to the other agents. "Let's look at that scene."
Rich shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He tried to tell himself that it was merely a leftover reaction from his own high school days, a residual fear of the principal's office that he had never quite outgrown, but he knew that was not the case. 9.. ' ;::
It was something else. " '::: He stared across the desk at Principal Poole. The older man was appropriately subdued, the expression on his face suitably mournful, but there was nothing subdued or mournful about his eyes or body language. Rich had talked to a lot of people over the years, and he had developed a sort of sixth sense about these things.
He could tell when people were holding back or were outright lying by observing the way they sat, the way they moved, the way the other elements of their faces responded to the words coming from their lips.
And he knew that Principal Poole was not saddened at " all by the deaths of the two teenagers.
"It's tragic," the principal said, shaking his head sympathetically.
"It is always tragic when life is taken from people so young." ,
Rich dutifully wrote down the quote.. "Both Aaron and Cheri were model students, were irreplaceable members of our student body family, and they will be greatly missed. Mr. Cheever, our yearbook adviser, rmedme that the new yearbook will be dedicated two fine students."
Rich closed his notebook. Ordinarily, he would have stuck around longer, asked a few more questions, just in case he needed to fill some extra space on the front page, but right now he just wanted to get out of this office. The principal was making him very uneasy. The air in here felt stifling, and the way the older man kept staring at him, studying him, set his teeth on edge,..
He stood, smiled professionally. "Thank you, Mr. Poole. i Think I have enough here. If I have any follow-up questions, I'll give you a call."
The principal smiled. "You do that." He stood, extending his hand.
Rich shook it. He started toward the door, had almost reached it, when the principal cleared his throat. "Mr. Carter?" ":: " "
Rich turned. v-:.: .:- :
"Can I tell you something? Off the record?"
The Summoning Page 21
