by Vella Munn
Thank you for saying that. “Either that or Masauwu directed them to me. How intelligent are the grays? Do they make their own decisions or does Masauwu command them when it comes to exacting revenge? How does the deity get his point across? Do the grays want to do as they’re directed?”
He groaned. “You’re asking questions we’ll never know the answer to.”
“Maybe.” She again indicated the folder. “I don’t know as much about the Hopi as I wish I did. Like I said, there are a number of versions of their mythology. The man who wrote about Masauwu said that’s due to several factors, not the least of which is Hopi determination to ensure privacy. Their mythology isn’t outsiders’ business.”
“You told me.”
“Yes, but just enough for you to hopefully get what I’ve been thinking. If the underworld is a place for rest and renewal, it should remain sacred to the Hopi.”
“Set aside from reality.” He settled himself into his chair.
“Does your back always hurt?” she asked.
“No. It’s eased up. I’m used to dealing with it.”
In other words, there wasn’t a woman he told his deepest secrets to? If that was true, she understood. She confided in Grandpa and Mia, but she didn’t live with them. She woke up alone and went to bed the same way.
“We’ve been talking about Hopi tradition and belief,” he said, “but in the end, telling ourselves we’ve found an explanation for why the grays act the way they do doesn’t change anything. We still have dangerous animals running loose.”
“And being hunted.”
He grunted. “I’m not sure ‘being hunted’ is an accurate description of what’s happening. The way things stand, they aren’t in much danger.” He worked the inside of his mouth. “It’d be different if law enforcement knew one of the grays has been here.”
Cold fear washed through her. “What are you saying?”
“I know what you’re thinking, but it isn’t that. I’m worried for you. The things the grays did to Cheryl—”
“I’m sorry you had to see that. Yes, they’re violent at times, but what about their compassion? Hope would have died if they hadn’t taken me to her.”
“I know.” He sighed. “That complicates things.”
“Yes, it does. I wish… I’m not sure what I want.”
“Look, we’re tired. I need to go home and get some sleep so I can do my job tomorrow.”
“Me too. I wish I could take the day off and spend part of it with Hope. Maybe having me around will remind her of how close she came to dying and give her a reason to— Am I crazy to think like that?”
“I’m concerned for her too. I’m also thinking of adopting the hound.”
She shook her head, smiling as she did. “You might have competition.”
“You?”
“Me. I think I’d get the nod since I rescued him and have all this room.”
When he didn’t reply, she nearly told him she’d let him have first dibs if he felt strongly about providing the hound with a home. Then he stood and leaned over her with his hands on her chair’s armrests, and nothing else mattered.
“Be careful,” he whispered. “If Gun shows up again, please—take care of yourself, all right?”
His breath caressed her face. The world went away, and she placed her hands around his neck. The right or wrong of what she was doing didn’t matter as she touched her mouth to his. He stayed where he was, his body unmoving and there, his features now blurred.
They kissed, just that, kissed. She didn’t think, simply felt. Loosened a little inside. Held on and followed the journey as his essence seeped into her.
The seconds passed, quiet and fulfilling moments of peace and energy. Then a faint sound escaped him and she knew.
“It’s your back,” she said with her lips still on his.
“Wrong position, that’s all.”
His eyes closed and his mouth tightened as he straightened. Then he opened his eyes and stared at her almost as if he’d never seen her. She felt the same way, full of a strange new sensation, excited and scared rolled together.
“Now I really have to leave.” He glanced at the door but remained inches away.
Let him go. Take him into your dreams but leave it like that.
“All right.”
He jammed his hands into his back pockets. “About what I said, be careful. You saved three lives. That’s enough. Let the system do its job.”
“Darick?” It seemed as if she’d been speaking his name all her life. “I hear what you’re saying, but there’s something else about Masauwu.”
“What is it?”
Not long ago, she’d been certain she wouldn’t show Darick the drawing because he wasn’t Native American, but he’d never understand something vital if she didn’t.
Not taking her attention off him, she retrieved the folder and withdrew the half sheet of paper with the pencil drawing. She handed it to him.
Dividing his attention between her and the paper, he angled it so lamplight reached it. Except for the word ‘Masauwu’ at the top, there was no explanation of what the artist had created or why, but she didn’t need one. The Earth God was depicted as a tall, long-haired man in a cape that covered him from shoulders to feet. One half of the cape was white, the other a deep gray. Earth God’s stance made her think of a warrior ready for war. He carried a large knife in his right hand, while the left rested on the head of a four-legged something that could have been a dog, coyote or wolf. Several other figures were behind the canine and looking at Earth God as if seeking his protection. He stood in a depression she’d surmised was the entrance to the underworld, and stared at a nearly black cloudlike form. A skeleton lay next to the form.
“My god,” Darick muttered. “I’m sorry but—I don’t know what else to say.”
“You don’t need to. I think—I believe this represents what commands the grays.”
“The two colors on the cape…”
“Represent Masauwu’s two sides, one peaceful, the other dark.”
Darick’s hand was less than steady as he returned the paper to her. “I wish this didn’t exist.”
“But it does.”
“And now you know about it. That’s what concerns me the most, that maybe you’ve convinced yourself you need to carry out Masauwu’s agenda. You don’t. You’ve done enough.”
“No, I haven’t.”
* * * *
Elizabeth cursed under her breath and tried to shove James to his side of the bed. He’d been thrashing and snoring ever since they’d given up on trying to have sex. She’d told him not to worry about not being able to perform. After all, he had a great deal on his mind. It was going to take time to put his wife’s death behind him. At least that’s what she’d told him, but could they ever move beyond what had happened to Cheryl? Her first husband had died in an auto accident going on fifteen years ago and there were still times when her mind insisted on revisiting her emotions when she’d opened the door the evening of July twentieth find two police officers staring at her.
No, darn it! She wasn’t going to let that tape replay tonight. Neither was she going to mentally go over what she’d learned of Cheryl’s death from the news. Come morning, she’d try to talk James into calling a lawyer to see what hoops he’d have to jump through in order to sell the property. So far she’d kept her mouth shut, but she needed to make it clear she would never live there. Her apartment wasn’t anything she could brag about, but it was better than a mobile on crappy land, no neighbors and an almost useless well. Most of all, she couldn’t see herself or James spending so much as a day where Cheryl had been killed.
Killed or murdered—what difference did it make? Dead was dead.
She pushed the lump that was the man she wasn’t sure she was in love with then swore. Just a few months ago she’d told her sister she was off men for the rest of her life. They were more trouble than they worth, so why hadn’t she told James to leave her alone when he’d offer
ed to buy her a drink? His deep blue eyes and not bad physique had had something to do with it, but darn it, she’d been telling the two girlfriends she’d come to the bar with that, without a man around, she was freer than she’d been in years.
Freer but lonely. Wanting to prove to someone, maybe herself, that she was still attractive.
Giving up on getting her share of the bed, she rolled onto her side so she could see the clock. It wouldn’t be light for nearly five hours and sleep wasn’t anywhere within reach. No stranger to insomnia, she sat and put her feet on the floor. She couldn’t decide whether to turn on the TV or see if anyone she knew was on Facebook. At least she could close the bedroom door so James’ snoring would stop grating on her nerves.
Halfway through standing, a loud crack had her whirling toward the window that faced the lot behind the apartment complex. A dog growled.
Terror sent her to the bedroom door. She yanked it open. Because James had insisted on leaving a lamp on in the living room, light spilled into the bedroom and she saw—
“No, oh god, no! James! James!”
A massive dog filled the opening where glass had been, moving slowly and deliberately, seemingly unconcerned about getting cut. Once he was all the way in, he walked over to James, who frantically wrestled with the tangled sheets. A second big mutt slipped through the opening and joined the first. They stood on one side of the bed, just stood with their mouths open and tails wagging.
“James! James!”
Neither dog acknowledged her existence. She knew in ways she’d never known anything that these were the creatures that had killed Cheryl. They’d come here to do the same to James—and maybe her.
The larger dog leapt onto the bed, although levitating might have been a more accurate description. It closed its teeth around the sheet and yanked, exposing James’ naked body. He screamed, making no sense, sounding like something from a horror movie.
Elizabeth clamped a hand over her mouth. She had to be quiet. Quiet! Otherwise, the dogs might come after her. Oh God, maybe they will anyway!
Don’t move. Please, don’t move!
James screamed again, the sound high and long. He thrashed and shoved against the animal that had straddled him and held him down. The other dog stood at the foot of the bed, James’ foot in its mouth.
Horror built on horror as she realized that two other dogs had entered the room. They were smaller, barking and snarling in contrast to the original attackers’ eerie growls. It can’t be! Still, it was as if the larger dogs were holding James in place for the newcomers.
One of the smaller mutts sprang onto the bed and took hold of James’ other foot. James kicked. The second newcomer aimed its mouth at James’ flailing hand.
Help! She had to get help. Call nine-one-one.
Propelled by James’ shrieks, she stumbled into the kitchen, where her cell phone was charging. She yanked the phone free. She had her short nightgown on, and it was cold out, but those things didn’t stop her from releasing the deadbolt and rushing outside. She slammed the door against James’ blubbering.
The neighbors on either side of her were in their doorways, their outside lights on. “They’re here!” she broke in before the nine-one-one operator finished her opening speech. “Those damn dogs, they’re here. Killing him. Oh god, killing him.”
“Killing who? Calm down. I can’t understand you.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, the heavyset woman who lived next door yelled into her own cell phone. “We’re at the White Sands apartments on Lincoln Street. Something awful is happening. A man is—I’ve never heard anything like the sounds he’s making. What? Yes, police and an ambulance. It’s awful. I think—I think it’s those dogs.”
Elizabeth stared at the other woman. “It is. They’re killing him.”
Still holding on to her phone, the heavyset woman pulled Elizabeth to her.
“Get my gun,” another neighbor demanded. “Now, damn it.”
* * * *
Darick was halfway between asleep and somewhere else when his cell phone rang. Because he kept it on his nightstand, he didn’t have to get out of bed to answer. It was still dark out, which meant he wasn’t going to like what his caller was about to say.
“Darick, it’s Detective Anders. Are you awake enough to listen?”
He sat, nearly yelping as he did. His back hated middle-of-the-night quick movements. “Yes. What time is it?”
“Going on for four. There’s been another attack.”
His heart felt as if it was being squeezed. “Who?” Please not Niko.
“Cheryl Moyan’s husband. Nine-one-one got the call less than an hour ago. A patrolman, the only officer on duty I might add, went over there. As soon as he got a look at things, he called me. I’ve relayed what information I have to state police and am getting dressed. If I give you the address, do you want to join me there?”
No. “Yeah.”
Chapter Ten
Niko hadn’t been at school long enough to settle in when a student handed her a note saying someone was waiting for her in the office. She was surprised and yet she wasn’t when she walked in to find Darick there. He was dressed for work but hadn’t shaved, and his hair was mussed. The principal greeted her by informing her that he’d arranged to have another aide cover for her.
“The Fish and Wildlife officer told me just enough about why he wants you to go with him that I’m guessing you won’t be back today,” Jenkin Meadows said. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“What’s happening?” Niko asked Darick.
Instead of answering, Darick indicated he wanted her to come outside with him. “What is it?” she asked when they were alone.
“Another killing.”
“No! Who?”
“Cheryl’s husband. I just left where it happened.”
Her head buzzed. “When…?”
“When was he killed? I can’t give you an exact time, but he was attacked around three. The grays broke a window to get in.”
“No. Oh no.”
“James was staying with his girlfriend. I think you need to see the crime scene.”
“You want me to—?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. What do I have to do with—?”
“Let me spell something out. Law enforcement didn’t know where to look for James and he wasn’t answering his cell.”
Although she was still reeling from what Darick had told her, she forced herself to start toward his vehicle. If Darick had seen where the killing had taken place, she could do the same. Prove her strength to him and herself.
“According to Cheryl’s brother, who has already been informed of the latest,” Darick said as he opened the passenger-side door, “he and James had been at James’ place so Lucky could get some of Cheryl’s things.”
“Oh.”
He positioned himself so she couldn’t get in. “I have to ask, were you there? Maybe you saw James. Followed him. Discovered where he was staying.”
“What?”
He leaned closer. “Don’t make me spell it out. You hate what James did to the hound. Maybe you told the grays where to find him.”
“You’re talking crazy. What do you think I did, call their cell phones? Maybe leave them a text message?”
He stepped aside. “Get in. If nothing else, you need to understand what happened. It isn’t pretty.”
“You can’t order—”
“Are you afraid of seeing what you maybe had a hand in?”
She had to force herself not to punch him. “Don’t say that. I’m not Masauwu.”
For moment he looked exhausted. Then he pulled himself together. “The grays led you to Hope. If that isn’t proof that they’re capable of communicating with you, and the other way around, I don’t know what is.”
“So what’s your conclusion? That I murdered James by proxy?” She could barely believe she’d said that.
“You hated him.”
“I hated what
he did. Darick, I can’t make you believe me, but I had nothing to do with happened. If trying to get me to confess to your insane theory is the only reason you came for me—”
“No.” He scrubbed his chin. “That was a stupid thing for me to say. I’m sorry. Knowing the grays are around, that one of them knows where you live, scares the hell out of me. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
It won’t. Because she had nothing to back her statement up with, she forced herself to slide past him and get into the SUV. She immediately felt trapped. At the same time, the sense of something being completed overtook her. The man who had tortured Hound had paid the ultimate price for his crime.
Yes, a crime.
“I went to where I’m taking you not long after Detective Anders called,” Darick said as he started the vehicle. “The police are still there, which means our movements are going to be limited.”
He hadn’t said anything more about his belief that she needed to be part of this, but he was right. If she believed as Masauwu did about justice, and she did, she had to immerse herself in the reality. Being this close to Darick was hard on her nerves, but that didn’t matter nearly as much as trying to imagine what he’d been doing and seeing since the middle-of-the-night call.
“Was the girlfriend there?” she asked. “Was she injured?”
“Not a scratch. I talked to her. She saw the beginning of the attack.”
“Oh my god.” She stared at Darick who kept his attention on the road. “How is she?”
“Not good. A neighbor took Elizabeth into her apartment and gave her a drink. I didn’t get much that was coherent out of her. Neither did Anders. The neighbor offered to take her to the hospital. I’m guessing she’ll be getting sedation of some kind.”
“What did she say?” she asked as they headed north. It was drizzling, with fog and clouds meeting in the middle. The forecast was for two days of the same, followed by clear but cold weather.
“That there were four attackers, two considerably larger than the others.”
“Smoke, Gun, and Smoke’s puppies.”
