I laughed. “I think that’s an impediment for most men.”
“What?” Uncle Bob whispered. “What’s she saying?”
I patted his cheek, then asked, “Do you know who did this? There have to be at least twenty women buried here.”
“Twenty-seven,” she said, bowing her head. “There are twenty-seven.”
After allowing myself to absorb that bit of knowledge, I asked, “Do you know their names? Where they’re from? Who did this?”
She looked down in regret. “Nothing. I know exactly how many there are, what they look like, but none of them talk.”
Disappointment gripped me. “I’m having that same problem.”
She glanced at me in surprise. “What are you anyway?”
I lifted one corner of my mouth. “I’m the portal, whenever you’re ready.”
She took in another superfluous breath and surprised me again by saying, “Somehow I knew that. I’m ready, I suppose. I’ve done what I needed to do. And the longer I stay, the longer Kenny will put off the rest of his life. I’m afraid in my haste to get him to come out here, he promised to wait for me, to never marry again.”
“Uh-oh,” I said.
“Can you give him a message for me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Can you tell him to build our house over there instead?” She pointed to a spot about fifty yards back. “And to put a garden here? In honor of these women? When he can, anyway. I’m not sure how long the state will keep the land tied up.”
“I’ll tell him.”
She looked back at her husband. His eyes were red-rimmed, his shoulders drawn as he regarded a wildflower he twirled in his hand.
“He is such a rascal,” she said. Then she stepped through.
Salient images of her life flashed before me as her essence soaked into my body, rushed through my veins. She’d taken ballet as a child but preferred saddles and cowboy boots to tutus and slippers. She had a horse named Cinnamon and a dog named Toast. They were buried on her parents’ farm outside of El Paso.
The first time she saw Kenny, he was getting ready to ride at the state fair. She was nineteen and enthralled with the way his leather chaps left one of his best features exposed. She told him so. They’d been together ever since except for a few weeks he’d gone on a drunken binge in Mexico after white bull named Hurricane crushed two vertebrae in his back. She hunted him down and found him passed out in a hotel room with another woman asleep beside him. With heart almost shattered, she sent the woman away, packed up his clothes, and brought him home to the ranch. She never told him she knew about the other woman, and he never mentioned it. It was likely he didn’t even remember her. That’s what she told herself.
But she loved him as fiercely as he rode bulls. His face was the last thing she saw before she passed, and it was her most prized memory.
I breathed deep as she crossed, and clasped Uncle Bob’s arm to steady myself.
He took hold of my elbows. “What just happened?” he asked as I caught my breath.
I wiped at the wetness under my eyes. “She crossed.”
“What? What does that mean?”
Uncle Bob didn’t know about that part. He knew I could communicate with the departed, but that was about it.
“She crossed to the other side,” I explained.
“You mean, you can’t talk to her anymore?”
“No. But she had no idea who did this.”
Noticing my distress, Agent Carson walked over to us. “Everything okay here?”
I straightened and let go of Uncle Bob. “There are twenty-seven.” Having seen enough, I started for Ubie’s SUV. “Don’t let them stop until they find all twenty-seven.”
After a rather quiet ride back, Uncle Bob dropped me off at Misery. He had questions. He wanted to know more about me. About what I did. But I set my mood to somber and didn’t give him a chance for idle chat.
I wondered if Reyes was still at work, then decided to check on Cookie instead. The class would almost be over and I wanted to make sure she’d passed it before heading over to Kim Millar’s apartment. If my plan was going to work, I would need Kim’s full cooperation. I hoped to get it, because I didn’t have a backup plan of any kind. Besides prayer.
Would Reyes talk to me afterwards? The late Mrs. Knight’s love for Kenny echoed my own for Reyes. I understood the fierceness of it. The absolute need. His pull was like a gravitational force on my heart.
“Are you okay, pumpkin?” Ubie asked me before I got out.
“I’m good. Thanks for not asking me anything.”
“Oh, that was just a reprieve. I have many questions, you can count on it.”
“Mm-kay.” I closed the door and sneaked in the back of the Crosshair Gun Shop, which was probably not my finest moment, considering it was a gun shop and everyone in the place could kill me from a hundred yards without so much as blinking an eye. But the classroom in the back of the store was where Noni held his concealed carry workshops.
The door to the classroom was open, and I found myself relieved he’d let Cookie in on such short notice. The class was full up with about twenty-five students. Normally, he didn’t allow more than fifteen or so.
“I understand,” Cookie said to Noni. “I do. But I just don’t know if it would be that easy, no matter the circumstances.”
I sneaked in the door and stood against the back wall.
Noni nodded at her. He had a medium build with thick black hair and olive skin. He owned a local body shop, but was also a gun expert and had taught gun safety for more than two decades. “Then you’ve taken everything from this class that I hoped you would. It’s not easy. No matter what the circumstances are, pointing your sidearm at someone, pulling the trigger is not nor should it ever be easy.”
Cookie stared absently, a thousand miles away. Something Noni said before I got there had her thinking, and that was always dangerous. I’d have to warn him next time.
“What if,” she said, her voice faltering before she caught it, “what if your best friend is being tortured in the apartment next door by a man who’d just put a gun to your daughter’s head?”
My lungs seized. I didn’t tell Cookie that part, the part about Earl Walker putting a gun to Amber’s head, until a few days ago. I hadn’t known how to tell her, and I didn’t deal as well with the whole torture thing as I’d wanted. How could I have expected any more from Cookie?
Clearly Uncle Bob had told Noni about that night. He didn’t seem surprised in the least. He leaned forward and locked gazes with her. “Then you aim straight.”
“What if, even if I’d been there, I couldn’t have pulled the trigger?” Her voice broke and I felt the weight of her sorrow from where I stood. It was almost more than I could bear.
“Cookie, that’s a decision you have to make before pulling your sidearm. I have a feeling you could’ve done it, given the circumstances.”
I started to step out of the room. Pain consumed me. Stole my breath. Watered my eyes. Not at the memory, but at the knowledge of how deeply that night had affected my best friend.
“And would you look at what the cat dragged in.” Noni had spotted me the moment I stepped into the room, but made it sound like I’d just arrived. I was grateful.
I smiled as everyone turned, offered a hesitant wave. “Just checking on my employee. You know, making sure she didn’t skip class. Or kill anyone. She’s been known to do that.” Cookie looked back at me, surprised at first, then self-conscious. She had absolutely no reason to be. “Oh, not kill anyone,” I corrected. “She’s never done that. But she’s a pro as skipping. She has a ribbon.”
“This is one of my former students, a PI who moonlights as a consultant for APD.” Noni waved me to the front. “I bet she has some stories to tell.”
I pulled my mouth into a grim line as I walked up for a hug. He knew darned well I had stories. Uncle Bob told him everything. Then I let my left dimple show through and turned to the class. “Actually, I do
have a story about an incident that happened during my class with Noni. We were all out at the firing range and this woman walked up wearing a skintight sweater, and Noni almost shot off his —”
“Oh, you,” Noni said, interrupting. He wrapped an arm around my neck and put me in a headlock. Then he scrubbed his knuckles on my scalp. “This one likes to fib,” he said, laughing off my whimpers of dismay. “I’d like to thank you all for being here, and I’ll get all this paperwork in. You should have your permits in a couple of months.” Everyone got up to leave, but Noni didn’t dare let go of my head. He really didn’t want that story getting out. It’s not like he actually hit anything. Thank god, because if he had, he would have had a lot of explaining to do to his wife.
“Coming to check on me?” Cookie asked, averting her gaze.
“Yes,” I said from between my scrunched cheeks. Noni was shaking hands and answering a few last-minute questions. “I was worried you’d run after the drop-and-roll incident.”
She laughed softly and picked up her bag. “This was a good class. You were right.”
“Told you.”
“And I have no idea what you were talking about,” she said, turning to leave. “Noni’s not a complete fanatic.”
Oh, crap. Noni’s grip tightened, and I felt the knuckles of death on my head again. Everyone was right. I’d never paid attention, but they were absolutely right: Payback was a bitch.
13
If it weren’t for physics and law enforcement, I’d be unstoppable.
—T-SHIRT
Outside the gun shop, I explained my text about Kim Millar to Cookie. Flabbergasted would be my best descriptor of her reaction. But I told her my plan, and she agreed with me. It was worth a shot. So, twenty minutes later, I found myself knocking on Kim’s turquoise door. And knocking. And knocking. I could feel her inside, but she didn’t want to answer. Her guilt thickened the air, gave it an oppressive texture.
After my third knock, the one where I added, “I’m not leaving, Kim,” she opened the door. She’d always looked fragile, and nothing had changed. She was like fine porcelain – so delicate, I feared one wrong word would shatter her.
“Sorry,” she said, gesturing me inside. “I was washing dishes.”
She didn’t look like she’d eaten a bite since I saw her last. “I was wondering if we could talk.”
“Sure.” She didn’t seem happy about the prospect but didn’t argue, either.
We sat in her tiny living room. Since the sun had set, a single lamp was the only light afforded us. It made the sharp angles of her face stand out.
“Have you seen him?” she asked, her voice small and unsure.
It angered me. “Yes, I have seen him, and he should’ve come to see you the minute he got out.”
She shook her head, defending him as always. “No, no, I understand. He doesn’t want anyone to know about me.”
“That was before, when he was being charged for murder. He has no reason not to visit you, Kim.”
Her eyes watered instantly. “He has every reason,” she said, almost begging me to understand. “You don’t know what he endured for me.”
“I do, actually.” When she offered me a questioning gaze, I said, “I have a picture from that time.”
“A picture?” Dread flooded her central nervous system.
“Yes, of Reyes being —” I didn’t know how to put it mildly, because there was nothing mild about the picture. “You told me a while back that Earl Walker had kept pictures in the walls. Is that what you meant? Pictures of Reyes being tortured?”
A slender hand covered her mouth as tears pushed past her lashes.
“Is that why you’ve been burning down all the places you lived growing up? Because Earl hid the pictures in the walls?”
Her surprise was palpable. Her grief even more so. She rose and went to the kitchen for two glasses of sweet tea and a tissue, then sat back down, her resolve solidifying. “Yes,” she said, closing her eyes in shame. “I’ve been burning down the buildings, the houses, the filth-infested garages… Everywhere we lived, every place Earl defiled my brother. They’re all soiled, stained with decay and degradation.” She handed me a glass of tea and took a drink herself.
I took a sip, giving her a moment, then asked, “Kim, I know we’ve talked about this, but did Earl ever… did he —?”
“No,” she said, swallowing. “Not me. Not ever.” A savage disgust fueled the next look she gave me. “He liked boys. He liked Reyes. He took women only when he had to, as a means to an end.” She cast me a puzzled gaze. “Why would any woman give that pile of sewage a second look?”
I shook my head, seeing a strength in her I had never seen before. A fierce determination to protect Reyes. She would do anything for him, and he didn’t even have the decency to visit after he got out. I was furious with him at that moment, but I could deal with that later. Now was about Kim. About getting her help. I took a sip as I watched her, giving her a moment to vent.
“Reyes did everything to protect me. He still does. With this apartment. With the money.”
I knew about the money. She’d told me, and it did play a big part in my plan. Fifty million dollars went a long way to appease insurance companies, especially when almost every place they’d lived, every place she’d burned to the ground, was little more than squalor. I placed a hand over hers to get her complete attention. “Kim, I think I can get you a deal.”
“A deal?”
“With the police. With the DA.”
“Oh.” She looked down, embarrassed. “Of course. I’ll be arrested. But I made sure no one was in those buildings. I would never have hurt anyone.”
“I know, and I’ll make sure they know it, too. I think that if we paid back the insurance companies and offered any other restitution, considering the unusual circumstances —”
“No!” She stood and backed away from me. “You have to leave Reyes out of this. No one knows he was ever a part of my life, and I will not drag him down for this. If anyone found out —”
I put my glass down and stood, too. “Kim, if it means —”
“No. Charley, he went to prison without anyone the wiser about what Earl did to him. You don’t understand the kind of scars he has, the kind of weight they carry.”
She was right. I didn’t understand. But if I was going to get her the deal of the century, I would need to bring him into it. Reyes may not have been willing to let the government know he had a pseudo-sister to save his own ass, but surely he would to keep his sister out of prison. I was scared to death she wouldn’t survive prison, and since I was going to be the one to turn her in, if she did go and she didn’t make it, whom would Reyes blame? He would have no choice but to blame me.
Kim sat again and took another sip to calm down. I did the same, giving her a moment to gather herself and me a moment to decide how clean I should come. If I went to Uncle Bob and the DA and explained everything, if I had evidence… A thought hit me. I wouldn’t need her statement. I had the picture. I had a piece of the very thing she was trying to burn down.
“Can you excuse me?” she asked.
I nodded as she rose to go to the bathroom, giving me time to think through my plan. I had no idea if it would really work or if the DA would have her in shackles the minute we stepped through the door. I needed some kind of guarantee. I checked the clock on my phone. Almost eight. Surely if I called Uncle Bob, he’d have time to call the DA and set something up for tomorrow morning. And if I had to, I’d confide completely in Ubie. He could tell me how to go about this while guaranteeing Kim’s rights and safety. Maybe I would even call Gemma, see if she could be at the meeting as backup. And I might should have a lawyer on standby in case things went south.
Kim came out after a few minutes and had clearly been crying. She’d pulled her hair into a hairband and changed her clothes. She went from fragile schoolmarm to international spy, covered in black from head to toe.
I raised my brows at her as she sat on the
sofa again, but when she sat down, a wave of dizziness overtook me. A warmth started at the back of my neck and spread throughout my body, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since lunch several hours earlier. My blood sugar was dropping fast. Maybe I’d force Reyes to cook me something when I got back. Then again, if he knew what I was planning, he might poison it for real.
Poison.
I blinked down at my tea. It blurred and tipped to the side, spilling over my hand and onto the carpet. Then Kim’s arms were around me. She pulled me onto the couch, laid me across it the best she could. I still felt crooked as she looked down at me.
“I’m so sorry, Charley. There’s one left.” Her brows knitted in thought. “And this one will be tricky.”
“You… you drugged me?”
“There’s just one left and then this will all be over. I’ve arranged everything. The money is in Reyes’s name. If he wants to pay back the insurance companies, fine. That will be up to him.”
My lids drifted shut.
“Wait,” she said, patting my cheek.
I blinked back to her.
“All the papers are in my desk in the kitchen. And here is a note for Reyes.” She held up a note. It blurred across my line of sight. “I don’t want the cops getting it,” she said, stuffing it into the pocket of my jeans. “Please, just tell him I’ve loved him since the first time I saw him.”
I knew the feeling.
“And, and tell him —” She thought a moment, then grinned. “Tell him I’ll see him on the flip side.”
Her voice blurred, too, and faded as I fell into a warm, fuzzy darkness.
“Unle Blob,” I said, fighting my tongue’s refusal to work right.
“I know you’re upset, Charley, but that’s no reason to call me names.”
Fifth Grave Past the Light: Number 5 in series (Charley Davidson) Page 18
