Devil's Oven

by Laura Benedict

  Bud picked up a piece of splintered wood from the floor. “If he took her, she didn’t go without a fight.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  When they reached the road leading to the state forest, Tripp almost didn’t take the turn. The clear part of his head, the part that had slipped further and further away as the day progressed, was telling him to just take Lila and run without stopping. Run to the nearest airport, or drive as fast as he dared to the interstate exchange fifteen miles away. They could drive south to his folks’ place. His dad wasn’t the kind of man to ask a lot of questions, and they could rest there for a day or two before leaving the country. Money might get to be an issue, but if he dealt with it right away, he might be able to get his money out before anyone realized he was leaving town.

  But he couldn’t make himself drive away. Here was the only place he truly felt safe, the only place he really knew. There were things they needed, whether they ended up on one of the mountains an hour or two north, stayed on Devil’s Oven, or managed to get out of the area completely. Money, supplies, and a little time for Lila to get rested up and with the program. She wasn’t in the best shape for travel.

  Tripp figured they would have an hour at most. The guy he had cold-cocked wouldn’t be out long, but it would take some time for them to figure out that Tripp hadn’t taken her to the hospital or even to the troopers’ station. The rank-and-file troopers like his friend, Keith, knew him as a good guy, with a string of drug, bootlegging, and arson arrests to his credit. He felt a little bad that he was putting Keith on the spot. Keith really was a good guy.

  • • •

  Tripp stood in front of the bedroom closet, a duffel bag sitting open on the bed behind him. Lila didn’t have much at the cabin: a pair of jeans, a couple of sweaters, the bra she had left hanging in his living room. It pleased him that when they were together, she liked to roam the house naked, maybe putting on the robe she had bought him or tossing a throw around her shoulders when she got cold. She looked so vulnerable when she was naked. Soft.

  A sound from the living room made him jump and he reached for his sidearm, but remembered he had laid it on the front table out of habit. He told himself there couldn’t be anything to be worried about yet.

  “Lila?” he said, coming slowly out of the bedroom.

  The single desk lamp he had turned on didn’t quite chase the shadows from Lila’s tired face. She stood near the door, the grubby blanket still wrapped around her. How strange for her—a woman who was so beautiful, so careful about her appearance, so attached to jewelry and other precious things—to be dragged down into filth and violence. It was more than her injuries, her sleep-teased hair, or the fact that the blanket looked like it had been driven over a hundred times. She looked broken to him.

  “Baby, I thought you were still asleep,” he said. “Let’s get you warm and out of those clothes.” He turned aside to adjust the thermostat beside the bedroom door.

  She was so quiet that it made him worry she couldn’t speak. But she had spoken down at the convenience store. She had asked for his help.

  “You’ve got some clothes in the bedroom,” he said. “Want a quick shower?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to kick himself for pressuring her. She had been through—he didn’t know exactly what, but he had seen what the creature did to Claude Dixon and Danelle Pettit. Lila had been left alive. He’d seen enough victims of violence to know that whatever had been done to her had affected her in ways he could never completely understand.

  When she spoke, her voice was subdued. Rocky.

  “Take me home.”

  “It’s all over, and you’re safe now,” he said. “You need to get as much rest as you can. We’re going to get you somewhere you can recover.”

  “I didn’t get it before,” she said. “What you were doing.”

  “I have a clean blanket here, too,” he said. “You know how you were bugging me to get the wool one dry-cleaned? I meant to tell you I bought a new one.”

  “You’re not…” Her voice faltered. “Something’s happened to you.”

  He laughed. “Do you know how beautiful you are? Even now?”

  “Not since that night,” she said. “Maybe before. I can’t remember.”

  “You can’t remember because that sonofabitch almost killed you.”

  She was more damaged than he had thought. Delusional. Once he took her in his arms, once he held her, she would relax. She was so different from that bitch, Jolene. He couldn’t tell Lila the truth about Jolene, that he had gone and had sex with her, just like she had suspected him of doing. What they had was too fragile right now, but he wouldn’t tell her even if she were stronger. She could never know how close Jolene had come to driving him out of his mind.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said. “You’re not going to touch me again.”

  “Baby, I know,” he said. “I know when you’ve been traumatized like this, you might not want anyone, you know, you might not want a man to touch you. We’ll handle it. Together. And I won’t touch you if you don’t want. Not until you say it’s time.”

  “I want the keys to one of your trucks,” she said.

  “Honey, we’re out of here, don’t worry. I’ve got our stuff in a bag. I packed up a cooler, too.”

  She let the blanket fall to the floor. Her hand was unsteady, but she was aiming the .44 at him. It was his service piece, the same gun he’d had her shooting in the backyard the past summer. She had joked about it, but he had seen how natural she was with it. She’d said that Bud had taken her shooting once or twice. Tripp suspected it had been more than twice. Right now, though, she wasn’t in any kind of shape to be handling a gun.

  “You don’t need that,” he said. “They aren’t coming for us. Not yet. We’ll be out of here before they think of it.” Holding his hands out in front of him to show he wasn’t going to hurt her, he took a step forward.

  “Stop!” she said. “Just stop!”

  He knew she wouldn’t shoot him. If only she would let him hold her.

  “That’s not the kind of person you are,” he said. He kept his voice low. Calm. “If you want me to die, I’ll kill myself for you, baby. Is that what you want? I’ll give you my life if it’s what you want. You know I will.”

  Her eyes welled up. She would be crying in a minute. It was all too much for her. She needed to be held. Protected from herself.

  He was close now.

  It was only dumb luck and his own clumsiness that saved him from the burst from the gun. Lunging for her, he tripped over the footstool Jolene had been sitting on hours earlier. He fell just a foot or so from Lila, surprising them both. But he was the first to recover and, still on the floor, he wrapped an arm around her legs.

  How can she try to kill me, the man who completes her? He needed to keep her near him, even if it killed them both.

  Tripp jerked her off her feet—one foot in a filthy gray sock, the other bare, red and swollen. Falling, she dropped the gun and tried to catch herself. Her cry broke his heart. Even worse was the muted thud of her head hitting the table beside the door.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  “I can’t stay here,” Bud said.

  Every nerve in his body told him to head up into the woods to look for Lila. The bastard had her somewhere out there, if he hadn’t already killed her. As nightmarish as that thought was, there was another one that ran a close second. The image of Lila with Tripp Morgan sat in the back of his head like an unwanted photograph, or a piece of porn like what he’d found on the office computer of the guy Claude had replaced: pictures of women having sex with animals; louche, grandfatherly men committing unspeakable acts with prepubescent girls. Morgan had to have done something to Lila, blackmailed or tricked her in some way into being with him. Because to think of it any other way made Bud feel sucker punched.

  “You won’t find anything,” Jolene said. “Not when it’s still dark. If you go, you should wait.”

  She was looking b
etter than she had when they first got to the trailer. She was calm, as always, but there was something else. She seemed to know her way around. It was almost as though she belonged there.

  Ivy was the one they should be worried about. If Jolene hadn’t been there when Ivy showed up with the shotgun, he would’ve taken the thing from her and, God help them both, probably beaten her with it. His frustration, his hatred for what she had allowed to happen to Lila, was that great.

  Does she really deserve that kind of punishment? Aren’t I the one who borrowed the money, who attracted an animal like Anthony in the first place?

  Ivy’s eyes were empty and her face was a sickly beige, as though her life’s blood had been drained away. She sat stiffly on the stained living room couch, her body inclined slightly toward Jolene’s. God only knew what the creature had done to her.

  “What if he didn’t take her?” Jolene said, looking up at him.

  Ivy sat forward, waking to her words.

  “Ivy said the trailer didn’t look like this when she left, that the bedroom door was open. What if Lila got away from him?”

  “Wouldn’t she have gone down to the house for help?” Bud looked at Ivy, who looked away. Bitch. What have you done? “What is it? What the hell do you know?” he shouted.

  Jolene put a hand out to keep him away.

  “I won’t,” Ivy said, narrowing her eyes. She curled her feet beneath her and shrank back into a corner of the couch. “You’re not going to hurt him.”

  Bud had plenty of experience with obstinate people, but he had always been kind and forgiving. Life was just too damn short to be an asshole, was what he had always told himself. He left it to greedy people like his old man to rule the world through meanness. But now he couldn’t hold himself back. He lunged for Ivy.

  “Tell me, you bitch!” He shook her by the shoulders so that her head bobbed back and forth like a toy, her white, doll-like hair whipping her face.

  “Stop it!” Jolene screamed. She tried to pry his hands away, but he paid no attention. Both she and Ivy were small. “She can’t tell you anything if you kill her!”

  He let Ivy go, pushing her against the couch so hard that she bounced forward again. She would’ve hit the table if Jolene hadn’t caught her and held her still.

  “You saw her, didn’t you?” He could barely get the words out, he was so angry. “Did he have her?” He bent down to her face. “Tell me!”

  Ivy bit her lip.

  “Ivy,” Jolene said. “Please.”

  “She ran out to the road. Toward town,” she whispered.

  “And your Saint Anthony?”

  Ivy shook her head.

  “I didn’t see him go after her,” she said. “I don’t know where he is.”

  • • •

  Down at the house, Bud opened the coat closet where Ivy had told him he would find the keys to the Buick. He didn’t want to chance driving Charity’s car. The club had been closed for an hour, and she was certain to have realized it was missing. She might have even reported it to the police. He took the keys from their hook, but also grabbed a knitted black cap from the closet’s shelf. He wasn’t the kind of man who blended in easily, and having his head shaved bald didn’t make him any less noticeable.

  Jolene had promised to call the hospital and check with the police—anonymously, if she could—to see if anyone had brought Lila in. She had tried to encourage him, but he could see she was doubtful. Maybe she knew Lila was dead. Maybe she just didn’t want to tell him the truth.

  He wondered who the hell she really was, how she knew the things she did. She didn’t seem inclined to tell him anything, and at this point, he had to be satisfied with the fact she’d helped him at all. His first concern was to find Lila. Nothing else mattered.

  • • •

  The cell phone Ivy had come up with sat on the Buick’s passenger seat, silent. As hard as he was praying for it to ring, he was certain Jolene wouldn’t learn that Lila was at the hospital or the police station. They weren’t going to be that lucky.

  There wasn’t much between the Luttrells’ place and the start of town near the Git ’n’ Go. A few county roads, including the one that ran above the town, and two private ones that didn’t reach very far. Besides an expanse of rocky land, they led to little: an abandoned school, a dairy operation, a junkyard that specialized in useless construction equipment. One circle of half-built houses whose contractor had run out of money a decade earlier. It took him only a few minutes to check out everything he could. In the hours before dawn, traffic was scarce and he was able to turn around in the middle of any road without a problem.

  He was sure Lila would’ve continued east, toward town, or maybe flagged a passing car or truck. She was hurt. How hurt, he didn’t want to consider.

  • • •

  Did he dare take the highway right through Alta? It was bullshit that he couldn’t let himself be seen near the town in which he owned two businesses, and paid more than his fair share of taxes. But getting locked up again wouldn’t help anyone.

  When he passed the Git ’n’ Go, its parking lot was filled with police cars, their lights flashing. Just like at the club. What the hell was going on? He couldn’t risk taking a long look, but when he saw the ambulance, his heart beat faster. He didn’t dare slow the Buick, but he was certain it had to be about Lila. Within a couple seconds, he was turning into the trailer park’s entrance so he could double back. It didn’t matter if they captured him. He had to know.

  The phone beside him rang and he fumbled for it.

  “I think they found her,” Bud said. He felt such a wave of joy that he wanted to laugh.

  “No, no, no,” Jolene said. “No one found Lila. I talked to Charity and she said they know you’re out of jail. You should come back here. You should come back here now, Bud.”

  “The police are at the Git ’n’ Go,” he said. “There’s an ambulance. They’ve got to have her.”

  Jolene was silent.

  “What?” he said.

  “You should come back to Ivy’s,” she said. “It’s not right.”

  “What? You know by magic or something?” he said. “She’s there. I know she’s there.”

  “Did you see her? If I told you I did know, would you believe me?”

  “Look, Jolene. I’ve gone along with this so far, and I know there’s a lot going on that I don’t understand,” he said. “But this I do understand: If they found her, she can tell them I didn’t have anything to do with what happened.”

  “I won’t be there to help you,” Jolene said. She sounded defeated.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said. “With any luck I’ll call you back in an hour.” He closed the phone, ending the call before she could respond.

  Lila was so close! But Jolene’s voice was still in his head. If I told you I did know, would you believe me?

  Damn. What if she was right?

  Driving past the store as slowly as he dared, he saw that all the same vehicles were still there. The ambulance sat with its lights flashing, its back doors open.

  A hundred yards on, he shut off the headlights and eased the Buick onto the highway’s shoulder.

  So close.

  • • •

  It wasn’t Lila lying on the gurney about to be loaded into the ambulance. The man was conscious and seemed to be trying to get up, but the EMTs eased him back down. Bud recognized Detective Johnson. Detectives didn’t hang around random accidents or crime scenes. Lila had to be nearby or they had some idea that this guy was connected. Bud strained at the naked tangle of blackberry branches, desperate to hear what was going on down in the parking lot, but he couldn’t risk getting closer. When Johnson nodded to the EMTs, they fastened the straps around the gurney and started loading the finally calm—or at least sedated—man into the ambulance.

  Johnson waved over the two uniformed troopers. When they finished talking, the troopers moved quickly to their cars, and Johnson headed for his. They were leaving in a hurry, whic
h meant something was happening.

  The blackberry branches tore at Bud’s coat and hands as he tried to get back to his own car. But their thorns held him fast. He cursed. Behind him, he heard one of the police cars start. Finally, with a groan of frustration, he pulled out of the coat and let the greedy branches embrace it.

  He ran.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Ivy stood at the window, her fingertips arched, tense, on the sill. The thinning night had turned the sky the color of tarnished silver.

  “I’ll make you some tea,” Jolene said. “Maybe something to eat?”

  “He’s not coming back, is he?” Ivy said.

  Jolene knew she could tell Ivy what she wanted to hear—that Anthony would probably return. She also knew if he didn’t return, they would have to go out and find him to end it all.

  What’s going to happen to me when it’s over?

  “What you did wasn’t wrong,” Jolene said. “It’s not a crime to want to be loved.”

  Ivy turned away from the window. Seeing the confusion and depth of emotion in her face, and the fading violet-gray of her aura, Jolene wanted to wrap her arms around Ivy. To heal her.

  Wisps of Ivy’s fine hair had escaped the old-fashioned blue bow clipping it back from her face. Somewhere behind Ivy’s eyes, Jolene could see the child she had loved. But that child was disappearing even as they stood facing one another. The Ivy she’d known was almost lost to them both.

  “Who are you?” Ivy said. There was fear in her voice.

  Jolene hated that she sounded so afraid.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Jolene said.

  “They’re going to punish me,” Ivy said. “And I don’t care.”

  “Please, Ivy. Let me help you.”

  “I-I can’t even…” Ivy stared at her for a moment, then pushed past her. When she found a safe distance, she turned back to Jolene. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said. “You come in here with Bud Tucker like you have a right to, and then tell me you’ll make me some tea?”