by Peter Nealen
I took over trying, in vain, to comfort Janice Robinson, while Johnny called for the paramedics to come get her. It would be diagnosed as a psychotic break due to the stress of her daughter going missing. Her raving about the Shadowman and what it had done to Rebecca would be dismissed as hallucinations or delusions. In time, she might even come to believe it. I was sure they’d probably pump her full of drugs to make sure she believed it. I didn’t like it, but there really wasn’t much of anything I could do about it, aside from do my damnedest to put this Shadowman down and put a monkey wrench into whatever it and Mayhew were trying to do.
Jed Horn, Redneck Supernatural Avenger. That’s me.
Chapter 8
Well, now I had four missing people, one of them almost certainly dead, a woman reduced to psychosis, two places marred by demonic symbols (that I knew of), no truck, and no real leads. It was already getting on toward late afternoon, and I had no illusions that things would get any better after the sun went down.
It was about to get worse. Johnny came and found me in Father Pat’s living room. He was shoving his phone back in his trouser pocket, and had that look on his face. “What now?” I asked.
“The Mayor heard you were in town. He wants to see you,” he said. He probably used the same tone of voice when informing families that their loved ones had died in a car crash.
Mayor McKinney doesn’t like me. Actually, that’s too mild. He hates my guts. He is the burly, loud type, who is very assured of everything, doesn’t believe in anything he can’t see, or in things he can see, if he can’t adequately explain them within his experience, and has therefore decided to blame all the unfortunate supernatural happenings in Silverton on me, since I usually happen to be there when they are happening. The fact that my work has often coincided with the disruption of the peace of his mountain tourist-trap town with gunfire, fires, and a couple of howling monstrosities has further solidified his enmity.
“What does he want?” I asked crossly. I was studying a map of the town that Father Pat had stashed away, with the locations of Mayhew’s center and the Robinson house marked on it. I was trying to figure out where Mayhew or his minions might strike next, but wasn’t having a lot of luck. I’m not the most conversant in the symbols associated with demonology; I can recognize them easily enough, but delving too deep into what they mean or which ones are supposed to do what is extremely dangerous. I like to think I’m too smart to fall into that trap.
Johnny shook his head. “He didn’t say. He seemed pretty ticked, though.”
I snorted. “Really? McKinney is mad that I’m back in town? That’s a first.” I motioned to the map. “I’m kinda busy here, so unless he’s got something useful, or wants to charge me with something, he can wait.” I was in no mood to play McKinney’s games.
“Jed…”
I glared up at him. “This is some heavy stuff going on, Johnny,” I told him, my voice hard. “I don’t care if McKinney thinks he’s king in this little valley; I don’t answer to him, you know I haven’t broken any laws…” unless you count discharging firearms within the city limits, but no one had heard that “…so he can sit on it until I’m ready to see him.” Which would be when hell froze over.
“He’s already got half the police department looking for any excuse to arrest you,” Johnny pointed out. “I might be senior enough to keep you walking around while I’m with you, but I’ve got other problems to attend to besides this case. And if you really piss him off, he might be able to order me to arrest you.”
“On what charge?” I bit out. I was not amused. People on power trips irritate me on good days, which this most decidedly was not. “Is ‘wrongful arrest’ ringing any bells?”
“I happen to know you can’t afford the legal representation to make that stick if it happens, Jed,” he protested. “I’m trying to help you out here. Let’s go talk to the Mayor and see if we can get him to calm down.”
I really didn’t want to. I figured it would be a complete waste of time. But I needed Johnny’s help, and if he could think of a way to get McKinney off my back, I should go along with it. I grumbled and growled, and I really was mad about having to drop what I was doing to go play politics with Mr. Bighead, but I got up and followed Johnny out.
It was a short drive to City Hall, but then it’s a short drive to anywhere in Silverton. The building wasn’t large, and it wasn’t nearly as old as a lot of the rest of the town. It had been built just before the mill closed down, so it was a thoroughly modern brick of concrete and glass. It was ugly as sin, and perfectly suited the bloated walrus of government overreach sitting inside waiting for us.
I have a bit of a problem with self-important authority figures. Does it show?
Johnny led the way inside, and I had to check my 1911 and both my knives. Johnny, of course, could remain armed, but I had to go defenseless before the Great and Powerful Mayor of the tiny town of Silverton. It just made me grumpier. I followed Johnny with my lips pressed tightly together, determined to say as little as possible past monosyllables, and get out of there as quickly and efficiently as possible.
When we entered the Mayor’s office, he was just hanging up the phone. McKinney was easily two hundred fifty pounds, very little of it muscle. He was fat, round-faced, and blustery even when he wasn’t speaking. He glowered at me as soon as we walked in. I returned his glare with an icy stare of my own. Some might find him intimidating, but compared to a Shadowman, he was just a fat, balding, sweaty guy in a white shirt and slacks. He just annoyed me.
“Mark told me you were here again,” he growled, ignoring Johnny. “I’m pretty sure I told you last time not to ever show your face in my town again.”
“And I’m pretty sure that this is still a free country, and I can go and show my face wherever I damned well please,” I snapped back. There went my monosyllable idea. “You’re the mayor, not king of your own little valley, McKinney. You don’t get to dictate who comes and goes.”
His piggy little eyes narrowed. I could almost hear Johnny slapping his forehead. “I could have you in handcuffs, mister,” he started to bluster.
I guess I was a little strung out over the whole demonic attacks thing. I slammed my fist on his desk and leaned in with a snarl. McKinney looked shocked and a little scared, for the first time since I’d met him three years before. “Really? You ever hear of something called ‘wrongful arrest,’ there, genius? Show me what crime I’ve committed that gives you justification for having me arrested.”
McKinney didn’t like being scared, particularly not by the likes of me. It made him angry. “Oh, I’ll think of something. Don’t you worry about that. You’re trouble; you have been since the first day you set foot in this town, and I’ll have you out or in jail, trust me on that.”
Johnny broke in before I could rant any further. “I’m afraid Jed’s right, Mr. Mayor,” he said. He was polite, but Johnny’s never been subservient before anybody in his life, and he wasn’t going to start with McKinney. “We have no legal reason to detain him.” He was also leaving out the gunfire that nobody had heard the night before, too. “And even if you ordered me to, without that legal reason, I’d have to refuse.”
McKinney turned purple at that. “Get out!” he bellowed. “Get the hell out of my office!” He pointed a sausage finger at Johnny. “You stay!”
I left; I confess not without a sneer that I made sure McKinney saw. The guy’s ham-fisted assumption of authority over everyone around him just makes me mad.
Even with the door shut, as I loitered outside McKinney’s office, I could hear the shouting match going on inside. To call McKinney’s language abusive would be an understatement, but Johnny wasn’t taking any of it, and was roaring right back. The guy had a vocabulary that many of us would have respected back when I was a Marine.
Finally, after the argument reached such a level of volume, profanity, and conflicting voices that it became unintelligible through the door, Johnny slammed his way out of the office. If we’d
been in a cartoon, steam would have been coming out of his ears. I fell in beside him as he stormed toward the lobby.
Neither of us spoke until after I had retrieved my .45 and we were outside. Johnny was still fuming.
“I hope I didn’t put your job in jeopardy, Johnny,” I ventured. “I just can’t stand that guy, and I won’t be pushed around.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. McKinney and I have never exactly been on good terms. He’s tried to force me out before, but the town charter requires a majority of the city council to fire the chief of police, and there are enough council members who hate his guts that I’m safe.” He chuckled dryly. “Let’s just say that this isn’t the first shouting match I’ve had with him.”
Even as he was speaking, a dark blue Lexus sedan was pulling up to city hall. It was gleaming clean, and looked brand new. I’m no expert on cars, but I was pretty sure it was a very, very expensive car. It looked out of place among the older cars and pickups that were everywhere in Silverton.
Something about it drew my eye, and I watched as the driver parked, shut down the engine, and opened the door. Johnny had noticed my interest, and had fallen silent, turning to see what I was looking at.
Somehow I wasn’t surprised when Mayhew got out of the car. He was dressed well, in slacks and a sport coat, looking considerably better than my own faded flannel shirt and battered jeans. His hair was immaculate. I’d detest him just for that, if I didn’t already have better reasons.
He saw me watching him, and stared back with a smirk before turning and walking into city hall.
“That misbegotten…” I grumbled. “Johnny, I don’t know what else you’ve got to do today, but I need to keep an eye on this guy.”
Johnny frowned. “I can’t hang around here and shadow him,” he said, “I do have other duties, including paperwork and reports that I’ve been avoiding by hanging out with you.” He rubbed his chin. “You’re sure that Mayhew is involved?”
“I’m telling you, his center reeks of witchcraft,” I replied. “Even if he’s not the center of it, he should lead me to whoever or whatever is.”
Johnny frowned some more. “If he drives away, you’re not exactly equipped to follow him.” Which was true enough—that just made me angrier about my truck being totaled. “Tell you what, I’ve got to go do other work, but I’ll send somebody with wheels. Shouldn’t take long. Hopefully he won’t take off while you’re waiting.”
I grimaced. It was entirely too likely that Mayhew would be gone by the time anyone with a car could come meet me. As it just so happened, however, Providence was looking after me.
A green Jeep pulled over to the side of the street, and a pretty voice called out, “Jed!” I looked over to see Eryn sitting behind the wheel. “Father Pat said you came over to city hall with John, that the Mayor was being…well…difficult,” she said. “I thought I’d see if I could catch up.” She shrugged. “Maybe I could help.”
“Well, the Mayor is being difficult,” Johnny replied before I could say anything. “But that seems to be over right now. The problem at the moment is that I have to go do some other work, and that leaves Jed stranded. Have you got much going on this afternoon, or can you give Jed a ride?”
“Now hold on, Johnny,” I started to protest, but Eryn replied before I could even get a whole sentence out.
“Of course,” she said. “It’s my day off anyway.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t joyriding. It could be dangerous, driving me around.”
“I know,” she replied frankly. “I saw that clearly enough yesterday, with that…what did you call it…oh, yeah, goathead.” She looked me in the eye, one delicate eyebrow raised slightly. “You’ve made me well aware of the dangers, but this is my home,” she said. “So get in.”
I could have sworn there was a grin on Johnny’s face as he clapped me on the shoulder and turned toward his car. “Great, problem solved. I’ll see you in a while, Jed.” He turned serious. “Jed, I’m serious about what I said earlier. I haven’t pushed it much more after what happened last night, but you can’t just kill Mayhew. Find evidence of his involvement with the kidnappings and I can take it from there.”
I shook my head. “I’ll try to keep it as clean as possible, Johnny, but this hoodoo makes him too dangerous. Odds are you won’t be able to arrest him, either.”
He pursed his lips. He wasn’t happy. As much as he had accepted about the supernatural, he was still a cop, with a cop’s priorities. He understood justified shootings, but the fact that I might have to shoot somebody who wasn’t pointing a gun at me or trying to stab me rubbed him the wrong way. He settled for saying, “Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?” He smirked again and lowered his voice. “And don’t get too distracted by your chauffeur.” He spun on his heel and beat a retreat before I could reply.
I glared at the back of his head, but I didn’t have much choice. I slid into the passenger seat.
“So where are we going?” Eryn asked.
“Right now, we’re staying where we can watch that Lexus,” I replied, pointing to Mayhew’s car. “Until it goes somewhere; then we’re going there.”
“I get it,” she said. “’Driver, follow that car!’”
I nodded, keeping my eyes on city hall. I told myself that I was just being vigilant, watching for Mayhew to come out.
After a couple minutes, Eryn asked, “Jed, why did you seem so reluctant to get in my car?”
I kept staring out the window. I didn’t want to admit that the thought of her coming to harm because of this was bothering me. I didn’t want to admit that I thought she was gorgeous, tough, and that even though we’d known each other for maybe twenty-four hours that I found I really liked her, and hated the thought of her getting hurt. And I really didn’t want to admit that I found myself nervous and a little tongue-tied around her. It was dumb, but what do you expect when you live as solitary a life as I do?
“Jed?” she ventured.
“It’s just…I don’t need to be putting anyone else in jeopardy, that’s all,” I said, still not quite daring to look at her. “Johnny’s a cop; he’s used to this kind of thing. Well, not this particular kind of thing, I guess, but at least taking the risks.”
I could hear the smile in her voice. “How noble.” She touched my arm, and it was like an electric shock traveled from her hand.
You’re not in high school anymore, idiot, I told myself sternly. Haven’t been for a long time. Stop it.
I was saved from having to answer or otherwise react by Mayhew coming out of city hall. He didn’t even really look around; he was pretty self-assured that nobody was going to try to interfere with him. “How much has Mayhew been meeting with McKinney?” I asked.
“The Mayor was one of the first people he talked to,” Eryn replied. “Since then, as far as I know, he’s been there about every other day.”
“Makes sense,” I muttered, scratching my beard. “If he makes nice with the local authorities, it makes it that much harder to get in his way. McKinney will run interference for him if anybody tries to accuse him of doing something wrong, like making people disappear.”
“Or sending goatheads and giant toad monsters after people?” she asked.
I snorted. “Nobody in their right mind is going to try to bring that sort of accusation in public,” I replied. Mayhew was getting into his car. “They’d be in a straitjacket in minutes. As long as he can keep people from looking too hard at anything he’s doing that might be shady in the mundane criminal sense, he’s covered.”
“Slimy little guy, isn’t he?” Eryn commented as she put the Jeep in drive. “I knew I didn’t like him as soon as he came to town.”
My treacherous brain let a completely off-the-subject and fairly inappropriate question come to my lips, but I bit it back. Stupid brain. Shut up. Focus.
Eryn was good at this, waiting until Mayhew had gone half a block before pulling away from the curb. There wasn’t a lot of traffic for him to
lose himself in, nor were there a lot of narrow streets or even that many turns. Add in that his luxury car stuck out while Eryn’s jeep was pretty nondescript in a town full of jeeps, old cars, and pickups, and we should be able to track him without too much trouble.
The high-speed anti-terrorist, law enforcement, and intelligence guys have all sorts of tricks for tailing suspects and targets, many of them involving a net of multiple vehicles and spotters. I’d never had that, and I’d had to tail more than one sorcerer or demon-worshipper. I’d even tailed one of the Daoine Sidhe once. Or rather, I’d tried to. They have more senses than we do, along with the ability to vanish whenever they feel like it.
The point is, I’d learned how to be subtle when following someone, and I did my best to guide Eryn as she drove. She took to it amazingly quickly, and I was reasonably certain that, barring any Otherworldly advantage, Mayhew had no idea he was being followed.
He didn’t go back to his center. Instead he headed out of town. Not west, toward the highway, but east, up into the hills, beyond the lumber mill.
I started to get a bad feeling the farther we went. I could only think of one place he might be going this far up. The one place I didn’t want to go right now, least of all with Eryn. He had to be heading to the Booker place.
Eryn knew the Booker place was haunted. What she didn’t know was that it was worse than that. Whatever had happened there 50 years ago, it had effectively contaminated the entire area. All the weirdness, all the supernatural trouble in Silverton, was centered on the Booker place. It was the heart of darkness, if you’ll excuse the trite choice of words.
I didn’t want to go into that badness, much less take a woman I barely knew but who had helped me out twice now into it. The fact that I was increasingly attracted to her had nothing to do with it. Seriously. Leave me alone.
As we got closer and closer to the Booker place, I instructed her to pull over to the side of the road, under the trees. We were still about a half mile from the house. I double-checked my .45 and two spare magazines out of nervous habit and opened the door, only to see her similarly checking her Smith and getting ready to come with me.
