Rest Stop (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 4)

by Catie Rhodes

  I might have felt sorry for him, but karma comes back to bite us all. Especially evil cat and kid killers like Camden DeVoss.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered to Mysti.

  She grabbed my free hand in one hand and Griff’s in her other. Together we fled the horror chamber. Camden’s screams followed us into the parking lot.

  “We’re still stuck,” Griff kicked the white brick wall of the restroom.

  “Maybe not.” I squeezed the black opal, begging for a little more help, and a crack appeared in the flawless asphalt. From it issued a white light.

  “What if we die if we go into the light?” Griff bit his lip as he stared at the choice in front of him.

  “What if we don’t?” I had no idea what would happen, but I knew I couldn’t listen to the sounds coming from the bathroom any more. I took the first step toward the white light. My friends followed.

  An instant later, we were back in Lewis DeVoss’s barn. Camden’s body had gone ramrod straight, and he was about to slide out of his wheelchair. His eyes rolled up, showing whites, and foam came out of his mouth. Griff, Mysti, and I, still chained to our chairs, could do nothing but watch the spectacle.

  “He’s having a seizure,” DeVoss screamed. “He’ll die.” The old man ran to his son’s aid. Camden seized one last time and went still. Urine soaked the front of his khaki pants. DeVoss turned to face us, nostrils flaring, his lips twisted. “You pieces of shit killed my boy. Last family I had.” The old man pushed himself to his feet, knees cracking and popping. He walked over to a wall of tools and took down a huge, bloodstained mallet and came toward us. Suddenly, I knew what the old man did with Camden’s victims’ once his son was done.

  My heart thundered in my chest, but it wasn’t from fear. Fury shook through me that we went through the whole mess and escaped Camden’s dream sphere only to have this sorry old bastard do us in like pigs at slaughter time. He stopped in front of me and raised the mallet over his head.

  “Your mother was a useless whore. So was your wife.” I gritted the words through my teeth and then spat at him. Mysti gasped next to me, but I didn’t even turn my head. Didn’t matter.

  DeVoss’s face contorted, and leaned forward, muscles tensing, getting ready to bring the mallet down on the top of my head. I fumed at how crappy of an end it was.

  A car door slammed outside the workshop. DeVoss jumped like he’d been prodded in the ass with an ice pick.

  “Mr. DeVoss? You in there?” a voice called through the closed door. “It’s Ollie Bickley. ‘Member me? Me ’n Camden was friends.”

  “Help us, Ollie.” I screamed so hard it hurt my throat.

  DeVoss took up his stance again, obviously determined to brain me before Ollie got inside. The rolling door rose, squealing on its track as Ollie forced it to go faster. The little man ran in, pointing a tactical rifle at Lewis DeVoss. Griff had been right. It was guns after all. Ollie ran to the back of the barn and stopped several feet from DeVoss’s left side.

  “Stop right there, Mr. DeVoss. Put that mallet on down.” Ollie danced foot to foot, eyes wild.

  DeVoss grunted and raised the mallet again. The gunshots were so loud they shook me in my chair.

  Lewis DeVoss jerked as each bullet penetrated him, his face slackening with surprise. He staggered sideways and dropped the mallet to clutch at his right side. The mallet thumped harmlessly on the dirt floor in front of me. Red blossoms appeared on DeVoss’s shirt, soaking through the fabric and spreading fast. The old man dropped to his knees and fixed his hate-filled gaze on me. His mouth worked, but no words came out. Instead, thick, dark blood issued forth and slid down his chin. He listed sideways and fell into a clump.

  Ollie turned to us, still holding the gun in his hand. “I can’t go back to jail. I just can’t.”

  “You won’t,” Griff said. “Get us loose. There’s a bolt cutter over there on the wall.”

  Ollie helped Griff first. He went to the SUV and hunted down my cellphone while Ollie cut Mysti and me loose.

  He handed me the cellphone. “Peri Jean, call your friend Rainey Bruce.”

  Rainey waited three rings to pick up. “What is it, Peri Jean? I’m busy.”

  I told her, and there was such a long pause, I thought the call had dropped.

  “You have got to be kidding me. Can’t you go anywhere, do anything, without getting into a big, ugly mess?”

  “But can you help this guy? He saved my life.” I let myself whine. With Rainey, wheedling was a necessity.

  “I ought to let you rot out there. Where did you say you are? Nazareth? It’s a damn dot on the map.”

  “Put her on speaker,” Griff said. I did.

  “Ms. Bruce? This is Griffin Reed, Reed Investigations. I remember watching you get crowned Miss Texas. I had a calendar with your picture—”

  “Mr. Reed, please cut the crap. I’m a businesswoman, not some silly girl. All I care about is whether you have money to pay my fees.”

  “Name your figure, and I’ll wire it to you within the hour,” Griff said.

  Rainey named a figure, and Griff agreed without missing a beat. I felt sick thinking about that many dollars.

  “Nobody’s ever gonna believe Mr. DeVoss helped Camden kill people.” Ollie bellyached more than any woman I’d ever seen. No wonder his wife dumped him.

  “Who is that?” Rainey snapped.

  “Your new client,” I said.

  “The authorities won’t need much convincing once they see all the bodies buried on the property,” Griff said.

  “We’ll never find them,” I stared at the two dead bodies on the floor, half waiting for one of them to get up and walk again. “Old DeVoss said he didn’t even know where they were.”

  “I probably haven’t told you how I got started investigating missing persons.” Griff walked over to DeVoss’s welder and grabbed two of the rods. “I’m a grave dowser.”

  “I don’t believe in grave dowsing or none of that other kind of crap.” The sheriff had a mean glint in his piggy eyes.

  “What’s it going to hurt if you let us try?” Griff held out both hands with the palms up. “You know it’ll shorten your investigation, cost you less money. Plus, if we clear up all these missing persons cases in one swoop—”

  “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself there, Hollywood.” The sheriff, whose name tag read Firth, held up a calloused hand. “You say Mr. DeVoss caused you to wreck your vehicle, chained you up in those chairs, admitted he killed Susie Franklin, and was gonna kill you, too. I ain’t got nobody’s word but yours to go on.”

  “It’ll take thirty minutes of your time to see if I’m wrong,” Griff said.

  “I’d like to see what this young man has to show us.” A tall man with a head of thick, wavy white hair and a matching beard approached us.

  “Now, Mayor Knightley, there wasn’t no reason for you to come out here,” said Sheriff Firth.

  “But I’m here now. Samuel Franklin was my third cousin. Susie was blood kin. If we’ve a chance to recover her body without a lot of hide and seek, I’m all for it.” Mayor Knightley scanned the acres of pasture surrounding us. “Even if I have to go with ‘em myself.”

  Sheriff Firth grumbled and mumbled, but Mayor Knightley had some serious pull. Ten minutes later, we set out walking. Mysti and I had to carry the shovels. My neck screamed with about every third step, and the bad spot on my back where I’d been kicked by a real mean woman started to get stiff, but I wouldn’t let myself show pain.

  Griff bent each welding rod so a short piece stuck down for him to hold onto. He held the rods at chest level sticking straight out. Mayor Knightley stuck close and watched Griff with interest. The sheriff shook his head.

  “Spent all forty years of my career in law enforcement and never thought I’d have to go along with something like this.” He gave Mysti a sidelong glance and huffed. Then he sped up and walked a little ahead of us, hands jammed onto his hips.

  My first impulse was to smart off, but
I knew better than to let my inner jerk out of its bottle. I could help more if I figured out a way to speed this up. Rightly or wrongly, Sheriff Firth wasn’t going to have any patience with this process. If Griff didn’t find the bodies, he wouldn’t get the bonuses from the victims’ families. Might sound like a chicken shit reason to do other folks a good turn, but this was how Griff made a living. I tapped Mysti and whispered in her ear. “I’m going to see if I can contact any of the spirits.”

  She nodded and waved me off. I slipped away from the group and stood next to a watering tank and pretended to enjoy the view of the huge blue sky dotted with a few silver-white clouds. The group moved several feet into the distance. I knew it was time.

  I accessed the power of the black opal and closed my eyes, pushing my conscience deep inside my mind and body to find my magic. The air around me grew cold. My eyes snapped open. I peered around, expecting to see Susie or one of the other ghosts from the rest stop bathroom. But the world was the same as when I started, other than the cooler temperature.

  Then I heard the ravens calling. I turned a slow circle until I saw the black forms peppering the sky, their wings almost purple in the bright sunlight. The birds swooped and dove around a half circle of huge live oak trees. It had to be the spot. I took off running, jerking my neck around in a way it didn’t like. I caught up to Griff and motioned them to follow me. Sheriff Firth grumped but the others went willingly enough.

  Soon as we crossed into the grove, Griff’s dowsing rods crossed into an X.

  “This is it,” Griff breathed. He walked the grove. Each time he uncrossed his rods, they crossed again.

  Sheriff Firth crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at me.

  “How’d you know to come over here?” His gaze bored into me, probing, trying to intimidate. If I hadn’t dated a cop for almost a year, Firth would have made me shake in my boots.

  “You know what I do for Mr. Reed, Sheriff?” I stared right back at him, meeting his eyes, refusing to back down.

  He shrugged in response.

  “I’m a medium. I see ghosts.” I’d keep my damn mouth shut about the ravens alerting me.

  Griff took a shovel from Mysti and started digging. I stuck my own shovel in the dirt, but the sheriff pushed me aside and started his own excavation. Normally, I’d have taken his dismissal as an insult, an implication a woman couldn’t do hard work, but today I hurt too damn bad to care. I went to stand next to Mysti.

  “Did Susie’s ghost show you where to go?” She leaned very close to me and spoke in a whisper.

  “The ravens,” I said. “Don’t you see them?” I gestured at the sky where the birds performed air acrobatics right above us.

  Mysti raised her gaze to the sky and did a slow circle. She turned back to me and slowly shook her head. Anxiety formed a hot ball in my chest. How stupid would I make Griff look if there was nothing in this grove? I crossed my arms over my chest and wished for a cigarette.

  “Hold it, hold it,” Sheriff Firth yelled. “I think I’ve found something.”

  Mysti and I rushed over in time to see him carefully scraping dirt off a burlap sack. The sack was so old and rotten it disintegrated, and a dull, dirty bone peeked through. The sheriff’s big hands pushed more dirt away until he revealed a human jaw.

  He stood and swayed lightly on his feet. “I need to make a phone call.” He took out his cellphone and told someone to bring some crime scene tape and something to use to mark grave locations. He ended the call. A few minutes later, a loud engine sped toward us. A Sheriff’s cruiser came into view.

  “Mr. Reed, can you estimate how many people are buried out here?” If Sheriff Firth was embarrassed at having to eat his disbelief, he didn’t show it.

  “Let me see,” Griff said. Over the next few minutes, he located thirty graves. Sheriff Firth grimly marked each one. He declared the area a crime scene and told us to scram. Griff mentioned the reward money to Sheriff Firth, who rolled his eyes. Mayor Knightley, who took us back to the SUV, assured Griff he’d be a witness to how the bodies were recovered.

  “Boy, this thing’ll never run again.” Mayor Knightley stood next to Griff in front of the SUV. He was probably right. The SUV’s front was mashed in and to one side. It reminded me of a cowboy with a dip of snuff.

  Grief crossed Griff’s face like a storm cloud on a windy day, and he blew out a sigh.

  “You’ll ride with us,” Mysti said.

  “Hell, no.” The mayor waved her off. “I’ll give him a loaner off my car lot. Come on. We’ll go take care of it now.”

  Mayor Knightley got Griff set up with a loaner. We rode in it back to the motel, grabbed our gear, and checked out. Mysti loaded our bags into her trunk, a frown on her face.

  “You hurting from the wreck?” I picked up the last suitcase and handed it to her.

  “Yeah, but it’s nothing my pain relieving ointment and a good massage won’t cure.” Her gaze settled on Griff, who stood next to his loaner sedan, speaking animatedly into his cellphone. His death’s door declaration of love came back to me. All of a sudden, I knew what had Mysti’s undies in a twist.

  “We still have to give Margaret Franklin our final report. Why don’t you ride with Griff, and I’ll follow you two over there?”

  Instead of answering, Mysti ran over and clambered into the nondescript loaner. I slid into the driver’s seat of her Toyota and waited. A few minutes later, I followed Griff out of the motel parking lot. I hoped I’d never see the rundown place again. I stared at the car’s back window all the way to Margaret Franklin’s neighborhood. It was so darkly tinted, I couldn’t tell if Mysti and Griff were arguing or talking things over. I liked them both and hoped it was the latter.

  Griff parked at the curb in front of Margaret’s house, and I eased in behind him and shut off the engine, climbing out and pocketing the keys. I studied both Griff and Mysti’s faces for indication of how things went. Both had on their bland but friendly professional demeanors. Griff knocked on the door. Margaret opened it so fast, she must have been standing on the other side waiting.

  “Pete—I mean, Mayor Knightley—called me a few minutes ago. They’ve found Susie’s body.” She threw her arms around Griff. He returned her hug, smiling. She turned to Mysti, gave her the same treatment, and then settled on me. She pulled me into a Chantilly Lace scented hug and whispered, “Thank you, sweetie,” in my ear.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Griff said, “How do they know it’s Susie?”

  “Her bag was buried with her. It had a little metal ID tag on it.” Margaret’s lips trembled. “After all I went through, she was right there. Did Lewis DeVoss kill her?”

  “Better let the sheriff assign blame, Mrs. Franklin.” Griff glanced first at Mysti, then at me. I nodded to show I understood. We’d never get a law enforcement agency to understand what really happened. Lewis DeVoss deserved the blame as much as Camden.

  Margaret signed the form ending her contract with Griff and paid him. She hugged us all again and saw us to the door.

  “I hate to throw y’all out, but I got a real nice couple coming to look at the house in a few minutes.” She gave us an apologetic curtsey.

  “No problem,” Mysti said. “We need to get on the road anyway.”

  “Good luck on selling.” I knew it had to be hard, selling a place so full of memories. In a way, it made me think of the house I grew up in, the one I’d shared with Memaw. With her dead, letting go of the house where we’d lived together seemed inconceivable.

  I walked toward Mysti’s car, but Griff’s voice stopped me.

  “Peri Jean? Come over here for a minute.” He didn’t just sound serious. He sounded like a boss.

  I walked over there, feet dragging, preparing myself for rejection. Griff stood in the open driver’s side door, Mysti next to him. Both wore big grins.

  “Welcome to Reed Investigations.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a hard shake. “You’re officially one of my contractors. When I need a medium�
�s services, I’ll be calling you. Your payment for this job will be in the mail tomorrow.”

  I reeled backward, unable to process his words at first. I glanced at Mysti for confirmation.

  “You’re in. You’re one of us.” She pulled me into a tight hug.

  “But won’t I be taking jobs away from you?”

  “No. You’ll free me up to do other things for Griff and to take more jobs for my own business.”

  “Mysti and I are going to be working more closely anyway,” Griff said.

  “I’m planning a move to Houston so we can be together.” Mysti’s smile nearly made me tear up. I couldn’t have been happier for her.

  “This long distance stuff is crazy.” Griff swallowed hard. I couldn’t tell if it was nerves or emotion choking him up.

  “My kind of business can probably make more money in a bigger city, so it makes sense on several levels.” Mysti smiled at me. Things had worked out for her with Griff after all.

  “Thanks, Griff,” I said.

  “Don’t get too excited. I won’t be calling every week. I promise I’ll make it worth your while financially when I do call.” He waved me off. I walked away and climbed into the driver’s seat of Mysti’s car so she could say goodbye to Griff in private.

  Pulling down the sun visor, I took a long hard look at myself. My dark eyes were alight with excitement. Even if Griff only called me to work for him once in a blood moon, it was a start. Stepping into a new way of living my life, of being me, especially when it was one I ran from my whole life, was like learning how to walk all over again. I was going to have to make up my mind to take baby steps. As long as I kept moving forward, it was all progress, right?

  You, Peri Jean Mace, are officially a medium-for-hire, even if it’s only sometimes. My appearance didn’t change, but inside it felt like I did.