by Angie Sandro
“He can’t have it,” Mala says. “I’m taking my shot.”
Her fingers pry free of my shirt. A rush of energy flows through my body into hers, and I force my trembling knees to steady. “Do it. Now!”
Mala’s yell starts deep in her chest as a low rumble and crescendos into a roar. Judd must sense what’s coming because he releases Pepper, who crumples at his feet, and swings the gun toward us. He pulls the trigger as Mala flings all the power straight at him. The gunshot rumbles through the walls, but he fired too late.
The beam of energy strikes Judd’s upper body, and he collapses inward as if hit by a car. His arms and legs fly up as he hurtles backward to slam against the wall.
He hasn’t even hit the ground before the deputies reach him. The gun slides across the floor away from his hand. Tank presses a knee against Judd’s upper back and twists his arms behind him to lock the cuffs on his wrists.
“All clear,” George yells, then goes over the radio: “BPSO, one in custody. Send in medical.”
Feeling in my body returns in a rush. My knees and back ache from being hunched over, but an even bigger worry hits, and I push to my feet.
The back of my T-shirt feels wet. “Shit, I think I’ve been shot.”
“Oh no.” Mala shoves Axle into my arms. They’re still partially numb, with a slight tingling in the tips of my fingers, but I manage to hold onto him. Not that I could drop him with his thin arms squeezing my neck in a death grip.
Mala’s behind me. Her hands run frantically up my back. “Blood. There’s blood.”
“I must be in shock.” I shake my head to clear out the foggy feel to my brain. “It doesn’t hurt.”
A dry rustle sounds in my brain. “Do you think I would let you get hurt, host?”
“He shot me.”
“He tried to shoot the last LaCroix. You were in the way.” It’s then that I realize with a soul-sucking horror that Axle’s wet too. Did the bullet go through me and hit him?
Mala’s fingers lift the edge of my T-shirt. “I-I don’t see a wound.” She turns me around to check my front. “No blood.” She pulls Axle from my arms and sets him on the ground. He won’t stop crying and he shakes uncontrollably, but he stands on his own two feet while she checks him over from head to toe. My lungs burn from the smell of gunpowder in the air, but beneath it is the sharp odor of urine.
We turn toward the commotion in the hall. George sits on the ground with Pepper leaning against him. Deputy Winters runs past us, followed by Andy. The unknown deputy and Tank have Judd detained, but he still lies in a crumpled heap on the ground from where Mala flung him, like a judo master, with the power of her mind.
I laugh, but it has a slightly hysterical pitch to it.
Mala blinks at me. “Are you okay? Really?” Her lips crumple in a frown, and fat tears gather in her eyes. “Is everyone else all right? Georgie?” She turns toward the group. “Where did the blood come from?”
Deputy Winters stops in front of Tank and says calmly, “I’ll take over. Get to medical.”
The big guy’s eyebrows rise like furry caterpillars until they almost migrate onto his bald head. He follows her gaze down his body to stop on the blood running down his bare arm. The blood splatter across the carpet shows the path of the bullet, which went right through the underside of his bicep and lodged in the doorjamb only inches from where my head had been. If he hadn’t been in the way…
I rub my forehead, swallowing hard.
A huge sigh comes from behind me. Mala presses her cheek against my back, and her arms wrap around my waist. I pat her clasped hands. “I know.”
I feel her nod.
George passes Pepper off to one of the responding medical technicians. He stops to talk briefly with Tank, then heads in our direction. “Are you three okay?”
“We’re fine,” I say.
Axle hides behind my back and peeks around me. “You caught the bad guy.”
George gives him a smile and pats him on the back. “Of course. I couldn’t let him get away and hurt anyone else. I’m really proud of you. You were so brave.”
“No, I wasn’t.” His voice rises in an inconsolable wail. “I was so scared…I pissed myself.”
I wrap my arm around his shoulder, but George does even better. He squats down. “Hey, I almost peed myself too when Judd came out of the room.”
“But you didn’t.”
“’Cause I’m used to bad guys coming at me.”
Axle hiccups. “So you weren’t scared?”
George shakes his head. “Of course I was scared. Everyone in this hallway was scared. It’s normal to be afraid if someone tries to hurt you. But what makes a person brave is not letting fear stop them from protecting the people they care about.”
Axle’s head lifts higher, and he nods. “You were scared.”
“Yes.”
“So was I,” I say.
Mala snorts. “I wasn’t.”
“Ha! Liar,” Axle says, poking her in the stomach until she laughs, squirming. “Were too. You were shaking so hard that your boobs jiggled like Jell-O. Jonjovi’s gonna be so jealous when I tell him that I touched them.”
Mala gasps. “Axle, shh.” Her face turns bright red as she sends a quick glance around the room and crosses her arms to hide the breasts that the eyes of every guy within hearing distance turn toward. A protective flash goes through me, but I force it back. She’d be even more embarrassed if I said anything to the deputies. Plus, the teasing sparkle is back in Axle’s eyes. He still might have nightmares tonight, but I hope seeing Judd get arrested and knowing he’s safe will help him heal from this faster.
George stands with a final pat on Axle’s head. “Pepper sustained minor injuries. They’re taking her to the hospital. She asked that you take the boys for the night.”
Mala breathes out a long breath, as if she’d been holding it. “Yes, of course.”
“Don’t celebrate too soon. I have to notify social worker Moulton about what happened.”
“Can you hold off?” I ask. “We don’t know how much involvement Pepper had in the murders. Plus Jonjovi and Daryl are still missing. If they come back and Pepper’s not here…”
George turns his gaze toward Axle, who has drifted down the hall. The kid doesn’t get close enough to the action to be in the way, so I don’t call him back. He watches in silence as paramedics lift Judd onto a stretcher, with Deputy Winters as an escort, and carry him toward the back exit. “She’ll want to detain the boys.”
“Right,” I say. “I doubt that would be in their best interest. Especially if their mom’s a victim, not a suspect.”
“I’ll hold off on contacting her until tomorrow. Lord knows I’ve got enough to deal with tonight.”
“Thanks, big bro. We’ll take them to the rev. They’ll be safe with him.” Mala gives his bicep a squeeze, and their eyes lock. Super intense. “Why does this feel wrong, Georgie?”
His shoulders tense, and he steps closer to her. His voice lowers. “So you noticed it too?”
I feel like an outsider. Even if I understood half of what they were going on about, I still wouldn’t feel the same exhilarated rush that flushes their cheeks, like they’re working through the clues in their minds and feeding off each other’s impressions.
All of their gazing into each other’s eyes frays my last nerve. I wave my hand in front of their faces. “What are you two talking about?”
Mala blinks. She grabs my hand and locks her fingers through mine, but doesn’t look away from George. “Doesn’t his capture…feel off? It’s too convenient for some reason…”
“…like we’re being set up,” George finishes.
“Don’t you think so?”
“Yeah, but we found the latest victim in the trunk of his rental. Plus, he held Pepper hostage and tried to shoot a peace officer.”
“Mala,” I interject. At least I can give a slight assist. “He wanted the knife. And he tried to shoot Mala, not me or Tank.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, yes, I know.” Mala waves away George’s argument. Not mine. I don’t think either of them heard what I said.
I sigh and lean back against the wall. Why bother? I’ll let them do their Criminal Minds act without me.
Mala begins to pace. “But look at the facts of the case. Judd and Pepper didn’t get to town until a couple of days ago. That body dump had eight kids in various stages of decomposition.”
George pauses. “I saw…and you said in your dream there was another site.”
“Yeah, it’s been going on for months. It doesn’t seem logical that Judd did this alone. Maybe he has a local accomplice.”
“Whether or not this crime is related to the others, I don’t know. What I do know is we have a dead kid in his trunk. I’ve got to go. Bessie and Sheriff Keyes are on scene, and we need to give them our report. Are you coming?”
“We’ll be outside in a minute. But we need to make it fast. We still need to find the boys.”
George nods then heads toward the exit.
Mala watches him go, biting her lower lip.
“I know what you’re thinking.” I push off the wall.
She jumps, but upon seeing me, the tension riding up her shoulders releases. “That if Magnolia’s involved, maybe she set up a scapegoat for some reason.” She grabs my belt loops and tugs. I wrap my arms around her as she lays her head on my chest. “I just don’t understand her grand plan, Landry.”
“I’m sure it’s convoluted and nefarious.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m worried. I don’t want the boys and your dad getting sucked in.” Mala sighs, then pulls away. “I’ll call Carl, see if he’s heard from his brothers.”
She goes to get Axle while I try to grab Sophia’s suitcase from where I dropped it, only to find out it’s classified as evidence (fucking blood splatter) and can’t be removed according to the evidence technician. So is my T-shirt, which is also bagged after I take it off. Before going outside, I go to the front desk and ask the frazzled Mrs. Robicheaux to call me if the boys come back while we’re gone. Her slightly glazed eyes focus on the activity behind me, but she nods. “Sure thing, sweetie.” She leans forward. “Do you think they’d mind if I got a couple of pictures? The B and B’s never seen this kind of action. Think it might be good publicity?”
“Depends on what type of clientele you want to attract, Mrs. Robicheaux.”
She sucks air across her teeth. “Oh, guess you’ve got a point there.”
Mala and Axle meet me on the porch. She gives my naked chest an appraising once-over, and I grin. I lead them to my truck first and grab a spare T-shirt from my duffle bag in the back seat. “Any news?”
Mala leans against the side of the truck, watching the bustle in the parking lot. George stands with Bessie, while Sheriff Keys talks to the new medical examiner. I can tell by Mala’s sour expression that she wants to be in the mix. “Carl said Jonjovi rode the bus up to their place and is in his bedroom hiding from your dad. But no Daryl.”
“I told you, he’s meeting his girlfriend at Playtown,” Axle says.
“What his girlfriend’s name?”
“That top secret info comes with a price,” Axle says, climbing into the back of the truck and holding out his hand. Mala caves to the bribe and gives him her cell phone so he can play games while he waits for us to come back from giving our witness statements. “Astrid Lebeau. She’s a senior.”
Well, no wonder Daryl never told us about her. Dad will flip when he finds out.
Mala doesn’t look or sound happy as she growls, “If she’s over eighteen…” She cracks her knuckles.
“Better get used to it,” I warn her. “Daryl comes off older than he really is because he’s smart. And nerdy, even though he tries not to let his brothers’ notice. It’s probably nice for him to be able to talk to someone on his intellectual level.”
“Long as it’s only intellectual, and not physical.”
After giving our witness statements to Deputy Winters, we drive to Playtown, listening to Axle’s knock-knock jokes and forcing ourselves to laugh at the appropriate times. The kid eats it up. It’s rare for him to be the center of attention. The way his face lights up, I make a note to spend more one-on-one time with him. If Pepper lets us after today.
“They’re probably at the skating rink,” Axle says. “That way they can hold hands and slow skate together.”
I glance into the rearview mirror and catch him making kissy face. He sees me looking and sticks out his tongue. “Bleck. Girls smell like dog butt. I don’t know why you and Daryl think they’re so great.”
“Hey, I’m a girl,” Mala says.
“Nope, you’re a woman. Big difference.”
Mala’s cheeks pink, and her arms cross again. Her voice doesn’t betray her embarrassment, ’cause Axle doesn’t need the positive reinforcement, when she asks, “Does Carl like girls?”
“Nah, he’d rather go hunting. Like me.”
I help Mala and Axle out of the truck. We walk hand in hand into the skating rink. A family. Damn Pepper for ruining everything. We were happy. Now everything has gone to hell. Rather than wandering around in search of Daryl, Mala marches up to the DJ’s booth, hands him what looks like a five-dollar bill, then grabs the microphone. “Daryl S. Acker, you’ve got ten minutes. Kiss your geriatric girlfriend good-bye and meet us outside.” She holds out the microphone to the DJ, then snatches it back. “And don’t even try to escape out the back ’cause if I have to hunt you down, I will tell everyone your middle name…which rhymes with flash.”
She hands the microphone back and then storms over to us. I’m holding my stomach from laughing so hard. Pepper’s slicker than I thought. Deliberately naming her sons after eighties rockers simply to have leverage to hold over their heads if they misbehaved. Wicked.
But she’s a toddler compared to the grandmamma of them all, our very own Wicked Witch of New Orleans. Time to get my bucket of water ready; Magnolia’s waiting.
Chapter 21
Mala
Nefarious Hijinks
Daryl’s face is flushed when he finally makes his way to the truck and climbs into the backseat. “You guys are so embarrassing. This is why I don’t introduce you to my friends. What are you doing here, anyway? Mrs. Moulton said we’re supposed to stay with Pepper. Does she know you’re here? I don’t want to get in trouble for being with you,” he says, immediately going on the attack to deflect us from questioning him about his girlfriend. It’s not the smartest move. We were distracted from what happened at the hotel, but it all comes rushing back.
Axle’s face crumples. He doesn’t cry, but his lip trembles. “You’re stupid, Daryl.”
Landry gives Daryl a smoky one-eyed glare through the overhead mirror. “Something happened. It’s a long story, and I only want to tell it once. So we’ll fill you in at the same time as Dad and your brothers.”
Axle stares quietly out the window for the rest of the drive to the Acker place, which more than anything imparts the seriousness of the situation upon Daryl. Reverend Prince and Carl are outside, painting the fence around Dena’s vegetable garden. When they see us, they come over to the truck.
“Everything okay?” he asks his son, hand squeezing his shoulder.
Landry nods and tips his chin toward the paint. “Helping Pepper get this place ready to go on the market?”
Reverend Prince wipes his paint-stained hands on a dishrag. “I spoke with the bank about getting a loan. If Pepper’s determined to sell, then I might as well buy it for you kids. I doubt Pepper will get a better offer.”
We gather the kids on the porch and fill them in on what happened at the B&B. We don’t go into detail. Just that Judd had been arrested and Pepper was okay, but was taken to the hospital. Reverend Prince puts aside his curiosity for now. He promises to have a talk with Axle about what he witnessed and to lecture Daryl about his responsibilities to his brothers. It’s hard to leave the boys after getting them back, even in Landry’s dad’s capable
hands.
What’s even more terrifying is pulling up at my house and seeing Magnolia’s Cadillac parked in the driveway.
Landry parks off to the side. Neither of us reaches for the door handles. Only our heavy breathing breaks the silence in the cab until Landry leans back in his seat. The vertebrae in his back pop with his stretch, and he sighs.
I brush a tight curl off my face and lick my dry lips.
“Do I look as scared as I feel?”
Landry threads his fingers through mine. His palm feels clammy, but his warmth comforts me. “We survived a standoff with another lunatic with a gun. This should be no problem.”
“Magnolia’s crazy and uses magic. That makes it worse. Plus, we need her more than she needs us.”
“Maybe,” he says and grimaces. “Maybe not. Whatever plan she’s working toward is a long game. She’s been setting up her pieces for months…seasoning us for whatever her goal is. I just can’t figure out what part we play in all of this. But whatever it is, I feel like we’ve moved into the endgame.”
“I do too,” I whisper. My gaze drifts toward the house and collides with Magnolia’s. The old bat sits in the rocker on the front porch beside Ferdinand. Etienne hovers at her back, like a spindly stone gargoyle. Even at a distance, the weight of Magnolia’s stare feels like a punch in the gut. She waves.
I swallow hard. “The queen beckons.”
Landry glances at the porch. “Let’s get a move on before she directs Etienne to make off with our heads.”
“That creeper would do it too. No questions asked.”
“I doubt he remembers how to string together a sentence. I swear, I can’t figure out if he’s the best or worst example of a zombie that I’ve ever seen.”
“Hopefully worst. I don’t even want to think of Dena coming back like him. Being trapped in a decaying body”—I shudder— “it’s the stuff of my worst nightmares.” Not including my latest foray into the mind of a demented killer. Saints, I don’t want to do this. But I have to. For Dee.
Landry presses a kiss to the back of my hand. “Don’t move. I’ll come get you.”
