Forbidden Highway (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 5)

by Catie Rhodes

  “Shut up,” Gage yelled. “You’re all alone. That big lug left on his motorcycle about ten minutes ago.”

  Did I believe him? What if he hurt Wade before he came in here to me? The idea ignited my fury at this man. I’d kill him, even if I died doing it. I dug my heels into the bed and tried to scoot out from under Gage.

  “No, no, no. You and me need to have a talk.”

  I screamed against his hand. He took it off my mouth, and my hopes sank like an anchor in dark water. We were alone.

  “You looking for the treasure. Kinda come into your powers, I heard.” He kept me pinned, his face so close I smelled the stale mints on his breath. “You gonna find it, and you gonna give it to me.”

  “Or you’ll kill me? I bet you’re gonna try that anyway.”

  “And I’ll succeed if that’s what I want. Look how easy it was for me to get in here, in your house with you.” He leaned closer, so close his breath made the air between us moist and swampy.

  The throaty growl of a motorcycle’s engine approaching split the stillness. Gage shifted his weight on me, and I knew it was the only chance I’d get to pay him back for humiliating me this way. I dug my heels into the mattress again and pistoned my body upward, opening my mouth at the same time.

  Gage’s eyes widened, but it was too late to do anything but watch me come. I latched onto the tip of his nose and bit down as hard as I could, grinding my teeth together. Gage wailed and batted me with balled up fists. Pain shot through my muscles and festered in my bones, but I held on.

  Skin popped between my teeth, and blood flooded my mouth. I bit down harder. The blub-blub of the motorcycle neared and cut off. Gage made a noise somewhere between a teakettle’s scream and a dog’s howl. He got his knees under him, reared one fist back and slammed it into my shoulder as hard as he could. His blow stunned me into letting go. I fell against the headboard. A thick drool wet my chin and dripped onto my chest. Something was in my mouth. Skin. Gage’s skin. My stomach tossed, and I spat. A bloody piece of skin flew out of my mouth and landed between Gage and me on the bedspread.

  “I’ll get you.” Gage’s voice shook. “I’m not going to kill you until—”

  Footsteps thundered through the house. Gage slid off the bed and ran for the wide-open window. He slithered out. The door to the bedroom banged open, and Wade filled it. I pointed at the window. Wade took three huge steps and launched himself through it. He crashed through the leaves we hadn’t bothered to rake and went after Gage. I rolled off the bed and ran to the window.

  “Stay there,” Wade screamed without turning around.

  For once, I did what he said. Silence overtook the house. The practical side of me took over. I used a tissue to clean up the mess I’d made. The piece of skin went into the trash. I pulled the bedspread off the bed and headed for the laundry room. It needed to sit in cold water to get the bloodstain out. The bedspread, white and chenille, was Memaw’s, I didn’t want to have to look at a bloodstain on it every time I lay down. I managed to get the stain treated with stain remover and the bedspread into cold water before the shakes hit.

  The first one knocked me against the washing machine. I closed the lid and staggered into the kitchen, my vision lurching with my stuttering heart. I fell into one of the chairs at the table and held on to the edges as spasms of unspent adrenaline wracked my body. The doorknob on the back door turned. I spun toward it, unable to do more than raise my hands. If Gage had killed Wade and come back, he had me. I couldn’t even defend myself. The door opened, and Wade stepped inside. He came to me and pulled me against him, pushing my head into his chest.

  “Where’s Gage? What’d you do with him?” I clenched my arms against my sides, unable to get warm.

  “He got away from me in the woods. For an old man, he can run fast.” Wade squeezed me tighter. “Shouldn’t have left you. Went to get us some supper. Figured I’d wake you, we’d eat, and go to Long Time Gone.”

  My teeth chattered so hard I couldn’t speak. Wade pushed me away from him and fingered the splotch of blood on my pajama top.

  “I bit him.” My words came out jerky and harsh. “On the nose.”

  Wade smiled and let out a short chuckle. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

  “No. I can’t deal with Dean tonight.” I burrowed back into Wade’s warmth, so cold I couldn’t think. “Gage is gone, isn’t he? What’s Dean going to do?”

  “Act like an angry little man.” Wade pulled out his cigarettes, lit two, and handed me one.

  I laughed until my throat hurt, until I had to clutch my sides. It died a little bit at a time. It hit me I was sitting in Wade’s lap with his arms around me. The half-dream of him touching me came back. I had wanted him enough to do something stupid.

  “What happens now?” I pulled back enough to stare into Wade’s face. I wanted him to kiss me…and more.

  Wade, unfortunately, was far from being on the same page. “We go to Long Time Gone. Work. King needs to hear what happened.”

  “What’s he going to do?”

  “If he catches Gage before the cops?” Wade ran a finger over his neck. “Old beef, from back when Gage killed Rae.”

  “Before we knew each other.” I tried to remember my life before Wade and could only remember snatches, small details. So much had changed.

  Wade’s cellphone beeped. I recognized the tone as the one he used for text messages. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the screen. A little smile quirked his lips. Unable to help myself, knowing I shouldn’t, I glanced at the phone and saw Diamond’s name. They’d been together the night before, and from the way Wade had smelled, not playing checkers. I slid off his lap and padded down the hall.

  “Where you going?” he yelled.

  “To get dressed.” I showered, unable to get the feel of Michael Gage’s dirty, filthy hands off me, even after I used all the hot water. I dressed in a tight t-shirt with the neck and arms cut out and tight jeans with holes in the knees. Black eyeliner, dark and heavy, went around my eyes. Hannah would have called my getup tramptacular. I pulled my bangs into a barrette like the little prehistoric cartoon girl and went into the living room.

  Wade barely gave me a glance. “You can ride on the bike.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve got a date after work.” Ignoring his wide eyes, but secretly delighting in them, I sashayed past him and left him alone in the house.

  8

  A crowd of yuppie wannabe bikers picked that particular night to invade Long Time Gone. Their brand-new leather, covered with silly patches, came with pockets full of high limit credit cards.

  For the Six Gun Revolutionaries, whose territory the yuppies were stepping on, it was a love-hate thing. The wannabes brought in huge revenue on a normally slow night. On the other hand, they didn’t quite understand where they were and who they were dealing with. I figured a fight would break out before the night ended.

  “This doesn’t taste like a hurricane.” The middle-aged woman set the plastic cup on the counter. A roll of flab circled the bottom of her leather bustier like a tanned inner tube, and whoever did the tattoo of a skull on her arm had the drawing skill of a three-year-old, but the stud in her nose looked like a real diamond, and she had a huge, matching rock on her ring finger. Maybe fat wallets made up for bad taste.

  “Would you like something else?” I leaned my elbows on the bar and kept my thoughts to myself. Of course the hurricane doesn’t taste like a hurricane, ma’am. It’s tropical punch mixed with cheap vodka and bargain rum.

  The woman’s glassy eyes drifted over the bottles behind me, all of them sporting top-shelf labels. The liquid inside was far from good liquor. King Tolliver, president of the Six Gun Revolutionaries, drank the bottle’s original contents himself and had me refill the bottles with cheap rotgut.

  “Beer’s cold.” And whatever brand it says on the bottle.

  “Yeah. Gimme a beer.” The woman bared her stained teeth in a grin.

  I dug in the ice filled cooler at my
waist and handed her the beer. “That’ll be…” My words soured in my mouth. “What’re you doing here, Tubby?”

  Somehow, Tubby Tubman had materialized next to the worn-out biker diva. His bow-shaped lips curved. “I’ll have scotch on the rocks. And not that shit on the wall. I want what the Six Guns drink.”

  Dim understanding dawned on the woman’s face. “You can’t do that. It’s false advertising. Everybody knows—”

  “Beer’s on the house if you get out of my face right now.” I placed both hands on the bar, letting her get a good look at my rings. It worked. Her eyes widened and she bumbled back to her group. From the looks of it, she didn’t keep her new knowledge to herself. She pointed at the bar and then at the herd of plastic drink glasses on the table.

  Tubby snapped his fingers at me. “Hey. Did you hear my drink order?”

  “How about I pee in a cup and put an ice cube in it?” I didn’t bother to keep my voice down, and a couple from the yuppie biker group gathered their things and got away from the bar.

  “I’ll tell your boss you’re providing poor customer service.” Tubby crossed one skinny, tattooed arm over his chest to pick at the plastic decal on his faded t-shirt. He pulled off a piece of the letter “L” and threw it at me. If I hadn’t known Tubby all my life, I’d have never guessed this nasty peckerwood was the crime boss of Burns County.

  “Fine.” I grabbed a bottle of mid-priced scotch from underneath the bar and poured Tubby two fingers and added a couple of cubes of ice.

  Tubby tossed some bills on the bar and took a sip. I didn’t offer to make change for him.

  “What is it, Tubby? I don’t have time for any nonsense tonight.” I glanced around, hunting for King. If he saw me pour some of his scotch for a customer, he’d give himself a few extra hemorrhoids bawling me out.

  “Don’t be that-a-way, sugar.” Tubby cocked his head. “Might be you need to talk to me, for your own good and all. Could be you owe me something.”

  No, not now. Of course I owed Tubby Tubman. He knew how to insinuate himself in situations, to have what people needed in their darkest hour, or to know something so terrible about them they had no choice but to do what he said. Everybody in this county probably owed him some way or another. I wanted to tell him to pound sand, but Tubby had some pretty bad shit on me. He could send me straight to prison.

  “So talk. I’m listening.”

  “Why so hostile?” He forced his bow shaped lips into a pout. “I was there when you needed me. You’re the one who didn’t follow through on your end of our bargain.”

  “Dean dumped me. Nothing I could do.”

  “Not my problem.” He hooked one thumb behind his Lone Star Beer belt buckle. “You promised Ol’ Tub you’d get information out of the good sheriff, information I could use to make sure none of my enterprises was in trouble.”

  “So what are you going to do? Give the video you showed me to the state police?” My entire body pulled tight at the thought of Tubby throwing me into a pool of legal quicksand. I took a step back and cast my gaze around the bar, this time looking for Wade. I found his huge form at the pool tables, standing behind Diamond, his arms around her waist. Shit.

  “Depends. What’ll do you for me?” He ran his nasty gaze over me, lingering on my chest. I resisted the urge to cross my arms. He would enjoy knowing he got a reaction out of me. “You and me once had some good times.”

  I cringed. First Michael Gage and now Tubby. To hell with them. They could both go eat a big, rotten box of cocks. I took out the whistle I kept under the bar and blew it, not caring if Wade brought Diamond over here and gave her a big, slobbery kiss right in front of me.

  “What?” Tubby craned his neck. “What was that for?”

  I crossed my arms and waited. Wade cut through the milling people like a steam engine. Another Six Gun, one I only knew as Trench Coat, walked toward us, his hand already inside his namesake garment. Wade stopped behind Tubby and pointed at him. I nodded.

  “What’s the problem here?” Wade stood next to Tubby. Trench Coat came to stand on the other side.

  “Remember the night we went to get King’s grandson, Justice?” I waited a beat. “He knows about it and wants to blackmail me.”

  “You’ll pay for this, Peri Jean.” Tubby bared his teeth at me.

  “Maybe some time, but not tonight.”

  Wade took out his phone and punched in a number. He waited and spoke quietly into it. A few seconds later, King joined us. He had his hand around the upper arm of a Candy Pistol named Nadia. He gave her a shove toward the bar.

  “Tend bar while Peri Jean takes a meeting.” He motioned me to come with him. Trench Coat took one of Tubby’s arms and Wade took the other. They pulled Tubby off his barstool and tried to tug him toward King’s office. Tubby jerked away from the other men.

  “Fuck you,” he screamed. “I’ll walk by my own damn self.”

  All the patrons of Long Time Gone stopped their conversations, their flirtations, their drug deals, and their dances. The yuppie wannabe bikers gathered their things and made a beeline for the front door. I took in the grim expressions on all the men’s faces. What the hell did I just get started? I followed them into King’s office.

  A few seconds later, Tubby sat flame faced in front of King’s scarred wooden desk. Wade stood behind Tubby, one hand on the back of his metal folding chair. Tubby turned his head to glare at me. He shook his head.

  “Never figured you for such a pussy you needed these guys to pull muscle for you.” His jaw worked.

  “My life’s hell right now.” I showed him my middle finger. “I don’t have time for your horse shit.”

  “Shut up, both of you.” King laced his fingers behind his head. “Tubman, we’ve worked together on a lot of deals. Made good money together. But if you bring up the day we went to get Justice, you’ll put me in a position where I have to silence you.”

  “I know we ain’t in here to have a wine tasting. Do what you’re gonna do.” Tubby stared straight ahead, his normally mischievous blue eyes cold and dead.

  My ears buzzed. Siccing the Six Guns on Tubby had been a stupid idea masquerading as a great one. Much as Tubby skeeved me out, we’d known each other since the first day of kindergarten. He knew me like nobody else in the room.

  “Wait a minute.” My heart pounded in my throat. “I just want you to quit threatening me, Tub.”

  He shrugged, refusing to give me the barest of glances.

  I climbed out of my plastic chair and squatted down next to my old frenemy. “Michael Gage killed one of my friends, Tub. He shot me with a blowgun dart, and today…” I glanced at Wade.

  “Go on.” Wade never took his eyes off Tubby. “I told King when we first got here.”

  “This afternoon, Michael Gage broke in my house and climbed in bed with me while I was napping.” I watched for Tubby’s reaction. He jerked and glanced away from me. “Gage held me down and said he was going to take me with him, but Wade came home, and I bit Gage, and everything went to hell.” I pointed at the bruise forming on my shoulder. “I can’t deal with you right now.”

  “Gage is after me too.” Tubby’s words, spoken without his usual swagger, sounded like a foreign language. It took me several seconds to process their meaning.

  “What for?” King took his hands from behind his head and leaned over his desk.

  “Blackmail.” Tubby’s gaze slid to me, and he flushed. Confusion muddied my thoughts for a few seconds. Then it hit me. Tubby may have caused the money problems that convinced Michael Gage to go on the rampage that left both my cousin, Rae, and my best friend, Chase, murdered.

  Tubby let out a gust of air, and it seemed to shrink him back into just a man-boy who’d inherited a business almost too big and nasty for him to handle instead of a ruthless outlaw.

  “You knew who he was, didn’t you?” Dull grief throbbed in my chest.

  Tubby ducked his head. “He gave me money to keep quiet. But then he killed Chase. He was aft
er you.” One of Tubby’s bony hands knotted into a fist. Tubby stared at me, face blank and dangerous. “I told him to get out of town, or I’d blow his cover. He went nuts.”

  “Now he’s back.” King sat with his mouth half open, his brow knitted in thought. “Wanting some revenge on just about everybody in this room.”

  Tubby dug around in his pockets. Trench Coat stepped forward and put one sun-reddened hand on Tubby’s forearm. The younger man stopped moving. “I want a cigarette.”

  Trench Coat got the cigarettes from Tubby’s pocket and lit one for him. King sat very still, his dead eyes fixed on Tubby, predatory and hungry.

  “Killing Cricket was a message to me, to you guys, and to Peri Jean.” Tubby blew out a jet of smoke as he spoke.

  I only understood part of what Tubby meant. Gage used Cricket as a double message to me. He put my name next to her dead body, and he killed someone who was like my cousin Rae in many ways, reminding me. Cricket was a Candy Pistol, so killing her was an insult to the Six Gun Revolutionaries.

  “How was Cricket a message to you?” I asked Tubby.

  “Cricket was our liaison with Mr. Tubman.” King kept his gaze fixed on Tubby. “I’m sure they had a friendship of sorts.”

  Tubby nodded. “Now, it’s like Gage knows things about me. Things nobody knows.” His hand shook as he brought his cigarette to his mouth. “Other day, I went to my cabin at Heaven’s Corner. Some freak was in there. Big guy, bald. He got the jump on me. Held me down. Said I owed Gage his money back, or he’d come back…and do stuff like what happened in juvie.”

  “So you came to shake down Peri Jean because you’re scared?” Wade, eyes burning with crazy fire, put both hands on the back of Tubby’s chair.

  Tubby slumped and leaned his face in his hands. “No. I don’t want money. I want her to help me kill Gage before the cops catch up with him.”

  The silence in the room thickened.

  “Peri Jean’s not helping you kill anybody.” Wade lifted Tubby’s chair off the floor and slammed it back down.

  “I don’t need anybody’s permission. I can speak for myself.” I stood from where I’d been crouched in front of Tubby. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?” I kicked at his worn cowboy boot.