Hell Fire cs-2

by Ann Aguirre

  That trouble felt distant at the moment, so I told him to give Eva my love, and then made my last call. Senor Alvarez reported that the store was doing well, he was taking good care of my plants, and I shouldn’t worry about things at home. I wished that had relieved me, but I wanted to book a flight right then. I didn’t want Alvarez starting to feel comfortable in my pawnshop or in the life I’d built. I wanted to get back to it.

  But I couldn’t until I finished things here.

  Before leaving the bedroom, I plaited my long hair into a single French braid running down my back and secured it with a nylon band. I found the others waiting for me in the parlor. To a soul, they bore the same concerned expression. Even Butch lifted his head from where he was napping and gave me a worried glance.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “Just a bit shaky. I’m sure a home-cooked meal at Miss Minnie’s will work wonders.”

  None of them looked convinced, but they didn’t argue. Instead I packed up Butch’s food and water dishes, along with some kibble. Depending on what Miss Minnie put in the soup, it might not be good for the dog. Not that he’d mind. Dogs tended not to care about their health when food was at stake.

  “We’re not late?” I asked as we climbed into the SUV.

  “Nah.” Jesse shook his head. “We have time. We’re supposed to be there at six?”

  Chance nodded. “It’s half past five now.”

  I was interested in asking her a number of questions, things only a longtime resident of Kilmer would know. A smart woman like Miss Minnie would have missed nothing over the years; I just had to get her to tell me what she knew.

  The ride passed mostly in silence. When we got to town, I gave Jesse directions, and we pulled up outside Miss Minnie’s house at ten to six. Her house didn’t seem to have changed at all—a snug little bungalow painted white with cheerful red shutters.

  Chance took my arm as I slid out of the vehicle, a little overprotective but nice. If I wanted more physical contact from him, I couldn’t complain about the way it manifested, could I? Shannon and Jesse followed us up the four stairs to her door, where I knocked.

  Miss Minnie answered promptly. As I’d seen outside the library, she was still willow slim, her hair snow-white, and her face wrinkled. She was clad in a button-down dress patterned with a floral print, and her eyes brightened when she saw all of us.

  “My goodness,” she said. “It’s so good to have young people in the house again. I hope y’all like corn bread.”

  Jesse nodded, Shannon looked ambivalent, and Chance said nothing. Mmm. I remembered her corn bread.

  “Thanks. It’s really good to see you.” I gave her a hug because she looked frail and old and she didn’t have her own grandchildren to do it. Sadly, I was probably the closest thing she had to family.

  “You too, Corine.” She stepped back to usher us into the small living room.

  “I hope you don’t mind. We also brought our dog.”

  Almost as if in response, Butch bobbed up from the depth of my handbag and gave Miss Minnie a polite kiss on the back of her hand. She responded with a laugh of pure delight. “Why, he’s the sweetest critter I’ve seen in twenty years.”

  Butch preened beneath her attentions and then yapped at me. I was starting to recognize the tone of his barks. This one meant he wanted to get down and make sure the place was safe. I bent and let him get to work; his little nose angled down.

  I made the introductions and left it to Chance and Jesse to flatter her within an inch of her life. They didn’t disappoint. Chance complimented the décor and Jesse applied his down-home drawl to tell her that something in her kitchen smelled better than the supper his mama used to make. She blushed and dithered, so it took her a minute to realize she already knew Shannon.

  But she didn’t question, just greeted the girl and then invited us all to take a seat in the dining room while she got dinner on the table. I would have offered to help her, but frankly, I was on my last legs. I sank down into the ladder-back chair.

  Chance and Jesse followed Miss Minnie into the kitchen. At first she tried to shoo them out, and then she gave in. “I reckon I can get the food on the table, boys.” Shannon and I both stifled a snicker at hearing them called “boys.” “But it would be a great help if you’d slide the leaf into the dining room table. It’s just right back there. . . .”

  She had chairs enough already, so I just kept out of the way as the guys pulled off the tablecloth, fitted the extra wood in place, and locked it. The cloth went back on and we were ready to go. Before long, we all sat down with hot bowls of vegetable soup, a platter of piping hot corn bread, and real butter.

  I remembered that Miss Minnie would want to say a short blessing first, so I spared myself the awkwardness of beginning before the hostess. I nudged Shannon, who sat beside me, spoon on the way to her mouth. Fortunately, the lady kept it short. She was a considerate hostess, and she put down a dish of cold minced chicken for Butch. He trotted to the dining room as we all dug in.

  While we ate, conversation was sparse. We made small talk about where I’d been since I left, and how I’d met Chance. Miss Minnie was quite taken with the romance of my returning his lost keys, as if it meant I held the keys to his heart or something. She made a little joke along those lines, and Chance slid me a weighted look. Everyone laughed politely, but I could tell Jesse wanted me to say that Chance and I weren’t together anymore, not like she seemed to think.

  For the sake of honesty, I did. “We’re just friends now, though.”

  Miss Minnie raised her brows in surprise. “Does he know that?”

  Chance frowned at me. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  After we traded soup bowls for slices of Bundt cake, I felt almost up to bridging the subject we needed to discuss. Even then, I ate a few bites first, not wanting to miss dessert entirely if she took umbrage and chucked us out. Before I could decide what to say, Miss Minnie stood up.

  “Go on, now. You can take your plates into the living room. I’ll make a pot of coffee and we’ll just visit a spell.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said. “Thank you so much. It was delicious.”

  The other three echoed my words with real sincerity. Living like we did, we missed out on home-cooked meals and grandmotherly kindness. At least, that held true for Chance and me; I wasn’t sure why Shannon wouldn’t have been eating well at home, unless she suspected her mother of tampering with her food. At this point I wouldn’t doubt it. But Jesse was the lucky one; he had a mother and a father waiting at home. She made pumpkin pie from vegetables his father grew at home. His family sounded impossibly idyllic, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, sliding into a Fourth of July picnic at his side.

  It sounded like everything I’d always wanted.

  Five minutes after we sat down in the living room, Miss Minnie brought in a real silver tray, laid with fine eggshell china and old-fashioned cream and sugar bowls. She set the platter on the coffee table, casting us back to older times when it was actually used for that purpose, just like we were doing now. She carefully fixed each cup according to our specifications and then sat back in her rose velvet armchair, looking pleased.

  Butch trotted in with nothing to report and fuzz on top of his head. I dusted him off and pulled him into my lap. Stroking a dog had to be one of the best relaxation techniques in the world. He burrowed into the crook of my arm and went to sleep.

  “I don’t get visitors like I used to,” she remarked again. “I’m just that happy to see you, Corine. I always did wonder what became of you.”

  I’d never get a better segue. “I’m well . . . but there’s a reason I came back.” Chance gave an encouraging nod, so I went on. “I need to find out the truth behind my mother’s death. I know something’s wrong here. I know about the thing in the woods, and that there’s evil running free in town. I already know all that, but people aren’t talking. I have no reason to think you will, other than your apparent fondness for me, but I’m willing
to trade on that. The fact is, you may be our only hope for putting all the pieces together.”

  Her hands shook as she curled her thin, blue-veined fingers around her cup, and her lined face went pale as milk. “Lord, Lord,” she breathed, turning her face upward as if in appeal to a god I no longer believed in. “The end of days has come at last.”

  Unlucky Break

  Things went to hell without a handbasket.

  It was as if I’d flipped a switch, and the nice old lady who had served us supper disappeared. In her place sat a dire Cassandra prophesying doom and gloom. As the shadows lengthened, even her face looked different somehow, full of mad premonition.

  “I saw them,” she said, staring at nothing. “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. They’ve ridden through town more than once. At first I tried to pretend I didn’t see them, but the way they came and went . . . Oh, I knew.” She nodded sagely. “I knew.”

  “Uh-huh,” Chance said, seeming worried.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  “But what they don’t know is that four angels come to banish them.” She blessed us with a beatific smile. “I should have known about you.” Miss Minnie nodded at me. “Eyes full of heaven and such an unearthly power in your hands. I should have had faith.”

  “In what?” Shannon asked.

  I guessed she didn’t identify herself as a guardian angel.

  “In the Lord,” Miss Minnie answered. “The time of tribulation is on us.”

  What do you say to that, really?

  To give him credit, Jesse tried to make sense of it. “What have you seen that makes you think—”

  “‘There was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood.’” The old woman closed her eyes, obviously reciting from memory. “ ‘There fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters . . . there followed hail and fire mingled with blood, and they were cast upon the earth: and the third part of trees was burnt up, and all green grass was burnt up. I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth: and to him was given the key to the bottomless pit.’ ”

  “It’s from Revelation,” Jesse muttered. “Obviously those verses hold symbolic meaning for her, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

  With a little shiver, I realized we’d already found one of the places she was referencing. I’d noticed the ground around the hollow tree in the wood looked as though it had been hit by an asteroid, dead earth, almost charred, where the monster stored its trinkets. To him was given the key to the bottomless pit—it sure sounded like Miss Minnie thought whatever lived out there came straight from hell.

  “You think we can prevent the earthquake, fire, and blood?” I asked, feeling my way through what felt like a mental mine-field.

  “You will,” she said with certainty. “Or nobody. The Lord’s will be done.”

  Try as we might, we couldn’t get any more sense out of her. After that pronouncement, she turned her face toward the wall and her eyes went strange and glassy, as if she gazed at some war-blasted inner landscape. Mentioning the wrongness in Kilmer seemed to have triggered an episode.

  Butch leaped down from my lap, trotted over to her, and licked her dangling hand. We stayed until she came back to herself; it didn’t take long. She fluttered her lashes at us and patted her white hair nervously.

  “Did I doze off? I’m sorry.”

  “If you’re tired, I guess we should go.” Jesse pushed to his feet.

  He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, so his face looked positively bristly, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. Clearly he hadn’t been sleeping well, but I’d been too self-absorbed to notice. What would it cost him, being here? Would he miss an important hearing? Was he allowed to cross state lines while on suspension and under investigation for possible misconduct? For the first time I considered that he might have put me ahead of his career. I exhaled shakily and shoved back the question of how important I truly was to him.

  Before leaving, I tucked a white crochet afghan around Miss Minnie’s knees. She smiled up at me, drowsy from her spell. “I hope you’ll come back.” As we stood there, her eyes drifted closed again, as if she were too weary to stay awake a second longer.

  I scooped the dog into my arms and we headed for the door. We couldn’t deadbolt it for her, but it did lock on the way out. Full dark had fallen while we ate, and the shadows seemed ominous. Pausing on the porch, I scanned the empty street. Butch whined, putting me on high alert.

  The nearby houses had their curtains and shades drawn tight, and only tiny trickles of light gave a hint there was anybody home at all. The weather wasn’t brilliant, true, but you expected more foot traffic in a town this size, and people being neighborly. But we hadn’t seen either at all in Kilmer.

  I expected an oily spill to break away from the others and try to drain the life out of me. In Laredo, it had happened more times than I could count. But this was a different enemy, less outright power and more guile. In some ways, our enemies in Kilmer might prove more dangerous.

  “Well, that was pointless,” Shannon muttered.

  She started to say more, and then a sharp sound split the night, like a truck backfiring, only—

  “Get down,” Jesse growled.

  I dove off the porch and behind the hedge as the flowerpot on the wrought-iron patio table broke wide-open and showered me in dirt. Two more shots rang out, and Jesse’s body thumped beside me. For a brief, terrifying moment, I thought he’d been hit, and then he rolled, peering backward beneath the hedge. He wouldn’t be moving so easily with a slug in him.

  “Goddammit,” he swore. “I wish I had my gun.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to hit him. It’s coming from the rooftop of that Victorian over there,” Chance whispered.

  I heard a curse from the porch. I cast a glance over my shoulder and found Shannon crouched behind one of the columns. In a normal town, we could expect concerned citizens to call the police. I wasn’t so sure in Kilmer. If the sheriff chose to show up, he might find some way to blame us.

  Butch broke free from my arms and ran back toward the door, scratching furiously. His agitated bark rang out. I’d spent enough time with him to know there was something badly wrong inside.

  Another shot pinged into Miss Minnie’s porch. Please don’t let her step out to see what the fuss is about. If anything happened to her, I didn’t know what I’d do. She was gentle and kind; the only good thing I could remember about my childhood after my mama died. I only wished she hadn’t been so scared of my gift—that she’d let me stay with her, baking pies and cleaning cupboards until I was grown. But I suspected I’d be a much different person if that had happened.

  “At this distance, it has to be a rifle,” Saldana said. “But at least I could lay down suppressive fire, make him dive while we run for it. But don’t worry. I’m counting shots. When I give the word, sprint for the Forester and stay low.”

  Chance objected, “Doesn’t it depend on what kind of weapon he has and what kind of ammo he’s using?”

  “Sounds like a .22, used for varmint hunting,” Jesse told him impatiently. “Generally, you’re looking at a ten-round mag. Unless he’s a great shot, one hit won’t kill us outright. Somebody’s trying to put the fear of God in us.”

  Another shot hit the porch steps, too close for comfort.

  “I thought I’d be safer with you guys,” Shannon mumbled.

  “That’s half a mag, then.” Chance must’ve been counting too.

  In the distance I heard sirens. I guess people didn’t go up on rooftops and open fire with impunity, even in Kilmer. Butch continued to bark and scratch. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes bulging, as if willing me to take the hint.

  “Oh shit.”

  If I was right, if Butch was hearing an intruder in there, we had to get back inside. It might already be too late. Accepting Jesse’s analysis at face value, I pulled myself
back on the porch. One hit wouldn’t kill me. A bullet slammed into the wood behind me; I felt the splinters against my calf.

  “Corine, get down!” Chance shouted.

  Ignoring him, I picked up the patio chair and threw it through Miss Minnie’s living room window. Shannon cried out, but she didn’t budge from the cover of the column. Good girl. I dove, arms first, hit the floor, and tried to roll. I’m sure it wasn’t graceful, and I felt the sting of broken glass even through my jacket.

  “What are you—fuck!” Jesse’s voice split on a cry.

  That time, I had no doubt he’d been hit, but I couldn’t stop. I pushed to my feet and caught the son of a bitch red-handed. A man in black stood over Miss Minnie—and she was so deeply asleep as to be unconscious. He wore a ski mask, the kind criminals used to wear to commit armed robbery, and in his hand gleamed a knife.

  I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a heavy poker from the fireplace. Glass crunched beneath my feet as I braced myself. Good thing he didn’t know how truly useless I’d be in a fight, but I could stall him until the cavalry arrived.

  “Cover the back,” I shouted, hoping someone could get there.

  The sirens drew closer. I could see the glimmer of red and blue in my peripheral vision. Outside, the gunfire had stopped.

  We stared at each other. He couldn’t decide whether to take out the old lady, go for me, or run for it. That hesitance cost him.

  “You’re trapped,” I told him.

  Brakes screeched, car doors slammed, and then I heard a garbled announcement from Sheriff Robinson. I couldn’t make out the words, but I suspected it was some variant of “Come out with your hands up.” I didn’t imagine he would be happy if he had to come in after us.

  And then everything happened too fast for me to track. The man in black spun. Too slowly, I swung the poker at him, whiffing air as he sprinted toward the back door. I heard a scuffle and then the heavy thud of a body falling. When I made it to the kitchen, I found Chance kneeling over the corpse, blood on his hands. His face seemed taut with fear. I didn’t know if he’d killed anyone before. And what a strange thing to wonder about a man you once slept with.