“I see,” Luke said, focusing on George. “Did you need help with peanut butter selections? I’m a whiz when it comes to picking peanut butter. The trick is to find one with a consistency somewhere between chunky and smooth.”
Luke can turn anything into a game, including making my new admirer uncomfortable.
“I’m … um … well … .” George was clearly at a loss. His discomfort eased some – but not all – my uneasiness.
“Are you a smooth or crunchy guy?” Luke pressed.
“I wasn’t really interested in the peanut butter,” George admitted, shooting me a sheepish smile. “I just thought she was so pretty. I didn’t realize she was with someone.”
“That’s a common mistake, my friend,” Luke said. “She’s pretty, but she also bites. Trust me. You can do better.”
I pinched Luke’s arm. “Hey!”
“You’re very pretty,” Luke said, jerking his arm back and rubbing it. “You’re mean, though. Did you see that, George? The abuse I put up with … it’s criminal.”
“I can see I made a mistake,” George said. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“It’s no bother,” Luke replied, slinging an arm over my shoulders. “I like to know that people think my woman is hot.”
George’s smile was more of a grimace. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ll be going.”
“Goodbye, George.” Luke had trouble holding back a fit of laughter.
As he moved around the corner, George’s parting thought was so strong it almost knocked me over as it rumbled into my mind. She’s so gosh-darned pretty. I thought for sure she was the one.
I kept my focus on my cart until George was out of sight and then punched Luke for good measure. “Was that really necessary?”
“You’re so violent today.”
“You didn’t have to mess with him like that,” I said.
“Would you have preferred that I tell him we’re not involved and that you are open to offers?”
“No.”
“Then stop bellyaching, woman,” Luke ordered. “I’ll send Kade shopping with you and let him deal with your legion of fans next time.”
“If you don’t stop saying that … .” The threat died on my lips because Luke was pressing something into my hands. It was a notebook, and it had a silly cat on the cover. “What’s this?”
“You said you wanted a diary to make sure you didn’t forget to tell me any details about Kade’s trip to your … honey pot. Oh, that’s kind of funny.” Luke is his own biggest fan.
“I’m going to beat the crap out of you when we get to camp.”
“Good,” Luke replied. “That can be your first diary entry. Dear diary, I have so much sexual frustration and today I took it out on Luke instead of my real heart’s desire. I am pretending not to be hot for the new guy, but it won’t be long until I give in and embrace my carnal desires.”
“You’d better start running now, Luke.”
AFTER returning to camp and distributing the goods, Luke and I left Naida and Nixie to Wednesday’s cooking. The pixie twins fought on good days. Cooking days could never be considered “good days” in their world. Instead of watching them scream at each other, we decided to walk the perimeter.
“That was a good idea having Max distract Kade with a meeting last night so we could put up the dreamcatcher,” Luke said, his eyes busy scanning the wooded area to the west of the camp. “Max has the ability to keep Kade inside for as long as he wants without Kade being able to push him off.”
As far as ideas go, it was one of my better ones. I didn’t admit that to Luke, though.
As part of our undercover operation, whenever we move to a new city we erect magical wards. They’re a means of protection from other paranormals. We’re alerted whenever our outer boundary is breached. The magic used is a mixture of folk holdovers, mystical new age chants and whatever concoction Raven has invented this week.
Raven, Naida, Nixie and I handle the spellcasting, although most of the camp’s denizens like to watch us do our thing. It’s become something of a Monday ritual. Kade’s arrival forced us to Tuesday this week, and even though no one said it, everyone was relieved when the wards took shape the previous evening. Because of the overlapping magical strings and the way they interweave, we took to calling the trap a dreamcatcher years ago. The name stuck.
In addition to alerting us to the arrival of paranormals, the dreamcatcher has one other purpose: It draws evil beings to us. It’s designed that way. As a traveling circus, we see large portions of the country every year. Paranormals are already drawn to other paranormals. The dreamcatcher enhances that attraction and allows us to take out any potential enemies on our terms. As a side effect, if the magic is strong enough and the soul is dark enough, we also draw evil humans. We tend to deal with both in the same manner.
“I don’t think we can count on Max pulling Kade into a meeting every Monday so we can set the dreamcatcher,” I said, taking Luke’s hand as he helped me over a fallen tree. “Kade will get suspicious.”
“It might take him a few weeks to notice,” Luke pointed out. “By that time we should have a better feel for how he will react to all the paranormal stuff.”
“I don’t think that Max wants us to tell him.”
“I wonder why,” Luke mused. “Max is generally the type of guy who wants to volunteer the big secret to new recruits. We’re usually the ones pulling him back.”
“There’s something different about this guy.”
“How do you know that?”
I told Luke about my discussion with Max and the information Kade volunteered during our tour. Luke was baffled.
“When did Max have time to be someone’s funny uncle? I love that, by the way.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “I think something else is going on here, but I have no idea what it is. It’s just … odd.”
“We can only deal with one thing at a time,” Luke said. “I think we should focus on getting through this week without tipping our hand to Kade and go from there.”
“Since when did you become the pragmatic one?”
“I’ve learned from the best, my dear.”
I rolled my eyes but kept walking. “Why don’t you go and check those two sides of the dreamcatcher and I’ll take the edges on this end,” I suggested. “We’ll get done faster that way.”
Luke balked. “What happens if one of us gets attacked?”
“We’re not novices,” I reminded him. “Fight off whatever it is. Kill it. Then we’ll dispose of it together.”
“That’s all well and good when you have enough magic in your head to make someone’s eyes pop out of their sockets,” Luke grumbled.
“You can shift into a giant wolf and bite someone’s head off.”
“Yes, but I rip my clothes when I have to do it on the fly and you know I don’t like that.” Luke rubbed his shirt. “This is new.”
“Just … go and do what I say,” I ordered.
“So bossy.”
“So annoying,” I shot back.
“Don’t wander too far,” Luke ordered, his face serious. “If you need me, call however you need to. I’ll come running.”
“You, too.”
“Such a pain,” Luke muttered.
I busied myself tracing the magical wards, making sure there were no holes that could allow anyone to slip past the net, and trudged through the heavy overgrowth. The sun was still high in the sky, and when it glinted off something shining through the trees I couldn’t help but move in that direction.
The tree growth could hardly be considered woods. It was narrow and only took a minute to move through. On the other side I found a dirt road with a small pickup truck parked on it. The cab was empty.
I had no idea where the road ended. I figured it was merely an access point for hunters and anglers. There is a lake about two miles to our south. It was small, but it was enough to perk up Naida. She planned to go skinny-dipping as soon as the sun dropped in the sky.
Her water fetish runs to the outrageous sometimes.
While I had no reason to be suspicious of the vehicle I couldn’t help but let my imagination run wild. There was no reason for strangers to park here unless they were coming to the circus. Since we don’t open until tomorrow night, there’s no reason for a visitor to be here now. Anyone with legitimate circus business would enter at the front and park there.
“I knew I would see you again.”
I froze when I heard the voice, recognizing it instantly from earlier this afternoon. I turned, my shoulders stiff, and met George’s keen gaze. Where did he come from? Was he watching us the whole time? Was he out here looking for me specifically? That was a dumb question. I knew he wasn’t out here looking for Luke. How did he know where we were camped in the first place?
“Did you follow us?”
George’s smile was wide. “I did,” he said. “I sat in the parking lot until I saw the two of you leave. I thought you would be going to a house … or a motel even. Imagine my surprise when you came out here. I had no idea you were circus freaks.”
“That’s a derogatory statement,” I said, licking my lips and causing George to fixate on them. He was a pervert. I was sure of that without reading his mind. What I needed to be sure of was whether he was a garden-variety peeper or a more exotic rapist. That would change my course of action.
I reached out with my mind, scanning his baser thoughts first.
She’s so hot. I wonder if she has a tail or something. All of these circus freaks have something wrong with them. If she has a third nipple, I can work my way around that. If it’s something else, though … blech.
My initial scan led me to believe he was a horny little jerkwad who could be scared off with the right mental prompt. I scanned deeper.
If she does have three nipples, I’ll just cut the third one off. I’ll keep it as a souvenir. It might be worth something on the Internet. If she’s got a tail, there’s no way I can work around that. I have to see. I need to see. I … want her. I’m going to take her.
I didn’t like that scan at all. I held up my hand to still him. “You’re going to want to think about what you’re about to do very carefully,” I warned. “You have a choice to turn around. If you move any closer, I’m going to take action.”
“I’m looking for action,” George said, his grin turning from happy to beastly. “I’m so excited to see what you have hidden under those baggy pants.”
“I think you’re going to be surprised.”
George didn’t waste another second. He ran toward me, his hands outstretched and aiming for my neck. I didn’t hesitate as I sent a mental jab in his direction. George grabbed his head, ceasing his forward momentum as he howled. “What the … ?”
As far as weapons go, my mind is a potent one. I still hadn’t decided whether George needed to be eliminated, though.
“Tell me about yourself,” I prodded. “How many women have you raped?”
“I don’t rape people,” George seethed, rubbing his forehead. “I give them what they want.”
That wasn’t an answer. I mentally hit him again, doubling the dose. I ignored George’s screams as he buckled and dropped to the ground.
“How many women have you raped?” I repeated.
“I don’t have to tell you anything, you bitch!” George scrambled, desperate to get to his feet, and yet the pain I pulsing in his direction left him powerless.
I prodded his mind, easily pushing past the barriers he feebly erected to keep me out. He could feel me poking around in there, and yet he had no idea what was happening. A series of images spilled forth when I tore down the wall. There were women – a lot of them – and they all screamed as he climbed on top of them to get what he considered his “just rewards.”
Bloody images replaced the violent ones. He didn’t only rape. He killed, too. The police were looking for him, even though they had no idea George was the suspect they sought. He had five murders under his belt, and his trail of mayhem and murder would leave another eight women dead before he was captured.
“What’s going on?” Luke appeared out of nowhere, frowning when he caught sight of George. “Seriously?”
“He’s a rapist,” I said. “The police are looking for him in conjunction with five murders.”
“Nice,” Luke said, kneeling next to George as he writhed on the ground. “I think you picked the wrong woman to go after, jerkface.”
“I’m going to kill you both,” George spat, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth. “I’m going to rip you to pieces.”
“Good luck with that.” Luke stood up, his expression unreadable. “How do you want to do this?”
“I’m not up for anything fancy.”
Luke made a face. “That’s not what I mean,” he said. “Do you want to bury him out here or put him someplace the cops can find him. If they’re looking for a DNA match to clear those cases, they’re going to need his body.”
That was a pretty good point. “I have an idea.”
“I knew you would.”
Seven
“You know when I said you have good ideas earlier today?” Luke asked, grunting under George’s weight as he tried to maneuver the unconscious man into the driver’s seat of his truck.
I nodded.
“I was lying.”
“What other idea do you have?” I asked, leaning forward so I could help.
“Don’t touch him,” Luke snapped. “You’re not wearing gloves.”
“My fingerprints are not on file,” I reminded him.
“I don’t care. I don’t want to give the cops any reason to go on a witch hunt. If they find fingerprints in this truck that don’t belong to our rape-happy friend here, they’re going to try to find answers.”
I hate it when he’s right. The realization didn’t keep me from arguing with him. “They’re getting a murdering rapist off the street and they’re going to be able to tout it to the high heavens. I don’t think they’re going to focus elsewhere.”
“Let’s make sure of that, shall we?” With one final groan, Luke heaved George into the seat. George’s head flopped back, his eyes open but unfocused.
After explaining my idea to Luke – which he initially agreed with – I exerted undue force on George’s mind so he would write a letter acknowledging his crimes. He included the location of his souvenir stash and a “goodbye cruel world” narcissistic rant that I thought fit his crimes. We used the cat journal Luke insisted on buying, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the police psychologists would have a field day assigning a reason to his notebook selection. When George was done with his confession, we put the notebook into a water-resistant baggie and placed it on the front seat of the truck next to him.
We then drove George’s truck to the lake and shifted him to the driver’s seat. He was still alive after my last mental blast, but he was in a world all of his own. We needed him to drown if our story was going to … well, hold water … for the police. With his mind gone, he would have no idea what was happening. He deserved the terror of knowing he was going to die, but we couldn’t take that risk.
“Is that everything?” Luke asked, scanning the floor of the truck.
“It should be. Wait … put his seatbelt on.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know if he drove with his seatbelt on or off and we don’t want to create suspicion.”
“If he drove with it off then we’ll be creating suspicion,” Luke countered.
“Not if the police figure he strapped himself in because he didn’t want to panic when he was underwater.”
Luke’s face would have been comical under different circumstances. “Whatever.” He leaned in and pulled the seatbelt around George, fastening it with a flourish.
“What about the seat?” I asked before Luke had a chance to close the door.
“What about it?”
“Did you move it up to drive?”
Luke shook his head. “No. I’m glad t
o see you thinking this way, though. You’d make an excellent criminal.”
I scowled. “Look one more time.”
Luke sighed, but did as instructed. When we were both sure, I stepped back and watched as Luke put the truck in drive and then swiftly slammed the door shut. We impassively joined hands as George’s truck rolled down the embankment and eased into the lake.
“We’re sure that the cab isn’t airtight, right? I would hate to think there’s some way he could regain his senses and go hunting,” I said.
“There’s no way it’s airtight. Just to make sure, though, I cracked the driver’s side window. Not a lot … but enough that water will seep in.”
“Do you think he’s dead yet?” I asked. It wasn’t concern or regret propelling me to ask the question. No, it was something else I couldn’t identify: part curiosity, part worry that he would somehow get out of the truck, part weariness at how long the day was starting to feel. Nothing inside of me reflected regret, though.
Luke shrugged. “Can you reach out with your mind and find out?”
I could but … . “I don’t want to feel him die.”
“I thought you said he wouldn’t know he was dying.”
“I’ll know.”
Luke pulled off the rubber gloves – I wasn’t going to ask why there was a supply in his truck – and slipped an arm over my shoulder. “We can wait until you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
“While we’re waiting, why don’t you tell me about Security Studmuffin and your tingly feelings for him.”
“Run, Luke. Run while you still can.”
WE waited fifteen minutes. That was all either of us could take. When I reached out with my mind I met darkness. If George was still alive, I would have been able to touch the last vestiges of his soul. It was dim.
I wordlessly linked my fingers with Luke’s as we walked the two miles back to the circus in the dark. We were silent, both lost in our own thoughts. We were almost back to camp when a figure appeared on the road in front of us. We’d waited to move George’s truck until the darkness could hide us, and now it was pitch black.
mystic caravan mystery 01 - freaky days Page 6
