“Oh, yes, Hagen’s Cove’s full of history.”
“Are you from around here?” Jessica asked.
“Been living here the past thirty years. I saw your plane arrive. Are you with Kyle Elkheart’s group, by chance?”
Jessica nodded. “You know him?”
“I knew his father.” The woman’s kind eyes darkened with concern. “When are you aiming to go the reservation?”
“When the others return from the lake, I guess.” After an awkward pause, she offered her hand to the woman. “I’m Jessica, by the way.”
“Where are my manners? Wynona Thorpe, pleased to meet you.”
“Are you a descendent of Hagen Thorpe?” Jessica looked back at the black-and-white photo of the businessman standing among the lumberjacks.
“I married into the family.” Wynona looked back toward the people eating in the restaurant and then lowered her voice. “Let me offer some advice. Tell Kyle to take you and your friends someplace else to spend your holiday. Vancouver or Banff. It doesn’t matter where, just get far away from the reservation.”
“Why? What’s wrong with staying there?”
Wynona pressed closer. Her breath smelled of stale liquor. “I’ve been dreaming about you.”
Jessica released a nervous laugh. “What?”
The woman pointed a shaky finger up toward the ceiling. “They’ve been speaking to me in my dreams. They told me you were coming and that you would be in danger out there in the woods.”
Jessica looked up the staircase, hoping Kyle would return soon. “Uh, I need to go find my friend.”
“Listen to me!” Wynona’s hand lashed out and grabbed Jessica’s wrist.
“Let me go.” She tried to break loose, but the woman’s grip was strong.
“Trust me, Jessica. The sins of the father shall fall upon the sons. Tell Kyle to go far away from the Devil’s Woods as quick as you can.”
As Wynona turned and hurried toward the exit, a crumpled piece of paper fell from her purse. Jessica picked up the paper and called out, “Ma’am?” but the woman rushed out of the tavern too quickly.
Confused, Jessica unfolded the paper. On it were sketches drawn in heavy charcoal. Demon faces bordered a collage of mutilated bodies, some disemboweled, some decapitated, others of nude women with their legs spread wide, like a teenage boy might draw, only these women were more realistic, sketched by someone with a talented hand and a demented mind.
* * *
Wynona Thorpe pounded the steering wheel as she left the tavern in her Buick. She glared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Wynona, you stupid, stupid fool. You’ve gone and done it this time.” She shook her head and laughed. “Bet she thought I was crazy.” She touched the ivory Jesus hanging from her mirror. “Lord, forgive me for my sins. And deliver the innocent from evil. In Christ’s name, Amen.”
Wynona pulled into the driveway of the Thorpe Funeral Home and Crematorium. She parked beside a maroon hearse. The front half of the building was where Wynona worked as the town’s mortician. She walked through a parlor full of empty coffins. In the mortuary, her thirty-year-old son, Hugo, was sitting at a metal slab, listening to opera music and painting makeup onto the face of a naked woman’s corpse.
Wynona yelled, “Hugo!”
Her son turned around on his stool. “What, Mother?”
“I…” She squeezed her fist. “I told you to dress them before you apply the makeup. Show the dead some decency.”
Hugo looked back at the corpse’s large gray breasts and grinned. “It’s such a waste when they die so young. Especially the pretty ones.” He caressed the sutures that stitched up the college girl’s chest.
Wynona couldn’t believe this man had once come out of her womb. Hugo had his father’s gray eyes. Every time she looked at them she saw the bastard who had knocked her up thirty years ago.
Hugo grinned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mother, I’ve got a masterpiece to finish.” Moving to the rhythm of the opera, he rolled lipstick across the dead girl’s lips.
Wynona shook her head and walked down the hall to their home at the back half of the building. She went to the liquor cabinet in the den. Her hands trembled as she poured brandy into a tumbler. She gulped down the entire drink and then poured another.
She stepped into her art studio where the walls were covered in charcoal drawings of the twisted nightmares she’d been having lately. One of a black demon face with white pinpoints for eyes stared back at her. She went to a curio cabinet, opened a drawer and pulled out a photo of Jon Elkheart and herself taken at the reservation. They once had an affair that got too many people whispering in this town. Now, seeing Elkheart’s face, the brandy absorbed Wynona’s sorrow. Her eyes clouded with memories of a time when lying in Elkheart’s arms was the only thing that made life worth living.
Wynona rubbed the scars on her wrists. What was Kyle doing bringing people to the reservation? Hadn’t Elkheart warned his kids to stay away? Obviously not, the stupid drunk. She sipped her brandy. Best not to worry about ’em. What happens to those kids is the devil’s doing.
Part Two
Ghost Village
I don’t know why I have strange visions and can see ghosts or how I became cursed with this gift. Maybe it was falling through the ice and drowning when I was five, dying for three whole minutes before I was revived. Or perhaps it was after my God-fearing stepfather beat me so brutally that I crossed death’s doorway once more. However it started, I can assure you there is a spirit world and it is all around us. And not all ghosts are friendly.
—Detective Winterbone
Chapter Four
After Eric, Shawna and Zack returned from the boat ride around the lake, the group gathered with Ray in front of the marina’s general store. Kyle was stunned that his dad’s ex-girlfriend had threatened Jessica. He looked down at the twisted charcoal drawings of mutilated bodies, shaking his head. “I met Wynona last summer when I visited Dad. She seemed like a nice woman. Ray, what happened to her?”
“Their relationship ended badly, and Wynona never got over it. Every time your father comes into town, she shows up drunk and begs him to take her back.”
Shawna said, “Wow, our dad has a stalker?”
Eric put an arm around his girlfriend. “Where does this bitch live? I’m going to have a word with her.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Ray said. “Your threatening her would only make things worse. She once came at your dad with a knife. I’ll let her doctor know she’s had another episode.”
Jessica said, “She warned us to stay away from a place called the Devil’s Woods.”
“That’s just an old superstition among the townspeople,” Ray said. “They have all kinds of stories about the woods around here. Campfire tales mostly. Pay no attention to anything Wynona told you.”
Kyle looked at his watch. “Guys, we’ve only got a couple hours of sunlight left. Let’s get some groceries and then hit the road.”
While Eric and Jessica went to rent a second vehicle, Kyle, Shawna and Zack shopped at the general store and stocked up on enough food, beer and supplies to last a week. Kyle carried a box of groceries outside to a beat-up blue Jeep Cherokee that was already packed with their luggage.
Ray tossed the keys to Kyle. “It’s gassed up and ready to go.”
Kyle opened his wallet and pulled out some cash. “How much to rent your vehicle?”
Ray waved his hand. “Nothing. Use it for as long as you need it. I’ve got another one.”
“Thanks.” Now that Kyle had a moment alone with his cousin, he said, “Ray, I’m concerned about the drawings that Wynona left behind. Do you think she had anything to do with Elkheart’s disappearance?”
“Nah, the most Wynona would have done is run him out of town for a while.”
“I hate not knowing where Dad went.”
“He’ll come back after he sobers up. He always does.”
Kyle nodded.
“Sure I can’t ta
lk you into staying here in town?” Ray asked. “Since the tribe left, the cabins at the reservation have gotten pretty run down. I keep meaning to go out there and fix the place up, but I’m too busy running the lodge and marina.”
“I’d prefer to stay at my father’s house. I also want to check on Grandfather.”
“He’s gotten more senile since you last saw him. He might not even recognize you. You’d be more comfortable staying at the lodge.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I want Eric and Shawna to revisit our childhood home.”
Ray nodded. “If you change your mind, you’re welcome to stay here free of charge.”
The sound of an engine growling turned into the gravel lot. Eric parked a shiny black Hummer next to the scratched-up Jeep Cherokee.
Kyle narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Eric, do you always have to one-up me?”
His brother smirked and took a swig of beer.
Ray walked up to his window. “Ey, I’d hold off on drinking until you get to the reservation. The police around here are real sticklers about drinking and driving.”
“You got it.” Eric downed his beer and tossed it into a barrel. His eyes looked glassy after drinking on the boat.
Kyle said, “Why don’t you let Jessica drive?”
From the passenger seat, she said, “I offered, but he won’t let me.”
“I can drive just fine,” Eric said. “Let’s get a move on.”
There was no use trying to take Eric’s keys away. Kyle had tried a few times before and ended up in a fistfight. His brother was taller, stockier and threw a mean punch.
“Just drive slowly,” Kyle said. “It’s only ten miles, but the roads are narrow.”
Eric gave a salute.
Kyle went back to the Jeep. Now, Shawna and Zack had disappeared again. It seemed like every time Kyle turned his back, they were gallivanting off somewhere. Earlier they had locked themselves in the marina bathroom doing God knows what. This time he found them down by the lake.
Shawna saw him coming and hid whatever she was smoking. Giggling, she punched Zack’s shoulder to get his attention. The air around them reeked of pot smoke.
Kyle glared at his sister and her boyfriend. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight. What you do back in Seattle is your business. But we’re in a foreign country. That means no drugs.”
Zack lowered his face. “Sorry, Mr. Elkheart.”
Shawna made a little girl face. “Ah, don’t be like Eric.”
“Seriously, Shawna, you can get into some serious shit if you’re caught with that.” Kyle held out his palm. “Hand it over.”
“Fine.” She gave him the joint.
Kyle walked over to the reeds and tossed it into the lake.
Still giggling, Shawna and Zack followed him back to the Jeep. Kyle sat behind the wheel and started the engine. His sister climbed into the front seat. “Sorry, bro. Still mad?”
“No, just use your head.”
Ray walked up to Kyle’s window and gave him a knowing look. “You kids stay out of trouble, you hear? This is a peaceful town, and we’d like to keep it that way.”
“We will.” Kyle felt ashamed of his siblings. “Can you make it over for dinner this evening? I’m making my mother’s world famous stew.”
Their cousin smiled. “I’ll do my best. No promises though. The tavern keeps me busy on Friday night. Probably be after supper if I do.”
“Swing by anytime,” Kyle said.
Everyone waved goodbye to Ray as the Jeep and Hummer left the marina store. Kyle felt a surge of excitement as he drove down the paved road that led out of Hagen’s Cove and into the backwoods where he was born.
* * *
Buzzards circled the blue sky, searching for road kill.
Kendra Meacham lost track of how long she’d been walking along the winding road. With her twisted ankle, she had to stop every few hundred yards. She kept looking back to see if any cars were coming, but none came. She wished she had driven her own car, but her ex-boyfriend Jake had taken her keys. She imagined him barreling around the curve in her Mustang, hell-bent on running her over. The thought caused her to quicken her step.
He can’t find me here. I’m safe. I’m safe.
The late-afternoon sun bore down on her. Her clothes were sticking to her, her hair matted down with sweat. She drank the last of her water and stuffed the bottle back into her backpack. Everything Kendra owned was beginning to burden her shoulders. She couldn’t wait to reach town.
Up ahead a green sign read, Hagen’s Cove 10 Kilometers.
Her spirits deflated. At this pace it would be nightfall before she reached town. Someone had to come along soon. Eventually the mill workers would end their shift and drive into town. She just hoped Jorgen wasn’t one of them. The thought of seeing that pig again made her nauseous. If he was a regular at the tavern, then she had no choice. At least she had shown him what happens when you mess with Kendra Meacham. Next time she’d zap his balls.
That brought a smile to her face.
She came upon another dirt road with some rusty mailboxes. A dilapidated sign with bullet holes in it read,
Lake Akwâkopiy
Cree First Nation Reserve
No Trespassing
Be careful when you pass the old Indian reservation. The woods are haunted.
Remembering Jorgen’s warning, Kendra hurried past the sign.
He was just trying to spook me. Nothing to be afraid of here. Move along, folks.
She heard a rustle somewhere in the woods. She hop-walked quickly, earning lots of complaints from her bad ankle. Once again the woods choked the road, the long pine branches reaching for her. A thick canopy of branches blocked out the sun, forming a natural tunnel. The forest along this stretch was darker, the maple, aspen and pines hovering close together. They didn’t seem like normal trees. More like beings with old souls who had gathered close to the road to watch the plight of the gimp girl.
Keep going, keep going.
The story of her life. Always running.
This time she was going to plant some roots. Make long-time friends. Maybe even settle down with a man who knew how to treat her.
Kendra stopped for a rest. She was growing weak from exhaustion and thirst, and to top off her miseries, she had to pee wicked bad. She started to squat alongside the road, but felt too self-conscious. She hiked into the woods, having to push back branches. “Shit!” The ground sloped and she stumbled downhill several feet before it finally leveled off. She groaned, rubbing her ankle. It hurt so badly now that when she put any weight on her left foot, the ankle buckled.
“Christ!” Now she had to find a walking stick. But first she had to take care of business before her bladder burst. Kendra pulled down her shorts and panties. Pine needles scraped her ass as she squatted at the base of a spruce. Relief came instantly. She looked around. The vegetation was so overgrown in here that her eyes had to adjust to the gloom.
Again something rustled in the trees.
Kendra jerked her head. The tangle of pine needles distorted her view of anything beyond a few feet.
It’s probably just a squirrel.
But the sounds persisted. Footsteps crunching over leaves, a body snapping branches. And then the air filled with a god-awful stench, like the smell of carrion.
Kendra willed her body to stop peeing and held her breath.
From the road came the sound of tires trundling over pavement. Thank God. A ride out of here.
“Hey!” Kendra yelled, rising to her feet. She pulled up her shorts and started to run up the hill. A lightning bolt of pain shot up her left leg. She collapsed.
The sound of the vehicle drew closer.
“Wait!” Kendra climbed, dragging her leg. “Wait!”
Up hill, a white RV passed.
“Down here! Stop! Stop!”
The motor home kept going.
Kendra lay on the side of the hill. “Damn it!”
A twig snapped.
&nbs
p; Gasping, she glanced downhill. A dark shape hunched on the other side of the limbs. Some kind of animal was watching her.
“Oh, Christ!” Kendra scurried up the hill.
Behind her something exploded through the tree limbs.
The Devil's Woods Page 6
