by Tim McGregor
“You better not mean me, mister.” She swatted his arm playfully. “You do bring in the ladies when you fill in. Maybe you should pinch hit more often?”
“And have you as a boss? Like that wouldn’t spell disaster.” He kissed her cheek and came around the desk. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
The bell over the door jingled. A group of men filed into the shop.
“We’re closed, guys,” Adam called out. “Sorry.”
There were four of them and when they moved in, both Adam and Jen startled at their appearance. All of them were decked out in black-and-white face paint.
“What the hell?” said Jen.
There was a hostile energy to their swagger. Clearly, these men were not here to shop.
Adam stepped out, putting himself between the men and his girlfriend behind the counter. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so,” said one of the men. “We’re looking for a friend of ours. English dude named Gantry.”
“Never heard of him,” answered Adam
It took a moment before the name registered with Jen. They meant Billie’s friend. He had been here once. She was about to speak up when all hell broke loose.
“Wrong answer,” said one man. Two of the others sprang at Adam, pummelling him with fists until he went down. Then they laid into him with their boots.
Jen shrieked at them to stop but her voice cut short when she saw one of them flick open an old cigarette lighter and set fire to a dress on the rack.
~
The stain on the ceiling tile had become a Rorschach test, its mottled pattern of discolouration morphing into different images every time Kaitlin looked at the hateful blemish. So far she had envisioned an elephant, a sailboat and a troll’s face within its pattern from staring at it so long. This time, squinting at it in the dim light, she was trying to picture antlers but the sound of the door clicking open broke her concentration. Her pulse ticked up. “Who’s there?”
“Just me.” Billie slipped into the room, closing the door behind her. “Did I wake you?”
“I don’t sleep anymore,” Kaitlin said. “Or I’m never fully awake.”
Billie leaned against the bed. “Do you want to be alone? I can scram.”
“No, please. Stay. I’m just sick of this place.” Kaitlin fiddled with the bed control, raising it into a sitting position. “It’s past visiting hours, isn’t it?”
Billie pulled the chair close. “I snuck in. I wanted some company.”
“What’s going on?”
“I just didn’t feel like being alone right now,” Billie said, dismissing it. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
“You can stop fussing over me.” Kaitlin narrowed her eyes at her friend as if trying to see through her. “But something’s troubling you. Tell me.”
Billie’s first instinct was dismissive, to shrug off her own worries in light of the concerns of others. But she rebelled against her own nature, wanting to flush it out into the open. “Jen hates me.”
“That’s not true.”
“She blames me for all of this,” Billie said. “For what happened to you.”
“Well she’s wrong. And I’ll tell her so.” Kaitlin looked at the pulse monitor clasped to her finger. “You tried to warn me about it. But I didn’t listen.”
Billie rubbed her hands together in a restless motion, like she was trying to warm them. Kaitlin watched her fidget in the chair. “You’re going to rub your hands raw like that, Billie. What’s really on your mind?”
“Mockler,” Billie said, exhaling his name like she’d been holding her breath.
Kaitlin sat up straight. Her eyes brightened with delight. “Did something happen? When? How?”
The smirk was impossible to stifle. Billie felt her cheeks run hot. “A couple days ago.”
“Look at you blush. Details, Bee. I want details.” Kaitlin leaned in, starved for distraction, the juicier the better. “Did you go on a date or something?”
“A date? No. We were out of town, looking into my mom’s case.” Billie let out a wistful sigh. “God, I’d kill for a date. A normal, plain-Jane date.”
“Wait a minute, he was with someone. What happened to her?”
“They broke up.”
“Oh,” Kaitlin said. “When? Was it because of you?”
“She moved out a couple weeks ago.” Billie brushed her hair out of her eyes. “He said it didn’t have anything to do with me. But I’m not so sure.”
“But they split before you hooked up? That’s all that matters. ” Kaitlin grinned and went on. “So what happened? What do you mean out-of-town?”
“Poole. Where I grew up. We were stuck overnight.”
“By stuck, you mean you ‘arranged’ to be stuck?”
“No! It just happened.”
“That means he arranged it,” Kaitlin declared. “So you did it? You dirty dog. So? How was it?”
“Stop,” Billie protested.
“Oh come on. Spill.”
Her cheeks hurt from smirking too much. “It was good. Great. Mind you, it had been a while, so even if it was bad, it would have been good.” Billie covered her mouth. “It was kinda surreal.”
“You were hammered?”
“No. It just seemed unreal. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I’d thought about it so many times before, picturing it, wondering who would kiss who first. Stuff like that. But in the moment, I couldn’t quite believe it was happening. I was kinda shy too. You know?”
“Everybody’s shy the first time. That’s normal.” Kaitlin reached out to playfully swat her friend’s knee. “Look at you blushing and all. I’m happy for you, Bee. I truly am. You deserve to have someone good to love you.”
The sincerity of it took Billie by surprise and her eyes welled up out of the blue.
“Ahh, sweetheart don’t cry,” Kaitlin consoled. “It’s a good thing. You’ve liked him for a while, haven’t you?”
“Silly, huh?” Billie wiped her eyes, feeling foolish at the sudden tears. “It’s just, we’ve barely had a chance to talk. Everything’s been so crazy.”
“Where is he?”
“Still out at the church ruins. Helping the forensic guys bring up mom. I don’t know when he’ll be done.”
Kaitlin smiled. “You miss him?”
“Yup.”
“We should celebrate. God, I want to get out of this stupid hospital.”
Billie sat up. “Have they said when you can go home?”
“Maybe soon. They said I’m healing well.”
“Will Kyle look after you or are you staying with your folks? You can stay with me if you want.”
“Kyle’s promised to take care of me. He’ll have to contend with my mom the whole time. That might get ugly.”
A shrill noise rang out. Billie’s phone. “Shoot. I meant to silence this.” When she dug it out, a smile beamed across her face when she saw the caller display.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” asked Kaitlin.
“Yeah,” Billie said, answering it.
Kaitlin shooed her away. “Go talk. I’ll wait here.”
“Hi,” she said, slipping out to the hallway. She wondered if he could tell she was smiling. “Where are you?”
“I’m still here,” Mockler said on the other end. “These things take a while. You all right?”
“Yeah. Visiting Kaitlin.” Billie paced the floor. “I miss you.”
There was a pause on the other end. Then he replied. “You do?”
“No, I’m lying,” she smirked. “Of course. It’s good to hear your voice. When are you coming home?”
“If we’re lucky, we’ll be done before sunrise.”
“You must be exhausted,” she said.
“I’m feeling it.”
“You should come over when you get back. You can sleep at my place. Then I can, you know, make you breakfast or something.”
A tiny laugh on his end. “I have a bed of my own, you know. A whole empty hous
e, in fact.”
“Of course,” she stammered, backpedaling. “I mean, you don’t have to or anything. I just thought, you know. Never mind.”
“Easy tiger. I just meant I’ll need a change of clothes. I’m covered in muck.” There was a pause. “You know, you could always come to my house.”
His house, she considered. Which used to be their house. The one he shared with Christina. “Maybe,” she said, being polite.
“Listen,” Mockler said, his tone shifting. “Have you heard from your friend with the shop on James? Jan?”
“Jen,” she corrected. “No. Why?”
“Something came over the radio. I missed most of it but I thought the dispatcher said her address. You might want to check on her.”
“Oh. Was it bad?”
“A break and enter. But I missed part of it. I’m trying to get dispatch on the horn to confirm.”
“Okay,” Billie said. “I’ll call her.”
“I need to get back,” he said. “I’ll call when I’m heading home.”
“Okay,” Billie said. She began fretting about how to say goodbye. Should she say more or not? Was an endearment too much? “Well. Bye.”
“Stay outta trouble, kid.” The call ended.
Kid?
What the hell did “kid” mean?
Chapter 25
THE DOLL HOUSE WAS trashed. The racks were overturned, garments scattered everywhere. The picture window in the door lay shattered over the sidewalk. A single police cruiser on the scene, its cherry lights revolving slowly. Adam sat on the pew, pressing an ice pack to his face. Jen was seated on the floor with her knees tucked into her chin and her arms clutched around her shins. A police officer knelt beside her, asking her questions but without getting a response.
From where Billie stood, she couldn’t tell if Jen was hurt or not.
When neither Jen nor Adam had answered their phones, she had rushed over to James Street in a cab. Her stomach dropped through the floor when she saw the flashing lights of the police cruiser. With both uniformed officers busy, there was no one to stop her from rushing inside.
“Jen?” she called. Her shoes crunched over the broken glass as she ran to her side. “Jen, are you all right?”
Jen didn’t move. Her head was tucked in, brow pressed against her knees and she didn’t look up when Billie spoke her name. The police officer rose up, already waving her back. “Stay outside please, miss.”
“I’m her friend,” Billie spat, then she turned back to Jen. “Jen, look at me.”
Jen seemed lost to the world, as if deaf. The officer escorted her away. “Outside, please.”
“What happened here?”
“A group of men broke in and assaulted the shop owner and her boyfriend.”
Adam rose from the bench, lowering the ice pack from his face. His left eye was swollen shut. “Get out of here, Billie.”
“Adam, who broke in?”
“Some creepy goons,” Adam snarled. “They were looking for you. And your piece of shit friend, Gantry!”
She went numb, vaguely aware of the officer backing her out the door. What was he saying? Who would attack Jen and Adam looking for her? She caught a last glimpse of Jen before she was ejected from the shop. The look in her friend’s eyes held nothing but withering contempt.
The officer walked her out to the street where he ordered her to stay unless told otherwise. Then he marched back inside, leaving Billie to stew on the sidewalk.
“I’m sorry, Billie.”
Spinning around, she found Gantry watching from a few yards away. “Gantry?”
“This is my fault,” he said, coming alongside her. “The arseholes who did this were looking for me.”
“Why would they come here?”
“Because I’ve been sloppy.” He nodded at the broken window. “Are they hurt bad?”
“I don’t know. The cop threw me out.” She looked at him. “Who did this?”
“Ever heard of Crypto Death Machine?”
Her brow furrowed. “Is that a movie?”
Gantry pulled something from his pocket and handed it to her. A photograph of a big man onstage screaming into a microphone. His face was obscured under lurid face-paint. She had seen his image before but couldn’t remember where.
“That’s Crypto. He’s got a score to settle with me. And he’s got a few thousand hardcore fans ready to do anything he tells them to. Like trash someone’s shop.”
She handed the photo back. “His fans did this? To find you?”
“They’re easy to spot.” He balled the picture up and threw it into the gutter. “They all wear the same retard clown make-up as his nibs here.”
Billie looked back to the shop window. “Why is he after you?”
“I haven’t the foggiest. Doesn’t matter. Come with me.” He took her by the arm and led her away.
“I can’t leave now,” she protested.
“The filth are here. Your mates are safe with them. Walk with me.”
Billie chewed her lip but there was nothing she could do for Jen now. They walked south. The street appeared empty.
“I need your help.”
“With what?” she asked.
“Finding this dipshit for me. The sooner you locate him, the sooner I can rip his head off and shove it up his own jacksy.”
Billie stopped and looked at him like he was crazy. Which, in fact, might be the case. “How am I going to find him?”
“Crypto Wank Machine likes to diddle with the occult. That makes him a bit of a sore thumb to anyone of the dead persuasion. All you have to do is ask, and they’ll lead us straight to him.”
She took a step back, wanting no part of that scheme. “No.”
“I’d do it meself, Billie, if I could. But you’re the one with the talent.” His Zippo clicked open, the smell of lighter fluid in the air. “Come on, luv. Open a channel. Before this arsehole targets anyone else you know.”
The courtyard of the armoury was empty save for a few vehicles parked against the southern drill hall. Billie had wanted some privacy and both noticed the gates of the armoury were still open so they ducked through the fortress-like entrance to the quadrangle. Gantry took a step back to give the woman some room.
Billie took a deep breath to calm her pulse and closed her eyes. Opening up to the other side was easier now, a simple matter of unlocking her heart to what lay beyond. When she opened her eyes, the dead were there. She spotted a dozen of them immediately on the street before her, drifting along the pavement or lingering in doorways. A few looked down from the windows above. All of them swivelled their heads in her direction the moment she opened up, as if a bell had been rung.
The first to reach her was a woman in a nurse’s uniform. Dark foam dribbled from her lips, staining the white tunic she wore. The second was a man who appeared to be twisted in half at the spine, shambling toward her in a weird trot. A child appeared next. His clothes were soaking wet and he was dragging an empty dog leash in one hand. Then a soldier from the armoury, sporting the colours of the Argyll Highlander regiment.
Gantry blew smoke into the night air, noting how she stiffened up. “Are they here?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what you see.”
“A suicide,” Billie said, her voice low. “By poison. A terrible car accident. A boy that drowned and a soldier. I can’t tell how he died.”
“Will any of them talk to you?”
“They’re all talking. Telling me how they died or who hurt them or how unfair their death was.” Her hands were restless, rubbing over one another like she was trying to warm them. “None of them will listen to me.”
“Are there anymore or is that it?”
“Oh there’s more,” she said. “A lot more. I’m drawing quite a crowd now.”
Gantry shuddered as a cold wave passed through him and he knew the dead were close. All he saw was Billie standing alone in the courtyard of the fortress but the drop in temperature hinted at what was o
ut there.
“A hanging. A fall from a tower. Another drowning.” Billie went on, cataloguing the death of the spirits around her. “They’re all so angry and bitter.”
“Is there anyone who’ll talk?”
“I’m looking,” she said curtly.
Gantry felt a bump against his arm and a nudge to his back. The dead didn’t like him very much, which was fine by him but if this took much longer, he feared being swarmed by a mob of contentious dead.
“I think I found someone,” she said.
“Mazel tov,” Gantry groaned impatiently. “What’d this one die of?”
“Gunshot to the face,” she replied. “His own hand. He said he wanted to be like his hero.”
Gantry flicked his cigarette away. “That’s what we’re looking for. Ask him if knows Crypto or his arsehole goon squad.”
“He does. He said he’ll bring us to him.”
“Oh?” Gantry’s brow arced in surprise. “That was dead easy. This one’s a real Casper-the-friendly-spook type, yeah?”
“It’s rare. For me anyway.” Billie strode for the gates, waving at Gantry to follow. “Come on.”
“Why’s this one being so helpful?”
She didn’t answer but a smirk had broken out over her face.
“What?”
Billie leaned close to whisper. “He said he thinks I’m pretty.”
“The lad has taste,” Gantry said as he followed the woman who followed the boy only she could see.
It was less than four blocks away, at the back end of a grubby looking building. There was no sign but the music thundering from beyond the plain door marked the place as a club of some kind.
“He’s here,” Billie said. “Inside.”
Gantry studied the building for a moment. “Ask him how many people are in there.”
“He said it’s packed. And most of the people inside are wearing that face-paint.”
“Perfect.” Gantry marched for the door. “Thank your friend for me.”
Billie caught his arm. “Whoa. You’re not going in there?”
“I didn’t come for the view. It’s time to lay the boots to the little turd.” He shook his arm free. “Better clear off, luv. It’s bound to get messy.”
