by J. Bryan
Juliana jumped in surprise, then grabbed Sebastian’s hand. It was her repeat customer, the man who stared at her a little too hard. He lit a cigar with a match.
“He’s got a special offer for you,” Filip said. “A side gig. Sounds like it pays well.” Filip tapped a folded dollar bill jutting from his shirt pocket. The bearded man had clearly seen Juliana enter the haunted house and paid an entire dollar just for Filip to stick around and help him.
“I don’t do private performances,” Juliana said.
“Are you the ones who caused all the ruckus at the tent revival about a month ago? In Missouri?” the stranger asked.
“We don’t know what you mean,” Sebastian said quickly.
“In that case, I must be the country’s worst detective,” he said. “After interviewing all those witnesses and tracking down this carnival. If you were the ones I was looking for, I know a man who’d like to meet you. He’ll pay you for your time. A sawbuck. Each.” He held up a pair of bank-crisp ten-dollar bills.
Juliana’s eyes bulged at so much money. Perhaps she did give private performances.
“Ten dollars for what?” Sebastian asked.
“We should take a walk.” The man led them out to the center of the midway and strolled down it, away from the performance tents and toward the front gate. Filip departed in the opposite direction.
“I’m a private investigator,” he told the two of them. “Currently on retainer for a man—an association of men, in fact—looking for people with...how do we say it? Unusual abilities. The ‘supernormal,’ they call it. Supernatural, even.” He smoked his cigar, looking them over as if measuring them. They were out of earshot of the last remaining carnies, who were closing down the grab stands.
“Why?” Juliana asked.
“Explaining beyond that isn’t my job. What I can tell you is that one of them lives here in South Carolina, and like I said, he’s offering you ten dollars each just to sit and talk with him. You might get a good meal out of it, too.”
“And what will we talk about?” Juliana asked.
The man shrugged.
“Is he here in town?” Sebastian asked.
“No, he’s in a much bigger town, Fallen Oak. About two hundred miles southeast.”
“Two hundred miles! We’ll be gone for days.” Juliana shook her head.
“That’s what you might think, but I have a Ford Model 18. It has eight cylinders, can you imagine that? If we set out tomorrow at sunrise, we can be in Fallen Oak by lunchtime, you can be back to the carnival by dusk. Twenty dollars richer.”
Sebastian and Juliana shared a look. It was a difficult offer to turn down.
“Personally, I don’t know whether you two are ‘supernormal’ or whether you’re just plain old hucksters,” the detective added. “The man’s made up his mind to see you. If I were you, I’d take the cash.”
“What’s his name?” Sebastian asked. “This man who wants to see us?”
“Jonathan Barrett. He’s a big-timing banker around here. This association I mentioned, it involves a lot of men like that, bankers, businessmen, politicians...You could do well for yourself with them, if you’re sharp.” The detective stopped walking. They’d reached the end of the midway, and he looked over the padlocked sugar shack with its peeling painted clowns. “I’d say there’s room for improvement in your future. These days, we all gotta watch for any chance we can get.”
“Ten dollars is a lot of money...” Sebastian said. He gave Juliana a questioning look. She hesitated, then nodded.
“We’ll go,” he told the detective.
“Sunrise tomorrow,” the detective said. “I’ll meet you right here.”
Filip was waiting by the locked front gate to let the detective out. Juliana watched him climb into a long black automobile with running boards beneath the doors. He cranked it up. The round headlights flared to life, like the glowing eyes of some demonic creature opening in the night, and the engine growled as the Model 18 pulled away from the fairgrounds and drove off down the dirt road.
“Fallen Oak,” Juliana said. “That sounds like a creepy place.”
“All of it sounds creepy,” Sebastian said. “Whatever this banker guy says, we just say ‘no’ and pocket the money. Agree?”
“I agree,” Juliana said, watching the lights of the car disappear through the trees.
“Wise choice,” Filip said.
“Have a good night, Filip,” Juliana said. She walked back into the fairgrounds, Sebastian at her side.
“Ah, Sebastian,” Filip called after him. “I can see you’ve forgotten, but you did not help close down the house for the night. We still have work to do.”
“Oh, sorry, Filip.” Sebastian turned to Juliana and kissed her cheek. “Good night,” he whispered in her ear.
“Good night,” she whispered back. She watched the two of them return to the haunted house.
She glowed as she walked back to her tent, still feeling his lips on her face.
Chapter Twelve
“Oh, come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant...sing it, Nevaeh!” Darcy said, bobbing her head to the Casting Crowns CD as she strung lights on the tree in her apartment. Nevaeh, almost fourteen months old, rose onto her feet, giggling, and grabbed onto the strand of glowing, teardrop-shaped electric bulbs. She yanked them from the tree and tried to stuff the bright bulbs into her mouth.
“Nevaeh, stop that!” Darcy knelt and pulled the string of lights away from her.
The little girl screamed, her face turned red, and she grabbed insistently for the lights.
“Nevaeh, no! You’ll shock yourself!” Darcy held the lights even farther away, and Nevaeh shrieked again, slapping Darcy in the face. “Nevaeh!” Darcy gasped.
Decorating the apartment for the holiday had been a struggle all along, from Nevaeh trying to eat the cotton lambs from the nativity scene to Darcy trying to figure just what in Juniper she was supposed to do with all the Catholic stuff Ramon’s mom had given them, like statues and candles of saints.
She was Darcy Espinoza now, a clerk at Patterns & Pins in Columbia, but she thought she could make assistant manager in a few months if she played her cards right, and if Bernice retired when everyone expected her to. Her husband Ramon was a cook at a MexiCarolina fusion place. Ramon’s mother lived here in Columbia, too, and she watched the baby a lot, which gave Ramon time to study culinary arts during the day. It also gave Darcy time to attend praise-based Christian aerobics class four times a week.
Darcy liked their little apartment in the city. Life felt like an adventure here, far away from all the misery of Fallen Oak. It was a pretty safe little adventure, and she liked that, too.
Darcy picked up Nevaeh and touched their noses together, looking into her baby’s flat brown little eyes. They were just like her father’s, Bret Daniels from Fallen Oak. Ramon wanted to have more babies, and Darcy hoped for a little boy next time, one she could give a pretty Spanish name.
“Oh come, let us adore Him,” Darcy sang into her little girl’s face. “Oh come, let us adore Him...”
A fist banged on her front door, startling her. Nevaeh began screaming and ripped at the little ribbons in her hair.
“Sh! It’s okay...sh!” Darcy went to the front door and looked out through the lens. In a big city like Columbia, with over a hundred thousand people, it wasn’t safe to just go and open the door to anybody.
She saw three men outside, all in dark suits, one of them many years older than the others. He stood at the front of the group, staring at her door. They looked important, like police officers.
“Hello?” Darcy asked through the door.
“Darcy Metcalf?”
“Espinoza,” she added.
“Excuse me?”
“Darcy Metcalf Espinoza. I’m married, you know. My husband will be home soon.”
“Mrs...Espinoza,” the man said. He held up a badge. “I’m Constable Ward Brown of the South Carolina State Law Enforcement Division.”
<
br /> Darcy gasped. The state police! She hoped Ramon wasn’t in some kind of trouble.
“What can I do for you?” Darcy asked.
“You can start by opening the door, ma’am,” he said.
“Oh, Goonies! I’m sorry!” Darcy hurried to unlock and open it. Nevaeh immediately charged on hands and knees toward the open door, determined to escape the apartment. Darcy had to block her with her leg, and the toddler responded by screaming and pounding Darcy’s knee with her fists.
“We need to come in and ask a few questions,” Constable Ward Brown told her.
“Yes, sir. Come on, Nevaeh!” Darcy scooped up her daughter, who responded with screaming, kicking, and pulling Darcy’s hair. “Okey-dokes, I guess you can come inside. Sorry about the mess everywhere.” Darcy nodded at the open boxes of decorations and wrapping paper scattered through the small living room. “Just trying to deck the halls a smidge! ‘Tis the season, you know!”
“Uh, yes,” Ward said, following her inside. He nodded back at his two men, and they stayed outside, closing the door after him. He was clearly the boss, Darcy thought.
“You can sit on the couch, but watch out for the glitter and ribbons!” Darcy warned. “Can I get you anything? Fruitcake? Christmas Krispies? I make them with Rice Krispies, you know, and food coloring.”
“No, thank you.” Ward glanced at the gift-wrapping flotsam that covered the couch, and he sat in the easy chair instead.
Darcy frowned, thinking Ramon wouldn’t like some stranger sitting in his favorite chair. She sank down to the couch, where Nevaeh immediately grabbed double handfuls of ribbon and stuffed them in her mouth.
“Nevaeh, stop it!” Darcy barked. “I’m sorry, officer. What did you want to ask about?”
“Mrs. Metcalf—”
“Espinoza.” She held up her left hand, displaying a wedding ring with a tiny flake of diamond.
“Mrs. Espinoza, after the Easter events in Fallen Oak...I’m sure you know which Easter I’m talking about...you gave a very interesting interview to a doctor from the Centers for Disease Control. Isn’t that right?”
“Oh, Gobstoppers, that was so long ago,” Darcy said.
“You said two kids from your town, Jennifer Morton and Jonathan Seth Barrett IV, were most likely responsible for the event. You made a reference to witchcraft.”
“I know, it sounds crazy,” Darcy said.
“Why did you believe they were involved?”
“Just all the witchy things they did. Nevaeh, put that down!” The little girl had opened a can of gold and tinsel glitter, which spilled everywhere as Darcy tried to wrestle it away from her. Nevaeh screeched and cried.
“What kind of witchy things?” Ward asked, ignoring the wailing baby completely.
Darcy, while struggling with Nevaeh, managed to tell him about the time the tractor had fallen on Jenny’s dad, and he should have died, but Seth healed him in front of a small crowd of people. That was when everyone had started talking about witchcraft. Then, on Easter, Darcy and some other girls had seen Jenny afterward, at Ashleigh's house.
“She killed Ashleigh until she was nothing but bones and junk,” Darcy told Ward. “I know, because I buried her. And then Jenny jumped in the pond and had to’ve drowned, but then she was alive and perfectly okay after that.” Nevaeh smacked Darcy in the face a few times, and Darcy lowered the girl so she could crawl around on the carpet. “I know this might sound strange to you, because not everyone is a believer, but I think God and Satan had a showdown in Fallen Oak. It looked like the devil won at first, but then really God won. I’m still glad to be away from that place, though.”
Ward leaned forward and touched the back of her hand.
“I’m a believer, Darcy,” Ward said. “You can tell me anything, especially about Jenny Morton.”
“Oh, whoosh! Big relief,” Darcy said. “You never know, with so much atheism these days. So, anywho, I think Jenny and Seth were on the devil’s side, and then Ashleigh and us were on God’s side.”
“Why do you say the devil won, and then God won?”
“First, Jenny defeated Ashleigh, and then Ashleigh was dead. But later, God sent Ashleigh back with the angels, and whatever she did must have worked, because Jenny was pretty much gone after that. I only saw her like one more time. Nevaeh!”
Nevaeh had crawled back to the tree and plucked a bright red ornament, and she was currently attempting to eat it like an apple. She squalled when Darcy took it away from her.
“You say Jenny defeated Ashleigh. That was Easter?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” Darcy picked up the crying Nevaeh again and held her.
“Explain the part about Ashleigh and the angels?”
“Oh, I can try. You see, these two angels came to me. One of them pretended to be Ashleigh's cousin at first, he even looked like her, same gray eyes. The other one was Mexican-looking, but I guess angels aren’t really from Mexico or America or anything. Anywho, this angel brought Ashleigh's soul back, and Ashleigh had to use my body for a while. To finally defeat Jenny, I guess. Like she couldn’t finish her mission in life, so I had to help her.”
Ward was just staring at her, his eyebrows raised.
“Aren’t you taking notes or anything?” Darcy asked. “I thought cops took notes.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll remember everything you say. How was it that Ashleigh finally defeated Jenny?”
“I dunno. That big riot in Charleston must have been part of it. Because Ashleigh's spirit left me after that, and I woke up in a hotel room and didn’t remember too much.”
“I spoke with your parents in Fallen Oak, Darcy,” he said. “They told me you were friends with Jenny, at one point.”
“Nah, that must have been Ashleigh's soul working through me. Tricking her, maybe. I don’t really remember what all happened, because it was like I was asleep while Ashleigh was in me.”
Nevaeh wailed, snot pouring down from her nose.
“That’s a lovely baby you have there.” Ward stood and touched Darcy’s shoulder. This time, his touch was like ice water, flowing through her shoulder and up to her brain.
For a moment, Darcy relived her memories—the two angels sitting in her room, then Ashleigh’s soul filling her up, a quick flash of Ashleigh’s face...and then, weeks later, waking up in the hotel room, her purse missing. Finding out she’d checked in under her dad’s credit card, which he’d reported stolen. Having no ID and going to jail.
Then, months later, Jenny and Seth coming to the Taco Bell and giving Darcy the PayPal card from Ashleigh’s charity. A couple of days after that, Darcy heard both of them had died in the fire at Barrett House.
“That was another thing I wanted to ask about,” Ward said. “How did you come to administer the funds raised by Ashleigh Goodling? Why did she give you all that money?”
“So I could hand it out to everyone. I did it, too. An equal amount to every girl. That was another witchy thing about Jenny, all those girls getting pregnant.”
“But it was Jenny who gave you the money? That surprises me. I thought you said she was evil.”
“Even the devil is ruled by God, you know,” Darcy said. “Maybe she had to give it to me for some reason. I dunno. But I did what I felt like I was supposed to do.”
Ward nodded, backing away from her.
“That’s a very...unexpected story,” he said.
“It’s all true!”
“I know it is. That’s the strangest part of all.” Ward shook his head. “You’ve been both less and more informative than I expected.”
“Well, I’m sorry and you’re welcome, I guess!” Darcy smiled, and Nevaeh punched her in the mouth. The little girl shrieked and cried even louder.
“Sure. It would be best not to mention we were here, Mrs. Espinoza. Not to anyone. That could be construed as interfering in our investigation.”
“Oh, golly! I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise!”
“Right. Have a good evening, Mrs. Espinoza.” Ward o
pened her front door and stepped out to the hall.
“Merry Christmas, officers!” Darcy shouted at him and the two police officers outside, but nobody said “Merry Christmas” back. Darcy wondered whether the constable was really a believer or not.
* * *
“Five, six,” Ward said, as Avery and Buchanan trailed him through the apartment building’s breezeway, toward the concrete steps. “One of them’s dead, but she can possess the living. Another one can communicate with the dead. And we have another appearance from our friend with the fearful touch and gray eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be the mastermind. If Senator Mayfield doesn’t do us a favor and die tomorrow, our next move is track down ‘Tommy’ and a Latino girl named ‘Esmeralda’...no known surnames.”
“That doesn’t sound like much for the data miners to go on, sir,” Buchanan said.
“The rare eye color might help us identify the male,” Ward told him. “Search police and prison records, all the usual.”
Avery held the door as Ward climbed into the car. When they pulled out of their parking spot, Ward said, “It looks like there are two factions. This Esmeralda, Ashleigh, and Tommy were one—Tommy is probably the ringleader. Jenny and Seth are another.”
“What about the zombie guy?” Avery asked.
“We don’t know where he fits, do we? But I believe the events we’ve seen—the Easter plague in Fallen Oak, the riot in Charleston, the Barrett House fire—are all simply side effects of their conflict. They leave a path of destruction behind them.”
“Sounds like somebody ought to neutralize ‘em,” Avery said.
“Acquire or neutralize, that’s our objective,” Ward said. “This ‘Tommy’ has a particularly dangerous power. We find him first. If we can bring him over, his entire faction might follow their leader.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jenny stood in front of the little wall mirror in her studio, her shirt off, turning side to side as she examined herself. At four months, her belly was really starting to pooch out. So far, she’d kept to wearing loose, bulky shirts and sweaters, and she’d joked about how the French cheeses and chocolates were fattening her up, but it was clear that she would have tell Seth the truth pretty soon. She was shocked the pregnancy had already lasted so long, but she hadn’t used the pox at all, except to frighten Mariella once, which she regretted. Besides that, she’d done what she could to keep the developing baby safe.
