Demons Shemons

by K. B. Draper

  “Then took the rest of her for … what? A midnight snack?”

  “Who knows with demons?”

  “Right.” I took another glance around. I didn’t see anything that I hadn’t seen the night before. Besides the evidence of the predators that had visited the scene overnight. I could smell their scents and see their paw prints. I searched the trees, finding only the abandoned web of a spider that had zigzagged a hasty mesh of silk, apparently wanting to get a look-see as it didn't take the time to complete its normal intricate design. Finding nothing of use, I turned to Danny. “You ready? I don’t think there’s anything more to see here. Plus, I want to get a few more miles in before we have to shower and get ready to-”

  “Go get,” Danny finger quoted, “interrogated by the sexy ranger?”

  I pointed to the forest. “Run,” I ordered.

  “I was just joking,” Danny said as he started to retreat. “I was just making light of the whole murder-suspect situation. You know … ha, ha, ha, handcuffs.” He nearly tripped over a branch as he scrambled backward.

  “Run,” I repeated, still pointing.

  “AJ! Come on now …”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  “Ahh, damn it!” Danny yelled as he spun and took off sprinting into the forest.

  I was grinning when I took off after him.

  We raced through the woods, making the natural terrain our own backyard obstacle course. I caught him easily, slapping him on the back of the head as I passed him. We ran for another twenty minutes before I headed back to the campsite.

  Danny was breathing hard when we finally slowed at the edge of the lake. We walked the last few hundred yards so our bodies could cool down.

  I held up a fist. “Nice run, partner.” It felt good to burn off the built-up tension from the last two days.

  Danny knuckle-checked me. “Nice run, partner,” he repeated. “I’ll set you up.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, knowing that he was talking about the outdoor shower that consisted of lifting a five-gallon tank of water with a shower head rigged to it on top of Woody’s roof.

  By the time I had my towel, soap, and a change of clothes, the shower was up and Danny was back to his tablet. The cold water was always a shock to the system, but after the initial “holy fuck that’s cold” my skin liked the sting and tingle that the water sent racing over my body. With only a few gallons of water and Danny also needing a cool water rinse, I hit the essentials, doing a quick leg shave and wash of my hair. Of all the things that changed when I became a demon hunter, long hot showers were one of the things I missed the most. Every once in a while after a long stretch on the road, I would let Danny book us a room in a motel where I took full advantage of having a shower curtain and limitless hot water. In the meantime, it was no modesty and ice water, which all added up to me being showered, dried off, and what passed as presentable in less than five minutes.

  Danny took three minutes, choosing to go without shaving, a look he pulled off especially well.

  It was barely eight o’clock, but being on demon-hunting hold, I was restless. “Head out? Get gas and check out the town a little?”

  I had only really seen the sheriff’s department and Betty’s, but the rest of the town was just how I presumed it to be—old. We didn’t see any homes or buildings that had been built in the last decade. I figured it was suffering from the same fate as most small towns in America. Its residents were being forced to move to the bigger cities to find work to sustain themselves. We wove through the small community, taking a turn on any street that caught our fancy. There were a lot of vacancies, and many of the properties were no longer maintained. We passed a large manufacturing facility that was once a lumberyard according to the faded paint scrawled down its side. A panel of its tin roof had blown off and was lying in a large blacktop parking lot that once could have easily held a hundred vehicles, but was now home to a single, vacant “Homegrown Tomatoes” stand.

  “I bet when that place closed it was an economic blow to the community,” Danny suggested, giving the place a once over as we drove by.

  “Definitely,” I agreed.

  At some point we’d inadvertently exited the actual town because as Danny turned toward Betty’s we passed a city limit sign boasting that they had a whopping 2,526 residents. By the looks of things, I didn’t figure the city had done a head count recently.

  We stopped at Betty’s as it was on the way to the ranger station and we were down to the last few drops in Woody. “I’ll fill up. You run in and get a few things?”

  “Sure,” Danny agreed.

  “Great. I need tampons.”

  “You suck,” Danny announced as he climbed out of Woody and shut his door in my grinning face.

  I chuckled as I got out to fulfill my end of the “don’t have to buy embarrassing girlie products” bargain.

  “Need anything else?” Danny asked over the hood.

  “No, but keep your ears open in there. See if anyone is talking about anything.”

  Danny nodded and moved away. I turned to the old-school gas pumps. A crackled voice came over an overhead speaker. “Pump two is on for the blue Jeep.”

  The white dials were slowly rolling over to

  “$ assload”. Apparently, Woody was going on a bender. I switched hands. My right hand was getting a cramp because the very convenient metal holder-in-placey thing was not-so-conveniently missing. As I naturally did anywhere I was, I scanned the area around me. I even added an overhead scan of the sky, because that’s apparently a thing now. I didn’t see anything. There was nothing else moving in the parking lot, nothing abnormal anyway, unless you count the perfectly clean, brand-new, pearl white, Cadillac 4x4 truck that was pulling up to the pump at the next island. The newest truck I had seen in this town thus far was a 1993 Ford F150. I glanced at the plates. This state. This county.

  I was curious about its occupants as it was easily a $60,000 truck, which meant it cost more than most of the houses we’d seen. There was also the small question of “Seriously, who buys a Cadillac truck?” What self-respecting farmer buys a Cadillac truck? The kind that wears diamond studded pinky rings apparently, as I caught the sparkle of bling as a hand pushed open the door.

  It was more cop instinct than Norm this go around that had me replacing the pump nozzle and plotting a way to get closer to the driver. He was tall, six feet plus. He was just a tad taller than his truck, or maybe a tad less as I heard boot heels hitting the pavement and making their way around the front of his truck.

  I decided to go for the squeegee so I could get a closer look. The man that rounded the hood wore pressed jeans and a buttoned-down plaid shirt that read more Ralph Lauren than Farm ’N Home. He had light green eyes, rimmed in long black lashes. His hair was brown, slicked back flat, with just a bit of curl at the ends. I assumed the cowboy hat that he used to complete this wannabe cowboy look was still on his front seat. He was in his late twenties, handsome, if you were into pretty man-boy posers, which I sooo wasn’t on any or all fronts. He didn’t make eye contact with me as he grabbed the gas pump, flipped the nozzle, and engaged the handle holder.

  I dropped the squeegee, splashing blue water in his direction on accidental-purpose. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t get any on your boots, did I?”

  His annoyed grimace dropped the second his eyes met my boobs. Appreciating what he saw apparently, he turned on his best imitation of a sexy grin by the time he got to my face. “Not at all, ma’am. It missed me entirely.”

  “Geez. I’m such a klutz sometimes,” I said, channeling my best dumb blonde. I bent over to pick up my tool of attention-getting to give him a bonus shot down my tank-top.

  He stepped over the gas hose. “Well, I have to say you’re the sexiest klutz I have ever laid eyes on.” He reached out a hand. My first impulse was to rip it off and hang it from his bumper like those super-classy ball sack ornaments but removing people’s hands seems to already be a trend in this little town, so I shook it instead
.

  “Addison Jo,” I offered, though I hated to say my real name out loud, especially in public. But it did work well in a blonde pinch.

  He turned my wrist over and kissed the back of my hand. “Wayne Jr. It’s very nicccce to meet you, Addison Jo.”

  The way he drew out the word “nice” as he gave me another up and down made me want to do some not so nice things to his face, like punch his perfectly white teeth down his throat. I don’t know exactly why I took an instant dislike to this guy. It was either the PMS talking or the “Oh, the things I could do to you” look on his face. Good possibility it was a mixture of both.

  “What brings you to our little town, Addison Jo?”

  “Just some sightseeing. Visiting your lovely forest,” I replied.

  He leaned a hip against his truck, crossing well-defined arms across his chest. “I’d be more than happy to act as your personal tour guide, show you some more intimate sites that you won’t find on a map.”

  Damn it. I hate upchucking in my mouth so soon after I brushed my teeth. “Would you now?” I giggled, then stepped forward to detect whether the faint hint of demon was coming from him or the bed of his truck. I gave his collar a playful tug. “That sounds awfully nice of you.”

  “Nice is my middle name.” He gave me a wolfish grin, leading me to believe he was all but nice.

  “AJ?” Danny called out.

  I looked over my shoulder and gave Danny my best Miss America wave. Which was a very clear sign that something was most definitely up. I never ever Miss America waved. At least not under normal circumstances. Danny knew that, and I smiled as his back stiffened and he moved my bag of tampons to his left hand, freeing up his right. I turned back to Wayne. “Boyfriend,” I said with a hint of disinterest.

  Wayne Jr. leaned closer. “Lose the Indian and meet me tonight at the Down ’N Dirty. I’ll show you some sights and what a cowboy can do for ya.” He winked as he righted himself, tipping his nonexistent hat.

  I fake giggled again, then turned back to Woody before I ripped off Wayne Jr.’s … Raisinets and hung them from the rear bumper of his stupid-ass truck.

  “Who was that?” Danny asked when I jumped into the passenger seat.

  “Wayne Jr., the Mary Kay truck driving, Mayor of Douchetown,” I supplied.

  Danny started up the engine. “Umm, I find that not at all interesting.”

  “Try this on your interest scale. He told me to dump your Indian ass so I could ride a real cowboy.” I waved a hand. “Or something to that effect.”

  “Mayor of Douchetown it is then,” Danny agreed.

  I glanced at my watch. “We have a few minutes yet, so let’s follow him.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a feeling,” I replied.

  Danny’s hand paused on the shifter. “But bad things happen when you have feelings.”

  “Exactly why I don’t watch the Hallmark channel.” I did a shooing motion. “Let’s go. I don’t want to lose him.”

  Danny dropped Woody in gear. “Seriously? There are like five cars and seven streets in this town.” Danny pulled out. Wayne Jr. was easy to follow. The speed limit never got past twenty-five and he only made two right-hand turns before taking a third into a parking lot. Danny drove past slowly, both of us turning to see his final destination. Wayne Jr. drove diagonally across the large vacant parking lot of a two-and-a-half story, white stucco building that didn’t look as if it had been hit by the same financial downturn that plagued the rest of the town.

  “New Life - Assembly of God Church. Union City,” Danny read as Wayne Jr. pulled to the front of the lot and parked in the “Reserved for Pastor” parking space.

  “Wow. I didn’t see that coming,” I said. “However, it does explain the pussy truck.”

  “God’s word delivered by Reverend Wayne Cline Sr.,” Danny continued.

  “Daddy then,” I stated. “Let’s add this to our ‘to be figured out’ list.” I drum-rolled Woody’s dash. “Right this second we need to go get questioned by a certain sexy ranger.”

  Ashlyn was standing on the front porch, her cell phone to her ear when we drove up and parked in front of the small, quaint, cabin-style ranger station. She smiled when she saw me, or maybe Woody. We both get that a lot. When I stepped out, I caught the end of her conversation. “Yes sir, it’s being handled. She’s here now actually. I will give you an update later.”

  Well, isn’t that sweet; she’s already telling her friends about me.

  Ashlyn ended her conversation, sliding her phone in her pocket, and greeted us with a weak smile on her lips. “You’re right on time.”

  “Ask and thou shall receive,” I said. Danny gave me an odd look, I shrugged. “Getting that close to a church must’ve filled me full of the holy spirit.”

  “Filled you full of something for sure,” Danny muttered as we stepped up onto the porch.

  “I appreciate you two coming in,” Ashlyn said as she held the door open for us.

  Ashlyn was the only one present in the small office, which I thought was interesting and somewhat encouraging as she apparently didn’t see Danny or me as too big a threat to meet by herself.

  “Welcome to my home away from home. It’s not much, but we don’t spend a lot of time in here,” Ashlyn explained as she ushered us further into the space.

  The cabin wasn’t large, maybe forty by forty. It was an open floor plan with only two closed doors along the right-hand wall, which I assumed was an office and a bathroom. I’d seen similar cabins and guessed some government blueprint was passed out to builders to use for park rentals, and in this case ranger stations. Off to the left, a kitchenette offered all the modern office amenities: a microwave, refrigerator, and coffeepot. Where I assumed the couch and dining room area would be normally laid out, the rangers had placed two office desks, a row of filing cabinets, and a couple of chairs.

  “Can I get either one of you anything to drink? Coffee? Water?” Ashlyn asked.

  When Danny and I both declined, Ashlyn moved to sit behind the desk beside two large windows that looked out over the forest. Instead of sitting, I stepped forward and admired the view. “Beautiful,” I stated.

  “I’d rather be out there, but when I have to be inside, the view eases the pain a little,” Ashlyn offered, the pride for her forest evident in her voice.

  “You sound like you love your job,” I said, turning to look at her.

  “I do,” she replied. “Please have a seat so we can get this over with and I can get you on your way.”

  I took the seat next to Danny, looking directly at Ashlyn now. I saw the exhaustion on her face, in her eyes. She hadn’t gotten much, if any, sleep last night.

  “I know that I was with you for part of the events last night, but I need to get everything on record. Mr. Whitefang,” Ashlyn started.

  “Danny, please.” Danny interrupted her.

  “Danny,” she conceded. “We will start with you, if you don’t mind. Can you please recount your travel and actions starting with the last two days?”

  Danny told his story, or at least the one we had agreed upon on the ride in. I took the opportunity to study Ashlyn. She was left-handed. I knew this already because she carried her gun on that side, but this fact about her was more apparent as she took notes while Danny spoke. Her handwriting had the unique tilt that most lefties have, and I couldn’t help but fantasize about the unique tilts and angles she could bring to places besides the desk. Nope. Scratch that. I could conjure images for the desk too.

  She asked Danny about why we traveled in two cars and he’d given her the same answer I had, that we were coming from two different places. That little lie, we’d had to work on, as it hadn’t been a great answer to begin with. All she’d have to do is check his paperwork or see his temp tags, which likely she already had, so we opted for a story based a little more on fact. I left Danny behind because he ate my Oreos, but he was already looking at the Prius because we needed to split up after this trip.

/>   Ashlyn glanced at me when Danny hit the Oreo part of the story. I shrugged. “PMS.” She apparently took that as a viable answer. She chuckled and began writing again.

  She followed up Danny’s statement with a few more clarifying questions. After they went back and forth a few times, Ashlyn laid her pen down on her notebook. “Thank you, Danny. I think that’s all the questions I have at this time.” She pulled out a desk drawer and grabbed a couple of blank statement sheets. “Do you mind writing down what you told me? Please include places and any people that can verify your story, including the receipt and information you showed me last night.” She handed him the paper and a pen.

  “Sure, no problem. Here or …?” Danny asked, looking around the room.

  “You can take them to that desk or outside if our,” she nodded at me, “conversation will bother you.”

  “Do you mind if we go outside instead?” I interjected. I needed some fresh air to dissipate the sweet, enticing smell of Ashlyn or my mind might not be able to detach from images of me, her, and her desk.

  “Suurrre,” Ashlyn answered hesitantly.

  “Just slightly claustrophobic,” I explained.

  She looked at me curiously, obviously adding my words to my refusal to go to a motel. “Oh, oh yeah, okay … Sorry. Sure.” She started gathering her notebook and pen, knocking over her water bottle in her haste.

  I caught the bottle, righting it. “It’s not a big deal. I’m good.” When I saw her relax, I added. “I simply like being outside better.”

  “So it’s more of a preference versus …”

  I smiled. “I’m not going to start foaming at the mouth or peel my skin off trying to get outside, no. I just enjoy the outside more than the inside.”

  “Me too.” She grinned. “Let’s go outside then.”

  I chose the side of the table that was upwind from Ashlyn, but it did little to help my libido because every time she looked at me, her eyes lit up with the warm light of the sun. I, like Danny, told my version of the events. When I finished, she met my gaze.