Wrong Turn

by Catie Rhodes

  I nodded. No need to tell Colleen that Josie and Loretta Nell were psychically merged. She might think I was off my rocker and clam up.

  "Josie reminded me of my younger sister. She pulled me in so deep. It all happened before I knew what was going on." She lifted a shaking hand to wipe at the damaged side of her face.

  "She fooled me too, and I thought I was ready for her." I caught Colleen's gaze and gave her what I hoped was a nod of solidarity. Colleen's condition wasn't something I'd avoided out of smarts or toughness. I'd simply been lucky.

  Colleen crossed her right leg over her left and then hooked that ankle around the left leg. Something a child would do. It had the effect of making her seem smaller. When Colleen spoke again, her voice came out in a soft squeak.

  "I thought it would be therapeutic to let Josie work through her delusions about Loretta Nell Grimes. Josie told me all about Loretta Nell and her nasty book. Names, dates, information she should have never known. Told me where to find things, who to ask." Colleen stopped speaking and swallowed. "She was obsessed with what became of the lawmen who’d helped dispatch the Messengers."

  Tanner smiled a little at her play on words. I didn’t think it was funny.

  "According to the website, all the deputies there that day and their descendants are dead. Except for Josie." This was what Tanner and I had discussed coming over, and I wanted to see if Colleen agreed.

  "That horrific website." A little smile played on her lips. "It's wrong. Josie somehow knew there was one last survivor."

  Neither Tanner nor I spoke.

  Colleen seemed to take our silence as some kind of judgment. "You don’t understand what she was like, the things she’d say. It was like I’d fallen under a spell."

  In as sympathetic a voice as I could manage, I asked, "Did Josie ever explain her obsession?"

  "Not really. She just said the book was useless as long as the last survivor lived." Colleen sat back in her chair, pressing herself hard against its plush back.

  Tanner and I exchanged a glance. He looked as confused as I felt. I'd seen Loretta Nell using that book. It didn't matter if this last survivor, whoever he was, lived or not. I could understand Loretta Nell wanting the lawmen who stopped her tirade of terror dead. But saying they rendered the book useless? That didn't make sense.

  I turned back to Colleen. "Josie convinced you to find out who he was, didn’t she?"

  Colleen reddened, and her good eye lowered. "He’s the son of Harris Coates. On record, Coates was childless and unmarried. But he had an illegitimate son. The mother left town before the baby was born and raised him on her own. They were long gone by the day of the massacre."

  "Any idea where he lives?" Tanner threw me a quick, nervous glance.

  "How do I know the two of you aren’t somehow caught up in Josie’s thrall? I lost an eye over this man. How do I know you aren’t just going to kill him?" Colleen’s voice raised a little.

  "You don’t," I said. "But I’m going to die day after tomorrow if I don’t find that book."

  Colleen’s skin turned ashen. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

  I sat back, already ashamed of what I was about to do. "You don't. But you do know I'll get Suzy fired from her job if you don't pony up whatever information you've got."

  Colleen's eyes narrowed. "You're not going to do that. It almost made you sick just to tell me that."

  Annoyance flashed behind my eyes, kindling another headache. "All right. How about this? If I can track down this book, I'm also going to banish Loretta Nell Grimes's ghost from this plane. She'll leave Josie alone and make Suzy’s job easier."

  Colleen unwound her legs and clasped her hands on top of them. She sat that way for so long, I considered prodding her with magic. Without warning, she took a sheet of paper off the table next to her chair and held it out. Tanner stood and retrieved it. He handed it to me and sat back down. Harris Coates’s son was named Aaron Todd. He lived in Devil’s Rest.

  "How’d he end up there?" I shook the paper at Colleen. It contradicted the story she told us about the expectant mother leaving Devil’s Rest to raise a child on her own.

  "I don’t know. But I can’t believe he doesn’t know who he is." Colleen sat still except for her chest rising and falling.

  I stood. "Thank you for speaking with us."

  Colleen stood. "What are you going to do?"

  I shook my head. "Go see Aaron Todd. He might be the answer I'm looking for."

  Colleen didn’t look too convinced. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t either.

  10

  The journey from Colleen's front door couldn't have been more than twenty yards, but it felt like a million miles. The dark townhouse where Colleen spent her days and nights felt like a prison.

  Tanner walked with his head down, hair swinging in his face, but it didn’t hide his downturned mouth. Needing a little ray of light in my life, I hurried to his side and took his hand. He pecked my cheek.

  "I felt sorry for her," he almost whispered.

  "Me too. It's like she stopped living the day Josie hurt her." Another thought crowded into my mind before I even stopped speaking. At our cores, were Colleen and I so different?

  Tanner and I climbed into the truck in silence. I searched Aaron Todd’s address. He’d been there all along, right in Devil’s Rest, just blocks from Phil’s Monkey Burger. I started navigation.

  Tanner listened to the directions with a blank look on his face. He’d stuck the keys in the ignition but hadn’t started the truck.

  “It’s a trick, isn’t it? You’ll run around in circles until you run out of time, and that’ll be that for both of us." His words came faster and faster at the end.

  Dread settled at the pit of my stomach like a lead cannonball. So far, I had successfully avoided this train of thought. There was no point in it. It wasn't like there was some chthonic being quality control line I could call and complain about Mohawk being unfair. Either I'd manage to outplay him, or I wouldn't.

  "I suspect you're right, but I will absolutely not lose by default." I stared at Tanner's profile.

  He sat with his fists clenched. He'd have fought Mohawk right then—and died—if he could have.

  "There is a way to work this out. It'll likely involve cheating Mohawk, but I don't have a clear enough picture to know what to do. So let’s go see Aaron Todd." I lit a cigarette and leaned my head back.

  Tanner drove too fast all the way back to Devil’s Rest. We found Aaron Todd’s tidy, slate-colored, mid-century bungalow with no problem. On the front porch, the smell of fresh paint mingled with the freshly turned soil in the flowerbeds. I knocked and got no answer other than the endless, patient bark of a dog several houses away.

  "Aaron ain’t here." The voice came from the other side of the porch.

  I had to back several steps away from the door to see a man staring through the stark white porch railing at me. His white hair puffed over the top rail like a bunny’s butt, and the way he had his hands wrapped around the rails reminded me of someone in jail.

  I checked my watch. Mid-afternoon. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. "Where can I find Mr. Todd?"

  The old man huffed. "What’re you selling, lady?"

  I got a glimpse of myself in the door’s glass top half. Tight jeans, boots, tight-sleeveless T-shirt. Tattoos on my arms. Hair a wild, dark mess trailing down past my shoulders. A bruise forming on my forehead. I sauntered toward the guy. "What’s it look like I’m selling, mister?"

  Tanner came up the walk, head lowered, staring at the guy from under his brows, a snarl set on his fine lips. He had one fist doubled up.

  The oldster took another look at me, his mouth hanging open. "A-a-aron’s got a honky-tonk out past the Devil’s Slumber Inn."

  A frustrated scream built in my throat. I knew the exact place, having passed it on my way to and from the Stephens Ranch. "The Devil’s Dance?"

  Never in my life had I wanted to roll my eyes worse. I’d wasted hours tussling with Josie, Suza
nne Fitch, and Colleen Pellingham. And for what? So I could come back to Devil’s Rest and go to a place I’d noticed within my first few hours of being in town.

  The old guy, focused on Tanner, who’d advanced to the point they were standing chest to chest, could only nod.

  Tanner, radiating danger, leaned into his face. "We can find Aaron Todd at the Devil’s Dance honky-tonk?"

  "Y-y-yep." The guy turned away from Tanner and hurried in the other direction. The sound of the dog barking got louder for a second, only to be cut off by a slamming door and the man’s scolding voice.

  "Let’s go." Tanner started walking back to the truck.

  I followed, feet sinking into the lush, green lawn. Aaron Todd’s neat house and his manicured lawn were not what I expected from the bastard son of a deputy who’d had a ghost’s target on his back. What would Aaron Todd be like?

  I climbed into the truck next to Tanner. He sped out of town and down the road to the honky-tonk. When we passed the Devil’s Slumber Inn, Dwight stood in the parking lot talking to two girls who looked just about old enough to get themselves in hot water and too young and stupid to get themselves out. They both held Dwight’s homemade maps.

  The sight made something wiggle at the back of my mind, some connection. But then we passed the motel, and it slipped way. A few minutes later, the sign for the Devil’s Dance Roadhouse came into view. It was roadhouse. Not honky-tonk. Stupid old man.

  The sign featured the requisite red devil, pointing a finger at a dog dick red building. Underneath the devil, another sign read "Bikers Welcome." Figured. It was just the sort of place a bunch of road hogs would love.

  A surge of missing Wade rose up and evened out before I had time to really think about it. He wouldn’t have been any more help than Tanner, and he might have been more trouble. I glanced over at Tanner, only to find him watching me, that same sad expression on his face.

  "Come on." I tried to make my voice brisk. "We find that book, maybe we can get a motel room in San Antonio. Take a few days before we rejoin Sanctuary."

  Tanner tried to smile, disbelief dulling his normally brilliant eyes. "I’d go for that."

  In the roadhouse parking lot, Tanner grabbed my hand and wound his fingers through mine, and we crossed the gravel without talking. A spring screeched as I pushed open the door, and the smell of stale beer and staler air conditioning rolled out. Reminded again of Wade, I took the first step inside the darkness. A darkened glass window with a slot to pass money and probably IDs sat to our right. Next to it was a sign that read "Cover charge $10 when a band’s playing." Our feet whispered on the concrete as we passed by the window, down the dark hallway, and into a large open area.

  The sound of a shotgun being pumped echoed through the room. "You found me."

  Tanner stopped and put his hands up. I snorted and walked toward Aaron, daring him to shoot me. Tanner grabbed at me, but I danced out of his grasp.

  I sat down at the bar. "That old bastard tell you I was coming?"

  Aaron didn’t answer. Thin lips pressed in a line, he leveled the gun at my face, nostrils flaring with each breath.

  "Put it down and let’s talk." I tried to pretend my heart wasn’t trying to chisel its way out of my chest. In the mirror, Tanner still stood, hands raised and eyes wide with almost comical horror. I twisted around so I could speak to him. "Aaron ain’t going to shoot us. Come on."

  Tanner hesitated, chest rising and falling fast. He lowered his arms.

  Aaron dropped the gun’s barrel. "She’s right. Shooting her would put me in a tub of hot shit." He shoved the gun out of sight, took a ring of keys out of his pocket, and began flipping them on his hand.

  I laughed, dizzy with relief. This whole ordeal was making me crazy. Aaron laughed with me, and something in it caught my attention. Aaron and I took each other in.

  The rough, weathered skin around Aaron’s mouth twitched but never turned into an actual teeth-baring smile. His faded blue eyes twinkled. I didn't necessarily go for men nearly old enough to be my daddy, but Aaron had a weird kind of charm. The done it all, seen it all kind. He probably had to beat women off with a stick.

  Aaron winked. I pretended not to see. Tanner slid onto the barstool next to me. I clasped hands with him and kissed his cheek. Aaron, eyes still locked on mine, gave me a sage nod.

  "So what do you want with me? And what do you want to drink? You need to drink if you’re going to sit in here." Aaron set cardboard coasters emblazoned with red devils in front of us.

  "Iced tea and lemonade?" I shrugged. Tanner pointed at a bottle advertising a locally made beer. Aaron busied himself getting our drinks. I spoke to his lean back. "What I came here for is going to sound crazy."

  Aaron set my iced tea and lemonade in front of me, raised his eyebrows, and gave me that almost smile again. "Do you know how many times women have said that to me?"

  My mouth started to curve. I bit my lip and glanced at Tanner. He sat very still, gaze fixed on Aaron like a dog guarding a favorite toy. Come any closer, buddy, and I’ll snap.

  Aaron saw the look and shook his head. He might think Tanner a wimp because he had been afraid of the gun. He’d regret his mistake if he disrespected Tanner.

  "I know your father was Harris Coates." I blurted the words out to slap some of the cockiness out of Aaron. Sure enough, the I’m-so-sexy smirk dropped off his face.

  "And?" He got the keychain back out and swung it around his index finger. Once. Twice. He flipped the keyring into his hand and curved his fingers around it.

  "I’m looking for a book that belonged to Loretta Nell Grimes and the Messengers. You know anything about it?"

  Aaron swung the keys around his finger again. "Just that if you’re in a jam over it, you’re a dead woman." He tipped his chin at Tanner. "You too."

  Tanner blew out a snort that reminded me of a bull getting ready to charge. And he might have been. He spoke to me. "Let’s go. He doesn’t know anything."

  "That’ll be ten for the beverages." Aaron didn’t sound like he was fooling around either.

  I did roll my eyes then. "Stop the shit. Both of you."

  But Tanner stomped through the bar and slammed outside.

  With Tanner gone, Aaron smirked again and leaned on the bar and stared into my eyes. "I’ll tell you anything you want to know, you drink a shot of tequila with me."

  I shook my head. "Talk to me anyway."

  The door screeched, and Tanner came back in. He slammed a crumpled ten dollar bill on the bar, sat down on the barstool next to me, and took a long pull on his beer. He clunked it back down on the bar and glared at Aaron, mouth set in a snarl. Aaron laughed.

  I took the crumpled picture of Loretta Nell holding the book out of my pocket and laid it on the bar. "I’m looking for this book."

  Aaron picked up the picture and frowned at it. "Loretta Nell Grimes. She sure was a looker. What makes you think I’d know about this book?"

  "Because Loretta Nell says you're the key. She wants you dead." I knew the words would get a reaction out of Aaron.

  His ruddy skin turned pasty, and he pushed the picture back at me. "Bullshit."

  "Nope. It’s true. I’m a spirit medium. I’ve been in contact with Loretta Nell Grimes, and she says you're the key. What does that mean?" I leaned on my elbows and watched Aaron Todd the same way I'd watch a snake.

  "What do you want the book for?" Aaron brought the shotgun up to sit on the counter between us. Next to me, Tanner went still, his grip tightening on his overpriced craft beer. I put one hand on his back and looked at Aaron like he was almost as scary as a roll of toilet paper.

  "I’m working for a collector who wants the book." The clock ticked endlessly in my head, and I begged the universe for this not to be another runaround.

  Aaron Todd shook his head, and I knew I was sunk. "I don’t know nothing about any book."

  I tipped my head back and put my hands over my face.

  Aaron put one cold, rough hand on my arm. "Now I didn�
��t say I ain’t got some ideas for you, honey."

  "She ain’t your honey," Tanner growled.

  Aaron Todd laughed. "Every woman’s my honey, mister."

  Tanner shot out of his seat.

  "Will the two of you just can it?" I nudged Tanner. "I’m not interested in him." I pointed at Aaron Todd to make clear who I meant. "But I do want to hear what he has to say."

  Aaron’s smirk almost broadened into a smile.

  I stared into his faded eyes. "And you. Stop fucking with my man, or I’ll kick your nuts up so high they’ll look like a chin implant." The smirk fell off Aaron’s face. I gathered the power of the mantle. "Tell me what you know. Now." The lights behind the bar flickered, and thunder boomed in the small room. A hot wind picked up and fluttered Aaron’s carefully shabby hip clothes.

  Aaron’s eyes darted around the room. "What is that? What are you doing?"

  "What I do." I made lightning pop behind the bar. "Tell me what you know, or I’ll do more."

  Aaron grabbed on to the old wood and squeezed his eyes shut. "Fine. I didn’t grow up with my father. Met him during the last couple of years of his life. Daddy always said he was marked for what happened that day."

  I shook my head. "But the Messengers were bad people. And Loretta Nell was worse."

  "The shoot-out wasn’t all that happened. It was what happened after that." Aaron took a shot glass from beneath the bar and poured a shot of amber colored liquid into it. He took the liquid in one gulp and shuddered. "Loretta Nell snuck away during the shoot-out. They found her in the barn. She had the book with her." Aaron poured himself another shot. "She started reading out of it, and my daddy said he snapped. Like a crazy rage. He said him and those other men did things to her, made her die screaming." Aaron stopped speaking and shivered all over. "When she was dead, they knew they could never let anybody see the body. Freddy Stephens suggested they hide Loretta Nell’s remains. He promised to come back later and bury her."

  Aaron quit talking and poured himself a third shot of the strong stuff. He offered the bottle to me, but I shook my head.