Wrong Turn

by Catie Rhodes

  "The man who wants me to find the book gave it to me, and he’s not the kind of man you question." I wished fervently for a cigarette but saw no ashtrays in the Pugh house.

  Cheryl Pugh held out one hand to her husband. He hesitated but passed her the picture. Her face stilled at what she saw, and she whispered, "That’s her. That’s Loretta Nell. She could look so normal." She handed the picture back to me.

  "Did you auction off this book?" I asked Jeb.

  He shook his head. "I seen that book only once in my life, and that was the day I took my teenage self out to the ranch to see what all the fuss was about." He glanced at his wife, flushed, and looked down at the shiny surface of the table.

  Cheryl Pugh didn’t seem all that shocked. "Oh, Jeb, who cares? I barely knew you then." She turned to me. "Loretta Nell Grimes flashed herself around town, invited young men out to the ranch. They came back bragging about orgies. Later they complained about catching the clap."

  Tanner snorted. I shook my head at him and caught Cheryl smiling at us.

  "You want to know what made my skin crawl?" She didn’t wait for an answer. "The way Freddy Stephens bought that death trap and dragged his wife and that innocent little baby they’d adopted out there. Then they all died—the whole family. Except that Josie, and she probably killed them."

  The room went quiet except for Tanner crunching on those stupid cookies. The air conditioner kicked on. It seemed to spur Cheryl into talking again.

  "I helped Jeb put on that auction, and I can assure you that book was not one of the items we auctioned off. Most of it was the kind of stuff you’d see at a moving sale." She finished her milk and set the glass aside.

  Jeb snapped his fingers at his wife. "But remember that young man who kept bidding on stuff?"

  "Oh yes. He acted like everything there was a collector’s item." Cheryl spoke to me. "Tell you who it was. Guy who owns the Devil’s Slumber Inn. I know you’ve got to be staying there."

  Dwight. The king of the moneymaking scam. That nasty little troll. He probably sold the stuff to people who couldn’t get enough of the macabre.

  "I see you know who we mean." Jeb laughed. "He didn’t get anything of value. I expect any souvenirs worth having got removed by that lawyer."

  I cocked my head but didn’t ask the obvious question.

  Cheryl spoke in answer. "The house was sealed after the murders. But once they decided not to charge Josie, everything went to her. The aunt who’d taken up custodial care of the girl opted to sell it all and put the money in a trust for Josie. That’s when we got called in."

  "I know just what you’re about to say. Hush up. I want to tell it." Jeb shook one crooked finger at his wife. "The day we showed up for the house to be unsealed so we could prepare for the auction, a lawyer met us there. He said he came to retrieve some property that went to another party named in Freddy Stephens’s will."

  Cheryl took up the story. "That lawyer had a locksmith with him and everything. They went upstairs and opened Freddy’s safe and got some stuff out. I asked him who’d been named in the will, and he wouldn’t tell."

  "He didn’t know who he was dealing with." Jeb smiled at his wife.

  Cheryl patted at the table, smiling. "I knew his secretary. Our daughters were best friends in high school. All I had to do was take her to coffee and ask. She swore me to secrecy, because her boss would know where the leak came from if it got out, but she told."

  I smiled. Nosy little ladies in small towns always had an in. "Who was it?"

  "Aaron Todd. He owns that bar out past…" Cheryl trailed off at the look on my face. "What is it, hon?"

  I turned to Tanner. "I’m going to beat his fucking ass."

  Cheryl’s mouth fell open at the force of my anger. I tried to cover it, but the real me was out of the bag and into the world.

  "He lied to us," I growled at Tanner.

  Tanner stood. "Mr. and Mrs. Pugh, thanks for the midnight snack. It really hit the spot."

  The Pughs, unable to cover their shock at my change in personality, showed us to the door.

  I stopped and spoke to Cheryl. "What did Aaron Todd get from Freddy Stephens’s estate?"

  Cheryl recovered from her shock at my outburst enough to say, "She claimed her boss wouldn’t tell. One of the stipulations of the will."

  I sighed. "Thanks."

  Tanner and I turned to go.

  "Good luck," Jeb Pugh called to our backs as Tanner and I hurried back down the walk.

  We drove out to the Devil’s Dance only to find the parking lot empty and the bar dark. A piece of white paper had been taped to the door. I got out of the truck to read it.

  The page, which had been typed on a computer and printed out, read "Went on an errand. Will reopen at eight p.m."

  I didn’t have to check my phone to know Aaron Todd was running a couple of hours late.

  "He may have left town," Tanner said from behind me.

  "Why?" I didn’t give him a chance to answer. "Let’s check his house."

  We got back in the truck and drove to Aaron’s neat bungalow. Lights blazed through the gaps in the curtains. Tanner parked at the curb, and we hurried to the front door. I doubled up one fist and gave the glass storm door several raps.

  "Open up, Aaron. We need to talk." I listened for movement inside the house and heard none. The sound of a door slamming came from nearby.

  "He’s going out the back door." Tanner took off running toward the back of the house, me on his heels. A chain link fence bordered Aaron Todd’s backyard. Tanner hit the gate running, barely pausing to undo the latch. He left it hanging open.

  We raced into the backyard to find the back door gaping wide, dim light streaming from it. My eyes adjusted to the gloom. A bullet-shaped barbecue pit and a couple of trash cans lurked near the door. Otherwise the yard appeared empty.

  "He must’ve jumped the fence and went into the woods." I wasn’t enthusiastic to explore the greenbelt behind the house.

  Tanner ignored me and took graceful, silent steps toward the back door. He took the last step running and kicked one of the trash cans. Someone grunted. A man-sized shape rose from behind the trash can, shoved Tanner out of his way, and launched himself across the tiny yard.

  Tanner recovered and raced after him. The man vaulted the fence within a few seconds and disappeared into the greenbelt behind the house. Tanner and I hit the fence and climbed over.

  We plowed into the thick growth, trees tearing at our bare arms. The sound of someone crashing through the greenbelt seemed to come from everywhere. Then it stopped. The only sound I heard was my pounding heart and Tanner’s heavy breathing.

  I dug in my pockets and got out the tiny flashlight I used to unlock doors at night. It was such a rinky-dink thing it didn’t even have an on-off switch. A button had to be held down for the light to come on. I pressed it and saw the blood on Tanner’s face.

  "You’re hurt." I leaned in, looking for the wound.

  "Huh?" Tanner touched his face and held out his bloody fingers. He felt around some more. "This isn’t my blood. It was on him."

  I wasn’t so sure and tried to look closer, but he shook me off and took several steps deeper into the woods. He cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, "Aaron Todd, we just want to talk."

  A branch popped nearby. A rock whistled into the clearing and smacked Tanner in the chest. He grunted and put his hand to the spot where it had hit.

  I ran in the direction the rock had come from. "That’s it, Aaron. I’m gonna rip your dick off and make you eat it with soy sauce."

  I didn’t even see the rock coming. It clipped me in the chin and knocked me off balance. I staggered and grabbed on to a tree. A branch snapped, and another rock hit my thigh. Hard enough to elicit a yelp.

  That pissed me off. I ran in the direction the rock must have come from. Gnarled tree limbs tangled in my hair. Cursing my decision to grow it long, I stopped to pull them out.

  Tanner appeared next to me and gently unt
angled the limbs. "Let’s get out of these woods."

  I twisted to face him. "No. He threw rocks at us. Fuck Aaron Todd."

  Tanner leaned so close our cheeks brushed. "I don’t think it’s Aaron."

  "Huh?" I tried to pull away from Tanner, but he wouldn’t let me go.

  "I think Aaron’s dead." His hot breath whispered against my ear. He lowered his whisper to almost nothing. "And whoever’s out here with us killed him." He gave me another tug. "Come on. He knows these woods, and we don’t. He might be five feet away from us right now."

  I swallowed hard and looked around. Darkness obscured any hint of another person nearby. Tanner gave me a light tug, and we crept back through the little copse of trees. I spent the short walk looking over my shoulder. We climbed back over the fence a lot more slowly than before and trudged to the back door. Tanner pulled me to a stop.

  "Don’t go in. If I’m right, Aaron’s body’s in there." He took out his phone. "We need to call the cops."

  Despite the situation, I smiled. "If Cecil heard you say that, he might revoke your membership in Sanctuary."

  Tanner held his phone in one hand, fingers poised to dial. "We need to let them know we had nothing to do with this. That older couple, the Pughs, knew you were pissed when we left their house."

  He had a good point, but I still wasn’t ready to give up precious hours to a police investigation. Especially not a murder investigation. It could keep me from finding the book. Not that I was close. Best I could tell, I wasn’t even in the same country.

  Josie’s face appeared behind my eyes. The last survivor had to die. She'd said he was key. Her use of the word kept coming back to bother me. Something was off about it, but I couldn't figure out what. One thing was for sure. Aaron was likely now dead. If I could figure out why it had been so important for him to die, I might still be able to find the book in time.

  "Come on," I begged Tanner. "If I call the cops, I’m not going to find the book." I peeked inside the open door. Blood spread in a widening pool on the light-colored tile.

  He shoved the phone back in his pocket but didn’t follow. "We’re going to leave traces of ourselves everywhere."

  I nodded my understanding, climbed the steps, and stepped inside, careful to avoid stepping in the blood.

  The kitchen had been remodeled to look old, with mid-century style tile countertops and white cabinets. It was a nice room, if you ignored the smell of raw sewage and the dead body sprawled on the floor like a broken doll.

  Aaron Todd had died on his side, eyes open and one hand reaching toward something visible only to him in his last moments. The killer had etched the word “PIG” on Aaron’s forehead.

  Whoever had thrown rocks at Tanner and me in the woods had cut open Aaron’s stomach and left his guts in a greasy pile in front of him. That explained the smell. Aaron had been de-gutted, same as the bodies nailed to the wall of the Stephens barn in my vision. The killer, who'd been as alive as Tanner or me, had acted in Loretta Nell's stead. Cold spread through my body.

  Loretta Nell had done a good job of erasing every link to the men who killed her. She only had one heir left to go—Josie. What did Loretta Nell have in store for her? That still bothered me. I shook it off and pulled myself into the moment.

  Tanner stepped into the kitchen, got one look at Aaron, and clapped his hand to his mouth. He gagged. I rushed to him and dragged him in front of the sink, careful to keep him out of the blood.

  "If you need to puke, do it here. Neatly." I stood with Tanner at the sink, hand on his shoulder as though he needed my help, but I really didn’t want to look at Aaron Todd.

  Tanner stood in front of the sink, breathing hard, swallowing every few breaths. "We were in the woods with whoever did that."

  He gagged again. This time he lost his milk and cookies. I got a few steps away from him, wondering why I didn’t care enough to vomit. Had I already seen too much? Done too much?

  I forced myself to walk back over to Aaron Todd. This time I searched for the presence of a spirit. My black opal sent a light shock into my chest. I stared into Aaron’s glazed eyes. Ghostly translucent eyelids blinked over his open eyes. I startled.

  Embarrassed heat rushed to my cheeks. What kind of psychic medium witch was I? Not a very tough one for sure. A shadow fell over my face. I glanced up to see Priscilla Herrera watching the scene. She gestured at Aaron.

  She didn’t have to speak. I knew her well enough to understand the message. Don’t be intimidated. Make him talk to you. And she was right.

  I knelt next to Aaron and searched for the power that made me different from most people. The scar tissue covering my power had been worn so thin it now leaked in a half dozen places. I directed the mantle through it, which ached like a wound being stretched open, and let its electric charge flow through me. It opened my second sight. A spot in the middle of my forehead burned as my third eye opened.

  I turned it on Aaron and saw the flirt I’d talked to a few hours earlier. We’d talk now, really talk. I had too much power pushing at his spirit for him to try to fuck around with me.

  "I’m dead." Ghost lips moved over Aaron’s still, dead ones. He tried to smile.

  "You’re dead," I agreed. "You should’ve given me the book."

  He wrinkled his nose. "I never had the book."

  What? I had thought for sure he’d lied to us about having the book. What else could the lawyer Cheryl Pugh mentioned have given him? Before I could insist he tell me, Aaron’s ghost looked down at his mutilated body.

  His see-through features contorted in horror. His spirit form flashed once, then twice. Too many brushes with the truth, and he’d beg to move onto the next plane. I had to get what I could out of him before he did that.

  "If you didn’t have the book, where is it?" I reached out to the spirit with my magic, hoping to hold it just a little longer.

  "The only time I’ve ever seen it is in that picture you showed me," he said, still focused on his corpse.

  "Then what did the murderer want?" I gave a little more forceful pull on the spirit.

  Aaron’s hand reached for his pocket, probably looking for those stupid keys he’d kept playing with in his bar. "Is this all there is? I don’t want to spend eternity like this."

  I slumped. He’d processed his death and was ready to move on. I’d help, of course. Dealing with spirits was my talent. But couldn’t Aaron give me a little more information?

  "I’ll help you cross over," I soothed. "But first, tell me who killed you and why."

  "I don’t know who it was." Aaron rose from his body and stood looking around the room. He pointed in the corner. "Is that real?"

  I stared in the direction of his finger, opening myself fully to the spirit world. A blinding light grew in the corner, getting ready to receive Aaron.

  "Don’t go over there yet," I said. "Tell me who killed you and why."

  "It was a man, but he had on some stupid mask. It doesn’t matter now." Aaron wandered toward the light.

  It did too matter, damn it. I got to my feet and chased after him.

  "Hey, wait. Why did this guy kill you?" At least I could get one good answer out of him.

  Aaron turned back to me. The ghost’s eyes had already darkened with death. He didn’t speak but pointed at his corpse’s head. PIG.

  "Loretta Nell?" Even as I said her name, I knew I was wrong. Loretta Nell was dead. Unless she had control of someone. That wasn’t right either. The only person I knew her to have control of was Josie Stephens, and Josie lived in a mental hospital. The person Tanner and I had chased was twice Josie’s size.

  Aaron’s ghost flickered again. The light in the corner brightened. He reached one translucent hand into his pocket but came up empty.

  "You want your keys?" If it made the ghost stay a little longer, I could dig in a corpse’s pockets.

  Aaron’s ghost nodded.

  I went back to the corpse and tried the pocket he wasn’t lying on. A condom. A wadded receipt. No key
s. Cringing with revulsion, I rolled the corpse. The blood-soaked shirt made a sticky sucking sound as it separated from the floor. The corpse flopped onto its back. I gagged but forced myself to reach into the other jeans pocket. Another condom. Aaron had believed in being prepared. I dug around some more. Empty.

  I turned to find Aaron standing right in front of the light. He was ready. If I held him too much longer, the opportunity would pass and I’d have to tap serious magic to get him across the veil.

  I went to stand next to him. "Your killer took the keys, didn’t he?"

  The ghost turned to me and said something, but no sound came out. His ability to speak was leaving along with the magical spark of life all of us held for one brilliant season.

  "Just nod if I’m right." I let my magic pull on Aaron’s spirit again. He nodded. I had a million more questions for Aaron, but there was no point asking them. He was ready to go, and it was time. I broke the magical connection between us and said, "I don’t think it hurts. You just start walking, and it takes you."

  The ghost turned back to me. His eyes were completely gone, replaced by black holes. His ruddy skin had turned the color of oatmeal. He raised one arm and pointed at the wall next to me. His lips moved again. I shook my head.

  "It’s fine, Aaron. Thanks for your help." I motioned at the white light. "Go on."

  Aaron’s ghost took an uncertain step into the glow, and it flowed over him. He took another step and turned back to me.

  "Go on. It’s fine," I told him.

  He did as I said, and the glow took him over, erased what he’d been, and winked out. I stared at the empty spot. Would the light come for me after I’d breathed my last? Or would it be the darkness? I might have a chance to find out sooner rather than later.

  12

  Tanner joined me to stare at the wall. "That womanizing prick tell you anything worth knowing?"

  I bit back a laugh and faced him. Tanner had splashed water over his face. Beads stood out on his dark skin, still an ashy gray, and dampened his hair. The light would surely come for my sweetie. Even speaking ill of the dead, he was too nice for anything else.