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Wrong Turn Page 8
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Tanner shone his flashlight up the staircase and turned to me. "You climbed this?"
"It didn’t look that bad in daylight." I gave him a weak shrug and started up the stairs. Tanner kept a firm grip on my arm as though it would keep me from falling through dry-rotted wood.
Then we were back in the room where Loretta Nell first attacked me. My witch pack and summoning supplies were right where I’d left them. I began gathering them as Tanner walked around the room.
"This shit’s creepy. It’s like whoever was here just left." He shined the flashlight on a picture hanging on the wall.
"The guy at the motel, Dwight, said a group of killer hippies lived out here in the early nineteen-seventies. The cops figured out what they were up to, came out here to arrest them, and ended up having to kill them." I zipped up my witch pack and slung it onto my shoulder, ready to go.
"That may be true, but this stuff here is not from the seventies." Tanner shined his flashlight on the nightstand where an electronic telephone base sat. "That’s for a landline phone, but cordless phones like that weren’t sold until way later. I’d say this floral wallpaper is from the nineteen-nineties. Somebody lived here after the killer hippies were killed."
I grunted. "We’re probably about to find out more than we ever wanted to know about this place and what happened out here."
Tanner turned to me and shined the flashlight in my direction. "Why’s that?"
"Summoning Loretta Nell to find the book didn’t work. Scrying for the book didn’t work." I hurried for the rickety stairs.
"Wait up," Tanner called. "You’ll end up tripping in the dark and falling." He caught up and slung his arm around me.
I wanted to lay my head on his shoulder and cry about the day. I didn’t dare. Crying wouldn’t help. I’d save the crying until I knew I’d found the book and was rid of Mohawk for good.
When we were back at our trucks, I said, "I have a room at the motel about ten miles back… Wait a minute. How did you find me?"
"I looked up Devil’s Rest online. Got directions out here. Went to the little guest houses. Nearly got into a fight with some skinny asshole there. Then I went to the Devil’s Slumber Inn where you rented a room." He shrugged and grinned.
Affable Tanner. Nicer than I deserved Tanner. I swallowed hard. No crying. Not now. Maybe not ever again if I didn’t find the stupid book.
"Follow me back there. We’ll unload and do some research." I opened the door to my truck and tossed in my witch pack.
"Now that I found you, I ought to go back there and beat up that little jerk behind the desk." Tanner let out a chuckle.
"What’d Dwight do to you?" I turned back to Tanner, smiling in spite of the dire situation I’d gotten myself into.
"Charged me fifty dollars to tell me where you were and another ten to sell me a map to get out here." Tanner’s husky voice dropped to an angry growl.
I started laughing, unable to help myself. Dwight had himself a regular little cottage industry going. I had to admire his entrepreneurship. Tanner got into his truck and slammed the door on my giggles.
Before I hooked up with Tanner, I just thought I drove fast. Tanner drove like a man running from Hell. He beat me back to the Devil’s Slumber Inn by enough minutes to have started an argument with Dwight.
"I’m not paying you another nickel, you little pissant. Not after what you charged me this afternoon to tell me where my girlfriend was." Tanner leaned into Dwight’s face and jabbed the younger man’s collarbone with one forefinger.
Dwight still wore the same smartass grin he’d had on when I met him. "The rules are the rules, mister. If you’re staying with Miss…"
He gestured at me, eyebrows raised as though asking me my name. And I remembered something odd. Dwight hadn’t asked me to sign a guest register or fill out a guest card. The asshat probably didn’t report cash sales to the government.
I approached the two and crossed my arms over my chest. "I’m out of cash, Dwight. And it sounds like my honey is too. How much extra are you hitting me up for?"
“Twenty extra a night." Dwight took in my dirt-smeared arms and disheveled clothes but didn’t seem surprised.
A little warning bell dinged in the back of my mind, but I ignored it. Tanner had his brows pulled down and his fists clenched. He’d hit Dwight if it came down to it.
Tanner crowded closer to Dwight, his eyes slitted and glittering. "Maybe you can apply the money you already charged me to what you think we owe."
Dwight stood a little taller and glared back. Tanner, a decade older and thirty pounds of muscle heavier, barely reacted. He’d beat Dwight until the younger man begged for mercy.
Dwight, seeming to sense this, slumped. "I guess."
"You guess," Tanner echoed.
I pulled my key out of my pocket and went to unlock my motel room.
"Wait a second," Dwight called after me.
I turned on the sidewalk but didn’t walk back to him.
"I…uh…gave you the wrong room. Number five’s already rented for the night." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.
Tanner snatched it. "Which room?"
"T-t-ten." Dwight pointed across the L-shaped row of rooms. "All the way at the end."
Tanner stomped to my truck and began unloading my things. He brushed past Dwight, knocking into him hard enough to make the younger man stagger, on his way to room ten.
Dwight squirmed. "He’s really pissed, huh?"
I’d seen Tanner’s face as he got my bags. Amused rather than pissed. He’d beat Dwight at his own game and would crow about it all night. I gave Dwight a non-committal shrug. We watched Tanner continue the process of unloading the vehicles. Dwight’s voice, when it came, startled me.
"I’m guessing you had no luck finding Loretta Nell’s book?" He slipped his hands into his pockets.
"Nope. Not a bit." I thought about the way Loretta Nell’s ghost had tricked me, about the blood on the ground outside the house. "How would I find out more about Loretta Nell and what happened to the Messengers?”
“I’ll be glad to help. For a price.” The smirk reappeared on Dwight’s face.
Tanner came back and stood close to me. He lowered his head and stared at Dwight. The younger man tried to ignore the stare but began to twitch as though he had a fire ant crawling on his purple-headed warrior.
"There’s a website called The Message,” Dwight said in a sigh. “It was around way before the Crime Channel did a segment on the Messengers. Matter of fact, they cribbed most of their info from it." Dwight put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet, glancing at Tanner every few seconds.
I took out my phone and opened the notes function. "Is the website just the message dot com?"
Dwight nodded, overly helpful now. "I’ll give you one more Devil’s Rest tip. This one’s free. Get on the ball if you want something more to eat other than convenience store food. They roll up the sidewalks by nine o’clock."
"You recommend anywhere, Dwight?" Tanner poured menace into his voice. He was playing this scene to the hilt.
Dwight squirmed again. "Seeing as you’ve been kicked out of Phil’s, try Roderick’s Bar-Be-Cue. Old Rod hates the Get Out of My Town Brigade. He’ll serve you a good meal." He gave us directions, and we got into Tanner’s truck and left.
Tanner and I drove back to town and found Roderick’s with no problem. They were closing, but a white-haired guy with a red, porous drinker’s nose—probably Roderick himself—offered to fix us two sandwiches to go. We thanked him and sat down to wait.
I took out my phone, saw Roderick’s offered free Wi-Fi, and navigated to the message dot com. A cheesy, dark gray background with graphics made to look like bullet holes that dripped animated blood came up on my screen. Psychedelic rock from the sixties began to play.
Roderick came from behind the counter holding a large, brown paper sack. "Threw in some potato salad and a couple of pieces of our signature pecan pie. On the house."r />
He held the sack out to me and told Tanner how much our supper would be. Women’s lib, and women paying for meals, had obviously not hit Devil’s Rest. Tanner hauled out his wallet and gave Roderick some money. I watched the exchange wordlessly.
Roderick shoved Tanner’s money in his pocket and said, "Heard the music playing on your phone. Y’all wouldn’t happen to be visiting Devil’s Rest because of Loretta Nell Grimes or the Messengers, would you?"
"Might be," I said.
"I ain’t like some of the people in this town who’ll put a boot up your ass just for coming here, but I’ll caution you to be careful. They call this town Devil’s Rest, and that’s an apt name." He stared hard at Tanner, as though it was his responsibility to keep me out of danger.
"Thanks for the warning." Tanner walked to the door and held it open for me.
Tanner rarely held open doors. His California upbringing had taught him a different kind of manners. He was just as polite as any guy I’d been with, more in many ways, but I still teased him about his lack of old-fashioned chivalry. Now I winked as I walked past. He smirked at me and followed me into the parking lot.
As soon as the door closed behind us, a deadbolt clicked home. The parking lot lights turned off a few seconds later. Roderick really had been ready to close shop for the day. Tanner dug in his pocket for the keys to his truck. I walked along, swinging the bag against my legs.
"I wonder how many people Loretta Nell’s ghost has killed out there at that farmhouse," I mused aloud.
"No telling." Tanner unlocked his door, and I went to my side of the truck.
I was going to tell Tanner that I wasn’t sure I could beat Loretta Nell. But then I saw what was waiting for me on my side of the truck. I sucked in a surprised breath. Two of the three jerks I’d confronted when I took the wrong turn at Stephens Ranch crouched low, waiting for us to come back out.
"Hi, bitch. This is for Austin." Chubby rose and drew his hand out of his pocket. It swung through the air and clobbered me on the side of the head before I had time to react.
The fist caught the upper part of my ear. It began to ring immediately. Chubby must’ve had something in his hand because the blow hurt way worse than a hit from a fist. Fiery pain spread. The punch itself jolted my brain hard enough to knock me off balance. I clutched one hand to my hurting head and staggered toward the beat-up sedan parked next to us. The sedan and I connected, and I sprawled backward to sit hard on the parking lot.
Pig-Face closed in. "You put Austin in the hospital. He’s in a comber. Might not live."
He means a coma, I thought stupidly and wondered if Austin and Floppy Hair were one and the same. Considering his absence, I guessed they probably were.
Pig-Face reared back one of his roach stompers to give me a kick. Something hit him from behind. Pig-Face clapped both hands to his butt and sort of howled through his big-nostrilled nose.
Chubby hurried to his injured friend and grabbed Tanner around the waist. Tanner shook him off and gave Pig-Face another kick, this one in the knee. Pig-Face howled for real that time. Chubby froze, eyes wide. Pig-Face gripped his knee, tears streaming from his bug eyes, and went down for the count. Tanner kicked him again, this time in the face, spun around, and punched Chubby in the nose. The man bent over holding his face.
Tanner leaned over me. "You all right?"
I didn’t know right then. The blow to my head still had me dazed.
Chubby recovered and rushed at Tanner, all flailing fists. Tanner hit him again in the nose. Chubby lurched backward, but Pig-Face picked that moment to jump on Tanner’s back.
No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. I tried to get to my feet, but my injured head swam. I staggered back against the beat-up sedan.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. There was something special I could do. What was it? The black opal pulsed on my chest, and a raven cawed in the distance. Orev. Night was Orev’s sleeping time, but he sometimes came to my aid. The black opal pulsed again.
My head cleared a little, and I remembered. I was a witch. And a damn good one, thanks to Mysti Whitebyrd.
I pulled on the mantle, felt the power gathering. But the day had whipped my ass. The energy building was nowhere near as strong as usual.
Pig-Face had one arm hooked around Tanner’s neck. Tanner pulled on the arm with both hands, his face straining with the effort. Chubby, blood streaming from his nose, delivered a punch to Tanner’s midsection. Tanner, his boxing training kicking in, tightened his torso, but his face still contorted from the punch.
I only had power enough to hurt Chubby or Pig-Face, but not both. I picked Pig-Face and imagined fire ants covering his body, stinging and biting and stinging again. Pig-Face, who’d had his eyes squeezed shut with the effort of choking Tanner to death, came to life.
He let go and fell to the ground, slapping at his burning skin. I focused the pain between his legs. He grabbed himself and let out a high, keening squeal. He rolled to his feet, ran across the parking lot, and disappeared into the darkness, still yelling.
A figure came from around the side of the building carrying something long and curved on the end. I doubled up both fists, magic spent, and prepared my body to take a beating. The figure ignored me, stepped up behind Chubby, and swung the object like a teacher swinging a paddle. I got a flash of white hair in the ambient light. Roderick.
Chubby quit pummeling Tanner, stiffened, and arched his back. Roderick reared back his weapon and swung again, hitting the same spot. The weapon made a meaty thud. Chubby yelped. Roderick swung his weapon back again, but Chubby put up one hand.
"No more, Mister Rod." His voice trembled.
"Then you best go home, Jayden." Roderick held the weapon, which I now could see was a crowbar, in position to strike again.
"These folks was trespassing out at the old Stephens Ranch," Chubby whined.
"That ain’t none of your business. Just because you trespass out there all the time don’t make that property your’n." Roderick swung his arm back, ready to let the crowbar fly again. "Now get on out of here."
Chubby climbed into the sedan I’d been leaning against and started it. Tanner dragged me off the hood and got me away from the car. Chubby gunned the car. It shot backward and almost hit the restaurant’s dumpster. He slammed on the brakes, slid to a stop, and sped out of the parking lot.
"Food’s ruined." Roderick stood over the bag. Someone had stepped on it and mashed the contents.
Tanner steadied me against his truck. I stood holding my head while he picked up the bag of ruined food, took it to the dumpster, and tossed it inside. He came back and held out one hand to Roderick.
"Thanks for helping us. I think they were about to whip our asses." Tanner put a little Texas swing on the last three words. He’d been working at imitating the way I said it for a while now. He was close, but I hoped he never really got there. I liked Tanner the way he was. I caught Roderick watching me watch Tanner.
"Two of you didn’t do too bad for one man and a woman against those two thugs. Those boys are mean." Roderick’s teeth flashed blue in the moonlight. "How about y’all come in for a real barbecue supper?" He gestured at his darkened business.
6
Roderick seated Tanner and me at a booth made of rough cut wood and varnished so slick our butts slid on the seats. "What I got’s ribs. There’s beans, potato salad, and coleslaw to go with that. That all sound good?"
"Nom nom nom." Tanner had developed a love for barbecue that went beyond my tolerance of the stuff. I kept expecting my body odor to start smelling like smoked meat.
Roderick hurried off to get the food. Tanner and I spent the minutes he was gone examining our injuries. Both Tanner and I tended to get into fights, so this wasn’t a new practice.
A knot had risen on the side of my head. It was tender when Tanner probed it, but his fingers came away free of blood. Tanner had a few scrapes on his knuckles and a bruise forming on his neck.
Roderick set two plates
of food in front of us and went back into the kitchen. He came back with three longneck beers, which he distributed. I didn’t drink, not even beer, but I figured I’d keep my mouth shut and be a good guest. Besides, a few sips of beer might ease my aching head.
"Two of you act like you get into scrapes on occasion." Roderick took a pull on his beer. His lips popped as he pulled it away.
"She’s got a bad temper," Tanner said in a hushed voice and jerked a thumb at me.
"He just likes to fight." I bit a hunk off one of the ribs. Tender, juicy, with just enough smoke for taste but not so much it made me feel like a fire-breathing dragon.
"How’d those fellas get it in for you?" Roderick drank out of his beer again, glancing between Tanner and me.
I wiped my mouth and hoped I didn’t have bits of food stuck in my teeth. "Aw, I got in a scrape with them when I went out to the Stephens Ranch earlier today. Might’ve hit Pig-Face with my vehicle and made Austin wreck his four-wheel motorcycle."
Roderick chuckled. "That explains it. I’d advise against you going back out to the Stephens Ranch. It’s a good place to stay away from."
"That so?" Tanner barely glanced up from his barbecue.
Roderick nodded. "It’s dangerous out there. Not too long ago, a teenage girl fell outta the second story window. Died right there on the ground in front of the house."
The icy feel of Loretta’s hands on me as she tried to wrestle me out the window came back. Chill bumps rashed over my arms, and I shivered.
Roderick gave me a shrewd nod. "Boy with her swore something with glowing eyes pushed his girl out that window. ’Course the po-lice charged him for doing that very thing, and he got the death penalty. Convicted by a jury of his peers, right here in Devil’s Rest, Texas."
"What do you think happened?" I ate more barbecue, even though Roderick’s story had stolen my appetite. For one thing, not eating would insult him. For another, my magical abilities worked better when I had a full stomach and a good night’s rest.