Shoot to thrill, p.32
Shoot to Thrill, page 32
part #5 of Midnight Rider Series
Jo looked sympathetic and patted my arm. “I love you, Bane. And you know that I’d do anything for you. But, I won’t do that.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because Rosetta scares the shit out of me,” Jo said.
“You’ve never met her!”
“I’ve heard enough from you to know that you don’t mess with her.” She picked the phone out from between my thighs where it had landed and flipped it open. She held it out to me with a grin. “Hey, batter batter.”
I dialed Rosetta’s cell phone and waited while it rang.
“Bane,” Rosetta practically roared into the phone. I felt myself grimace and Jo’s fingers starting to draw lazy circles on my thigh. I took a breath.
“Hiya, Rosetta, how’s the…”
“How’s nothing,” Rosetta spat. “Where the hell are you all? We’ve been sitting under the one tree in this podunk, shitty, half-a-horse town for over an hour.”
“Apparently it’s ‘the back half of the horse’ of a town,” I muttered.
“Hang up your sass before I hang you up with it,” she growled. I was used to Rosetta not being a morning person, but this seemed a little extreme, even for her.
“What’s rubbing you raw this morning, Rosetta?” I asked, muscling us around a corner and searching for Rosetta’s pink Cadillac and any tree that she might be parked under.
“This lotion shit that Hattie gave us. Said if we were going to be around Jo, we needed to wear it. It burns and....”
“And?” I asked.
“It’s PISSING ME OFF!” Rosetta yelled into the phone.
I jerked the phone away from my ear, but it was about as useful as closing the barn door after the horses had run off.
“There they are,” Noah said, pointing out his window. There was an empty lot with perfectly manicured grass and a single bench set into concrete under a single tree. Garnett’s City Park, apparently. I could see Rosetta from here. Standing on the sidewalk, her gray hair in a bun, pink Lolita sunglasses on her nose and holding her cell phone like it was a grenade that she was about to pull the pin on, probably with her teeth, and toss in my direction.
I sighed. “Well, this is going to be a fun hunt.”
Five minutes later, Gabe’s Triumph and the yellow Jeep had joined us under the tree. Jo and I were explaining about the demons that had wanted to take Jo and use her for an occlusion spell while five very cranky hunters, a nonplussed Noah, and a grinning Gabe looked on.
“So, you’re telling me,” Rosetta said when we paused in our explanation, “that we are here on a hunt that Walter couldn’t see, an entranced demon told a siren about under duress and the only lead we have to work off of is a brochure to a small-town attraction that’s been fused together with ass fat. Is that what you’re telling me, Bane?”
“Well...yeah,” I said.
Everyone was quiet for a minute.
“Ok, then,” Rosetta said. She grinned and I felt a cold shiver go down my spine. She had been red-faced screaming only a few minutes ago. Now she sounded like I’d just offered her a glass of cold lemonade and a foot rub. What the hell? I looked at Jo to silently ask her if she’d been doing some bartering. She shook her head, eyes wide.
“It’s the lotion,” Gabe muttered from behind me. At the end of our explanation, he’d moved around us to get to his bike for something, and now I could feel his warm breath on the back of my ear. “Severe mood swings. I know it has more of an effect on older users.”
I nodded and turned back to the group at large, trying to ignore the tingling Gabe’s breath in my ear had had on me and ignore the knowing look Jo was sending in my direction. “Ok, since we all look like hunters rather than regular podunk museum enthusiasts with all these vehicles, I think we should take as few vehicles over to the museum as possible. We should go in groups so we don’t seem like we’re casing the joint. Does everyone have an E.M.F. reader? A working E.M.F. reader?”
“I’ve got one,” Vince said.
“Me too,” Gabe said.
“And there’s on in Lucy’s toolbox,” I said.
Noah rolled his eyes. “I thought you said working E.M.F.”
“It works,” I muttered. “I don’t care how pretty it is.” I turned back to the rest of the crew. “So three teams.” I looked around at everyone, trying to figure out the best way to divide them up.
“I’m going with Jo and Bane,” Rosetta said, her tone daring anyone, including Jo and me, to argue with her.
Tags, Stacks, and Noah decided to team up which left Gabe with Vince and Mick.
“Don’t you think Gabe should go with team ‘Nose hair and elbows’?” I muttered to Rosetta, nodding at Tags, Stacks, and Noah. “It does seem a little unfair to have all the brawn on one team and leave them kind of defenseless.”
Rosetta raised an eyebrow at me. “You don’t think Taggert can keep an eye on two bean-pole boys in a two-room museum?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “You’re right. You’re right. It’ll probably be fine.”
Rosetta, Jo, and I were the first ones to pull into the lot at the museum. There were four other cars and a woman in a purple pantsuit was busy at the front doors stretching a banner over the doorway. As we walked up the sidewalk, the ladder she was on shook and I jogged forward to steady it.
“Oh thank you,” the woman said, gripping the top of the ladder with one hand and the vinyl banner with the other. She gave me a tired smile. “I was supposed to have help this morning, but the others came in early and they took off to Toledo to picket.”
“Picket?” I asked.
“Protest,” the woman said. I opened my mouth to ask what they were protesting, but she had turned back around on the ladder to hang the banner. “Of course, we can’t hire any more people right now with the freeze on. And I know we’re a small link in the state’s historical preservation,” she glanced down at me and glared as if I’d made a crack about how small they were. “But we’re important. Garnett is one of the oldest remaining settlements in the state. And unlike the big cities,” she made a face as if she was about to cough something out of her lung and spit it on the ground, “our history is still on display. It’s not buried under layers of concrete or bull-dozed for steel and glass structures.”
Wow.
I glanced up at the banner, hoping to find something that might be able to distract her away from her rants about under-appreciated museums. The banner said, “Garnett Historical Society, Make History Your Summer Journey”. Not a lot I could do with that.
“It’s a lovely banner,” I said. She beamed at me. Well, apparently it was a step in the right direction.
She finished tying the banner off and came down the ladder. “Thank you, it was my slogan. I was so excited that the other two board members chose it. I really do think Garnett has a special history. You know, we have a pair of Thomas Edison’s shoes and one of the cash registers from the first run, mass-produced, that James Ritty originally invented…”
I started a silent prayer to the cosmos that neither of these items would be the ones we had to burn. I really didn’t need the wrath of a historian with a museum that had some kind of importance complex, joining the parade of weird shit that wanted to kill me.
“We’re here for the day, just sight-seeing,” I said to her, motioning to Rosetta and Jo. “Is the museum open?”
The woman nodded. “It most certainly is. Please, come in.”
Rosetta and Jo were the first inside and after I helped the woman fold up the ladder, we carried it in, following them.
“Oh, Joyce!” a young woman called to us when we came through the doors. The woman in the purple pantsuit turned to look at her. “Let me get that.” The young woman came to help us with the ladder. “There’s a phone call for you. Bucky Forester says he found a steamer trunk full of papers in his mother’s attic and wonders when you could take a look at them.”
“Oh! I better take that.” Joyce said. “Enjoy your journey through history,” she called back to me as she headed over to a room marked, OFFICE.
“Thanks for helping Joyce,” the young woman said. “And helping with the ladder. It goes just over here.” She and I carried it to a supply closet and with a minimal amount of awkwardness and finger-pinching, we got it inside.
I heard a phone ringing somewhere in the building and the girl took off. “Sorry! Gotta catch that. It’s just Joyce and me today.”
“Kind of busy for a small town display of old shoes and creepy dolls,” Rosetta muttered behind me. I turned to see her nodding at a display cabinet nearby. Old dresses and dolls and hand-made shoes. I unzipped the pink fanny pack and I saw the self-satisfied smile on Rosetta’s face.
“Yes, it’s very useful,” I said to her, patting the fanny pack. I pulled out my E.M.F. reader and stuck the one earbud in. I flipped it on and listened to the low buzz. Nothing in this room. I started making the rounds. The others had arrived and I bumped into Vince who was doing the same thing. His E.M.F. was professional-grade with a cordless earpiece. Gabe’s looked like a cell phone. I saw them each smirk at my reader and me as I went by. Whatever. It still gets the job done. We’d been at the museum for an hour and so far, we had nothing. I had a bad feeling that I’d dragged us on a pointless lead, and now, the demons were already looking for another supernatural to use for whatever hootenanny they were cooking up.
I’d just finished scanning the last case when the front door opened again and three women in suits came in.
“Hey! Back so soon?” the young girl from earlier asked, coming out of the office. “I thought you’d be in Toledo protesting the rest of the day.”
“Forgot about a meeting,” one of the women said with a smile. She had a strawberry-blonde braid down her back and her face around the smile looked tense.
The young girl looked at the two women beside the blonde, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Callie Norton, I usually do the site visits for requisitions and...”
“These ladies are from the Toledo Historical Society,” the blonde interrupted. “I forgot that I’d scheduled a meeting with them here to show them the Murdock exhibits. That’s why I came back.”
“We think we might be able to help your cause,” a second woman said. She was shorter, curvier and she had a kind face. The woman beside her was dark-haired and she nodded quickly.
“But they’re starting demolition this week,” Callie said. “We need to get the petition and the word out or…”
The strawberry-blonde put a hand on Callie’s shoulder. “We’re heading right back to Toledo after our meeting.” The three women passed her, heading into the office. After a moment, she turned and followed them. I started to follow her to ask what was going on. If something was being destroyed, that could definitely stir up spirits, if they were haunting the place. It was definitely not something that would be strong enough to tempt demons to host their Olympics there or anything, but like the brochure, it would be somewhere to start.
There was a bulletin board mounted on the wall next to the office door and in strips of printer paper, the words, “Save the Murdock Orphanage” had been spelled out. Below the words, there was a picture of a two-story dilapidated house that I’d place as being built somewhere in the 1800s. Someone had tacked a yellow mailing envelope full of tri-fold brochures next to the picture. I pulled one out. The ass fat brochure. At the bottom of the bulletin board, the words “Protest the destruction of this beautiful historical building. Protest Shady Lane Developments” were crammed together.
Callie came out of the office, looking down at her cell phone.
“Excuse me,” I said. She looked up and quickly adjusted her face from worry to professionally cheery. “What can you tell me about this place?” I asked, pointing to the picture.
“Oh, that’s the old Murdock Orphanage. It’s a beautiful old house. The Murdocks were farmers and they started taking in children that had lost their parents or were abandoned. Eventually, the county was able to give them some money to keep housing and caring for orphans. Sadly, one winter, the flue on the fireplace in the main room where all the children were sleeping was accidentally closed and all the children died of carbon monoxide poisoning in their sleep.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “Well, I can see why you’d want to save it.”
She shook her head. “I know it sounds a little morbid, but it’s a landmark. It should be a historical building, preserved for future generations. It’s one of the last pre-1900s structures in the area.”
I looked down at the brochure in my hand. “And this Shady Lane Development company bought the property?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “And they’re going to start demolishing this,” she turned to look back at the bulletin board, “beautiful relic, at the end of the week. That’s why we were trying to protest, get a petition signed, all of it. Anything to stop them…” Her voice trailed off and she looked defeated. She perked back up and pointed to the podium next to the bulletin board. “You could sign our petition if you believe it’s a structure worth saving.” She was watching me with big, hopeful eyes, so I nodded.
“Of course,” I moved over the podium and added one of my usual aliases to the end of the very short list of petition signers. The phone rang in the office again and Callie turned and headed back in.
I turned and Gabe was the first person that I saw. I hustled over to him and handed him the brochure.
“Murdock Orphanage,” Gabe said, opening it up to the middle fold. He looked up at me. “And this is important?”
“What’s going on?” Jo and Rosetta had come over to join us and when Vince and Mick had realized Gabe wasn’t still walking with them, they came over and joined us as well.
“This is the brochure Demon Original Recipe had on him when he ashed out in Jo’s apartment,” I said. “And,” I dug in my back pocket and came out with the crumpled business card, “Shady Lane Developments is apparently the big bad behind this building’s destruction.”
“And so the demons are now real estate agents bulldozing some old house?” Vince asked.
“An old house where a bunch of kids died in an accident,” I said. I saw a wave of realization beginning to dawn on the faces around me.
“So the house may have some restless spirits that they’re going to rile up,” Rosetta said. I saw Tags, Stacks, and Noah leaning in around Vince and MIck.
“But why?” Gabe asked. “You’ve told us that human restless spirits and hauntings aren’t worth much if anything to Hell.”
I nodded. “Exactly, so is there something else out there? Or is there some kind of ritual they would be doing, using all those restless souls?”
Tags cleared his throat and looked over my head. I turned to look behind me and I saw the three women in black pantsuits looking at us, curious expressions on their faces.
“I was just telling them about the Murdock Orphanage and that they needed to sign the petition to save it,” I said quickly. The three women’s expressions turned to soft smiles. The strawberry-blonde nodded and pointed to the podium. “The more signatures, the better chance we have.”
I felt a shiver run down my spine. Something about the way she’d said that felt off. I gave myself an internal shake. Paranoia. That’s all it was. Seeing too many demons in shadows and conspiracy at every turn. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to turn into Stacks.
“Get a brochure,” I muttered as the group started to disperse. “There’s a map of where the house is on the back. Meet back at the single-tree park.”
“Where’s the ladies room?” Rosetta asked one of the women in pantsuits. She pointed and Jo and I followed Rosetta down the hall. Rosetta and Jo actually had to go. I had just wanted to get away from the strawberry-blonde and what she’d said about signatures. I splashed some cold water on my face. I doubted very much that they were trying to turn the orphanage into another New Covenant out in the woods. And the pen to sign the petition had been plastic with blue ink. They weren’t collecting blood oaths with the petition to save it.
“So what kind of ritual would demons use restless souls for?” Jo asked from inside her stall. The bathroom was fairly small. The third stall was empty, so I felt reasonably safe enough to talk.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never heard of any. Rosetta, have you?”
“I know you’re going to find this hard to believe,” Rosetta muttered, and I heard the snap of her support garments under her dress. “But until you blew into my quiet life like a Kansas twister, Bane, I hadn’t dealt with demons that much. I think Stacks and Tags are going to be your best bet in finding out what this is. Maybe Gabe.”
The bathroom door swung inward and I cleared my throat to let Jo and Rosetta know to stop talking.
It was the three women in pantsuits. The one with dark hair was the last inside and she stood in front of the closed door.
The strawberry-blonde went to the sink next to me and began touching up her make-up, clumsily.
“Oh, don’t stop your think tank meeting on our account,” she said. She smiled at me in her reflection and I saw her eyes glow red.
“Demons,” I called to Jo and Rosetta. Then, chaos. I reached back to grab the sword, but the strawberry-blonde had flicked her finger and I was thrown backward into the last empty stall. I was struggling to suck in the air that had been knocked out of me when I heard shouts from Jo and Rosetta and growls from the three demons. I dragged myself forward, one foot going into the toilet as I came down off the wall and struggled toward the stall door. When I could see out of it, my heart froze in my chest. The strawberry-blonde demon had Jo pinned against a wall and the dark-haired and curvy demons were advancing on Rosetta. She was only armed with a purse.
I reached back and pulled the hilt of the sword, feeling the weight transfer from my back to my limbs. The small release of exhaustive pressure on me from the sword being stored between worlds gave me back something like a second wind. I two-handed it and stumbled forward. The blade went cleanly through dark-haired demon’s back. She screamed and began to smoke. The curvy demon turned to look at me in horror and then she let out a scream of her own and collapsed to the floor, face first. She was convulsing and beginning to liquify. I saw a Solomon Spice stake sticking out of the demon’s back. I looked over at Rosetta and saw that her purse was hanging open.
