Grave danger, p.7
Grave Danger, page 7
“Fine, point taken. But let’s keep this quiet for now. I’ll call Lucia and tell her about the grave, but that’s it. We can’t tell anyone else.”
“Yeah, I get it. And I agree.” Ollie looked into the grave again. “But what the fuck is going on?”
CHAPTER SIX
Demetrius’s stomach rumbled impatiently. He dropped to his knees and wiped sweat off his forehead, then adjusted his safety glasses. The lenses had steamed up from the heat of his cramped work area and the sweat of his body. He tried to wipe them on the sleeve of his coveralls, but only smeared dirt across them. Perfect.
Attics were never easy, and this one was pretty much top of the no-fun list. It was tucked under the steeply angled roof of the house, with boxes stacked along the interior wall taking up precious space and forcing him to bend at the waist to keep from bumping his head on the rafters. Dust drifted through the beam of his headlamp, and cobwebs hung in heavy strands like gossamer draperies. At least there was no dressmaker’s dummy standing off in the shadows ready to startle him like in pretty much every horror movie.
His stomach rumbled again. It was time to get back to work and finish this job. He put his safety glasses back on and got to his feet, hunching over to avoid knocking himself out and groaning at the twinge in his lower back. For a simple possum extraction, this job was taking him much longer than he’d anticipated. Setting a trap for the mole in Amelia’s garden had definitely been a cake walk compared to this. As he shuffled forward, he decided it was a good thing Cody had opted not to accompany him. This roof would have forced him to crawl, and he would have griped about it the whole time. That or he would have just stood guard outside the door to keep any rogue possums from gaining access into the main living space, and called in ‘helpful’ instructions the entire time.
God, Demetrius loved that big, frustrating, funny, loud, sexy goofball.
It was definitely for the best Cody and Jugs had taken the raccoon job across town. They’d most likely had more space to work in. But Demetrius was curious about the text Cody had sent a short time ago to let him know the raccoon had been released out by Parson’s Pond, but they would need to go back later to pick up the net. Before Demetrius could even think what to ask, Cody had sent a second text that he needed to ‘run some errands’ before heading back to the office, and maybe they could meet at Margie’s for lunch. The suggestion of Margie’s for lunch was a good one, of course, but Demetrius was curious about Cody’s errands.
He had a feeling he might know what kind of errand Cody needed to run. If he knew his husband at all—and after nearly twenty-five years of friendship plus several years of marriage, he figured he knew him pretty damn well—he suspected Cody might be trying to track down the mayor. And of course he was doing it on his own to try and keep Demetrius safe and out of danger. The entire thing was weighing on Cody, Demetrius could see that. And he could definitely understand why it weighed on him so heavily.
One time years and years ago, Demetrius had hit a deer while driving along Route 118. The damage to his car hadn’t been the worst part of the experience by a long shot. Far more awful had been the suddenness of the deer showing up in front of him. One second the road was clear in the wash of his headlights, and the next he’d been startled by the deer simply appearing. His heart had pounded and his stomach dropped as he’d screamed and hit the brakes. But it was too late.
Some nights, right on the verge of sleep, Demetrius still heard the awful crunch of plastic and the clatter of the deer’s hooves across his windshield.
He’d stopped, of course, and had run back to find the deer thrashing and snorting where it lay half on the shoulder and half on the road. After a call to the police, he’d leaned against the trunk of his car and tried to reassure the deer everything would be better soon as it flailed its legs and thumped its head on the asphalt. When the police officer had arrived, he’d casually put the deer out of its suffering with a bullet to the head, the shot making Demetrius jump and sounding so loud and brutal in the still, quiet night.
So, yes, when Demetrius thought about it, he could definitely understand why Cody would want to go back out and try to find the mayor and prove to himself that everything that had happened had really, truly happened. Because if hitting a deer could have such a lasting impact on him, he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to hit a person. Even one who had been memorialized and buried the week before.
A quiet rustle in the darkness brought his focus back to the job at hand. He decided to proceed on his hands and knees, the long handle of the snare with a loop at the end dragging over the boards behind him. He’d gotten pretty good at dealing with possums over the last few years, and he really wanted to be done with this job and out of the cramped and dusty attic.
Forty minutes later, Demetrius had the possum caged and secured in the back of his truck. He’d secured the loose board in the eaves overhang, removed his coveralls, and dusted the cobwebs and stray bits of insulation from his head. The homeowner, a sour-faced man in his late sixties or early seventies, with dime-sized eyes the color of old pennies and tattered slippers on his feet, had muttered about the cost and how he could have handled it himself if he’d been a few years younger as Demetrius swiped his credit card and turned the tablet for his signature.
“Thank you for calling us to come help you with your critter problem,” Demetrius said. “I’ve secured the access point, so you should be all set.”
“You have a guarantee about that?”
“Sure. If you get another critter from that same access point within thirty days, we’ll do an extraction free of charge.”
“Thirty days isn’t much of a guarantee.”
“It is for a business with three employees.”
The man humphed and retreated inside his house, closing the door firmly behind him.
Ah, the joys of being a small business owner.
Demetrius’s stomach rumbled again as he got into his truck. He took a moment to search the storage compartments for something to tide him over. Half a chocolate chip granola bar, still in its wrapper with the open end folded shut, lay at the bottom of the center console, and he gobbled it down in two bites. It helped, but not much.
During the drive, he dictated a text to Cody letting him know he was heading out to Parson’s Pond. He asked where he’d left the net, and made a point not to ask for details. Cody texted back that it was the usual spot, then sent another text that clarified he hadn’t meant their usual sex spot, but the usual critter release spot. Demetrius chuckled, then rolled his eyes when another text came in and he asked his phone’s virtual assistant to read it, laughing at the nearly monotone female voice saying: “Maybe we should visit our sex spot soon. I’d like to see you spread out before me in the back of my truck, with my tongue in your mouth and my cock balls deep in your ass.”
“Jesus Christ,” Demetrius whispered, adjusting his sudden erection even as he laughed at Cody forcing his phone to talk dirty to him.
Once again, he really loved that tall, gorgeous man-child.
After bumping along Morley’s Trail, the dirt and sand old logging road that circled Parson’s Pond, Demetrius pulled off between a couple of trees and got out of the truck. Before he set the possum free, he walked a good distance into the woods to look for the net Cody had left behind. A bit farther out among the trees than he’d expected, Demetrius saw sunlight glint along the aluminum handle, and he picked up the net. A quick inspection proved the netting was still intact, so he headed back to his truck, holding it over his shoulder like he was a kid carrying a bamboo fishing pole in a Norman Rockwell painting. He was definitely looking forward to Cody’s explanation about why he’d abandoned the net.
He rounded the truck and lowered the tailgate, sliding the net along the bed on the opposite side from where the cage with the possum had been secured in the back corner.
“Okay, little friend, time to check out your new home.” Demetrius was about to get up in the truck’s bed when he stopped and looked at the cage. “What the hell?”
The cage door had swung open, but there was still a critter inside, crouched in the shadows way in the back. Demetrius moved to that side of the truck’s bed and peered into the cage. A white and gray face with a black mask looked back at him.
“Um, hi there, Mr. Raccoon, where’s the possum I brought with me?”
Demetrius looked around but found no sign of the possum. He climbed into the bed of the truck and got on his hands and knees to look into the cage. No sign of the possum in there, just the big raccoon, wringing his hands and blinking back at him.
His phone buzzed. Demetrius sat with his back against the side of the bed and tugged it from his pocket. It was a call from Cody.
“Hi there,” Demetrius said.
“Hey. I’m just pulling up to Margie’s. You almost done?”
“I thought I was, but something weird just happened.”
“Uh oh.”
“No, not that kind of weird. Less terrifying and more just… weird.”
Cody let out a breath. “Well, that’s a nice change. What happened?”
Demetrius told him about the possum turning into a raccoon, and Cody gasped then swore.
“That fucking raccoon! I don’t fucking believe it. He let the possum out and got into the cage himself.”
“What?”
Cody explained about the raccoon he’d caught and tried to release, and Demetrius shifted position to be able to see into the cage at the raccoon staring back at him.
“That’s insane,” Demetrius said once Cody had finished.
“You’ll never get that raccoon out of the cage. Just lock the cage door, start the truck, get it backed out on the road, and leave the engine running. Put the cage out in the woods, open the door, and run like hell back to the truck and drive off without looking back.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Demetrius said.
“Do you want to eat lunch before midnight?”
“This is crazy.”
“I’m telling you,” Cody said. “Do it exactly as I told you or you’ll be out there for hours.”
“Fine.” Demetrius let out a sigh. “Order me an iced tea and a chef’s salad, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Good luck. Oh, I invited Ollie to join us, and he’s invited Dave.”
“Wait, you invited Oliver?”
“Yeah, that’s another long story.”
Demetrius eyed the raccoon inside the cage. “Seems to be the day for long stories.”
“You have no idea. Remember, do everything like I explained, and you’ll get away.”
“I still say this is crazy, but all right.”
“Good luck. I love you.”
“I love you, too. See you soon.”
“I hope so.”
Cody disconnected, and Demetrius shook his head as he stuffed his phone in his pocket. He got down from the truck bed and looked into the cage. The raccoon looked out at him, crouched in the very back.
“All right, big guy, I’m pretty damn hungry, so I’m going to do what Cody told me. Hopefully you and I can both move on from this.”
He closed the cage door then started the truck and backed out onto the trail. Leaving the engine running, he got out and carried the cage off into the trees. After going farther than usual, even farther than where he’d found the net, he set the cage down with the front facing out into the woods. He stood behind it and reached over the top to open the lock and eased the door open slightly. Turning, he ran quickly back to the truck and jumped in. As he drove toward the road, he looked into the mirror and thought he saw a gray and black bundle of fur chasing after him, but the dust from his tires made it impossible to be certain.
When he arrived at Margie’s, Cody’s big smile upon seeing him lit Demetrius up. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of Cody’s reaction to his arrival.
“You got away,” Cody said. “You did that faster than I did.”
“Your directions helped. That was nuts.” Demetrius slid in beside Cody and leaned closer for a quick kiss before smiling across the table at Oliver and Dave. “How are you guys?”
Oliver glanced at Cody before nodding. “We’re good.”
Demetrius looked between them. “Uh oh. What’s happened?”
“Well, a lot has gone on this morning,” Cody said. “And I am going to start by saying that I did not use the zee word before Ollie.”
“Oh, hell. All right, let me use the bathroom and wash up, then we can talk.”
When Demetrius returned to the table, he found his food waiting. After taking a large, grateful bite of his salad, followed by a couple swigs of iced tea, he sat back and gestured between Cody and Oliver.
“So, what happened?”
Cody and Oliver took turns explaining how they’d met up and been attacked in the woods, as well as the discovery of a second grave missing a body.
“Another damn zombie?” Demetrius said, and when Cody shushed him, all four of them looked around to make sure nobody had overheard their conversation so far. “What the hell is going on around here?” He looked at Cody. “And still no sign of the mayor?”
“Nope.”
“Did you tell Lucia?”
Cody snorted. “Yeah. And she told me to fuck off.”
“Do you think she went to check it out?”
“I hope so. But not sure what good that’s going to do us.”
“Dammit.” Demetrius was quiet as he took another bite of salad, lost in thought. “There’s gotta be some kind of explanation for this.”
“Most of the movies blame any zombie uprising on some kind of virus or something,” Dave said.
“Zombies?” Margie stopped on her way past their booth, two plates balanced on each arm. Between the two open buttons of her blouse, Demetrius could see the St. Christopher’s medal she always wore, and which she’d loaned him a few years ago for protection against Nicolae.
The entire diner went silent, and all heads swiveled to look at their booth.
“Um, we’re talking about a video game,” Oliver said, even as a blush gave his cheeks a pink glow. “Something new Dave’s been playing.”
“Oh.” Margie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I thought you were talking about that social media war the cemeteries are having.” She smiled then blew a lock of hair out of her face. “But, I never can tell with these two around. Could be actual zombies.” She tipped her head toward Demetrius and Cody before hurrying off.
Conversations around them slowly resumed, and Dave made a face before whispering, “Sorry.”
“Dude, you need to be more careful,” Cody whispered back. “Lucia will kill me if she even suspects I leaked any of this.”
“Killing you would be kind,” Oliver said. “I think she’d probably neuter you first.”
“Hey, she’s got it out for you, too, Ollie.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Demetrius said in a low voice. “Let’s can the zee word talk for now.”
“What do you think Margie meant about the social media war?” Oliver said, then pulled his phone from his pocket. He tapped the glass and scrolled a bit. His eyes widened, then grew even bigger.
“What?” Cody said. “What’s going on?”
“Where’s Buford Heights Cemetery?” Oliver asked.
“Outside of town,” Demetrius said. “Opposite side of town from Eternal Rest. Buford heights is out near Parson’s Pines where Amelia and your grandmother live.”
“Well, they’ve heard about the bodies going missing at the other place and have started posting ads all over social media.” Oliver placed his phone in the center of the table and they all leaned in.
Want to stay dead and buried? Pre-arrange your funeral at Buford Heights and rest assured you’ll stay at rest.
“Oh my God,” Demetrius said. “That’s really… That’s just not right.”
“Look at all the likes and shares it’s gotten,” Oliver said. “They know what they’re doing.”
“Let’s finish lunch then go back to our office and discuss this further,” Demetrius suggested. “Out of earshot of everyone else in town.”
Before any of them could respond, they heard the blare of car horns right outside the diner, followed by shouts and screams. A loud crashing sound accompanied by the breaking of glass made diners around them cry out in surprise, and the table and bench of their booth shook, rattling their dishes and utensils.
“What the hell was that?” Cody said.
The diners sitting at the front window were kneeling on the benches of their booths and peering out at the street. Others rushed out the door, and Demetrius exchanged a look with Cody before each of them tossed cash onto the table and slid out of the booth.
“Money’s on the table,” Demetrius said to Margie as he passed her.
“Hell with that,” she replied, “I’m coming, too.” He felt her grab hold of the back of his cargo shorts so they didn’t get separated in the crowd.
Outside the diner, they paused on the sidewalk to look up and down the street. A crowd had gathered a couple of blocks away, in front of what looked to be Parson’s Pharmacy. People were rushing in that direction and their group joined the fray, Margie still holding tight to the waistband of Demetrius’s shorts.
Through the crowd, Demetrius caught glimpses of the back end of a large car sitting across the sidewalk. Cody, taller than the rest of them, was craning his neck to see over the heads of the crowd and said in a quiet voice, “Oh fuck, she’s done it this time.”
“Who?” Margie asked. “What’s going on?”
“The Widow.” Cody looked down at Demetrius. “She drove her car into Parson’s Pharmacy.”
“What?” Oliver exclaimed. “Good God. That woman is a fucking disaster. She can’t possibly be allowed to drive after this, right? Lucia’s got to take her license away.”
“That won’t stop her,” Dave said. “She’s been a threat on the roads around town since Cody and I were kids.”
“This fucking town,” Oliver muttered.
By then they’d reached the edge of the crowd, and Cody made a path for them to the front line. Demetrius’s stomach dropped, and he felt a little dizzy when he saw the extent of the damage. JoAnn Monroe, known to Parson’s Hollow residents and those in the surrounding communities as the Widow Monroe, had been married to the fire chief who had passed away over forty years prior. She was in her mid- to late-nineties and stubbornly refused to quit driving her whale of a car, a tan mid-70s Cadillac Sedan de Ville with a white vinyl roof, the front quarter of which was currently lodged inside Parson’s Pharmacy.
