Chapter 25
LIEUTENANT CARSON didn’t know whether to be angry or happy. On the one hand, he was furious with me for, as he termed it, “being a cowboy” and trying to catch the murderer myself. If I’d have just informed the police, he intimated, they’d have had Joshua Satterfield safely locked up. On the other hand he at least now had a suspect they could list as “someone the police want for questioning” in regards to the murders.
When the police arrived at the Satterfield house they found nothing to connect Satterfield with the stripper murders. Actually they found very little. The official statement I gave left out any reference to the supernatural. My private chat with Carson was more complete.
We stood out just in front of the house while I recounted my tale. Carson kept his hands in his pants pockets, nodding and shaking his head at intervals. Inside, a crime team was going over the kitchen. The blood stains in the kitchen interested them greatly. The story the rest of the force got was that I’d simply been nearly run over by a car and had followed up the license plate and checked out the house. When I’d found the blood stains in the kitchen, I’d called the police. I had hoped that they’d find the nibbled body parts in the fridge, but Satterfield had obviously taken those with him.
“So he’s a zombie,” Carson said when I’d finished. “Another fucking zombie.” He glowered at me. “Why is it whenever you’re involved in a case, it turns out to be some fucking monster? Why can’t you just stick to divorce and missing person cases?”
“Actually,” I said, ignoring his tirade, “it isn’t a zombie. Zombies only eat living flesh. This guy took bits with him for consumption later. I’m not really sure what he is.”
Carson rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s one for the books. Something the great Duncan Andrews doesn’t know.” He looked back at the house. We could hear some of the commotion through the open front door. “Well, at least now we have a name and someone to look for. More than what I had before. There’s no way I can link this up with the serial killings, though. Not yet, anyway.”
I nearly felt sorry for the old bastard. I felt sorrier for myself, though. Before they took my statement the cops had a doctor look after my cuts and, while most of them weren’t bad, the wound on my forehead had required three stitches. I’d have preferred to go to Gina and have her work her magic, but time had been of the essence. With Gina, though, I’d be sure there wouldn’t be any permanent scars. Now my forehead would have a line over the left eyebrow for the rest of my days. I could only hope it gave me that rugged, dangerous look.
By the time they finally let me go, I had a headache and was starving. I had missed lunch, and my stomach voiced its concerns. I stopped at the first fast food place I came across and ordered enough for two people. A glance at my watch told me I didn’t have much time before Nick was due at my place, so I rushed home to change. I thought about calling to cancel but decided I needed some supernatural-free moments with a regular human being.
I got home with little time to spare and quickly changed. I chose a pair of black slacks and a blue shirt. Everyone tells me that blue brings out the color of my eyes, which I’ve never understood since my eyes are hazel. I put on a pair of brown loafers as I sat on the edge of my bed. While I finished dressing I made faces at Daisy, who did her best to make them back. I wondered if I could powder the dog or something so that her fur and skin would look less gray and dead. Maybe I could get her some contact lenses for her eyes while I was at it and teach her to blink more. Who was I kidding? It wasn’t possible to hide a zombie dog. Daisy gave up on making faces, sneezed, and trotted out of the bedroom to find a soft spot for a nap.
I felt a slight chill, and Robbie appeared on the bed next to me. He’d dressed for the occasion as well, wearing nearly the same colors as me, although he’d opted for a pale blue tie to go with his shirt. I disliked wearing ties myself, but Robbie looked smart in his. I told him he looked good. “Still, if you’re gussied up for our guest, he can’t see you. Remember?”
Robbie adjusted his tie. “Maybe I want to look good for you. Did you ever consider that? Besides, I think he’ll be able to see me after you tell him about me.”
I stood up, looking over myself to make sure I wasn’t creased anywhere I shouldn’t be. “I’ve already told Nick that I had a boyfriend who died.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean telling him that I’m still around. I think we should.” Robbie noticed for the first time the bandage over my left eye. “What happened to you?”
I briefly filled him in on my adventures that afternoon. When I’d finished he stood up and embraced me. He was concerned enough that I could actually feel some pressure from his hug. He gently kissed my forehead, and it felt like an actual kiss. “I told you to be careful.”
“I was. I used a chair to bust through the window. Not careful would have been either jumping through a plate-glass window and getting sliced like a ham or fumbling with the door and ending up as brunch for Satterfield.”
His fingers brushed the bandage. “Does it hurt? How many stitches?”
“I’ll load up on aspirin here in a minute. Let’s get back to you wanting me to tell Nick about you. You’re actually suggesting that I tell someone I have a ghost boyfriend?”
Robbie made a face. “If you’re going to be friends with this guy, he’s going to have to find out sooner or later. And I have the feeling that once he knows about me, he’ll be able to see me. Just a hunch, but something tells me that’s how it will play out. Where else were you cut?”
“Just some slight cuts on my arms and legs. Nothing bad. Tore my leather jacket, though.”
“The one I bought you for Christmas that last year?” he asked, dismay showing in his eyes.
“That’d be the one. Hell, it lasted ten years. It was time to get a new one.”
“But you loved that jacket!”
It was true. I did. Mainly because it had been a gift from Robbie. Further discussion was forestalled by the buzzing of the doorbell. Glancing at my watch I said, “He’s a little bit early. Must be my irresistible charm.”
Robbie made a face and vanished.
When I opened up the door, with Daisy hovering around my ankles, I found Nick standing there poised to ring the bell again. He smiled sweetly. “I’m a little early. I hope that’s okay.”
I ushered him inside. “Not a problem.”
Daisy checked out the newcomer, her gray snout sniffing at his pant leg. Nick leaned down to pet her. “Hey, girl. How are you doing?” She licked his hand and looked up at him with her bloodshot eyes. Nick, getting a good look at her, nearly jerked his hand away but to give him credit he left it there for her to lick. It did tremble a bit, though. He looked up at me. “Is she sick?”
“In a manner of speaking. Actually, she’s part of the reason I wanted you to come over tonight. Why don’t we sit down?”
We both sat on the couch. Nick suddenly rubbed his arms. “Wow. I just got a chill. Do you have your air conditioning on?”
Robbie appeared on the other end of the couch. Nick glanced briefly in his direction but immediately turned back to me, obviously having seen nothing. Still, he’d had some sort of presentiment that something had been next to him. Maybe Robbie was right and, once the facts had been disclosed, Nick would open his mind enough to be able to see my spectral boyfriend.
I put a hand on Nick’s knee. “This isn’t easy to say.” I took a deep breath. “First off, let me just say that I really like you. I haven’t dated for quite a while, and I have to say I must have been waiting for you. You’re a great guy.”
He looked wary. “Why do I have the feeling that I’m about to hear the phrase ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’”
“No!” I inched closer to him. “No, it’s not that at all. Quite the contrary. Hell, who else would still be putting up with me after all the weird things you’ve probably seen?”
Nick smiled wryly. “Yeah. You do seem to like talking to yourself. And I knew you weren’t talking on a cell phone at the movies the other night. So, what, you’re going to tell me that you’ve recently been released from some sort of clinic?”
“I know a lot of people who think that I belong in one, but no. That’s not it, either. You remember I told you that I had a boyfriend who died in a car accident?”
“Yeah. I’m really sorry about that.” Nick looked concerned but still confused. He was trying to anticipate what I was going to say and couldn’t come up with anything.
I paused, hoping that the right words would come to me. Should I just blurt out that the ghost of my boyfriend was sitting on the couch next to him? I opened my mouth and was stopped by the ringing of the doorbell. I excused myself and went to get it.
I found Tanner Boyd standing out in the hall, looking even worse than he’d been the other day. His hair was uncombed and a tangled mess, and he hadn’t shaved. Desperation showed on his face. “I had to come and see you,” he said, his words coming in a rush. “Something is happening to me. I think she’s back. I think she’s inside me!” He pushed past me to get inside, too upset to notice that I already had company. “I can feel her. You’ve got to do something!”
I looked in his eyes. Sure enough, there was the phantom mist swirling around his pupils. It wasn’t as strong as it had been, but maybe Cindy Boyd was just in there conserving her energy. She didn’t seem, at least for the moment, to be in full possession of Boyd. I patted his shoulder. “Hang on. I’ll call Gina, and she can come over and do an exorcism.”
I didn’t really get the entire sentence out. Suddenly Tanner Boyd’s legs seemed to give out, and he stumbled against the wall. His mouth opened in a silent scream and a stream of blue mist shot out of his throat. As soon as the last of the mist was out of him, Boyd slumped to the floor, unconscious. The mist quickly began to form into a figure right next to me. I saw Nick out of the corner of my eye. He had jumped to his feet, shouting, “Holy shit!” I didn’t know if he could see the forming shape, or if he was just reacting to Boyd’s collapse. Daisy, a few feet away, growled at Cindy Boyd as she rapidly took shape.
She was fast, and she was strong, much stronger than I’d ever known Robbie to be. Maybe, if Tanner Boyd had been right, and she’d been insanely jealous in life, her mental state gave her added power. Regardless, she reached out and took hold of my throat before I had a chance to react. Her hands felt every bit as solid as had Joshua Satterfield’s and were just as efficient at cutting off my air supply. I gasped and tried to fight her, but every time I tried to connect with her my hands went right through. The only part of her that seemed solid was her hands, and I couldn’t budge those. She squeezed harder, her screams of anger echoing in the relatively small room.
The lights went out. She was drawing energy from every available source. Daisy darted forward, teeth bared, but when she went to bite there was nothing for her to lock her jaw onto. I twisted in Cindy’s Boyd’s grasp. I couldn’t see Robbie. Nick was still by the couch, his hands up to his mouth. He was crying out something, but the words weren’t getting through to my brain. Everything seemed to be growing dark, and I wasn’t sure if that was from oxygen starvation or the lights being extinguished.
Cindy Boyd’s face was twisted in fury. She let out another scream and increased the pressure on my neck. I could see Robbie coming up behind her. He’d gone into the kitchen and was holding a cardboard canister of salt in his hands. “Hey!” he shouted.
She turned just as he opened the spout on the carton. Robbie swung, sending a fine spray of salt her way.
“When it rains, it pours, bitch!” Robbie yelled.
The specter’s skin bubbled where the salt made contact. She screamed out an anguished wail before vanishing into thin air. Her howl lingered several seconds, echoing through the room. I fell back and nearly stumbled but managed to grab hold of the back of a chair. I held my throat and tried to suck in as much air as possible. It took a moment before I could get the words out, but I managed to croak, “When it rains, it pours, bitch?”
“It’s the Morton salt motto,” he explained. “Except for the bitch part. See?” He turned the carton so that I could read it. “I thought it had a sort of Bruce-Willis-in-Die-Hard ring to it. The heroes always say something pithy when vanquishing their foes.”
I grimaced. “Yeah, you might want to work on that,” I told Robbie.
A very white-faced Nick threw his hands up in the air. “What the hell,” he asked shakily, “was all that about?”
I first went to the kitchen and got a glass of water. It went down all right, so my throat wasn’t damaged. It was sore as hell, though. Nick followed and stood in the entryway of the kitchen. Robbie was standing right next to him, still holding the salt canister. I smiled. “Nick, this is my dead boyfriend, Robbie. If you can’t see him, at least you’ll be able to see the salt carton hanging in mid-air. My dog is a zombie, and I’ve got a friend that’s a witch.”
“Oh,” he said in a very small voice.
I nodded. “That’s pretty much what I asked you over to tell you. So, what’s new with you?”
HE HAD killed her. Caleb had strangled his beloved Angela.
He hadn’t even realized that he’d grasped her throat. Those minutes spent choking the life out of her were a haze. He vaguely recalled hearing her grunt and struggle as he squeezed, but it seemed more like something that he’d dreamed than an actual event. Her lifeless body at his feet in the dressing room wasn’t a dream, though.
One of the other girls opened the door and saw Caleb standing over Angela. Angela’s eyes were bulged out, and her tongue, purple and swollen, extended from her mouth. The girl screamed. The shrill sound brought Caleb back to consciousness. He pushed past the screaming girl and ran down the hall. He couldn’t think. He just knew he had to get away.
And for the first time in ages, he wanted to taste some flesh.