Dead Voices (55 page)

“I’m just trying to convince you that, whatever it is you’re involved with, if you go any further with it, you’re never going to get out.”

“Do you honestly think I won’t get nailed for what’s happened already? You mean to tell me you didn’t already think I had something to do with killing Barney Fraser?”

“What — you?” A chill tightened Frank’s stomach.

“Yeah — I was there ... and even if I didn’t start the fire at Bishop’s, you don’t think I’ll get connected with it? Shit, man!” He snorted with laughter, tight and high in his chest.

Frank smiled grimly as he bit down hard on his lower lip. “Why the Christ did you —”

“Because both Bishop and Fraser knew too much! ‘Specially Fraser,” Norton replied tightly. “Like you do now, unfortunately. So both of ‘em had to be shut up, just like you’re gonna be shut up.” Pointing with his revolver, he indicated the deserted stretch of road ahead, glanced behind them, and said, “You can pull over right here.”

Frank coasted to a stop, then slipped the shift into park.

“This is
real
fucking stupid,” he said. He was repeating himself for about the tenth time because he knew how much it was getting on Norton’s nerves.

“Well, pardner,” Norton said with measured control, “if I’m so fuckin’ stupid, you must be stupider, ‘cause I got the better of you. Anyway, I can take some reassurance, knowing your miserable ass is buried and rotting out here in the middle of nowhere. Now cut the engine and get the fuck out of the car. “

Frank obliged, leaving the keys in the ignition as he eased the driver’s door open and stepped out onto the road. His shoes made a loud crunching noise on the asphalt. Norton hadn’t told him to tum off the cruiser’s headlights, so he’d left them on and now used the light to scan both sides of the road, looking for the best place to head if he decided to make a run for it. With Norton covering him so well, he doubted he’d make it very far, but he knew he was going to have to at least try.

Norton got out on the passenger’s side and slammed the door shut hard. The sound echoed in the still night like a gunshot, making Frank shiver. He found little\ reassurance in the thought that if you can hear the shot, you’re not dead yet because — so they say — you never hear the one that kills you.

“Come on, man,” Frank said tightly, watching as Norton came around to the front of the car and directed him into the woods with a quick wave of his revolver. “We’ve been partners for too long to fuck things up like this! I’d never blow the whistle on you.”

“Shut the fuck up and get moving,” Norton snarled, seeming to gain confidence with each passing second.

“Then think about Suzie, for Christ’s sake!” Frank pleaded, putting more nervousness and tension into his voice than he truly felt. He had to try any thing —
everything
— to get Norton to lower his guard.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about Suzie,” Norton said tightly. “She’s good at sucking my cock, and that’s about it. Are you gonna move your ass, or do I have to waste you right here?’

Frank hesitated, then stepped out of the glare of the headlights and into the shadowed woods. From far off, he heard the whistling of a whippoorwill. His father had always told him the whippoorwill was a bird of ill omen; for the first time in his life he began to believe it.

Norton stayed by the car, using his gun to track every step Frank took.

“The least you could do before you kill me, you know, is tell me why,” Frank said. He felt as helpless as an animal snared in a trap. He knew that soon, within seconds, maybe, he might be dead on the forest floor, his senseless ears filled with the distant whistle of a whippoorwill as the rolling echo of Norton’s gun faded.

“You’re too fucking close to Graydon,” Norton said. “You’re right fuckin’ on top of him. And don’t bullshit me. I don’t believe for a second you won’t turn me in. You and that Myers bitch are —” He raised the revolver and leveled it squarely at Frank’s head. “You’re expendable.” He took careful aim, braced his wrist, and said, “Sorry ‘bout this, pardner.”

Frank tensed as Norton slowly squeezed the trigger; then he felt a heady rush of relief when he heard only a faint click.

While Norton stood there, looking in amazement at the useless gun in his hand as he clicked it several more times, Frank charged up the slope at him. Lowering his shoulder, he hit Norton just below the belt in a tackle that would have done him proud on the football field. His speed carried them both across the street and out of the glow of headlights. Norton went down, and even before Frank’s full weight landed on top of him, Frank was cocking his fist up in the air. Norton struck the ground, flattened, the wind knocked out of him, just as Frank’s fist descended like thunder, catching Norton squarely on the bridge of the nose. Frank smiled wickedly when he heard another sharp
click
— this time the sound of breaking bone and cartilage in Norton’s nose. Norton howled like an animal in pain.

“You’re one lousy fucking son of a bitch,” Frank snarled, as he shifted his weight onto Norton and pinned him down with both knees.

Norton thrashed wildly, but the pain flooding his body, radiating from his shattered nose, blinded him. It was already too late to resist, but he continued to struggle uselessly.

“You’re also one
careless
son of a bitch,” Frank said. For emphasis, he brought his fist down hard onto Norton’s face a second time, fully enjoying the squishy feel of Norton’s ruined nose. He was panting heavily, but more from excitement than effort as he brought his face up close to Norton’s.

“I checked into Graydon, all right, you miserable motherfucker,” he said heatedly. “I think your biggest mistake was assuming I was just as fucking stupid as you are. Didn’t Harris ever tell you what
assume
makes?”

Frank shook his head and clicked his tongue as though scolding a schoolboy.

“When you missed those few days from work, I figured out you must be in on ... whatever the hell Graydon’s doing. He had to have help from inside because Harris and Lovejoy hadn’t nailed him. They may be dumb, but they’re not that dumb! Then, a couple of days ago, Elizabeth complained to me that she didn’t want me tailing her. Now, I knew damned well I hadn’t been tailing her, but someone had. Coincidentally, it was during those three days you took off from work. It didn’t take much to put it all together. You were following her around and reporting back to Graydon. Am I right? ... I said — am I right?” For emphasis, he gave Norton’s chin a hard jab. Norton’s teeth made a satisfying clicking noise.

“Yeah —” Norton grunted as Frank’s weight crushed down on him. Thick streams of blood ran from his nose and the comers of his mouth and down the sides of his neck. In the moonlight, it looked like spilled ink.

“And I’d even bet good money you were the asshole who spray painted that black-magic symbol on the police station wall, too. I remember that day. You were the only one there who didn’t seem all that surprised about it. Am I
right
again?”

Another punch got another affirmative nod from Norton and made the blood flow more freely.

“Cocky bastard! So once I found out about the connection between the accident that killed Elizabeth’s daughter and Graydon, I was positive you were helping him out, keeping him informed on the investigation, such as it was ... maybe even doing some of his shit work. So you were the one who set the fire at Bishop’s house, huh?”

Norton shook his head in vigorous denial.

“Yeah, sure. But you
did
say you were there when Barney Fraser was killed, right? And I bet Graydon had you dig the grave and bury him.”

Frank punched Norton’s jaw again and smiled at the crunching sound his teeth made. Norton’s eyes glazed with pain as he shook his head in vigorous denial. “I didn’t kill no one,” he sputtered. Bloody spit flew from his mouth and hit Frank in the face.

“Now I don’t know what you and Graydon are up to, digging up corpses and all, but —” He paused to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve; then, using the heel of his hand, he jammed upward on Norton’s nose. Norton yelped with pain and shook as though he’d been electrocuted. “Well, one thing you sure as shit don’t know is that a good cop always checks his revolver before starting his shift. Didn’t you know that?”

Norton’s pain-filled eyes glowed dimly with understanding as to why his revolver hadn’t fired.

“That’s right, fuck-face. Figuring the shit was going to hit the fan sooner or later, I took the liberty of going into your locker and unloading your gun, you stupid fuck!” Satisfied that the fight had gone out of Norton, Frank sat back, sighed, and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I sure am glad you didn’t think to check it.”

Norton tried to say something, but the blood flowing back into his throat made him gag. Frank shifted his weight off him and rolled him onto his stomach, pinning him to the ground. With his face pressed into the forest floor, Norton made soft snuffing sounds as though he was choking on blood and saliva, but Frank truly didn’t care if the man suffocated. After a moment, though, he realized that Norton was laughing.

“You mind telling me what you think is so fucking hilarious?” Frank shouted. He released the handcuffs from his utility belt and roughly pulled Norton’s arms up behind his back. With one quick, practiced motion, he slapped the cuffs onto Norton’s wrists. Not even caring if he dislocated both of Norton’s shoulders, he grabbed him by the elbows and pulled him to his feet, making sure he yanked Norton’s arms as far back as they would go. With a quick kick in the ass, he sent Norton staggering back onto the road. When they got to the cruiser, he slammed his face hard onto the hood.

Between gurgling chuckles, Norton was trying to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was a thick stream of frothy blood. The chuffing sound of his laughter made Frank’s anger flare all the more.

“You didn’t tell me what you think’s so Goddamned funny!” Frank snarled. He pulled back on Norton’s arms, making him wail in pain as he raised him, and then smashed his face down hard enough onto the hood of the cruiser to dent the metal. The sounds of Norton’s agony rose shrilly, echoing in the woods.

“It ... doesn’t ... fucking ... matter ... anymore,” Norton sputtered. A pool of his blood filled the dent in the hood. He looked like a Hollywood vampire who had feasted to satisfaction.

“What?
What
doesn’t matter anymore?” Frank shouted, leaning down close to the helpless man and giving him another sharp jerk on his cuffed arms.

“You ... knowing ... about ... Graydon,” Norton said. He twisted his head to one side, snorted loudly, and tried to spit at Frank. The glob landed with a plop on the hood of the car, beside his head. “‘Cause ... it’s ... already . . too ... late ... “His throat made a loud gagging sound. “She’s ... probably ... already ... dead!”

2.

Strong arms encircled Elizabeth from behind and lifted her. For a flashing instant, .as her feet drifted off the ground, she thought the demon ...

Yes! It has to be a demon! An evil spirit of some kind! This can’t be what Caroline has become!

... was doing this, levitating her somehow; but, glancing over her shoulder, she saw the side of Graydon’s face as he pinioned her arms roughly to her side.

“What the —” she said.

He cut her off with a tight squeeze that forced all of the air from her lungs. Once he seemed assured she would remain silent, he lowered her gently to the ground. The pressure around her chest eased as he drew one arm back, but the other still held her tightly. Any restraint was unnecessary, however, because Elizabeth couldn’t tear her gaze away from the horror that was crouching on top of Caroline’s tombstone. All traces of Caroline’s face were gone. The creature’s cold, unblinking green eyes studied her as it licked the curled tips of its talons.

Elizabeth sensed that Graydon was doing something behind her, but her attention was riveted to the thing that had assumed her daughter’s form. The demon raised its arms high over its head, breathing rapidly in and out, its lungs roaring as they bellowed, continuing to expand.

“That’s not — it can’t be ... it never — was —” she whispered, but that was all she could say. Crashing waves of blackness swept up and over her. Even though she was
positive
her feet were rooted within the safety of the pentagram, she felt tossed and turned, buffeted about as though caught in the sickening whirl of a tornado. Would the pentagram truly protect her, as Graydon had said? she wondered. Why was he holding her? Did he want to prevent her from stepping outside the design ... or did he have other plans?

Graydon whispered something behind her, close to her ear, but it was lost in the steadily rising roar as billows of blackness, keeping time with the monster’s raging breath, tugged at her, threatening to throw her off balance and pull her under.

Elizabeth thrashed her head from side to side, trying to force her gaze away from the beast, but her eyes, like steadily tracking radar, couldn’t pull away from the hypnotically glowing green eyes. In their center, she saw a brilliant red flickering, and Elizabeth knew she was staring into the core of the Inferno.

Again, Graydon said something behind her. She still couldn’t make out his words; it was as if he was still speaking in Latin, mumbling something either to control or — she hoped — send the demon back to where it had come from. A glimmer of understanding rose in her mind when she sensed a quick motion at her side and then saw Graydon’s free hand rise up level to her eyes. In his grip was the gleaming silver blade of the knife she had seen earlier.

“Here,” he rasped. “Take this.”

For a heartbeat, frozen in fear, Elizabeth’s brain commanded her body to move but got no response. She had no idea what Graydon wanted her to do with the knife. Would it give her some kind of control over this demon? Would it give her the ability to command it? Then, with a soul-numbing coldness, she realized that he had lowered the blade and was pointing it toward her chest, directly at her heart.

“Take this!” he commanded, his voice ripping like the wind in her ears. “Use it!”