The Demon Trappers: Foretold (18 page)

BOOK: The Demon Trappers: Foretold
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Simon put down his hamburger and gave her a worried look. ‘You OK?’

‘I just did a deal with the devil,’ Riley said. When he registered surprise, she shook her head. ‘Not that one. The reporter chick. Justine is going to help us. She knows this
case as well as the cops, but she can’t get to town for a few hours.’

‘Then what do we do while we wait?’ Simon asked.

‘God, I don’t know.’ Riley bowed her head. ‘I feel so useless. If he’s being held captive somewhere, he’ll be counting on me to find him.’
Rescue
him.

Sam’s tanned hand stretched across the table and gently touched hers. ‘Hey, you’re not alone here.’

Riley knew that. But Beck might be.
Or he’s dead.
She had to prepare herself for that moment when everything good in her life ended. When there would be no more Backwoods Boy to
harass. No cocky smile, no more kisses. His will left everything to her: his house, his rabbit, his money, but without Beck there to share it none of that would matter.

The rest of the dinner was quiet, even Sam sensing now was not the time to chatter. When they returned to the motel, Beck’s truck was parked in front of their rooms, a note stuck in the
door saying the keys were in the office. Riley checked in with the front-desk guy to claim those and an extra room key for Simon.

As they headed to their separate rooms, her cellphone rang. ‘Hello?’

‘Miss Blackthorne. This is McGovern at the funeral home. I’m ready on this end so we can hold the service tomorrow morning. That way you don’t have to stay down here any longer
than you need. I’m sure your family is eager to have you back home.’

He’d pushed a
Don’t Go There
button.

‘Beck
is
the closest person I have to family,’ she said hotly. Simon leaned in the doorway now, listening in, caught by her sharp tone. ‘I’m not leaving until I
find him. I’m sure his mom can wait a few days.’

Riley winced at what had just come out of her mouth, but it was true. Sadie was past caring.

McGovern sighed down the phone. ‘This isn’t like Atlanta, Miss Blackthorne. Not everyone wants Denny found,’ he replied. ‘You’d be best to back off or it could get
unpleasant.’

Was that a warning?

‘I’m staying, Mr McGovern. I don’t care how unpleasant you think it’ll get. I’ll find him, one way or another.’

There was a lengthy silence.

‘Well,’ he began, ‘since Denny’s not here, I’ll need to have you review the arrangements for his mother’s funeral. Can you come by the funeral home tonight?
Say about ten?’

‘Tonight?’ That seemed odd.

‘I’m busy right now with funeral arrangements for another family. Come in the back door. I’ll have everything ready.’

I don’t want to do this.

She gave in. ‘OK, I’ll be there.’ Anything to get this guy off her case.

Chapter Sixteen

Despite her misgivings, Riley would have gone to the funeral home on her own, but Simon refused to let that happen.

‘No, I’ll go with you,’ he said. ‘There’s something about this town that makes me nervous.’

‘Like what?’ she asked as she cleaned the seats and steering wheel with hand wipes. The fingerprinting stuff seemed to be everywhere.

‘I don’t know. It’s just . . . wrong in some way. Or maybe it’s me. I’m not real trusting right now.’

‘I know how that goes.’ She pulled out one of the blankets Beck kept in his truck and had Simon spread it over the seat. That was the best they could do until she could find a car
wash.

As they headed into town, Simon fidgeted. That wasn’t his style.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

He seemed startled she’d noticed. ‘Just a lot on my mind.’

She waited him out.

‘I’ve been meeting with a counsellor. He thinks I’m suffering from post traumatic stress disorder.’

‘And you think . . .’

‘It’s more than that. I’m so short tempered. I can go from cool to furious over nothing. Whenever I’m talking to someone, I wonder what their real agenda is.’

Riley slowed to a crawl behind some guy in a battered Chevy. ‘I’ve been second guessing stuff I’ve done.’
Like trusting Ori.

‘You mean like agreeing to Heaven’s deal to save my life?’ Simon asked.

That she hadn’t expected. ‘When I was really, really mad at you, yes. I wondered why I’d bothered. The truth is, I had to do it. You were a nice guy. You deserved to
live.’


Were
. . .’ he said. ‘Not . . .
are
a nice guy.’

His depressed tone worried her. ‘Are you doing OK, I mean, you’re not . . . thinking . . . of . . .’

Simon shook his head. ‘Suicide is a sin and I have enough of those to deal with. I don’t think I’ll ever find peace again, not like I once had.’

Riley halted at a stop sign, knowing he needed support, not condemnation. ‘You will that peace and when you do it’ll be good again. Hell won’t get a second chance at
you.’

‘Maybe. Or perhaps they’ve already won and I don’t know it.’

Riley parked behind the funeral home, as McGovern requested.

‘This guy is driving me nuts,’ she said. ‘He’s making a bigger fuss than he needs to.’

As they exited the truck, Simon’s cellphone rang.

‘It’s my mom,’ he said, glancing at the screen. ‘I better take this. She’s really worried about me right now and if I duck the call she’ll freak.’

‘Say hi to her for me. I’ll be back in a bit.’

The rear entrance led to the funeral home’s garage where the hearse was parked on one side, its back door open. An empty body bag lay next to it.

That’s creepy.

Maybe she should have waited until Simon had finished his call so she wasn’t on her own.

Stop being a wuss.

‘Hello?’ she called out. When there was no reply, Riley continued until she entered a hallway. She passed a couple of doors, but those were closed. Sometimes it was cool to see
behind the curtain, know how things worked. Mortuaries were not included in that list.

Some instinct made her stop and turn. McGovern was behind her, standing in a patch of dimly lit hall.

‘Oh, there you are,’ she said, trying to relax, but failing.

He moved towards her. ‘I’m sorry you had to come here, but I had no choice. Especially when the next of kin has committed suicide.’

The last word hung in the corridor between them.

The hairs on the back of Riley’s neck rose. How did he know about the note or the phone call? Was it small-town gossip or something else?

Beck had come to see this guy right before he disappeared. An undertaker could haul anyone out of town and no one would notice. They’d just assume it was a corpse.

Hello? This is not a horror movie. Get a grip.

‘I’ve got the paperwork here,’ he said, beckoning her closer.

As he moved into the light, she realized he wasn’t holding any papers. Instead, he had a taser and it was pointed directly at her.

‘Hadley,’ Donovan said, standing at the side of the hospital bed. ‘How’s it going?’

Cole frowned back. His breathing tube had been replaced by an oxygen cannula and his colour was better, but he still had more wires and tubes than a space shuttle.

It looked as if the loser was going to live, which was perfect for what Donovan had in mind.

‘Who shot you?’ he asked.

‘Beck,’ he croaked.

What if he’s telling the truth?
Hadley and Denver had a long history of dust-ups. Had it gone one step too far?

The sheriff leaned over the bed in such a way as to ensure Cole saw his face clearly. It was time to get tough.

‘You’re talking bullshit. If Beck had shot you, you’d be dead. So who pulled the trigger? One of the pukes you sell to?’

No reply.

‘Doesn’t matter. The drugs we found in your pocket are your ticket to prison.’

‘What drugs?’ Cole demanded, shocked. ‘I wasn’t carrying.’

That sounded like the truth and opened up a whole new set of possibilities.

‘Oh, but you were. Cocaine. You’re going down, Hadley.’

‘I wasn’t carrying,’ he insisted. Then the patient’s eyes widened. ‘That son of a bitch! He planted those drugs on me.’

‘That sucks,’ Donovan said, trying to keep the grin off his face. ‘Beck doesn’t mess with that kind of stuff, so who set you up?’

Cole’s face was bright red now and his breathing sped up. ‘That bastard McGovern.’

Donovan’s world spun once and then settled down in a new position.
McGovern?
That was the last person he had on his radar. He kept his tone mellow. ‘Why would he do that? Did
you stiff him on a deal?’

‘No, I saw him in Beck’s truck the night Denny went missing.’

‘Where?’

‘North, on the highway. He lives up that way. I was . . .’ He halted in self-preservation.

‘Out making a delivery, no doubt,’ Donovan guessed. ‘When was this?’

‘About ten or so.’

‘You tried to blackmail him, didn’t you?’

Hadley swallowed hard. ‘We just had a friendly talk,’ he muttered.

‘Until he shot you.’ Donovan shook his head. ‘So where is Denver?’

‘In the swamp. McGovern said it was the perfect burial ground. That whoever goes in there never comes back.’

Donovan pounded a fist on the bed rail, startling the man. ‘Damn you, if you’d come to me sooner we might have had a chance to find him alive.’

‘I didn’t have anything to do with that,’ Cole protested.

‘You covered up a crime, and that’s just as bad in the eyes of the law.’

‘I want to do a deal. You hear?’

‘Then start talking, son.’

Riley edged backwards along the hall. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘It’s nothing personal.’

Like that helps.
‘This is what happened to Beck, isn’t it?’

A nod. ‘It had to happen.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he was the best one to take the fall.’

Take the fall for what?
‘People know I’m here.’

‘They might, but come morning they’ll think you headed back to Atlanta.’

He moved closer, forcing Riley to continue her blind retreat. ‘That lie won’t hold.’

‘Just needs to hold long enough for me to get on a plane out of the country.’

She reached a door. Where did it lead?

‘That’s where the bodies are kept,’ McGovern said. ‘There’s no way out.’

He’s lying.
She twisted the knob and bolted for freedom. If she could get outside, she and Simon could escape, go to the sheriff and . . .

To her relief, there was an exit on the other side of the room, leading to the garage. Once she was in the open space, she sprinted for the outside door, about twenty-five feet away. She’d
made it about half that distance when something slammed into her back. Then the pain came and Riley fell forward, her knees, elbows and face kissing the oil-stained concrete.

Had he shot her?

Riley’s muscles twitched and her bones screamed in agony like they were being ripped away from the muscles. She fought to regain her feet, to run, but her body wasn’t cooperating. It
was as if someone had cut all the strings to her limbs.

McGovern stood over her, the taser pointed at her. He had a gun stuck in his waistband and she bet it was Beck’s.

‘You should have left when I told you to,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You had to stay for that damned loser.’

‘Where’s . . . Beck?’ she gasped.

‘Gone. In the swamp. Probably in a demon’s belly. You’ll be joining him soon enough.’ He raised his hand again to deliver another jolt.

Before she could cry out, there was a shout as someone mowed McGovern down. Simon’s lithe figure struggled frantically with her captor, the taser scooting away from them on the concrete.
Simon slammed a fist against the man’s face as McGovern tried to throttle him. As they exchanged a flurry of blows, they rolled into the rear wheel of the hearse, then tumbled back into the
centre of the garage.

McGovern regained his feet and pulled the gun free from his trousers before Simon had a chance to react. He pointed it at Riley.

‘Stay put or she’s dead.’

Her heart nearly stopped. Simon slowly regained his feet, breathing heavily and his eyes filled with unrestrained rage. He was going to go after her captor and get both of them killed.

‘Police! Drop the weapon, McGovern!’ a voice shouted.

Donovan and the two deputies spilled into the room. Martin and Newman fanned out on either side of their boss, their guns drawn. The sheriff’s was out as well.

‘Put the weapon on the ground. Do it!’ Donovan bellowed.

Her captor didn’t move.

‘Now, McGovern! I swear I’ll take you down.’

The undertaker slowly lowered the gun, then bent over and placed it on the garage floor.

‘Step back!’

As he complied, he caught Riley’s eye. ‘Damn you, girl, you should have gone home. Then it would have been all right.’

Chapter Seventeen

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