Timeless Moon (20 page)

Rick
paced outside
the small white building that served as the terminal for the Grodin Municipal Airport. Back and forth, until Bruce made an exasperated noise in the back of his throat and went inside rather than watch and feel the unending, panicked guilt that rolled from him in waves.

She wasn't here. She hadn't been here. They'd checked every inch of the airport grounds, including sniffing around the various private hangars. Nothing.

When he'd returned to the motel and discovered the struggle that had occurred
—her room broken into through the bathroom ducts, the scent of a dozen vipers that had touched every surface, and another dozen scenting the grass outside, he'd gone nearly insane.

How could he have doubted her? If this was what her life had become, no wonder she'd hardened. What sort of person would he have become if every dawn brought a new battle, and it was the same people over and over?

Something was obviously wrong. The drive from Pony to Grodin should have taken only a little over an hour. Her car had been gone when he arrived, so
she must be driving. She should have arrived here long before he did, considering that the snakes had gone long before he arrived back. But neither the secretary, nor the airport manager had seen any sign of her. Nor had the man working on the engine of a plane in one of the private hangars.

It wasn't like there was anywhere she could hide here. The airport was a small affair: single 5,005-foot asphalt runway with a parallel taxiway, a few private hangars, and the terminal. They were lucky that the management had fuel available for private jets.

Still, he couldn't fault the place or the people. The little white terminal building was only the size of a one-bedroom house, but it was clean, well-kept, and had modern equipment. The scent of fresh coffee rilled a lounge area packed with vending machines and comfortable furniture.

Rick checked his wristwatch again. It told him that precisely two minutes had passed since the last time he'd looked
—ten minutes since he'd arrived.

Where the hell is she?

"She hasn't been here." Bruce reappeared in the doorway carrying a pair of Styrofoam cups filled with hot black coffee. He passed one over to Rick, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. For just a moment Rick wished Lucas had been able to come with Brace as originally planned. Unfortunately, something had come up. Which left Rick in charge.

"I know." Rick resisted the urge to take out his
aggression on the nearest wall. It wouldn't do any good. Still, it was getting harder and harder to control his aggression. They were only a few days out from the full moon, and he was feeling the effects.

"So." Bruce dug in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a plastic packet of trail mix he'd bought from the vending machine inside. "You're the boss. I'm just the wheel man. What do you want to do?" Setting his coffee cup carefully on a nearby porch railing he pulled the packet open.

Rick took a sip of hot coffee as he pondered his options. Lucas had been unable to come down. Raven wouldn't be here until tomorrow. He and Bruce could stay here and wait, but there wasn't much point to it. If
Josette
only hadn't destroyed her cell phone this morning. Rick stopped himself right there. Indulging in "if only" scenarios was an exercise in futility that would only frustrate him further. Whether
Josette
had car trouble or something more sinister had happened didn't really matter. She wasn't here and the clock was ticking.

Rick drummed his fingers on the side of his cup. "All right. This is what we'll do. You stay here, keep an eye out for her. I'm going to head back to the motel in Pony. If she gets here while I'm gone, call me on the cell to let me know and then take off. We want to get out of here before the weather system hits tomorrow."

"And if she doesn't?" Bruce tore open the bag and
tilted it upward, dropping the fruit and nut mix into his mouth.

"I'll call you with status reports every half hour to let you know what I've found."

Bruce nodded and swallowed the bite in his mouth. "Sounds good. I'll wait outside so I can keep an eye on the plane."

"Good idea." Rick moved past him and grabbed the handle of the terminal door.

Bruce didn't say another word, simply waved the hand holding the snack bag. Rick watched him stroll across the parking lot to where they'd left the plane before and mounted up. It was a straight one-hour drive down the highway. Simple enough that it would almost take effort to get lost. Yet another reason to worry about
Josette.
He drummed his fingers on the handlebars. The wind tugged at his leather jacket, still a little damp from scrubbing off blood and bile. It was still warm, too warm for the heavy jacket really, but it hid the gun and holster he had tucked into the small of his back without making it clumsy and slow to draw. After he saw the condition of her room, he deckled it was time to arm himself. Glancing up he saw that clouds were moving in. Apparently the weather forecast was going astray again
—unless it was
Josette
brewing it up. In either case, it was the kind of thing that would make flying damned tricky, particularly in a small craft. According to Amber,
Josette
"was afraid of flying at the best of times. She'd
be a wreck if they wound up going through heavy weather. He'd try to calm her as much as he could, but there was only so much he could do in the face of a full-blown phobia.

It was a slower drive than he would have liked. Major sections of the highway had been designated "safety zones" and were under construction. Traffic moved at a painful crawl. Still, the slow speed allowed him more than enough of an opportunity to scan the gas stations, rest stops, and road shoulders for stalled or wrecked vehicles.

Nothing. There was no sign of anyone having had any trouble, and he couldn't smell her on the breeze. Rick drummed his hands against the brake lever in an uneven rhythm. Shit, shit,
shit.
Where
was she?
He wished he could drive faster, but it was impossible. With every mile he grew more irritable.

By the time he reached the motel, it was all he could do to pretend the calm he wasn't feeling.

He pulled into the lot of the Shooting Star Motel and looked around. The air was still heavy with mist, not rain yet, although that would probably start soon. Dark clouds hung low and ominous in the sky. He took a deep breath, trying to gather what information he could through his nose. Very few smells remained. The driving rain of the storm, which had apparently already blown through, had washed away nearly everything.

He made a show of stretching slowly and taking a
good look around, then deliberately dropped his keys so that he could squat down close to the ground. He needed a better look to see if what he thought he was seeing in the mud at the edge of the parking lot was actually there.

Those were paw prints on this side of the gully alright, and they were just the right size and shape for a bobcat. And on the far side was clawed ground and loose soil where the bank had given way beneath her.

But more worrisome by far were the other tracks. The prints of male boots, sunk deep into the muck, half-filled with water, didn't cover or erase the obvious tracks of multiple large snakes. They'd been
chasing
her. She'd left on foot, not by car!

His stomach in knots, he forced himself to stroll casually across the parking lot to the office. The feel of the Glock in its holster at the small of his back was a comfort. He didn't want to have to use it, but it felt good having a clip full of silver bullets with him.

Pulling open the office door he was greeted by the ringing of a bell. The cloying sweet smell of roses overwhelmed his nose so that he could scent nothing else. Two dozen long-stemmed red roses in a large crystal vase took up most of the counter space. He had to peer over them to see Ellen. He could smell the older woman who'd checked him in just beyond the next wall, so he kept his voice light and pretended not to know her.

"Good afternoon. The flowers are lovely." He gave
her his best smile, but he could reel her nervousness. Combined with his own nerves, it made him feel as though his skin might start twitching at any moment. But he kept up the charm, even pushing a little emotion the girl's way so she could relax.

"They're not mine. They're for Ms. LaRue. We left a message for her, but she hasn't come to get them yet." She said the words very pointedly and motioned with her eyes. He nodded and moved his fingers as though writing. She got the hint and handed him a pad and pencil without making it obvious. A door in the next room closed, but he couldn't tell if someone had arrived or left.

Rick felt a sudden stab of irrational jealousy over the flowers, even though he knew it was probably the method the snakes had used to find her room number. It took effort to school his expression and voice to sound charming. "Looks like you get to enjoy them for awhile."

In plain block letters, he wrote: "Did
Josette
leave in her car?"

"Oh, and I will." The girl's eyes widened and she struggled to keep the fear from her voice. She did a fine job of making it sound light and friendly. She wrote on the pad in frantic cursive, "No. Men, Mexican accents, hot-wired and stole it. I'm worried."

He nodded as he read but kept up the act. "I'm in Room 104. I'll be checking out. Do I need to sign anything if I pay cash?"

Rick pulled the wallet from his pocket and withdrew a wad of bills. At that very moment the back door to the office opened and Ray Harris stalked in. He smelled of chemicals, greed, and rage.

The girl's panic hit Rick like a blow, so hard that he had to put
h
is hand on the door to steady himself. Her eyes pleaded with him to say nothing. Not hard, he wasn't positive he could speak around the lump her terror had formed in
his
throat

"Where's your mother?" The man loomed over the girl, his expression thunderous.

"I think she just went to go clean a room, Dad. She'll be right back." Her voice took on an irritating whining quality Rick had only ever heard from teenagers who weren't quite bold enough for open defiance.

The man glowered. Rick could see the muscles in his jaw clench, his hands ball into fists.

"What're you starin' at buddy? Does this look like it's any of your business?"

No. It didn't But Rick didn't like the thought of leaving Ellen here. Josie had been right This was only going to get worse. He hoped that Raven arrived soon, because the man was obviously eager for a fight Once Rick was out the door, there would be nothing stopping him from taking his emotions out on the girl cowering behind the desk.

"Daddy, please! He's a guest He's just checking out of 104."

The man's lips pressed into a thin
Une, but
his hands
relaxed, and his scent and emotions both calmed marginally. "Fine. What room is your mom in? I need to talk to her."

"Probably 107. They called earlier asking for more towels."

Rick watched the man turn on his heel and leave the way he had come. When he heard the door slam behind the other man, he turned to the girl, hoping to finish the conversation they'd started. But she stopped him.

"You'd better go quick."

He nodded, but then pulled the deck of cards from his pocket. He'd taken the time at the airport to make copies of mem. He hadn't planned on giving them back, but Ellen didn't need any excuse to get hurt before Raven arrived. "Here. I took these from your room the other night. When you didn't show up here
—" He let the rest drop off when he noticed the nearly dizzying relief from Ellen.

"Oh, thank God! I was afraid I'd lost them and you wouldn't get to see mem. I'll put them somewhere so Dad can
find
them. He'll just think he was drunk and was playing with mem." Her face hardened. "He's drunk most of the time any way. I can't wait until I get my wings. I can feel them, just under my skin. And then I'll be gone
—I'll leave here and never come back. But I'll be fine for the moment Please, go. Find
Josette
and keep her safe. She's been so nice to me. You might check the train stations. One came
by right about the time they were taking her car. I didn't call the police, because I wasn't sure if you guys wanted that."

"Thank you. We
are
sending some people down. They're not the police, but they can help. The first one that will probably arrive is named Raven. He's bigger than me with long dark hair. He rides a motorcycle, too. Talk to him. You can trust him." There was no time to say any more. He left, but he felt like a heel doing it. Something was definitely up here, but he was pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with Josette's disappearance. She'd been right
—the snakes were after her.

As he walked out of the office he heard muffled shouting. It seemed to be coming from room 107.
Big surprise,
Rick thought sourly. He tried to ignore the voices as he crossed the parking lot to his bike, but it was impossible. There were too many emotions beating at him from the people inside that room, all of them powerful and so mixed together that it was impossible to tell where one started and another left off.

"I
told
you not to leave her alone. Not for a minute. The full moon's in a couple of days, damn it! They've sent the stuff via Albuquerque, but if you let her run off somewhere we're liable not to find her until it's too late."

"She's right there in the front office, Ray. It's not like she's going anywhere! Even if you're right
—and I don't think you are—it's going to be fine."

"Oh, so I'm just being stupid. Stupid ol' Ray, can't tell his ass from a hole in the ground."

"I didn't
say
that!" The woman sounded frightened, but had the same streak of defiance as Ellen.