Ghoul Interrupted (33 page)

I shook my head. I had no idea.

Heath opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment his cell rang. He answered it and the noise from the receiver was loud enough to reach my ears. Immediately I knew something terrible had happened.
“Whose house?”
Heath practically shouted. And then, most upsetting of all, he said not another word; he simply tossed aside his cell and floored the accelerator.

The Durango surged forward and I held on tight. Heath drove at crazy speeds, weaving in and out of traffic, and I didn’t dare ask him to slow down or even distract him with a question like, “What happened?” I figured I’d find out soon enough.

We reached the Pueblo within fifteen minutes and Heath barely slowed down enough to make the turn into the drive without tipping us over. I kept my eyes closed and my hand gripped on to the overhead assist handle for most of the rest of the drive.

Finally we arrived at the center of town, and Heath bypassed the row of White feather houses and aimed his car farther down the street toward the end, where one lone house stood and a crowd had gathered.

He and I both saw the ambulance at the same time. “Who is it?” I gasped. “Who’s been hurt, Heath?”

“Rex,” he replied through gritted teeth.

He punched hard on the brakes and we skidded to a stop. Heath was out the door faster than I thought possible, and as I hurried to catch up, I saw him weaving through the onlookers like he’d done through the traffic to get here. I knew whom he was searching for, and my eyes darted every which way too, looking for Mrs. Lujan.

I didn’t see her, and apparently neither did Heath. Meanwhile, Cruz hovered in Rex’s doorway arguing with Vernon, while Ari stood nearby, hugging herself as tears streamed down her cheeks. No one seemed to notice me; all eyes were looking forward to the house and to the ambulance, which was just starting to pull away. In the window I caught a glimpse of Brody’s profile while he hovered over his patient. At this point, I didn’t know if it was Rex or someone else who might’ve been in the house with him.

Anxious for details and knowing I wasn’t likely to get them hanging around with the tribe, I moved away from the throng and over to the side of the house, slipping easily through the back gate and moving into the backyard.

There was a high fence surrounding Rex’s backyard—no one was likely to see me. I heard a noise from the corner of the scrubby lawn and spotted something moving inside a large doghouse. I eased over slowly and carefully, and found a quivering old hound curled up in the corner. “Oh, man,” I said, squatting down so I could be level with it. “You poor thing! You must’ve been scared to death!”

The hound eyed me with droopy eyes and a pathetically frightened face. I looked at its dog bowls—both food and water were empty.

Picking them up, I headed toward the house. I saw the talon marks well before I got to the torn screen on the back door. The demon had entered easily here. And judging by the interior of the place, it’d had one hell of a party.

As I surveyed the interior, I admit that I braced myself for any sign of blood. With some relief I registered that there didn’t appear to be any. I followed the trail of the carnage, and it led me across the living room to the stairs, then up to the landing and down a short hallway to a door, which had been partially opened.

The exterior of the door seemed to be down to splinters and it hung loosely on its hinges. Inside the bedroom, I could see that the door had been barricaded from the inside, as if all the bedroom furniture, including the bed frame, had been shoved up against it.

How the paramedics had gotten past the barrier to reach Rex was a mystery. I was still in the hallway, clutching the dog bowls, when I heard voices down below. I held perfectly still until the voices approached the stairs. Being careful not to make a sound, I squeezed in through the opening to the bedroom, and cast around with my eyes for a place to hide. Meanwhile, the voices grew closer and at the last second I darted into the adjoining bathroom and hid behind the shower curtain in the bathtub.

Barely daring to breathe, I waited while the two voices that I’d identified as Pena’s and Cruz’s came up the stairs, down the hall, and into the bedroom. Pena gave a long low whistle from just ten feet away. “What the hell was he up against in here, Jimmy?”

“It’s got to be the same punks that attacked the station, Nick.”

There was a pause. “You really believe that?” Pena asked.

“What?”

“That all this was done by a bunch of punks?”

“What other explanation is there, Sheriff? I mean, I know you got a soft spot for Heath Whitefeather and that girlfriend of his, but come on, no ghost did this!”

“What about what happened at Milton’s lodge?”

“Well, if it was the same punks, then that was murder, Nick. Which is what I been telling you. Something don’t add up about that hunting lodge, and I ain’t talking about ghosts and goblins. I think some
one
killed Milton. Not some
thing.”

Pena sighed audibly. “You don’t believe the legend of the black hawk turning into a demon and wanting revenge against the sky spirit?”

Cruz’s mocking laughter echoed against the walls of the bathroom. “Oh, come on, Nick! Do
you
really believe it?”

Another pause, then, “You know, Jimmy, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Cruz snorted. “Well, if you’d listened to me, we could’ve held those two trespassers and gotten the truth out of them sooner or later. They’re holding something back, Nick. I swear they are. They know more than they’re saying about all this.”

“They couldn’t have had anything to do with Milton’s death, Jimmy,” Pena argued. “I checked. They were all out of the country when he died.”

“Well, we’ll ask old Rex about all this when he wakes up. If he makes it, that is.”

I grimaced. I didn’t much care for the deputy.

“What’d Brody say?” Pena asked.

“He said that Rex must’ve had a heart attack brought on by either pushing the furniture around or from fright—maybe both. He looked pretty bad when we found him. Brody thinks he’ll make it to the hospital, and he’ll probably need surgery, so it still could go either way.”

“Who called you?”

“Brody. Said his wife couldn’t reach her uncle on the phone after Rex was late for breakfast, so she sent the doc over to make sure he was okay. When he walked in the front door, he saw the place was a wreck and came and got me. I called you as soon as we got to Rex. Where were you anyway?”

“Had a dentist appointment in town,” Pena said. My brows shot up at the bald-faced lie. I’d just seen him at Trudy’s trailer park.

“That tooth still giving you trouble?”

“It is,” Pena said, and there were some shuffling noises as the two moved their conversation out of the bedroom. Their voices quickly became muffled and I couldn’t make out a thing they said next, but I sat there for a while, really troubled about why Pena had lied to Cruz. I was sure that Dunlap had filled Pena in on what’d taken place at Trudy’s trailer—why not tell Cruz and offer it as further proof about what they were really up against?

Still, I reasoned, maybe Pena had had enough of his deputy’s derision. I know I certainly had. I waited a bit longer, huddled in the bathtub, until I was certain Cruz and Pena were back outside, and then I slowly and carefully got up and headed back out into the hallway, careful not to touch a single thing.

Making my way quickly downstairs, I ducked into the kitchen, filled the dog bowls up with food I found under the cabinet and water from the sink, then hurried back outside and left them for the poor hound still huddled in its doghouse.

I wanted to stay and try to comfort the old coot, but decided that as a stranger I might be making the dog even more anxious, so I left it alone and moved out of the yard.

Slipping back out the gate, I managed to spot Ari, Heath, and thankfully Heath’s mother all hovering together away from the others. Ari was still crying and Mrs. Lujan looked terribly worried. I moved over to slide into the space next to Heath and he looked at me with some surprise. “Where’d you go?”

“I heard a dog barking in back,” I said, pointing to the fence. “I thought it might be hurt.”

“Hank?” Ari said, her head snapping in the direction of the gate. “Oh, God! I forgot all about Rex’s dog! My uncle loves that hound. Is he hurt?”

“He’s fine physically,” I told her. “But I do think he’s pretty freaked-out. Maybe he could stay with you until your uncle feels better?”

I knew that Ari probably needed something to comfort and be comforted by right about then, and I was very relieved when she nodded and moved away from us to go in search of the hound.

When she’d gone, I leaned in and whispered in Heath’s ear, “I have lots to share.”

He eyed his mother, who hadn’t noticed our exchange—her gaze was still fixed on her brother’s house. Then he whispered back to me, “Later.”

“I have something for you,” Mrs. Lujan said suddenly, turning to us as if she’d just thought of something important. I’m sure I appeared puzzled, because she added quickly, “I was in the workshop when all this was happening. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

The moment she left, I pulled Heath even farther away from anyone who might overhear, and quickly told him what I’d heard upstairs in Rex’s house. “Pena lied?” he said.

I nodded. “Said he had a dentist appointment.”

Heath’s brow was furrowed. “None of this makes sense, Em.”

“Here!” said a voice right behind me, and I jumped at least a foot at the sound. Whirling around, I saw that Mrs. Lujan was holding a beautiful urn in her hands, colored black on black with an arrow stenciled in gray. The shaft was tipped in white feathers, and the arrow was impaling a large black bird. There was no mistaking the subtext there.

As I took the rather heavy object, Mrs. Lujan explained, “Late last night I had the most vivid dream,” she began. “My father came to me and he brought along another man, telling me only that he was an ancestor and that I needed to listen carefully to what he said.

“The ancestor told me that the moment I woke up, I needed to go back to my workshop and paint this urn. He said that I would need to paint it all in black, and that I was to write some very specific words on the urn—please don’t ask me what they were, because they were all in Zuni, and I’d be hard-pressed to give you the full translation.”

“No worries,” I said, trusting that the words didn’t need my understanding to work.

“The ancestor then told me that when the urn was finished, I had to give it to you. He named you specifically, M. J. And then my dad stepped forward again, and told me that after delivering this to you, I’d need to get my butt back to Phoenix.”

Heath and I exchanged a look of total surprise. “You’re leaving?” Heath said.

His mother nodded. “The minute I’m sure Rex is all right, I’m going back to Evelyn’s.” I had to hand it to the woman—she firmly believed that her brother would be all right.

Ari appeared then with Rex’s hound, and I was relieved to see the bits of dog food around his wet muzzle, which meant that Ari had coaxed him into eating a little. At that moment Ari’s phone rang. “It’s Brody,” she said when she looked at the display. I held Hank’s leash while Ari answered the phone and after a few minutes I could read the relief on her face. “Thank God,” she said into the receiver. “Okay, sweetie, keep me posted.”

“How’s Rex?” Mrs. Lujan asked even before Ari had hung up.

“He’s stable. They’re going to get him into surgery in the next hour or so, but the heart attack doesn’t seem to be as bad as they first thought. They think they can get by with just a stent and avoid a bypass this time.”

Mrs. Lujan closed her eyes and whispered something to herself. Then she looped her arm through Ari’s and said, “Come on. I have to pack my things and then we’ll head to the hospital and wait out the surgery. You can take me to the airport as soon as Rex is in the clear.”

“I can take you to the airport, Ma,” Heath said, turning to go with the women.

Mrs. Lujan stopped in her tacks and eyed her son. “No,” she told him. “You and M. J. need to stop this thing. That’s what both the ancestor and your grandfather said. It’s up to you two. And as long as I’m here, you’ll be distracted. That’s why I’m going, son. You two need to stay here, find that demon, and kill it once and for all.”

Heath’s expression was inscrutable, but his mother’s was crystal clear. It said, “Do as I say . . . or else!”

I took Heath by the hand. “We’ll do our best, Mrs. Lujan. You go back to Phoenix. Stay safe and we’ll tell you when the job is done.”

She flashed me a grateful smile, and hurried off with her niece. Heath stood there looking after her for a good long while, but he finally turned to me, took the urn from my arms, and said, “Let’s go kick some demon butt.”

“I found your professor,” Gilley said the moment Heath and I walked into his room.

“Bissell?” I asked, wearily taking the chair at the desk and holding out my fingers so that Doc could climb onto my hand.

“Yep.”

“Drumstick!” Doc crowed, sticking out his right foot.

I glared at Gil. “I’m gonna kill you for teaching him that.”

“Hooters has buffalo wings!” Doc added, fluttering his wings for effect.

I sucked in a breath and had I not been holding my bird, I would have flown at Gilley and thumped him on the head.
“Gilley!”

Heath snickered, ducked his chin, and laughed into his hand. He quickly stopped and cleared his throat when I turned my evil eye on him. “Sorry,” he said, working hard to suppress a grin. “You’re right, it’s not funny.”

“Babaloooooooooo! Order up!” Doc sang, again sticking out his right foot. “Drumstick! Side of wings! To go!”

I closed my eyes for a moment, opened them back up, and placed Doc back onto his perch. Then I got up, took three steps around the table, and swatted the top of Gil’s head. “Ow!” he cried. “Hey! No hitting!”