Hell Fire (22 page)

That reminded me.

“Call your mother,” I called to Chance.

“Already did,” he answered. “She’s fine.”

One worry put to bed, at least. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I checked my cell phone. When I unearthed it, I had voice mail waiting. I dialed, input my code, and listened:

A computer told me I had another message, and then I heard Chuch’s voice:

Before we went out and lost service again, I needed to get in touch. I started with Booke. Doing the time conversion, I realized it would be evening there, not that I’d wake him, no matter what time I called. I wasn’t sure he ever slept.

He answered on the first ring, a sure sign he’d been waiting for my call. “Corine?”

“Yep,” I said. “What’s up?”

“I think I’ve figured out why your cell phone only worked in the library.”

Hm. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we’d been banned from the library, and events had outpaced his research. I tried to sound encouraging. “Really? Why?”

His rich, educated voice warmed with the interest he felt toward his subject matter. “Protective sigils are etched into the top of the building; very interesting ones too, from a rare Hermetic tradition, harking back to the Emerald Tablet of Hermes, but also incorporating writings from the Rosicrucian—”

“Good work.” I felt bad about interrupting, but he would give me onerous detail if I let him. “That’s a pretty strange find for a small town in Georgia,” I added.

“To say the least,” he agreed. “It looks to me like there used to be a steeple in the center as well. Is there any possibility the library once served as a church?”

I considered. “It’s down near the old courthouse, so I’m going to say yes. Land records would probably tell us for sure.”

“At any rate, that building was blessed and protected at some point.”

Which didn’t save poor old John McGee.
We should probably remember that before putting too much faith in our own wards.

“Anything else I should know?”

“I’m still working on discovering what spell would suck a town into a black hole and create an equivalent dark spot in the ether,” he told me.

I wished him luck with that, thanked him, and rang off. I needed to call Chuch and let him know I was still breathing. That didn’t take long. He seemed glad to hear from me, and warned me that things in Texas were still hot as a nest of scorpions. Montoya had guys looking for me and Chance, he said, and it would be smart of us to stay out of sight.

That trouble felt distant at the moment, so I told him to give Eva my love, and then made my last call. Senor Alvarez reported that the store was doing well, he was taking good care of my plants, and I shouldn’t worry about things at home. I wished that had relieved me, but I wanted to book a flight right then. I didn’t want Alvarez starting to feel comfortable in my pawnshop or in the life I’d built. I wanted to get back to it.

But I couldn’t until I finished things here.

Before leaving the bedroom, I plaited my long hair into a single French braid running down my back and secured it with a nylon band. I found the others waiting for me in the parlor. To a soul, they bore the same concerned expression. Even Butch lifted his head from where he was napping and gave me a worried glance.

“I’m okay,” I said. “Just a bit shaky. I’m sure a home-cooked meal at Miss Minnie’s will work wonders.”

None of them looked convinced, but they didn’t argue. Instead I packed up Butch’s food and water dishes, along with some kibble. Depending on what Miss Minnie put in the soup, it might not be good for the dog. Not that he’d mind. Dogs tended not to care about their health when food was at stake.

“We’re not late?” I asked as we climbed into the SUV.

“Nah.” Jesse shook his head. “We have time. We’re supposed to be there at six?”

Chance nodded. “It’s half past five now.”

I was interested in asking her a number of questions, things only a longtime resident of Kilmer would know. A smart woman like Miss Minnie would have missed nothing over the years; I just had to get her to tell me what she knew.

The ride passed mostly in silence. When we got to town, I gave Jesse directions, and we pulled up outside Miss Minnie’s house at ten to six. Her house didn’t seem to have changed at all—a snug little bungalow painted white with cheerful red shutters.

Chance took my arm as I slid out of the vehicle, a little overprotective but nice. If I wanted more physical contact from him, I couldn’t complain about the way it manifested, could I? Shannon and Jesse followed us up the four stairs to her door, where I knocked.

Miss Minnie answered promptly. As I’d seen outside the library, she was still willow slim, her hair snow-white, and her face wrinkled. She was clad in a button-down dress patterned with a floral print, and her eyes brightened when she saw all of us.

“My goodness,” she said. “It’s so good to have young people in the house again. I hope y’all like corn bread.”

Jesse nodded, Shannon looked ambivalent, and Chance said nothing.
Mmm.
I remembered her corn bread.

“Thanks. It’s really good to see you.” I gave her a hug because she looked frail and old and she didn’t have her own grandchildren to do it. Sadly, I was probably the closest thing she had to family.

“You too, Corine.” She stepped back to usher us into the small living room.

“I hope you don’t mind. We also brought our dog.”

Almost as if in response, Butch bobbed up from the depth of my handbag and gave Miss Minnie a polite kiss on the back of her hand. She responded with a laugh of pure delight. “Why, he’s the sweetest critter I’ve seen in twenty years.”

Butch preened beneath her attentions and then yapped at me. I was starting to recognize the tone of his barks. This one meant he wanted to get down and make sure the place was safe. I bent and let him get to work; his little nose angled down.

I made the introductions and left it to Chance and Jesse to flatter her within an inch of her life. They didn’t disappoint. Chance complimented the décor and Jesse applied his down-home drawl to tell her that something in her kitchen smelled better than the supper his mama used to make. She blushed and dithered, so it took her a minute to realize she already knew Shannon.

But she didn’t question, just greeted the girl and then invited us all to take a seat in the dining room while she got dinner on the table. I would have offered to help her, but frankly, I was on my last legs. I sank down into the ladder-back chair.

Chance and Jesse followed Miss Minnie into the kitchen. At first she tried to shoo them out, and then she gave in. “I reckon I can get the food on the table, boys.” Shannon and I both stifled a snicker at hearing them called “boys.” “But it would be a great help if you’d slide the leaf into the dining room table. It’s just right back there. . . .”

She had chairs enough already, so I just kept out of the way as the guys pulled off the tablecloth, fitted the extra wood in place, and locked it. The cloth went back on and we were ready to go. Before long, we all sat down with hot bowls of vegetable soup, a platter of piping hot corn bread, and real butter.

I remembered that Miss Minnie would want to say a short blessing first, so I spared myself the awkwardness of beginning before the hostess. I nudged Shannon, who sat beside me, spoon on the way to her mouth. Fortunately, the lady kept it short. She was a considerate hostess, and she put down a dish of cold minced chicken for Butch. He trotted to the dining room as we all dug in.

While we ate, conversation was sparse. We made small talk about where I’d been since I left, and how I’d met Chance. Miss Minnie was quite taken with the romance of my returning his lost keys, as if it meant I held the keys to his heart or something. She made a little joke along those lines, and Chance slid me a weighted look. Everyone laughed politely, but I could tell Jesse wanted me to say that Chance and I weren’t together anymore, not like she seemed to think.

For the sake of honesty, I did. “We’re just friends now, though.”

Miss Minnie raised her brows in surprise. “Does
he
know that?”

Chance frowned at me. “Unfortunately, yes.”

After we traded soup bowls for slices of Bundt cake, I felt almost up to bridging the subject we needed to discuss. Even then, I ate a few bites first, not wanting to miss dessert entirely if she took umbrage and chucked us out. Before I could decide what to say, Miss Minnie stood up.

“Go on, now. You can take your plates into the living room. I’ll make a pot of coffee and we’ll just visit a spell.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “Thank you so much. It was delicious.”

The other three echoed my words with real sincerity. Living like we did, we missed out on home-cooked meals and grandmotherly kindness. At least, that held true for Chance and me; I wasn’t sure why Shannon wouldn’t have been eating well at home, unless she suspected her mother of tampering with her food. At this point I wouldn’t doubt it. But Jesse was the lucky one; he had a mother and a father waiting at home. She made pumpkin pie from vegetables his father grew at home. His family sounded impossibly idyllic, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, sliding into a Fourth of July picnic at his side.

It sounded like everything I’d always wanted.

Five minutes after we sat down in the living room, Miss Minnie brought in a real silver tray, laid with fine eggshell china and old-fashioned cream and sugar bowls. She set the platter on the coffee table, casting us back to older times when it was actually used for that purpose, just like we were doing now. She carefully fixed each cup according to our specifications and then sat back in her rose velvet armchair, looking pleased.

Butch trotted in with nothing to report and fuzz on top of his head. I dusted him off and pulled him into my lap. Stroking a dog had to be one of the best relaxation techniques in the world. He burrowed into the crook of my arm and went to sleep.

“I don’t get visitors like I used to,” she remarked again. “I’m just that happy to see you, Corine. I always did wonder what became of you.”

I’d never get a better segue. “I’m well . . . but there’s a reason I came back.” Chance gave an encouraging nod, so I went on. “I need to find out the truth behind my mother’s death. I know something’s wrong here. I know about the thing in the woods, and that there’s evil running free in town. I already know all that, but people aren’t talking. I have no reason to think you will, other than your apparent fondness for me, but I’m willing to trade on that. The fact is, you may be our only hope for putting all the pieces together.”

Her hands shook as she curled her thin, blue-veined fingers around her cup, and her lined face went pale as milk. “Lord, Lord,” she breathed, turning her face upward as if in appeal to a god I no longer believed in. “The end of days has come at last.”

 

 

 

 

Things went to hell without a handbasket.

It was as if I’d flipped a switch, and the nice old lady who had served us supper disappeared. In her place sat a dire Cassandra prophesying doom and gloom. As the shadows lengthened, even her face looked different somehow, full of mad premonition.

“I saw them,” she said, staring at nothing. “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. They’ve ridden through town more than once. At first I tried to pretend I didn’t see them, but the way they came and went . . . Oh, I knew.” She nodded sagely. “I knew.”

“Uh-huh,” Chance said, seeming worried.

He wasn’t the only one.

“But what they don’t know is that four angels come to banish them.” She blessed us with a beatific smile. “I should have known about you.” Miss Minnie nodded at me. “Eyes full of heaven and such an unearthly power in your hands. I should have had faith.”

“In what?” Shannon asked.

I guessed she didn’t identify herself as a guardian angel.

“In the Lord,” Miss Minnie answered. “The time of tribulation is on us.”

What do you say to that, really?

To give him credit, Jesse tried to make sense of it. “What have you seen that makes you think—”

“‘There was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood.’” The old woman closed her eyes, obviously reciting from memory. “ ‘There fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters . . . there followed hail and fire mingled with blood, and they were cast upon the earth: and the third part of trees was burnt up, and all green grass was burnt up. I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth: and to him was given the key to the bottomless pit.’ ”

“It’s from Revelation,” Jesse muttered. “Obviously those verses hold symbolic meaning for her, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

With a little shiver, I realized we’d already found one of the places she was referencing. I’d noticed the ground around the hollow tree in the wood looked as though it had been hit by an asteroid, dead earth, almost charred, where the monster stored its trinkets.
To him was given the key to the bottomless pit—
it sure sounded like Miss Minnie thought whatever lived out there came straight from hell.

“You think we can prevent the earthquake, fire, and blood?” I asked, feeling my way through what felt like a mental mine-field.

“You will,” she said with certainty. “Or nobody. The Lord’s will be done.”

Try as we might, we couldn’t get any more sense out of her. After that pronouncement, she turned her face toward the wall and her eyes went strange and glassy, as if she gazed at some war-blasted inner landscape. Mentioning the wrongness in Kilmer seemed to have triggered an episode.