Homecoming (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller #1)

  Chapter Seven

  McCoy lay in his bed and wondered if his luck might finally be turning around.

  He glanced over at Amanda, who was snoring gently beside him. After dinner, they had decided that she should sleep over so they could get an early start in the morning. She had gone back to her place, packed a few things, and returned a short time later. As far as sleepovers went, this was a first, and they had both been a little nervous. The evening, however, had flowed at such a natural pace that they might as well have been living together for years.

  He was as happy as he could ever remember being, but he was also scared. This was unchartered territory for him, and he was afraid he might do something to mess it all up. And then there was his job, or his life, or whatever you wanted to call it. He was scared that she might get hurt. He was also afraid that she might tire of looking into the darkness with him.

  McCoy knew that he was not giving Amanda enough credit by thinking this way. She was one of the strongest and smartest people he had ever met. A lot smarter than McCoy himself, apparently. He had been so busy patting himself on the back for figuring out the girl’s role in the disappearances that he had overlooked the connection between the girl he’d seen and the image the demon had taken. And he had a feeling that it might be an important, if not critical, piece of the puzzle.

  He knew that he was missing something. He hoped that things might make more sense in the morning when they went back to Shallow Springs. Maybe Amanda might find something useful in the newspaper archives.

  He didn’t want to disturb her, but he had to pee. He was convinced that his bladder was shrinking by half every year. At the rate he was falling apart, he probably didn’t need to worry about the Fey or demons or anything else getting him. He would simply whittle away to nothing.

  McCoy crept out of the bed as quietly as he could and padded to the bathroom. He lifted the toilet seat and made a mental note to put it back down when he was finished. It was nice to think that he might have to get used to doing that.

  When he finished his business, he tiptoed back into the bedroom. He was about to crawl back under the covers when he heard something. He froze and listened. It came again—a buzzing sound, something like a pissed-off bumble bee might make. He looked around but saw nothing. It sounded like it was coming from beneath the bed. He squatted slowly, ready for something horrible to erupt from the darkness, and realized that it was coming from his shirt, which he had discarded on the floor earlier. His cell phone was in the pocket of the shirt. He had set the phone to vibrate earlier in the evening.

  McCoy snatched the phone from the pocket and trotted into the kitchen; he didn’t want to disturb Amanda. He looked at the phone’s display, but didn’t recognize the number. With a bad feeling, he answered.

  “McCoy.”

  “Finn McCoy?” came the deep voice, which McCoy couldn’t place.

  “That’s right. Who is this?”

  “My name’s John Talbot, Mr. McCoy. I’m a deputy with the Meade County Sheriff’s Department.”

  McCoy was able to put a face to the voice. “Yeah. You’re the big guy. I’ve seen you around, but we’ve never been introduced.”

  “Yes, sir.” Talbot sounded every bit the cop. McCoy wondered whether or not this was an official call. “I got your number from Deidre Pratt at the office. I hope you don’t mind me calling so late.”

  “No. That’s fine. Has something happened in the Springs?”

  “You might say that.” There was a pause, as if Talbot were unsure how to continue. Or if he should. “I saw something tonight, Mr. McCoy,” he said finally.

  “Call me Finn. Please. What was it that you saw, John?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I got a good look at it and all, but I still couldn’t tell you what the hell it was.”

  “Let me guess. It was about three feet tall and looked like the ugliest kid you’d ever laid eyes on.”

  “How’d you know that?” Talbot sounded shocked.

  “It was either that or a really hot naked chick,” McCoy said. “I figured you wouldn’t be calling me in the middle of the night about her.”

  “Naked chick?” Talbot was confused.

  “Never mind. I take it Lyle hasn’t given you guys many details about what’s going on.”

  Another pause, this one not quite as long. “No sir, he hasn’t. I need to ask you a few things, Finn, but first, I need for you to understand something. I’ve always done my best to be a good cop.”

  “I’m sure you have,” McCoy said.

  “I thought long and hard before making this call,” Talbot said. “I struggled with it. It’s not in my nature to go behind my boss’ back. But I’ve come to believe that the situation is more serious than he’s led us to believe.”

  “You hit that nail on the head.”

  “Sheriff Lyle is dead set against calling in the state boys. I’m…not so sure. Do you think he’s making the right call?”

  It was McCoy’s turn to pause. He knew very well Lyle’s reason for wanting to keep the outside help outside, and it had nothing to do with the safety of the citizens of Shallow Springs. Be that as it may, McCoy had always gone along with it because he had a better chance of dealing with the Fey without the interference that the state police or feds would have provided.

  “For the time being,” he said, “it’s a good call. You’ve probably heard that I was in town today. I met with the sheriff, and we came up with a game plan. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, and I’m going to try to put an end to this before anyone else gets hurt.”

  “Yeah, I heard you were some kind of ghost talker. Do you think you can do it? The truth.”

  “I think I can, yeah. I’ve had experience with things like you saw earlier.”

  “What the hell was it?” Talbot asked.

  McCoy sighed. “Well, John, now that you’re in the loop, so to speak, you’re going to need to be filled in on a lot of things. That’s something best done in person, and it would be better if Lyle didn’t know. We can meet up tomorrow, if you want.”

  Talbot considered this. “Okay. But just so you know, if anyone else turns up missing, I’m going to make that call.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “What time are you…what the…” Talbot broke off.

  “John? Are you still there?”

  Talbot did not reply. McCoy could hear what sounded like footsteps and low, heavy breathing.

  “John, what’s going on?”

  “I just saw one of them,” came the whispered reply.

  “What? Where are you?”

  “In the middle of town. It ran into the alley between the hair salon and the drugstore.”

  “Town?” McCoy was at a loss. None of the Fey had ever been so brazen before. If the Sluagh were actually in the town itself…

  “McCoy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Still think you can stop them?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Then you’d better get your ass over here. Right now.”

  The call ended.