Ghoul Interrupted

  So after a minute I focused again on Teeks, only to find her staring at me with a knowing grin. “You really are over him, aren’t you?”

  “I really am.”

  “Waffles are ready!” Mrs. Lujan called, and we both jumped; then we both laughed and headed over to the table.

  From the hallway Gilley came rushing in, still clutching a pillow. “Did someone say waffles?”

  “On the table,” Mrs. Lujan told him.

  Gil set his pillow on the couch, which was when he caught sight of what was left of the patio furniture. He made a small squeaking sound and I hurried over to him. “Don’t look,” I told him. “It’s better if you don’t stare at it.”

  Gil made another squeaking noise and moved with me to the table. When everyone was seated, Mrs. Lujan doled out the fresh waffles and said, “Did you manage to get back to sleep?”

  I nodded along with Gil, but Teeks shook her head. “I couldn’t,” she said with a shudder, hugging her coffee mug.

  “You’re going back to Boston, then?” Mrs. Lujan asked, and I wondered if Teeks had already told her.

  One look at Karen’s surprised face told me different. “Yes,” she said. “I was going to stay a few days, but whatever that thing was last night really freaked me out. I don’t even know how to explain it to John.”

  “So we’ll pack after breakfast and get out of your hair,” I said.

  Teeks was quick to hold up her hand. “Oh, no, M. J.! I didn’t mean for you guys to leave too. You stay here as long as you like. Really. It’s fine.”

  Next to me Heath shifted uncomfortably and Gilley’s big eyes flew to the windows. “I liked our hotel,” he whispered, and when Karen’s expression turned to hurt, he was quick to explain. “No offense, Teeks, but if that thing did that to your patio furniture, I don’t think those windows are gonna stop it.”

  She nodded like she understood fully. “Exactly what I was thinking, Gil.”

  Gilley then turned to me and said, “Maybe I should go back to Boston with Teeko?”

  I nearly choked on my waffle. “You won’t stay?”

  Heath looked down at his plate, clearly disappointed and maybe also a little hurt.

  “Do you two really need me?” Gilley asked. “I mean, I’ll stay if you really want me to, but I might just be in the way here.”

  I swallowed hard. Dammit. Why did Gilley have to leave the decision up to me? “If you want to go, go,” Heath said softly. Then he added, “Seriously, dude. This is my problem, right? It’s my aunt and uncle who died. I should be the one to handle it.”

  I moved my hand to rub his shoulder, then glared hard at Gil. He scowled at me and shoved a piece of his waffle around his plate, but finally he sighed dramatically and said, “I’ll stay.”

  Heath picked his chin up. “It’s really okay, Gilley. If you’re too freaked-out, then go back to Boston. I won’t hold it against you. Hell, I can’t even say I’d stay if I were in your shoes.”

  I leaned back in my chair so Heath couldn’t see the look I was giving Gilley, which basically said, “Don’t. You. Dare. Leave.”

  Gil’s scowl deepened. “I’ll stay,” he muttered. “Really, I want to.”

  For the record, no one believed that last part, but I had to give Gil credit for saying it.

  “Can we talk about the elephant in the room at least?” I said.

  “Which one?” Gil muttered.

  I ignored him and said, “Mrs. Lujan, you seemed to recognize our description of whatever that thing was last night. Can you tell us why it rang a bell for you?”

  Heath’s mother took a sip of her orange juice before answering me. “It was something my father said,” she explained. “He came to me in my dream last night.”

  I blinked. I didn’t quite know what to say to that. “Really?”

  “Yes,” she said, her eyes glistening with the memory. “He hasn’t come to see me in a very long time. But I understand he visits with you quite a lot,” she added, looking pointedly at me.

  I smiled. “I think it’s because he believes I need looking after,” I told her.

  She laughed. “Oh, I think it’s because he genuinely adores you.” I blushed but she continued. “Anyway, it was such a powerful encounter with him last night that I believe it’s the reason I didn’t hear you all knocking on my door. I remember being so excited to see him after all these years and wanting to take in every word he said to me when bam! The door crashed open and I woke up.”

  Heath grimaced. “Sorry, again, Ma. I was worried about you.”

  Mrs. Lujan smiled and gave a pat to his arm. “It’s not me you need to apologize to,” she said. “Poor Karen here has to explain the damage to her fiancé. Am I right?”

  Teeks waved her hand like it was nothing. “I’ll have a handyman come by this afternoon. He can haul away the patio furniture and repair the door in no time. John never has to know.”

  I wanted to ask Mrs. Lujan what Sam had said, but I didn’t want to be rude.

  “What’d Sam say?” Gilley asked.

  “You know my father too?” Mrs. Lujan asked him, her own face now surprised.

  Gil glanced quickly at me. “Uh, no,” he said. “But M. J. talks about him all the time. He’s helped us a lot on our ghostbusts.”

  Mrs. Lujan beamed. “That’s Sam Whitefeather for you,” she said proudly. “He told me that he’s made M. J. an honorary member of the tribe and he’s now watching over her as her spirit guide.”

  “I’m very grateful to have Sam’s spiritual assistance,” I told her, and that was the truth.

  “What else did he say, Mom?” Heath asked.

  “He said that he’s very concerned about this demon that’s come for the Whitefeathers,” she told him. “He didn’t want me to come back for the funerals, you know. I think that’s why I got so worked up about flying here. I think Dad was trying to make me feel like it was a bad idea, but when you said you were coming to get me on a private plane, I couldn’t say no.”

  Karen looked downright guilty. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea you weren’t supposed to be here.”

  Mrs. Lujan shook her head vigorously. “Oh, stop,” she said, attempting a smile. “It’s not your fault, dear. You were so kind to offer! And how was I to know that a demon would come here last night?”

  “Maybe you should go back to Phoenix?” Heath said, worry lining his forehead.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she told him. “Now that I’m here, I’m going to help you three figure out why a demon is targeting our family.”

  “Did Sam tell you anything about its history or who might have summoned it?” I asked, determined to get to the bottom of things as soon as possible. In order to deal with this thing, we had to know its origins.

  Mrs. Lujan nodded. “He said that it was very old, dating back to before the first of our ancestors, which makes it very dangerous and very powerful. He said that I held the key to what it was, but just as he was getting ready to tell me more, you all came into my room. After the police left, I tried getting back to sleep, hoping Dad would come to me again, but I tossed and turned the whole rest of the night, and never really managed it.”

  “Did Sam mention anything else about the demon before we woke you?” I pressed, thinking any detail left out might be the one clue we needed to figure this out.

  Mrs. Lujan rubbed her arm absently. “I think he mentioned something about the histories,” she said. “But I can’t be sure.”

  “The histories?” I repeated. “What’re the histories?”

  Heath answered. “About fifty years ago when younger members of our tribe began to leave the Pueblos in earnest, each tribal council began to take the oral histories of each Pueblo and write them down in both English and Zuni so that, should those tribal members return, they’d always have a reference of their heritage. Each history is housed in a private library on each Pueblo.”

  “What’s Zuni?” Teeks asked.

  “It’s the language of ou
r particular tribe.”

  “Do you speak it?” I asked him.

  Heath said something in reply that sounded almost like a mixture of Arabic and Spanish. It was beautiful and melodic. “What’d you say?” Gilley wanted to know.

  Heath smiled. “I said, ‘Yes, I speak the language of my people, the great tribe of the Zanto.’ ”

  “Who’s Zanto?” Gil pressed.

  “We are Zanto,” Mrs. Lujan said, pointing to herself and Heath.

  Gil pointed to himself and me. “We are Valdosta.” I slapped him on the arm. “Ow!”

  “Behave,” I scolded.

  He scowled at me and looked at Teeko. “Is there still room on that plane, Teeks?”

  She laughed. “Oh, no, buddy. If I take you back, M. J.’ll kill me. You’re stuck here.”

  Gilley frowned and excused himself to go sulk somewhere. Meanwhile I asked Mrs. Lujan some more about the Zanto Pueblo histories. “Can we get a look at these histories and see if there’s something about this demon in them?”

  Heath and his mother traded an uncomfortable look. “I’ll ask my brothers,” she said after a bit of a pause.

  “You have to ask permission to read the history of your own people?” I asked. I didn’t get the sudden shift in energy at the table.

  “My mother isn’t welcome at the Pueblo,” Heath said softly. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that my uncle Rex is in charge of the library where the histories are kept, and if she asks, he might—and I do mean might—let her look through them.”

  “Ah,” I said. I realized that I probably shouldn’t probe too much deeper about that sore subject.

  Teeks folded her napkin and picked up her plate. “I’d better pack,” she said, excusing herself from the table.

  That left just the three of us, and I thought that maybe Heath could use some time alone with his mom. I glanced at the clock. Doc would be anxious to come out of his cage anyway. I’d checked under his blanket right before heading to breakfast and he’d appeared calm and sleepy. “I better see about Doc,” I told them, and started to push my own chair back when Heath laid a hand on my arm and pulled me forward to kiss me.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I felt my cheeks redden at the PDA in front of his mom. “For what?”

  “For everything, but especially for not packing and getting on that flight with Teeko.”

  Okay, screw the embarrassment. I leaned in and kissed him back.

  Later, after the handyman came and fixed the door to Mrs. Lujan’s room, we saw Teeko and Wendell off. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take Doc?” she asked, giving me a big hug next to the limo.

  I was truly conflicted about whether to send my bird back with Karen or keep him here with me. I didn’t yet know exactly what that thing was that had come prowling around the house, but I knew it was trouble. Still, I’d missed my bird so much that I just couldn’t bear to part with him yet. If things got really dicey, I decided, I could find a local bird vet or aviary to house him for a few days. “Thanks,” I told her. “But I think I want to keep him close for as long as I can.”

  Teeks patted me on the back and then stepped away to hold my shoulders at arm’s length. “Are you sure you won’t stay here?” she asked. “I mean, you don’t know for sure the demon will come back here, right?”

  “Which is exactly why we should go,” I said. “The uncertainty is what’ll keep us up at night. Plus, with those big picture windows, it’s way too dangerous. We’d be too exposed. I think we’ll find a hotel somewhere close to downtown with lots of traffic and people to play it safe.”

  “Okay,” Teeks said. “But you guys don’t have to leave right away. Just lock up anytime and throw the key under the mat, okay?”

  “You got it, gal pal,” I said, squeezing her hand. Heath and I had already discussed it, and we’d decided to do some investigating while there was still an abundance of daylight out, then go for an early dinner and come back here to pack up before dusk.

  Teeks leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, whispering, “Stay safe, you hear?”

  I nodded vigorously, and then I watched her get in the limo and waited until it’d driven out of sight before going back inside, all the while knowing I’d miss her something fierce.

  Around two o’clock the driver came back and took us over to get Heath’s car out of a garage on the south end of town. I wasn’t surprised to find that he drove an immaculately clean Dodge Durango polished to a shiny, silver sheen. We all piled in and Gil asked, “Where to now?”

  “Now we go find some answers,” Mrs. Lujan said.

  I could feel her nervous energy all the way in the backseat. “Where do you want to start, Ma?” Heath asked.

  “Your uncle Milton’s cabin,” she told him. “The scene of the first crime.”

  Heath started up the car and we pulled out of the garage. He drove in silence and not ten minutes into the trip I felt Gil’s head hit my shoulder. That boy can fall asleep at the drop of a hat—or a nice cruise in a car.

  Heath wound his way northwest, and we made our way back toward the Pueblo, but took a detour just before we got to the entrance, hanging a right instead of a left onto a narrow road that wound its way up into the foothills. Just when I was starting to nod off myself from the warmth of the car and the lull of the engine, Heath slowed and made a left-hand turn onto a hidden dirt road. “This is tucked away,” I muttered as the SUV bounced and jostled its way along the uneven terrain.

  Beside me, Gilley snorted and woke up. “Are we there yet?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

  “Almost,” said Mrs. Lujan. “Milton kept a hunting lodge in these hills and it’s at the end of this road.”

  Heath had to slow way down because the road became even more difficult to navigate. It was littered with potholes and large rocks. After a bit we were all bracing ourselves against the sides of the Durango to keep from bouncing around in our seats.

  Finally we came around a large bend and there was a small but well-built cabin littered with debris and broken glass. Something caught my eye even before Heath put the car into park. I felt a wave of shivers creep up my spine.

  Just below the window were three long grooves that looked like talon marks, just like we’d seen in the tree Beverly had hit, and along the back of Teeko’s lodge.

  We got out silently and I could see the effect of the condition of the cabin on both Heath’s face and his mother’s. They wore identical expressions of horror and shock. I’m sure I wore it as well.

  The four of us stood by the Durango for a moment, and to a person we closed the doors quietly, almost as if we didn’t want to disturb the scene with an obtrusive noise. I moved quickly to Heath’s side and took his hand. He jerked a little when I touched him, as if he hadn’t been aware of anything except his uncle’s ruined cabin.

  Mrs. Lujan approached the entrance first. She walked carefully around the bits of glass and splintered wood. The door was open and as I squinted into the interior, I realized that the door had swung inward and was hanging haphazardly on its hinges.

  Just behind me Gilley squeaked, the telltale sign that he was scared witless. I reached back and took his hand with my free one. “Stick with me,” I whispered.

  He edged closer and when he moved, Heath did too. The three of us stepped to the door just behind Mrs. Lujan. She paused in the doorway and I could see over her shoulder. A gasp escaped me. The inside looked like a five-hundred-pound tiger had decorated it.

  Furniture was smashed and broken and flung about with such violence that I could hardly believe it. There were deep gouges along all four walls and the furniture was barely recognizable as anything other than scrap.

  Broken pottery also littered the floor, and when Mrs. Lujan stepped through the door into the chaotic scene, she bent down to retrieve one of the shards and a small cry escaped her.

  She hugged the piece to her and pinched her eyes closed. Heath let go of my hand and went over to comfort her, his feet crunching on t
he debris. Gilley and I waited in tense silence just inside the door. We both looked around nervously and I could see Gil’s face was as pale as when he was battling the worst of his flu. “Let’s go!” he mouthed, tugging on my hand and turning his body toward the car.

  I shook my head. “Not yet,” I whispered.

  Gil continued to eye Heath’s SUV longingly. I had the feeling he was calculating how fast he could run to it.

  With a sigh I let go of Gil’s hand and began to move around the small space, being careful not to bump or move any of the mess. There was a plastic glove on the floor smeared with blood—probably what was left from the coroner when he came for Milton’s body—and I felt my stomach turn over.

  As I walked around and took in the scene, the hairs on the back of my neck rose and I became light-headed. It wasn’t until I was over by the fireplace that I realized what was happening to me. “M. J.?” I heard Gilley ask, but his voice sounded very far away, as if he were calling to me from a tunnel.

  I didn’t answer or acknowledge him. Instead I focused on the scene around me and tried not to fight the lightness that was making my limbs tingle. And then, almost in the blink of an eye I saw it—the one-room cabin the way it had been before it was demolished.

  There had been a fire crackling in the fireplace that night, and a man with long silver hair who looked remarkably like Sam was hunched over the hearth. He was putting some logs into the bin right next to me and I could smell bacon frying in a pan on the tiny stove at the other end.

  The cabin was lit by the fire and two lanterns hung from the center beam. Outside, the wind howled.

  Wiping his hands, the man stood up with a small grunt and I could literally hear his joints creak. He put a hand on his knees and grimaced and then he walked stiffly with a slight limp back over to the stove. I watched him crack a couple of eggs right into the pan next to the bacon, and when they were done, he scooped them onto a plate and moved over to the large stump that served as his kitchen table. Pulling up a wooden chair, the man I knew was Milton sat down and got ready to enjoy his dinner, but suddenly, from outside there was a loud THUMP.