Eighth Grave After Dark

  Mo felt to the day she died it was the chicken soup that had healed her, and though she never spoke again, she did find her way back to reality, slowly at first, and over time her mother and sister helped her recover.

  She and her sister grew even closer. They made up signs, their own secret language, so Mo could talk to her, and while her mother insisted she learn real sign language, she never forgot the language she and her sister made up.

  Her good memories hit me, too. Her cousin’s birthday party where she ended up bringing a puppy home because her cousin was angry that it wasn’t a pony. So her aunt gave it to her to teach her son a lesson. The boy had a pony a month later, thus her cousin learned nothing from the experience, but that was okay, because Mo and Bea had a puppy named BB, short for Big Boy, that they served tea to and taught to sneeze on demand. And I now had irrefutable proof that dogs did indeed go to heaven, because that was who Mo saw first when she stepped through me, followed by her sister and then her parents.

  * * *

  It took me a moment to recover after she passed. I was so happy for her, to be in the place she belonged, with her family again. I was also sad that it took over seventy years for her to be reunited with them, but from what I understood, time didn’t matter much on the other side.

  Cookie texted me asking me where I was at.

  Right here. Where are you?

  Right here. Why can’t I see you? she asked, playing along.

  I descended the stairs, still walking a little slower than I’d like, and strolled through the house toward our office.

  Garrett was busy in the dining room, scouring a small portion of the text that he felt might be relevant to our situation, namely being held hostage by a group of angry hellhounds. I didn’t dare disturb him, but Osh did. He was in there, too, and he tossed a Cheez-It at him. Garrett didn’t acknowledge the Daeva or his antics.

  Osh turned toward me as I walked past, his eyes narrowed. Had he figured out my plan? How could he have? It was a freaking awesome plan. No way would anyone figure it out. Not in a million years.

  “So,” Cookie said when I walked in, “I have a plan.”

  “Me, too.” I sat in my chair and snatched the file papers out of her hand.

  “This is everything I could find out about Colton Ellix. He has the usual. Poor social skills. Very arrogant despite it. He was accused of stalking a girl when he was in high school, but that was long before they took that sort of thing seriously. He told the principal they’d been secretly dating, and when people found out, she accused him of stalking. The principal laughed it off, chalking it up to teenage hormones.”

  “What happened with the girl?”

  “That’s just it. She disappeared about a month later. She was never found.”

  “So, he’s been doing this awhile.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, pointing out another report. “He has never, not once, had another report filed on him. No complaints. Just always kept to himself.”

  “That doesn’t mean he hasn’t abducted more girls.”

  “True, but look at this.” She lifted out a spreadsheet. I was allergic to spreadsheets, so I opted not to touch it. “I have a detailed account of everywhere he’s lived. The high school incident happened in Kentucky. But his family moved around a lot, mostly in close range to other relatives. I get the feeling they were mooches. Once that relative got sick of them, they moved on to the next, claiming one hardship after another until someone new took them in.”

  “So, not a stable home life.”

  “Not at all, but I’ve searched and searched. There were absolutely no missing persons cases in any town they lived in. At least, not while he lived there. I even widened the search to a hundred miles. Nada. And that’s taking into account when he left his family. He was only sixteen when he moved in with a friend.”

  “Still no missing persons?”

  “Not one that wasn’t solved. But here’s the most interesting part,” Cookie said, getting excited. “Look at the girl who went missing when he was in high school.”

  She showed me a picture of a girl who could have been Faris’s twin. “Wow.”

  “Right? I mean, that can’t be a coincidence.”

  I sat back and compared their pictures. Every feature was strikingly similar.

  “You know what this means?”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding. Then she shook her head. “Well, no, not really.”

  “It means he was relatively new to it. He wasn’t seasoned.”

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she tried to grasp what I was getting at.

  “It means that he made mistakes. Probably a lot of them. Sure, he planned this. Thought it through. Went over every detail with a fine-toothed comb, but I promise you, he screwed up.”

  “Of course. He had to have. Repeat killers learn how to avoid mistakes as they go, how to cover their tracks better.”

  “They eventually screw up. They all do, but this guy had only done this once. And since he didn’t do it again, I would say he probably didn’t mean to kill the girl the first time. Maybe he genuinely thought that if he could just get her alone, he would win her over. When she either cried and scared him or tried to fight him, he killed her.”

  “Maybe she threatened him and he panicked.”

  “Could be. Either way, I think the first one was an accident.”

  “But when the guy he starts doing odd jobs for turns out to have a daughter that looks just like his former crush?”

  “Those old feelings come bubbling up and he can’t resist trying to win her again. I’m just wondering which feelings came to the surface.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Was it the old feelings of love or was it the feelings of betrayal? I think Faris’s life depends on which emotion held more sway. So what’s your plan?”

  “I think you should go get him and drag his ass back here.”

  I sat speechless. “Cook,” I said at last, my voice a harsh whisper, “how did you know what I was going to do?”

  “No way,” she said, just as shocked as I was. “I have to admit, I was mostly kidding. I mean, go where? He’s already crossed, right? Then—”

  This time she sat speechless. “You are not thinking what I’m thinking.”

  “Bet I am,” I said with a wink.

  “Charley, no.” She stood, scanned the halls to make sure no one was looking, then closed the door with a soft click. She sat in front of me and whispered, “Charley, you can’t be serious. I mean, he’s … there. Look at what we are dealing with here. Hellhounds at our gates. Spies in the closet. Departed trying to push you down mountains. If that’s what’s up here, what do you think will be down there?”

  I shifted in my chair. “I didn’t think of that. I haven’t really worked out the particulars, but, you know, it’ll be a surprise. They won’t expect me.”

  “That’s for sure. I know you said Reyes went to hell to get that rock on your finger—”

  I couldn’t help a glance at the orange diamond on my ring finger, the cut stunning, the color surreal.

  “—but he was born and raised there. He knew the layout. How on earth are you going to waltz in, find Mr. Ellix, interrogate him, then pop back out again without you-know-who finding out?”

  “Reyes?

  “Satan!” she screeched.

  “Sorry,” I said, testy thing. “Like I said, I haven’t worked out the particulars.”

  “So, we’re in agreement. That’s a crazy idea and we will never have one like that again.”

  “Cook, all our ideas are crazy. That’s setting the bar a little high, don’t you think?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Yes, but they aren’t all that crazy. You know, batshit.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, patting her knee. “I have insider information.”

  “From who?”

  “Garrett.”

  “You’re going to make him go to hell again, aren’t you? That poor guy.”

&nb
sp; “What? No. I’m going to tell him … Well, I haven’t gotten that far yet. It’s a work in progress, but I’ll figure it out. He can tell me what I need to know.”

  “This is the worst idea we’ve had yet.”

  “No way. Remember the time we tried to train that ferret to steal a file from that corporate guy’s office and this guy died?”

  “Oh, yeah. Okay, the second worst. Who would’ve guessed he was that allergic to ferrets?”

  “I felt bad about that. And if he hadn’t swindled the life savings from half the residents at Sunny Days Retirement Center, I would’ve felt really bad.”

  13

  NOPE. CAN’T GO TO HELL.

  SATAN STILL HAS A RESTRAINING ORDER AGAINST ME.

  —BUMPER STICKER

  So, Mr. Ellix was pretty new to kidnapping. I could only hope he hadn’t tried his hands at other parts of the gig. I prayed he hadn’t violated her. If so, it would be even harder for Faris to recover. But it seemed like he’d wanted that girl’s approval in high school. Her love. Maybe he was seeking the same from Faris. And raping her would not get her approval or her love.

  That was a bridge I’d have to cross when I came to it. Right now, I needed a baby. And a beer.

  I strolled into the dining room, carrying my beautiful daughter in my arms. I’d practically had to rip her out of Gemma’s but I’d called dibs in the well, so she had to give in. I couldn’t get enough of her. Of holding her. Of counting her fingers and toes, marveling at how long they were. She’d been swaddled in soft pink and gray and wore a crocheted beanie on her tiny head. Her fists were curled tight and resting on either side of her nose. It was the cutest thing ever. I’d been trying to figure out who she looked more like, but alas, I’d been in denial. Of course she looked like Reyes. Thick black hair. Impossibly long eyelashes. Straight, strong nose with a curve at the tip. Full, perfectly formed mouth. She was going to knock ’em dead. Like, literally. We’d have to teach her to use her powers for good.

  Garrett looked up and didn’t know which item to take from me first: Beep or the beer. He decided on Beep, then the beer. Probably a wise decision. As he bounced around with her, cooing about how she was going to save the world, I scanned the piles of copied documents. Many had Garrett’s handwriting on them. Since going to hell, compliments of Mr. Reyes Farrow, he’d been obsessed with the prophecies. With the past, as well, and the future, and how Beep would one day destroy the underworld.

  “So,” I said to him, thankful that Osh had left the building. Or at least the room. “I have a question for you.”

  “No.”

  Damn it. Osh had gotten to him.

  “Then give me back my kid.”

  He gasped at me melodramatically for Beep’s benefit, though she slept through his whole performance. “Already using your child to get what you want out of people. That’s shameful.” He looked down at Beep. “Your mother is like everyone at the nuthouse rolled into one. She’s a nut roll. Can you say ‘nut roll’?”

  Oh yeah. Garrett Swopes, the tough-as-nails bounty hunter who took bullets to the chest like others took splinters, had gone bye-bye.

  * * *

  I sat there for-like-ever while Garrett told Beep all kinds of stories about me that were mostly untrue. He tended to exaggerate. Honestly, like I would’ve gone out with Greg Nusser for backstage passes to Blue Öyster Cult. Not even. I went out with Brad Stark for the backstage passes to Blue Öyster Cult. I went out with Greg Nusser for tickets to 3 Doors Down.

  Denise came to get Beep then, saying it was time for her bath and I needed to learn how to bathe her. Like I didn’t know already. Sadly, it was much more complicated than I’d thought, mostly because a wet Beep was a slippery Beep. And she did not enjoy that one iota. Denise said she would grow to love bath time. Until then, I was totally investing in those noise-reduction headphones.

  Next Cookie came to hold her, because God forbid she feel the touch of a mattress on her back. Then she and Gemma took turns feeding then burping her all while I sat waiting for Reyes to go do something. He was spending all his time with Beep and me. What the hell? Did men do that?

  It was a nice feeling, though. All of us together like a real family, as opposed to one being held together with duct tape and hellhounds. Reyes made the most adorable dad, especially when he let her sleep on his chest as we sat in the theater and exposed her to the world of hobbits. His heat, I was sure, kept her toasty warm on the chilly autumn day.

  Then, when I least expected it, Uncle Bob came in for his turn at the little doughnut. That’s what he called her. She looked more like a cherry éclair to me. Reyes checked his watch and made some lame excuse about going for a run. He didn’t run unless being chased. And even then, running from danger had never been his strong suit.

  “Okay,” I said, a little too happy about it.

  He was totally meeting Angel again. I could tell. I could see it in his eyes.

  Oh well. His timing was perfect. I had a girl to save, and while I’d been hoping Kit would call with good news, we had yet to receive any news at all.

  I called her just to make sure they hadn’t found anything. They were still checking the area where Ellix had lived and worked.

  With no other choice, I went into the laundry room. People went in there only if they had actual laundry to do. They rarely just showed up for no reason. This was the most likely place I could try this thing without being interrupted. With Reyes secretly meeting my traitorous investigator, now was the perfect opportunity for me to take my plan for a test run. But I needed a little assistance first.

  I summoned Angel, just to make sure I wasn’t missing something before risking life and limb to break into hell.

  He popped in, his expression almost bored. At least he wasn’t annoyed.

  “Having a secret meeting with my husband?” I asked, my voice sharp with accusation and innuendo. Mostly accusation.

  “Man, pendeja, you think that all I do is your husband’s legwork?”

  “So, you’re not meeting with him right now?”

  “No. What the hell?”

  “Then who are you meeting with?”

  “I was checking out the chicks at the mall.”

  “Coronado or Cottonwood?”

  “Coronado, why?”

  “I miss the mall,” I said, suddenly nostalgic for the good old days when I could shop without being ripped apart. “Do they still have that store that sells those little ice cream dots? That is some crazy shit.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t eat.”

  “Right, so, can I visit someone in hell?”

  “Dude, I’m not saying it again. You can do anything—”

  I waved an impatient hand. “I know. I know. I can do anything. You keep telling me. But really, can I? And if you’re not having a secret meeting with Reyes, who is?”

  “Probably that old couple he keeps talking to.”

  I stilled. Like, for a really long time. Long enough for Angel to look worried.

  “What old couple?” I asked at last.

  “The one he keeps meeting with. I don’t know their names. They’re old.”

  I stilled again as my brain struggled for an explanation. Surely … No, he couldn’t know about the Loehrs. It was impossible. I’d met them for the first time just two days ago. “And how long has he been meeting with them?”

  “Couple of months. Why? Are you two getting a divorce?”

  “What?” Alarm ran rampant over my nerve endings, much like five-year-olds on a sugar rush. “Why would you say that? Did he say that?”

  “No,” Angel said, stepping closer. “I was just hoping you’d ditch him for someone more your age.”

  “I’m millions of years old.”

  He stepped so close, I had to look up at him, though not terribly. He was only a couple inches taller than me. “Age isn’t everything.”

  He had a gorgeous full mouth and clear brown eyes and if he didn’t stop hitting on me, I was going to—

&nbs
p; “Wait!” he said, sobering. “Did you say ‘hell’?

  “Yes,” I said, biting my lower lip.

  “You can’t just go to hell. There’s a void between here and there.”

  “But the map is imprinted on my husband’s body,” I explained.

  “Yes, on his. Not yours.”

  It was now or never. I closed my eyes. “Lucky for me, I have an excellent memory. If I don’t make it back, explain to Reyes I went to find Ellix.” I opened my eyes again. “But I’ll make it back. Give me two minutes.”

  I closed my eyes again, envisioned the map on Reyes’s torso, the one that would lead me through the void, and I fell into darkness.

  * * *

  Admittedly, I didn’t understand how the map worked. Not until I actually used it. There were paths, almost imperceptible paths, and I wound through them, meeting obstacle after obstacle, but knowing which way to turn, which opening to take. As long as I envisioned the map, as long as I let myself fall into it with complete and total faith that it would get me where I needed to go, I flew threw the void. It felt a lot like a head rush but it was all over my body. Tingling and cold. I hadn’t expected the cold. I felt a frost form over my skin, and yet I didn’t have skin here.

  I looked down and it cracked when I moved my hand, only to re-form, creating tiny crystals that spread over me, up my neck and over my face. But I kept envisioning the map, suddenly scared to death I’d get lost in the void. Reyes would find me, though. I knew he would find me if I did go astray. But another thing I didn’t count on was the audience I’d gained.

  I couldn’t see them, but I felt their glassy eyes watching me, their hot breath on the nape of my neck, the prickling of their teeth. Were these beings the demons that had become lost in the void? Were they still trying to make it to the earthly plane, I wondered, and if so, how long had they been there?