Rocks & Gravel (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 3) (25 page)

“We were,” she said. “Lonnie’s death did me in. I had no idea how to run King Ranch Chicken, so I hired somebody. The prick embezzled from the company. I’m on the verge of declaring bankruptcy and closing the doors. I doubt King Ranch Chicken will last another six months.”

“I’ve wanted you dead since I found out I was pregnant with you.” Barbie’s eyes glittered with hate. “I can’t wait for this.”

“Fuck you.” I wanted to beat Barbie until she couldn’t even grunt when I hit her. All these years and I never realized the bitch had been the one to rob me of my father.

Barbie slapped me hard enough for my teeth to cut the inside of my mouth. I spat blood in her face. She backed up and kicked me in the thigh, making the muscle seize. I writhed in pain and glared at her, wishing I could turn my hate into a death ray.

“Stop it,” Amanda yelled. “Let’s start the spell. Come over here and help me.”

“Wait, please.” My breath came in gasps and a lightheadedness had me so dizzy my thoughts were like helium balloons, floating off into the distance.

“Wait for what?” Amanda turned her back to me and dripped some of my blood on the mini treasure chest. The air in the little clearing came to life with power, as though Amanda had flipped a switch. A thunder of bird wings flapping filled my ears and dozens of black shapes lighted in the trees. Amanda craned her neck to look at them, her face turning white. Barbie shifted foot to foot, no longer focused on my fear and discomfort. The skin on my face had the pins and needles feeling I associated with a numb appendage. My raven tattoo flamed to life, itching as though it was brand new, even though I’d had it the better part of a decade. Amanda took her attention off the birds and went back to her altar, her movements hurried and clumsy.

“As my power meets Priscilla Herrera’s curse and Reginald Mace’s treasure, I release the guardians of darkness to go into this blood and its source, consuming it as your reward.” She closed her eyes and leaned back her head, repeating the words until they assumed an odd rhythm and made no sense.

The mini treasure box popped open, issuing the black smoke I remembered seeing when I solved my cousin Rae’s murder. The smoke curled and snaked around Amanda, making her hair move around her shoulders.

A distant shouting drew my attention away from the scene in front of me. Hoping someone somehow knew where I was, I peered into the thick woods. I heard the shout again and realized it was coming from somewhere closer. Remembering the mirror in which Amanda had trapped my father’s spirit, I turned my gaze onto it. Paul’s tiny figure beat at the glass from the inside, shouting something the distance between our dimensions kept me from hearing. If I’d had the black opal, maybe I could have heard him, but Amanda had it.

I tried again to will the black opal to me, straining with the effort until I shook. All I did was make the ravens holler louder. Amanda had to be using some kid of magic to keep the thing around her neck. Any other time, I’d have it as soon as I thought of it.

My daddy’s faint voice reached my ears again. I turned back to the mirror to see what he wanted. He did a crazy dance, running around and flapping his arms. Maybe the prospect of watching me die had driven him mad. I was mad, too, but mine was the kind where I wanted to give out knuckle sandwiches.

Amanda stood very still, eyes still closed, the black smoke wreathing her and moving around her like a pet snake. She’d taken everything from me. My relationship. My grandmother. Even my black opal. She attacked me and stole the cursed box. All so she could have the Mace Treasure. The treasure my family hid. The treasure my ancestor, Priscilla Herrera, cursed and died for. I’d die for it if Amanda had her way.

There she stood, preparing to take it all, as though it was hers by rights, and there was nothing I could do to stop her. I strained against my bonds again to see if they’d loosened. No such luck.

“Listen to me, guardians of the darkness. I release you from this task,” Amanda, the queen of stinky butt crack, intoned.

She’d take the treasure like it was hers all along, and there was nothing I could do. Was there? I glanced back at the mirror. My daddy stood where I could see him, still flapping his arms. The raven’s calls echoed from above me, as though reminding me just who the hell I was. Peri Jean Mace, by God, freak extraordinaire.

The black opal swung at Amanda’s neck, sparkling with magic. I mentally reached out to it again. Maybe I could use its power even if it hung around someone else’s neck. The sharp static of its magic connected with me in answer.
Amanda better get ready. I’m about to throw some fuckery her way.

I might not have training in casting magical spells, but Mysti said it was more about intent than anything else. I shut my eyes and concentrated on the thrum of power filling the clearing, the burn of magic from the black opal, and said the first thing I could think of.

“I, Peri Jean Mace claim the magic set forth by Priscilla Herrera, my ancestor, because the Mace Treasure is mine by rights and by blood. I order the guardians of darkness to attack this trespasser and to punish her for trying to steal from me.”

Amanda began to yell her incantation over mine, her voice strident and panicked. I responded by yelling back, repeating myself until my throat was raw. Soon, I noticed the flaw in my plan. Every time Amanda spoke, the black opal’s power waned. She used it to fuel her magic, too. I had to get it back. I concentrated on the power, pulling it as hard as I could.

“I want my damn black opal back,” I screamed.

Barbie yelled at me to shut up. I opened one eye to see her rearing back to kick me again. Behind her my daddy jumped up and down in the mirror, punching at it, trying to break it. I braced myself and took Barbie’s kick in my shin. Bitch kicked hard. The blow took my breath away and made me shudder.

“I want my black opal back,” I screamed again and imagined it around my neck.

A black shape flew out of the trees and descended on Amanda, wingspan hiding what it was doing. Amanda howled in pain and fury, her arms pin-wheeling. The bird let out a squawk, and flew away from her. It swooped down, diving toward me. Something hit my hand. I took my eyes off the bird and saw the black opal sitting there. Closing my eyes, I imagined the mirror smashing into a million little pieces and concentrated on the image until I heard a loud crack right near my head.

The shards of the mirror caught sunlight and sparkled as they dropped to the ground. Barbie’s eyes widened and rounded, her mouth dropping open. It would have been funny had I not seen the figure of a man rising from the broken glass. Paul doubled up his fists and charged in Barbie’s direction. She ran from him, and he followed. A figure stood at the door of the cabin, watching it all. She turned her head to stare at me, and her voice cut through the black opal’s static in my head.

“Keep saying it. Don’t let the other witch recover.”

I did. I repeated my made-up incantation again and again, while Barbie ran around screaming her empty head off.

“I, Peri Jean Mace, claim the magic set forth by Priscilla Herrera, my ancestor, because the Mace Treasure is mine by rights and by blood. I order the guardians of darkness to attack this trespasser and to punish her for trying to steal from me.”

The black smoke, which at first seemed to caress Amanda like a pet, changed before my eyes. It churned around her, tightening and squeezing as her eyes filled with horror and pain. She opened her mouth to scream, but her cheeks caved in, and her skin began to dry and flake.

Barbie sprinted around the cabin several times and was running out of steam. She stopped and gasped for breath, and Paul’s ghost jumped on her back. His see-through arms merged with hers. She shook him the way a dog shakes water off his back, but he hung on. My mother saw me watching.

“Peri Jean, sweetie, come help momma. I know you can do it.” The tears streamed down her face, but she tried to smile. “Please?”

“You tied me up.” I pushed against the bonds to show her. But the truth was, I wouldn’t have helped her even if I could have. She hated me. No matter what she promised, the time would come when I wind up dead by her hand.

Paul gained the upper hand and began to pull her into the earth an inch at a time. She whipped her arms and legs, her struggles only digging her deeper. The earth covered first her feet, then her calves, and rode up to her thighs like the swell of a gritty sea.

“You useless little brat. Use your magic to get loose and help me. Peri Jean Mace! I am talking to you.” Her eyes rolled from me to the dirt covering her and back again. Then the earth was over her torso and touching her collarbone. Her glare locked on me. “I wish I’d had an abortion. You weren’t worth any of it.”

She threw up her head and keened at the sky until a mouthful of dirt cut it off. The most horrifying part was the last few seconds view of the top of her head, the gray at the roots reminding me this was a human being. I wondered what she thought about as she choked to death on dirt. At the last second, a ghostly hand reached up from the dirt and pushed her the rest of the way under.

Heart pounding, fighting the blackness at the corners of my vision, I turned back to Amanda. One pain-filled eye rolled to stare at me. The black smoke had sucked her dry until she looked like she was the one dying of cancer. Something pulled my gaze back to the figure in the doorway of the cabin.

“Finish it,” said the disembodied voice in my head. I took a deep breath and yelled the words again.

“I, Peri Jean Mace, claim the magic set forth by Priscilla Herrera, my ancestor, because the Mace Treasure is mine by rights and by blood. I order the guardians of darkness to attack this trespasser and to punish her for trying to steal from me.”

The ravens flew from the trees, seeming to number in the hundreds. They swarmed around Amanda, pecking at her flaking skin, eating bits of her. I had to turn away when one of them ripped out her eyeball.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder. My body jolted, using the last bit of adrenaline I had left. I screamed. It was girly, and it was weak, but I was too tired to keep myself from it.

“It’s all right.” Wade Hill pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipped it open, and sawed at my bonds. “I’m here. I got you.”

He cut through the ropes and unwound me, dragging me a short distance from the melee. We crouched together watching in horror as the ravens consumed the rest of their meal, croaking at each other. I checked the cabin to see if Priscilla Herrera’s ghost still watched, but it was empty. I hoped she was gone for good but bet my last twenty dollar bill she’d be back.

The ravens consumed all there was to eat of Amanda King, fighting over the leftover bits. They flew away a couple at a time until only one remained. He watched me out of one eye, the way birds do, tilting his head at me.

“Thank him,” Wade whispered.

I gave the bird a nod of appreciation, and it flew away. The old homesite felt different than when I first stepped foot into it an eternity ago. It felt almost peaceful, no longer a haunted, spooky place, but just an old place with an abandoned house on it.

“We’ve got to clean up this mess,” Wade said.

There was really not much left to show Amanda or Barbie had ever been to the site. Amanda’s candles and her goblet and dagger went into the Nova’s trunk. I’d figure out what to do with them later. I knew I didn’t want to keep them. No telling what kind of evil she’d managed with them. Wade and I packed my belongings—the cursed mini treasure chest and the spell book—into the passenger seat of my car.

“Do you think we can break into Amanda’s house? She must have Eddie’s treasure notes. If I don’t get them now, it’ll end up being an ordeal.”

“What makes you think I know how to break into anybody’s house?” He frowned at me.

“Please.” I rolled my eyes at him. “She lives at the end of this road. Nobody’ll see us.”

Turned out, we didn’t need to break in. We let ourselves in the unlocked front door. The state of things indicated Amanda’d left in a hurry. She must have felt it when I broke the memory spell and came running.

We found Eddie’s research trunk and the Bruce family’s journals in Amanda’s study and carried them out to my car. I didn’t want any stuff belonging to me or my friends to ride in the trunk with Amanda’s candles and dagger and goblet, so I returned those to her study. By the time I came back out, Wade had Eddie’s trunk in my car. Neither of us spoke on the ride back to his motorcycle. He started to get out of the car, but I grabbed his arm to stop him.

“How’d you find me?” I turned to Wade.

“Last year when I lost you, it scared the shit out of me.” He pulled a muslin bag out of his pocket and waved it at me.” I made this little bag as sort of a homemade tracking device.”

“What’s it got in it?”

“You,” he said. “Beyond that, you don’t want to know.”

“That why the Six Guns call you Mojo?” I gave him my patented Don’t Fart In My Car glare. “And don’t say it’s a trade secret.”

He leaned his head back on the seat rest and stared at me, his eyes hooded. A long silence passed. He swallowed hard. “Yeah. Some of it.”

I took my hand off his arm, and we went our separate ways.

O
n the way home
, I made a stop by Eddie’s trailer and used my key to let myself in. Breaking the mirror where Amanda trapped my father set him free. If Eddie was trapped in the mirror where I saw him, I wanted to do the same for him. I walked through the stifling tin can, the smell of mildew nearly overpowering me, and stopped short at the end of the hall. The remains of the antique mirror lay on the carpet in sparkling shards as though something had burst out of it.

“Eddie? Did you hang around?”

No answer. The hurt welled up inside me and overflowed. I slumped back to the front door, tears spilling down my cheeks. Everything I loved and cherished was lost to me. I closed my hand on the doorknob’s warm metal, and a freezing hand fell on my shoulder.

“Loved you like you’s my own,” said Eddie’s voice. The hand squeezed.

I spun to face him, to say all I needed to say, but he was already gone.

I drove home crying and sat in my car a long time after I got there. The house looked so empty and deserted. Finally, I made myself go inside.

The numbness I felt right after Memaw’s death returned in full force. I couldn’t manage to do any more than to go sit in Memaw’s room, looking at her things, and wishing she were with me again. My phone beeped, and I realized I’d been hearing and ignoring its intermittent beep for hours. I had a dozen missed calls and four messages, most of them from Hannah. I needed to call her but wasn’t ready yet.

My body felt like it had gone ten rounds with an iron gorilla. Scratches and bruises covered every visible inch of skin. The hand Amanda gashed to do her spell throbbed. I needed to find my own way to close the cut or go to the hospital and get stitches. However bad my body felt, my mind hurt worse. It snarled like a hundred snakes with their tails tangled. Past events flashed before my eyes, making more sense than ever, my reaction to some of them causing me great shame. I hunched over and hugged myself but found no comfort.

The boom of a vehicle’s door slamming pulled me from my pity party, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror over Memaw’s dresser. Tear streaks shone on my cheeks. Someone knocked on the door. I rushed to answer, rubbing the tears off my cheeks and wishing I could ignore the knock.

I opened the door to find Wade Hill on my porch.

“Did you forget something?”

“No.” He picked up two suitcases. “I’m here to stay. I’m your new roommate.” He came toward me, and all I could do was step out of his way or get run over.

“No, you’re not. I don’t want a roommate.” I followed him down the hallway where he stood in the open doorway of my bedroom.

“I’ll take this one. I’m afraid I’ll ruin your grandmother’s furniture.”

“But I don’t want a roommate,” I repeated.

“Read this.” He pushed an envelope at me and headed back out the door, probably to bring more of his crap into my house. I tore open the envelope, recognizing the handwriting immediately. Tears stung my eyes as I read.

Peri Jean,

If you’re reading this, I am dead. I hope my dying went quick and didn’t cause you too much trouble. I know my time is about up because even I, who can’t see ghosts like you can, have caught glimpses of your grandfather wandering around, waiting to help me make the passage. George was such a nice man. I’ve missed him greatly and am looking forward to seeing him once more.

Now let’s get down to business.

First thing’s first, let Wade move in. Please. His special gift gave me a few extra months with you. This was the only way I knew to repay him. Took me forever to get him to agree, but I know he needs this. Now, I can no longer force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I wish you’d at least give it a try. I think the two of you could be good for each other. If you don’t kill each other being stubborn.

This second thing’s a little harder.

You know what’s funny about life, my beautiful granddaughter? You’ve got things you know you ought to do. You’ve got plenty of time to do those things. But you end up letting the clock run down and never do them. If I could offer you any one piece of life advice it would be to do it all before it’s too late. Experience everything you can, even if it ends up making you want to curl up in a ball and die.

I am telling you this because it goes against everything I taught you ever since I took custody of you. After seeing what I saw growing up, hearing my parents’ stories, and then seeing it happen to you when you told your schoolmates about seeing Adam Kessler’s ghost, I thought the way to protect you was to teach you to hide what you are.

You were such a good student. You built a wall around yourself and did everything you could to keep people out. I thought this was the truth of your existence. It made me sad because I knew most people would never understand how special and kind you are, but I thought your survival depended on keeping yourself separate.

Then your cousin got murdered, and you took it on yourself to solve the murder. Somehow, your wall started crumbling then, and people started coming in. I could see how special you were to them and how special they were to you.

Then I saw the way you tried to make yourself normal for these friends of yours. Especially for Dean.

(Another thing I know if you have this letter in your hands is you and Dean are finished. I don’t know how it happened, but I can guess why.)

I wanted so much to tell you to just be yourself and let Dean work out his own issues. I couldn’t because you were right in the middle of being in love with him, and the timing was wrong. He needed you to be a certain way so he could love you. If you were willing to try, who was I to preach at you? I spent my entire adult life trying not to be the person I was born as.

Since you and Dean are finished, let me tell you what I wanted to tell you the whole time you were with him.

Be who you are without apology. Never, ever let someone else try to change the core of what you are. Just like a tiger can’t change his stripes, you will never change being able to communicate with the spirit world. You have more otherworldly power than anybody I’ve ever seen, including my mama. Don’t ruin your life trying to be what someone else thinks you ought to be. Learn who you are and live your life for you.

I’ve done my best to keep you away from my family for your own good. But if you want to learn who you are, they might be a good place for you to start. Look for them, and you’ll find each other. If you’re going to do this, be careful. Listen to your inner voice. Look for danger and run if you see it coming.

Third thing. Your uncle Jesse said he told you about the tattoos. It is a mark many members of my family carry. My mama told me our family had a long relationship with the raven, going back before her family ever came to this country. She believed the birds brought her messages from the spirit world. She said sometimes they offered protection. When I was growing up, they were always around, even when we lived places ravens weren’t supposed to be.

When I grew up and moved away from my family, I left behind the ravens, too. I never saw them again until you were born. Then they came, looking in the window at you, watching you play. I shooed them away, even shooting at them. Finally, they stayed away. My life is drawing to a close, though, and I see them more and more. Make your own choice about your kinship with them. It’s in your blood.

Love now and forever, my darling girl,

Memaw

Wade tromped into the house with a box of junk, stopping to stare at me, asking me silently if he could stay. I simply stared at him, too shocked and tired to commit to anything. He went to my bedroom. I followed and watched him put down the box, which held books. Lots of them.

“I don’t want a roommate,” I said again.

“You’ve said that twice now.” He opened one of my dresser drawers and made a face at the clothes inside. “I can help you move your stuff into Miss Leticia’s room if you want.”

“I don’t want—”

“A roommate,” he finished. “Even if Miss Leticia—your memaw—hadn’t insisted on this arrangement, it would be a cold day in hell before I left you out here in the woods to walk around like a zombie. Let me stay a month, get you through the worst of this. If either of us hates it, I’ll go.”

Anger flashed over me. Finally, an emotion I knew how to express. I marched into the room, yanking a drawer out of the dresser and carrying it into Memaw’s room and dumping it on the bed.

“Don’t get mad at me.” Wade followed me through the house and into Memaw’s room. “I know this is a big change. Like I said, if either of us hates it, I’m gone.” He turned me in his arms and held me tight. I pushed against him at first, but he wouldn’t let go, so I gave up and let him hold me. I laid my head on his chest and breathed in his scent. Sunshine, open road, and gasoline. I closed my eyes and hugged him back. We separated, and I sat on the bed. Wade sat on Memaw’s vanity bench. He looked like a gorilla on a tricycle.

“Why do you need a place to stay?”

He shrugged.

“You’re not going to tell me.”

“Miss Leticia said you’d have a hard time keeping up this place alone, and she hated to think about you out here alone after she was gone.”

There was more to it than he was telling. Memaw’s letter implied she believed she was doing Wade a favor. I let it go for the moment because I didn’t have the energy to fight with him. Whatever the reasons Wade needed a place to live, Memaw’d been right. The cost of maintenance on an old house would be too much for me alone. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to live with Wade. His Six Gun Revolutionaries stuff aside, I wasn’t sure what he expected from a female roommate.

“Don’t expect me to clean up after you, do your laundry, or cook for you. I’m not your maid—” I broke off as another thought crept into my mind, this one more primal. I stared at the tuft of black hair peeking out of the collar of Wade’s shirt and inhaled his musky scent.

“I don’t expect any of it.” He gave me a raunchy grin accompanied by a stinky wink. “Or the other you’re thinking about but are too chicken to say.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” My cheeks burned at being caught, but I’d never admit to it.

“It is all over your face.” He laughed. “You could never play poker. Listen to me. I want friendship more.”

I gave up and went into the bathroom. I washed the grime off the cut on my hand. The wound hung open. It needed stitches. To hell with that. I wasn’t going back to the hospital. I glanced at the door. Wade could heal it.

Then, I thought about him puking off the stage the night before. The magic had been hard on him, maybe even hurt him. No. I could handle this myself.

I dug under the sink until I found a bottle of alcohol. Jaw clenched, I poured it onto the cut, taking shallow breaths until I knew I wouldn’t scream. Once I could move, I took a much needed shower. I looked like I’d crawled out of a grave and smelled worse. It was time for the bad part.

I removed the brand new tube of super glue I kept for this purpose from the medicine cabinet and cut off the top. Gritting my teeth, I pushed the edges of the cut together, and spread the glue over it. This burned a thousand times worse than the alcohol. I used every ounce of my self-control to not let even a single moan escape. When the glue was dry, I bandaged the hand.

Wade coaxed me into cleaning out the rest of Memaw’s clothes and personal belongings. While her bedclothes washed and dried, we polished all her furniture and cleaned the floor. By the time we remade the bed, the room was like a new place. I moved what little I owned in there and took a long, slow look around.

I’d always loved this bedroom furniture. It had much more character than the cheap, mass-produced particleboard set in my old room. Wade got one of his books and sat down at the kitchen table, smoking and reading.

Someone knocked on the door. Wade stood faster than I thought a man his size capable and put one hand under his jacket. Who was he expecting?

I turned on the porch light and opened the door. Hooty and Rainey and Hannah stood on the porch, their faces drawn and long. I shifted on my feet, suddenly too hot. I should have called one of them.

“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this.” Hannah drew me into a hug. “I know what happened with Dean.”

“It’s all over town, of course.” Rainey made a face and shook her head.

“We wanted to give you your space,” Hooty said. “Then none of us ever heard anything. We were worried.” He tapped a file on his leg. “Plus, I need to look over Miss Leticia’s funeral arrangements with you.”

“Come in.” I held the door open.

They filed in. Hannah’s eyes widened at the sight of Wade sitting in the kitchen smoking and reading. She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to one side. If I hadn’t felt so shitty, I’d have laughed. Neither Hooty nor Rainey showed any reaction to Wade. Either they’d seen so much weirdness from other people in their lives they didn’t care, or Memaw had spoken to them about her plans. Wade nodded at our visitors but went right back to his book.

“I’ve got something for the two of you,” I said to Hooty and Rainey and left the room. I came back carrying Hezekiah Bruce’s journals. Father and daughter leapt to their feet, faces split in smiles. Their voices tumbled over each other as they asked too many questions at once.

I tried explaining what happened. At the end of my story, all three of my friends sat in stunned silence.

“Should we call the sheriff’s office?” Hannah asked. “Tell them what happened to Amanda and Barbie?”

Rainey pressed her lips together and glared at Hannah. “What do you think the answer really is? We can’t tell anybody what happened to them.”

“Eventually, they’ll be reported missing,” Hooty said. “We’re all likely to be questioned.”

“We’ll work it out when we get to it,” Rainey said. “No need to worry about something we can’t change.”

“If it’s settled, I have something I need to tell the three of you.”

Three sets of eyes focused on me, all wary about what I might say next.