The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2) (12 page)

BOOK: The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2)
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Thirty-Nine

 

Th
e
next one hundred and twenty seconds were over in a flash.

Eddie faced Tony in the hallway outside Ana’s apartment.

Tony’s hands were on his hips and he leaned forward. From that stance, he could easily throw the first punch.

Eddie folded his arms so his hands were closer to his face. “You narced on me to Whitmore when I didn’t even smoke up.”

“Wha—”

“Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

Tony hesitated, just long enough for Eddie to know he was lying. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

Eddie got right in his face then. “Shut up you piece of shit and listen to me. I know it was you that lied to Whitmore. Nobody else had any reason to. I get anymore flak from Deputy Dog over this and I’m going to put you in the hospital.”

The law of averages got everybody. Tony had been in trouble with the law before, so it stood to reason he was again. The only way to get out of trouble was to throw somebody else under the bus. Who better than Eddie, the drifter, the guy Whitmore already didn’t like?

Tony laughed nervously, obviously deciding whether to fight or flee. He looked over Eddie’s shoulder down the hallway. Eddie could read the guy’s mind. There were too many potential witnesses and Ana was only a door away. Tony was smart enough to have understood the connection between her and Eddie, and knew firsthand of the spiraling relationship between her and Jimbo. If she got involved she wouldn’t have Tony’s back.

“You try anything with me and you’ll regret it, you old fuck,” Tony said.

Eddie smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Another time, another place.”

Tony looked like a spring-loaded trap ready to snap. He was all nervous energy. That smile was gone. Maybe he was going to fight.

Eddie could feel the punch coming, but then the apartment door swung open and there was Ana.

“Everything okay out here, guys?”

Eddie smiled but kept his eyes on Tony. “Everything’s fine, Ana. I was just leaving.”

Forty

 

Coli
n
Winspear went room-to-room in his house to make sure nothing had been taken or tampered with. As an ex-con, he’d learned to trust nobody.

Satisfied his possessions were intact, Colin plopped down on the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table. His ankles were a bit raw from the night’s bondage session, so he pulled up his pants and gently rubbed them. A fiery red ring circled both his ankles from where Angie, if that was even her real name, had tied him up.

God, he loved the internet. It had made hooking-up so much easier. Given how rural the area was, he hadn’t expected to find that many local women into the no-strings kinky stuff, but he happily discovered how wrong he was. There were plenty. Women that didn’t even want to know your name. Women that liked being humiliated. Women that enjoyed humiliating.

Colin got off with both kinds. He’d always been that way. It didn’t bother him.

The night’s carnal pleasures, however, weren’t enough to take his mind off what Eddie had told him. How was it possible the guy hadn’t heard anything? Colin should have called Marty, but it was late and he didn’t want to ruin a great fucking night with worry.

He’d figure it out tomorrow.

He got off the couch and headed for the stairs.

Bump
.

He stopped, wondering if he was hearing things. It sounded like someone was in the backyard.

He waited.

Bahhh-ummm.

What the hell was that?

Colin entered the kitchen and peered out the back window. It was pitch black outside. He checked the switch and realized the floodlight should have been on. Maybe the bulb had burned out. It had been awhile since he’d changed it.

He put his face up to the window. It was probably just an animal making the noise. One time, a bear had literally knocked on his front door.

But he saw nothing when he looked out the window.

He went to his cabinet and grabbed the shotgun. Then he went to the back door, grabbing the flashlight on the way, and went outside.

It was a cold, moonless night. Nearby the creek gurgled, and the wind moaned. He shivered.

Colin pumped the shotgun and waited for another sound.

An animal darted across his yard along the tree line and disappeared in the woods. It moved so fast that he didn’t capture it with his flashlight. He swore it had looked like a stray dog. His nearest and only close neighbors didn’t have any pets.

It was too cold to chase any strays. It was time for bed. Tomorrow he’d give Kindler a call and maybe together they could—

There was a noise from the woods. It sounded like someone moaning.

Colin frowned and moved toward the sound. He kept his flashlight pinned to the barrel of his shotgun and kept the barrel trained ahead of him as he approached the creek. He couldn’t see anyone, but there was definitely a noise. A low moan like someone was barely conscious and in pain.

He stopped short of the creek and swept the woods with his flashlight. The moaning stopped. Colin listened intently, waiting for it to start again.

He took a step to his right to get a different view, and the moaning started again. It was coming from the other way. Colin took three quick steps to his left and thought he saw—

Something grabbed his ankles and yanked him upside down into the air. He screamed but it was useless.

Nobody would hear him.

Forty-One

 

Eddi
e
pulled into Elsie’s driveway. A dim, flickering light played out the large bay window that opened to the living room of the rancher. He couldn’t see Elsie but knew she was there.

He sat in his car and remembered the sexual heat this woman exuded. She was built for pleasure. Large boned and amply breasted where Ana was petite and slender.

Why was he thinking about Ana at a time like this?

He got out of the car. Before he reached the front door it swung open and there she stood in a white satin teddy that barely covered her undercarriage. The cold air brought her nipples to attention. She had let her hair down and was holding a glass of red wine.

She smiled. “You’re late.”

“As a friend of mine used to say, you’re not late until you show up.”

She moved back into the house, affording him a view of her well-rounded ass.

“Hello,” he said.

“You coming in?”

“Just admiring the view.”

She smiled prettily at him and he stepped inside. She looked five years younger in her sexy get-up than she had at Vic’s store. She half-turned and looked over her shoulder at him.

“Like what you see?”

“I’d like to see more.”

“Would you like a glass of—”

He shut the door behind him and encircled her in his arms as he sought her lips.  She was momentarily startled but got into the moment soon enough. They somehow stumbled into the bedroom as Eddie tried to yank the teddy over her head and she fumbled with his zipper, both giggling and breathing hard. They fell onto the bed and she got out of that teddy. As he looked at her fully naked, his need for her consumed him. He struggled out of his clothes and they went at each other like beasts. She smelled wonderful and she made the right noises at the right moment. Afterwards he leaned on his left elbow to look at her. A sheen of sweat covered that luscious body.

“Next time we’ll take our time,” Eddie said.

She giggled. “How soon till the next time?”

“About twenty minutes.”

They both laughed.

She said, “I think I’m going to enjoy you, Eddie.” She got out of bed and asked from the living room, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

She returned a few moments later and handed him a glass of wine. She made no move to cover herself which suited Eddie fine. He took a sip of the wine and put the glass on the nightstand and looked at her stretched out on the bed.

“You know, Eddie, you’re the talk of the town right now.”

He laughed. “I’m hardly worthy of it.”

“The jury’s still out on that … so how is the investigation going?”

“It’s going.”

“Can you be more specific?”

He toyed with her left breast. “Sorry.”

She sighed her contentment. “I won’t tell anybody. You can trust me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Come on, Eddie.” Her hand found his groin, and he was ready for lift-off again. “Tell me something.”

“Sorry, honey.” He slid his hand down her flank, felt the velvet softness of her. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Well in that case, would you like to fuck me again?”

Appropriately enough, Eddie thought about a line from one of the Ghostbuster movies. “Is this a trick question?”

They joined again and he wondered in her body but still he compared her to how he imagined Ana to be. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Forty-Two

 

Sea
n
McKenna couldn’t stop thinking about something either. And it had bothered him for years.

Because of Eddie McCloskey, his son was dead.

Now, Eddie hadn’t put the knife to Steven. Eddie’s guilt was more indirect, but it was there all the same. He and his brother had gone poking their noses in Sean’s family’s business, triggering a psychotic break in Sean’s nephew Eamon, and Eamon had gone on a killing spree.

That Eamon had also killed Eddie’s brother, Tim, meant nothing to Sean. It had been their own fault. They’d intruded. They’d suffered for it.

But not enough.

Sean dreamed of putting a knife in Eddie. Of shooting him in the gut. Of killing him with his bare hands. Painful, slow.

Once Sean had caught wind of the electronic chatter online and heard where Eddie McCloskey was, he’d dropped everything. He had been in the middle of cooking dinner but instead turned the stove off and packed five days’ worth of casual clothes and grabbed the unregistered gun he’d purchased illegally just in case this opportunity ever presented itself and jumped in his car.

He sped within reason and reached Wilkes-Barre in under three hours. He found a cheap motel and paid for three nights in cash and gave the manager a fake name. He didn’t want to get a room in the town where Eddie was. It was safer this way, and he was only twenty minutes away.

Sean took the key from the manager and walked to the room like he was turning in. But he wasn’t. He kept his clothes in the car, not wanting to leave any personal effects in case he had to run. He walked around the building and came back to his car.

He was in no hurry. He’d waited this long, now he could wait another few days. But he pushed on because he wanted to locate Eddie as soon as possible.

He drove to the town where he knew Eddie was living. He didn’t have an address but he could get one pretty easily. A lowlife like Eddie would spend most of his time in bars, slowly poisoning himself with alcohol.

It was a good thing Eddie wasn’t dead yet. Sean had wondered for the last few years where he’d pop up. Ex-cons didn’t have too many choices. They could take whatever shitty minimum wage job they could find or they could drop off the grid altogether. Sean had feared that he’d never find Eddie.

He kept it to the speed limit. Sean didn’t need to meet the local police department. He needed anonymity. He needed to slip in, settle his account with Eddie, and slip out quietly.

Then he could drop off the grid.

He reached the town limits and immediately started looking for the center of the town, where he could find a bar. There was nowhere else open at this hour for him to get information.

He made a right and drove down a stretch of road. The treeline broke and darkened houses zipped past. A few minutes later, he came to an intersection where he was forced to turn. He chose left and finally he saw street lights ahead. He passed a row of dark offices, a mechanic’s garage, an all-night gas station, a fast food joint, then another row of offices till he spotted a bar on the corner.

He found a spot and slotted the car.

The pub was a medium-sized joint with a long bar, a broken juke box, and three pool tables. There were jerseys hanging on the walls and other cheap sports memorabilia and the TVs were tuned to the sports channels.

There were plenty of openings at the bar so he sat down. The female bartender was wearing a white tank top over a black bra and tiny, ripped jean shorts and gave him a once over as she approached.

“What can I get you?” she asked in a neutral voice.

“Lager.”

“Draft or bottle?”

He gave her his salesman’s smile. “Gotta go draft.”

She bobbed her head. “You’re a man after my own heart.”

Sean turned and looked around. He didn’t want to appear too anxious to start a conversation. A few moments later, he heard the pint glass clink on the bar behind him.

He turned and gave the bartender another smile. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s happy hour. One-fifty.”

“It’s happy hour right now?” he said.

She winked. “It’s always happy hour in here.”

Sean didn’t drink alcohol normally. He’d been into bodybuilding since he was sixteen and he shied away from the empty calories of a beer can.

But tonight, he’d indulge himself.

He deserved it. Everything else had gone to hell since his son’s death. His friendships. His career.

His marriage.

The only thing that had kept him sane was moving iron. When most builders his age were just looking to stave off atrophy, he’d actually gotten bigger and increased his vascularity over the last five hellish years.

The bartender came back over. She absently washed a pint glass and offered him a tired smile.

“So what brings you here?” the bartender said.

“All this alleged paranormal activity.”

“You and everybody else.”

“Like who?”

“Some college kids came in asking about it.”

He shrugged in an aw-shucks kind of way. “It’s a hobby. Did you ever hear about the faces of Belmez?”

She shook her head no and looked mildly interested.

“Long story short, these faces started appearing on the floor of this woman’s kitchen in Spain. She replaced the floor but they’d come back. Some would disappear and reappear. This all happened over thirty-some years.”

“You’re kidding.”

He told himself to act more excited. This was his cover, after all. A paranormal whack-job who spent all his time in the basement, either talking to an empty room or jerking off.

“A lot of different people came through the house and tested the floor. One guy sealed it off, so it couldn’t be tampered with, but when they unsealed it, they discovered that new faces had popped up.”

“That’s crazy.” She stepped closer. “I’ll bet it was all a fraud.”

“Some people think that. One explanation was that the homeowners used some kind of chemical agent on the cement. After exposure to light, the agent would change the structure of the concrete.”

“Wow. You know a lot about this stuff.” She sounded sincere. “Maybe you should help the ghost-hunter here.”

“You know, it’s funny you say that.” Sean laughed nervously, like she’d caught him out. Then he leaned in and motioned for her to come closer.

She turned sideways and leaned against the bar.

He lowered his voice. “I’m actually a fan of his. I was hoping he could sign a book for me.”

“He wrote a book?” she said.

“No, but he’s in a book. He ever come around here?”

She nodded. “He’s been a couple times, but I’m told he goes to George’s usually.”

He asked her where George’s was and she told him. Then she had to wait on one of the old-timers and he was alone with his beer.

Sean took a sip and closed his eyes ad smiled. He was close. Oh so close to Eddie McCloskey now.

Sean McKenna would have his revenge.

BOOK: The Lost: Book Two, The Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 2)
3.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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