Read A Cold Day in Hell Online

Authors: Stella Cameron

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

A Cold Day in Hell (23 page)

BOOK: A Cold Day in Hell
3.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
29

E
ileen felt a warm weight pressed against her side, resting on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, or the right one. The lid on her left eye wouldn’t work, and it hurt to try.

Pain.

Thumping in her head, like before. When was before? She let her open eye move over rocks and plants silvered by the moon. There had been another time when she’d woken up—earlier—she didn’t look at anything then. But she heard sounds, as she heard them now, only there were more of them all the time.

She moved the fingers of each hand, bent her left elbow, and shifted her head slowly to look down—and opened her mouth to scream.

An animal lay there, its head on her shoulder, its bright eyes looking into her face. Eileen choked down the noise rising in her throat. Wild animals didn’t strike if you held really still. No, that wasn’t right. Wild animals ate dead things.

She shuddered and the creature got up, sat beside her. It lowered its face closer to hers and she did scream, and close her eye tightly. The hammering in her head felt as if it kept pace with a heart that beat so hard it ached. Her whole body ached.

Breath crossed her cheek, then the animal licked her and licked her again. It’s cold, wet nose met her skin and sniffed. And then, more licking.

Eileen dared to look again, and she saw how the moon made the animal’s eyes silver, too, and its coat.

Locum.
“Locum?”

She got another lick.

Slowly, Eileen curled around and pushed herself up to sit. Locum stayed where he was, watching. She held out a hand and the dog nuzzled her palm.

The sound of water intruded again. Not far away, she thought it must be Bayou Nezpique, but supposed it could be just about anywhere. She sat among shallow puddles with clumps of rough grasses and creeper vines running in every direction. The area she could see fairly clearly was small, then as she raised her chin, recoiled from the immediate crash in her brain, and glimpsed the contorted upper branches of cypress trees, black against a paler sky. Heavy beards of Spanish moss swayed.

This was swampland.

Two
was all the man said as he’d thrown her into the van. Small boxes made of thin cardboard had collapsed beneath her and she’d heard her stock crack and shatter. But she hadn’t heard any more. A film had coated her vision and she’d felt herself slip away.

Locum came closer. He raised a paw and she held it, but there was urgency in him now, Eileen felt it. She also felt how sodden her jeans and shirt were, but at least her sneakers were still firmly tied on her feet.

After nudging her again, he withdrew a few feet, pointed his body away and looked back at her,

“Don’t go,” she told him and he ran back to butt her with his head. Away he went again, not far, and turned his head to stare at her with his light eyes. He was trying to get her to follow him.

Gradually, she rose on shaky legs and chafed her arms, nervous about attempting to walk.

Thoughts came faster. “How did you know where to find me?” she asked Locum, who kept staring at her. Prickling ran rapidly up her spine and the hairs on her neck stood up. Goose bumbs covered her, but being cold and wet could account for that.

Gingerly, she started to walk. Her only injury seemed to be on her brow and inside her head. But whatever had hurt her face could make her brain painful. Locum repeatedly ran a little and returned. At last he sat again, but not near her this time.

She tried to smile but her left eye stopped her. Very carefully, she touched that eye and found it hugely swollen. Crusty matter lined the opening. More crust clung to her forehead but when she pressed it lightly, she felt fluid on her fingers and peered at them. Blood, there was no doubt of that.

“Okay, lead on, Locum,” she said.

He led and she followed, watching the dog, watching the ground, afraid of tripping and afraid of coming upon a snake or a rat. Things struck and killed around here and death didn’t come easily.

They went over fallen trees, Locum jumping, Eileen putting down a supporting hand and climbing carefully. In places she squelched into mud and faltered, nervous that she’d slip down.

With each passing minute, she thought more clearly. She remembered the fair, and Angel trying to persuade her not to go to the van until he could go with her.

She should have listened to Angel, she should always listen to him. And deliberately sneaking off while he wasn’t there had been wrong. A frown made her cry out, “Ouch,” and Locum returned to her side. She stroked him and he set off again.

Listening to Angel all the time wouldn’t work. He didn’t always get everything right—just most of the time.

He had said something about a bad
feeling
he’d had, but she didn’t believe in those things.

An owl hooted and Eileen slapped a hand over her heart. Without Locum she just knew she’d die out here because she wouldn’t know where to go or have the guts to risk the things she could encounter.

The next time Angel got one of his bad feelings, maybe she’d take more notice—whether she believed in such possibilities or not. When she’d pushed him about what he’d meant, he looked distant, the way he could when he had decided he didn’t feel like talking about something anymore. That habit needed fixing.

She shook her head—not a good idea. Angel DeAngelo wouldn’t change anything about himself unless he wanted to.

Locum stopped again and she caught up with him. A tinkling sound came to her, as if the breeze jostled little bells. In the distance she thought she saw the sheen of light high up between trees and leaned against a cypress, fighting panic in case she was losing consciousness again.

Sudden baying from the dog shook her. Locum raised his head and howled. If she could, Eileen would hide.

Someone or something came in her direction. The dog sat quiet, sniffing the air. Rather than just the tinkling bells Eileen continued to hear, dull clacking and the jangle of different bells joined the cacophony. The noise approached her. She couldn’t move at all, could only stare in front of herself and wait, unable to take a breath.

A figure appeared, shifting through tree trunks, walking as if the way were smooth with no obstacles in its path. “Don’t be afraid,” a great, deep voice called. “It’s Chuzah.”

Relief made her weak. She swayed, but bent over until blood returned to her head. Now she saw him almost clearly. What rattled was a belt of tiny bones and bells fasted loosely around a voluminous kaftan. He wore a tall turban and when he was close enough, his white teeth showed in a wide smile.

On his hands were tight white gloves, and white socks were his only footwear. Eileen thought that out-of-character for a man who liked to go barefoot out here and who delighted in showing off his dramatic fingernails.

“Thank you for coming to help me,” she said and worried she would start crying and never stop. “Locum found me.”

Chuzah nodded and took a final stride, bending to pick her up at the same time. “I will take you home. It’s close. Then we will let everyone know you are safe. Those who wish you harm are still abroad and we must all be watchful.”

“What do they want?” Eileen said, happy to be carried.

“They confuse me,” Chuzah said. “I mean the possible motives for what’s going on confuse me, but you might have died in the swamp. Whoever left you there made no attempt to ensure your eventual safety.”

Her teeth chattered together. “No,” she agreed.

Chuzah fell silent and rapidly covered the way until he broke from the trees near to his house on stilts. The fairy lights shone in their uneven loops and a glow showed inside the windows. “You will soon feel much improved,” Chuzah said.

“I already do.”

“There are things I must deal with to make sure there is no real damage,” he responded. “And then I have more work. I hope I have the strength or someone else may not be as fortunate as you. The next victim might die.”

30

M
att’s office felt stuffy. Jalousies on the high windows were open but air wasn’t circulating. Voices bounced between angry people; each had a point to make, for or against. Most were for Angel taking Aaron and Sonny and going out to Chuzah’s to pick up Eileen. But they were also against anyone going without Matt and Officer Sampson and even more backup.

And Matt demanded to go in first, in case they met with force.

Matt was ready to arrest Chuzah for attacking and abducting Eileen.

“We’ll go alone,” Angel said, not for the first time. He was incensed by Matt’s hasty judgment. “We know Chuzah and he cares about people—he doesn’t look for ways to hurt them. Eileen said Locum found her and barked until Chuzah came to see what was up. How do you get from there to Chuzah being a criminal?”

“Chuzah shows up wherever there’s trouble.” Matt banged a fist on his desk. “You’re not thinking. You don’t want to face the probable truth. Chuzah is crazy—I told you that already. We know how he supposedly found Aaron out there and made sure he was okay. Now it’s Eileen. He—or his damn dog, for God’s sake—found her. This time it was Eileen who was unconscious and came around in time to be rescued by that voodoo peddler. Know what I think? I think this is all a publicity stunt. The man’s reputation must be slipping, so he’s doing this stuff to grab the limelight.”

“Have you finished?” Angel said. “If so, I’m leaving.”

“I agree with Matt,” Chuck shouted angrily.

Angel hadn’t seen him come into the office. A glance around showed there were a number of people Angel hadn’t realized were there.

He bent over Matt. “Can we get rid of folks who don’t need to be here?”

“You can’t blame the town for getting riled up. We’ve had a lot of events that scared people pretty badly.”

Using Matt’s pen, Angel jabbed at the pages of an open notebook. “There’s been a murder,” he said, keeping his voice down. “That was the same night Emma got pushed around. Have you figured out if that killing was connected to Emma? Or if it could be connected to what happened with Aaron and Sonny, then Eileen and me? Or to Eileen tonight?”

“Have
you?
” Matt glared at ink dots all over his notes and yanked the pen out of Angel’s hand.

“No, I haven’t,” Angel said. “But I asked you first.”

“We’re pursuing leads.” Matt tossed down the pen. “I’d like the room cleared,” he said loudly.

“In other words you’ve figured out squat and now you’re grasping for anything that could make sure you’re not accused of failing on the job. And you’re finally agreeing to getting rid of the rubberneckers in here because you don’t want them to figure out you haven’t made any progress.”

“If you and I were on our own, I’d make you wish you hadn’t said that,” Matt told him.

Angel didn’t doubt Matt would make a serious opponent, but he was darn sure the cop wouldn’t win.

“We’re leaving,” Aaron said, standing in front of Matt. “Now.”

“You should have sent that Chuzah packing years ago,” Lobelia Forestier said. “He’s the one who’s causin’ all this trouble.”

“That’s all hearsay,” Angel said. “Old wives’ tales. People love to pretend there’s all kind of stuff going on and then say Chuzah did it. Drop it. It’s getting old.”

“Miz Forestier, you go ahead and leave now, please,” Matt said. “And the rest of you. We’ve got work to do. Let’s all be grateful Eileen’s okay.”

“I’m coming out there with you,” Chuck said. “Eileen’s my wife.”

Angel whirled to look at him. “She was your wife, Moggeridge.
Was.
Stay away from her. Take a hint. She doesn’t want you around.”

“Hey,” Matt said, shooting to his feet. “Break it up. Moggeridge,
out.

Matt watched Chuck struggle with wanting to stay where he was, and then bottle his anger. He didn’t say anything else before he left.

“If you want to talk to Chuzah, I’ll invite him to come in,” Angel told Matt. “Let’s go, boys.”

A welcome breeze drifted through the window propped open by a skull. Eileen got her eyes fully open. She didn’t remember falling asleep on the comfortable couch or having pillows placed behind her head and a soft, light blanket spread on top of her. The deep blue blanket seemed to be made of hand-spun angora.

This, Eileen thought, was a peaceful place as long as you didn’t dwell on some of the decor. Even the incense burning on the candlelit altar spread a sensation of calm.

She really did like the herb cabinet that covered most of one wall. One of those would make a great conversation piece if she could ever move into a bigger, less conventional house.

Chuzah’s kaftan was lime green and shiny. A kind of silk. The turban was the same color, but striped with bright yellow. He was possibly the kindest man she’d ever met. At the moment he was talking to Locum, or making sounds the dog listened to while looking into his master’s face. Dishes, one of food and one of fresh water, were put down.

“How do you feel?” Chuzah asked without looking at Eileen.

“Good.” But she had no inclination to sit up. “How long have I slept?”

“Not so long. Angel and the boys will be here to pick you up soon.” He came to sit in a chair beside her. “Do you have pain?”

“Almost nothing. I woke up when I was in the swamp—before Locum came—and my head hurt so much I didn’t think it would ever stop.” Very carefully, she put fingers to the left side of her brow. “It hardly even stings anymore and it’s a big wound.”

“When Angel takes you home, you should have that Dr. Mitch Halpern put in sutures. He is a good man. Running from something, but ready to have more than medicine in his life.”

Eileen looked at Chuzah with interest. “Mitch running from something? He seems fine to me.”

“He is fine, because he keeps busy and doesn’t allow himself to think too much. One day he’ll stop to evaluate and then he—Enough. As I said, he is a good man and he’ll do a good job with that.” He indicated Eileen’s forehead.

She might have pushed him to say more about Mitch but was sure it would be a waste of time. Once his mind was made up, Chuzah wasn’t a man to be pushed.

“I can tell you are strong,” he said. “You’ll be yourself in no time, and whatever happens, trust that you are never alone.”

He made comments that were unusual, but generally unremarkable. But what did he mean when he said she could trust she’d never be alone? How could he begin to know that? She’d been alone plenty of times.

“So quiet?” His smile had it’s usual warming effect on Eileen. “You may be a woman who analyzes everything too much. Sometimes it’s best to accept and move on. Never be foolish, but be confident.”

“Yes,” she said. He wanted her to be strong and deal with whatever came her way. She hoped she could.

“Move your head from side to side. The instant you feel any pain, stop. Never move beyond pain because it means that you have moved enough.”

Dutifully, Eileen moved her head from side to side, then up and down. “My neck is a bit stiff, that’s all.”

“The injury wasn’t bad, other than on the surface. You were suffering from being cold and damp—which makes you feel so much worse. Now you are warm and safe again.”

“I should get out of your hair and go home.”

His bass laughter filled the place. “Out of my hair, hmm. Getting into my hair would be too difficult for you to have to get out. Relax until your man comes.” Tilting his head, he regarded her intently.

Eileen felt herself blush. She sank deeper beneath the luxurious angora blanket.

Chuzah’s eyebrows rose and he laughed again. “What did I say to embarrass you? And don’t tell me you aren’t embarrassed.”

“When you look at me like you just did, I imagine you can see inside my head.”

He cleared his throat. “I was sensing is all.” He got up and walked to the window. Locum loped to his side. “We shall have company,” Chuzah said.

“Angel’s here? And Aaron and Sonny?”

“They are on their way.” With that he returned to the kitchen and moved so languidly that when he returned with a plate of cubed cheese with walnuts, and a mug of something hot, Eileen couldn’t help thinking the man could do anything, and do it faster than anyone she knew, without appearing to hurry at all.

Cautiously at first, but quickly gaining confidence, she scooted to sit up. Chuzah put the plate on her lap and turned the mug so she could take it by the handle. “A good green tea,” he said. “My own blend.”

She drank, and it was so good, and ate with a feeling she had never been more hungry. “Thank you,” she said and looked at her watch. If Angel had been close to this house when Chuzah said he was, he’d have been inside for several minutes by now.

“There have been some unusual events leading up to what happened today. The shots at Aaron in the swamp, and behind your house, I know about. And I understood there was another shooting at Angel’s house. I’d like you to tell me all about that, and anything else you think might help in solving this puzzle. You fell asleep when you started to talk about how you got from the fair to the swamp.”

He put a finger to his lips and listened. “We will talk of this later perhaps.”

The footsteps of more than one person climbed the steps outside and a solid knock landed on the door. Chuzah boomed, “Come right on in.”

Eileen grinned at the sight of Angel. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” she said, putting her mug on the floor and holding out her hands to him. He looked tired and anxious. “I’m fine, really I am. Thanks to Chuzah.”

As if he didn’t hear a word she said, Angel crossed the room and grasped her hands, knocking what remained of her food to the floor. He didn’t notice that, either, but a snap of Chuzah’s fingers brought Locum to deal with the cheese.

“Hey, Mom,” Aaron said from behind Angel. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sonny said. “What happened?”

“I’m great,” Eileen said, chuckling. “Boy, what a woman has to do to get some real attention.” She swung her feet to the floor but gathered the blanket about herself again.

“She was very cold and damp when I found her,” Chuzah said. “Getting warm and dry made her feel human again.”

Angel sat beside her and held her face gently in his hands. He smiled a little, catching her off guard. “This needs stitches,” he said looking at the wound near her hairline, “but wait till you see your van.”

“It’s bad?” she said, not amused.

“The damages will probably be best paid out-of-pocket, if you don’t want your insurance rates to go through the roof,” Angel said.

“Stinkin’ creep,” she said with feeling.

“They’re everywhere,” Sonny said in his slightly nasal voice. “If you got any sense, you only drive a junker in New York. A few bullet holes in it don’t hurt. Nobody wants to steal a thing like that.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” Eileen said. “Maybe I won’t have the van fixed. Maybe I’ll mess it up completely instead.”

Angel pulled her close and eased her head onto his shoulder. “I don’t think you should be getting excited over all this. Do you, Chuzah?”

“Nope. Good call. She does feel really good but she needs a couple of days of taking it easy. And when you get back, see if you can get Mitch Halpern to put some stitches in that head.”

“Looks like you got beaten up with a baseball bat, Mom,” Aaron said.

“Thanks. I already know it feels bad but I haven’t looked at it yet.”

“You hit the back of the van real hard, Eileen,” Sonny said. “Matt said a whole lot of stuff inside got broken.”

“Terrific. Any more good news?”

Angel kissed the corner of her mouth and stroked her shoulder and upper arm. “Hush. Getting upset won’t change a thing. Relax. I’ll take you home soon. Could you run through what you remember first?”

She didn’t feel like repeating everything she’d already told Chuzah but did it anyway. Angel’s gray eyes never left her face until she talked about Locum. At that point he and the boys stared at the dog who lay at Chuzah’s feet.

“He’s a sweetie,” Eileen said.

“Careful he doesn’t hear you saying soppy stuff like that,” Chuzah said. “He’s all male.”

She felt Angel’s fixed attention again and felt his breath on her cheek. If they’d been alone she would have suggested they go to bed—only to cuddle, of course.

“I’m glad,” Chuzah said suddenly.

Eileen and Angel stared at him blankly.

“That things are working out,” Chuzah continued and Eileen noted he was speaking to Angel alone. “A lot of that anxiety is gone. You know, what I talked about before?”

Angel knew. Who could forget Chuzah’s straight talk about how Angel and Eileen should consummate their relationship. The man’s comfort with discussing really personal things blew Angel away.

“Any thoughts about who we’re looking for?” Chuzah asked. “Seen anything worth going after?”

He meant: had Angel come to any conclusions about who was turning Pointe Judah into a one shaky, frightened town? And he also hinted, unless Angel was completely mistaken, that he might be able to see things others didn’t. Or it could be that Angel was putting ideas in the other man’s head.

BOOK: A Cold Day in Hell
3.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Some Sweet Day by Bryan Woolley
Shalako (1962) by L'amour, Louis
Born to Lose by James G. Hollock
The Smile by Napoli, Donna Jo
Shackled by Tom Leveen
The Venus Throw by Steven Saylor
The Vision by Heather Graham