Crane, R [ Southern Watch 03] Corrupted (44 page)

He dropped Molly’s arm from his and took her hand, meeting her shy eyes with his and smiling. She smiled back as they passed the entry gate without paying, just a wave from Joshua to let him know he was clear to proceed. He could tell she felt it by the look on her face; she was special. Tonight she was his lady, and he was gonna do everything to make her feel it, so that by the end of the night she’d feel obligated to let him feel
it
.

He felt her sweaty hand in his as they traipsed past the carnival games toward the midway by unspoken suggestion. He’d lead her where he wanted her to go. He felt the smile even as he took his eyes off of her, that anticipation breaking free and taking on a life of its own. This was where the fun began.

Hendricks was already ditching the car even as Duncan came to a halt in the wide field the festival was using for a parking lot. It took Hendricks a minute to realize they’d been at the edge of this field only a couple days earlier, and he hastily shot a look at the far end to confirm his suspicion. Yup. That was where they’d bagged that quantel’a after the downhill chase.

They’d fallen in behind Alison’s daddy as they drove into town. Duncan had fielded a call from her on his cell phone. She’d been in touch with Arch. Hendricks had watched the conversation, the demon driving adeptly with one hand as he coasted down the off-ramp toward the Old Jackson Highway. He heard snatches of Alison’s side of the conversation and of course all of Duncan’s, ferreting out that there was some incident that had happened involving fire. Hendricks didn’t care for the sound of it, but it did suggest that Starling was on to something. Not enough that he’d forgiven her for sending him down to that backwoods quarantine zone from hell, but he felt himself soften just a little.

Alison was out of the pickup truck door in a hot second, too. Hendricks caught sight of Arch waiting, leaning on his police cruiser, his uniform looking a little worse for the wear. Hendricks suspected he’d been up to something. It must have really been a hell of a thing if he hadn’t even bothered to change afterward.

Hendricks watched Alison run into her husband’s arms, watched them meet in a kiss that was equal parts relief and desire and fear. The interplay of emotions was all there, the warring of them, and he felt a few of his own as he watched it, unable to look away. He spared a thought for Erin, still lying in a hospital bed. He resolved to see her after this, and then hunt those fucking bikers down. Assuming they won this fight.

Assuming there’d be a fight.

“Bill?” Arch asked as he put his bride down, sweeping her to his side as he shifted his expression to regard his father-in-law. That was his name; Hendricks had forgotten and just taken to thinking of him as Alison’s father. Simpler that way. Bill.

“Arch,” Bill said, coming ’round the truck and offering his hand to his son-in-law. They shook with an easy familiarity, and the respect was apparent on both sides of the gesture. “I wish we were coming to this point of revelation under less strenuous circumstances.”

“You’ve known about demons all along?” Arch asked. He kept a good mask on it, Hendricks thought, but it was clear there was something going on beneath it.

“Since you were a child, I reckon,” Bill said. “I didn’t know exactly what was going on here until Alison spelled it all out for me, though.”

“Well, it’s all in the fire now,” Arch said. “And we’re about to be too, ’less we get this thing stopped in time.”

Duncan pushed up next to Hendricks. “Let’s find this fiery fuck and put an end to him; get back to the business at hand.”

“This is the business at hand,” Arch said firmly. “Flaming destruction of the whole town seems like a priority to me.”

“Whatever,” Duncan said, waving a hand. “What’s the plan?” There was a moment’s silence, and he looked to Hendricks rather obviously.

Hendricks saw the shift of gazes his way, and felt more than a little discomfort. “Um … okay. So. We’re hunting a, um …”

“A horny teenager,” Alison said. “In a sea of them.”

“Right,” Hendricks said, and his eyes scanned the carnival in the distance. The Ferris wheel was the most obvious point sticking on the horizon, but he saw the tops of tents and the metal, lit metal frames of other rides as well. “I don’t know how much good it’ll do when it comes to the fight, but having a couple people spotting from a distance might be helpful. Scan the crowd, call out anything that looks unusual—”

“Through the scope of a rifle?” Alison asked and then looked to her father. “That could be done. There’s a hillside overlook that runs around the side of the carnival. Good wooded cover.”

“Good hunting up there, too,” Bill said with a nod. “You know, in the fall. We should be able to drive up there from here; cross through the fence gate at the far end of the parking lot. It’s Ed Claskey’s land, he leaves the gate unlocked.”

“Is that trespassing?” Hendricks asked, only marginally interested in the answer.

“He’s a friend,” Bill said. “So no.”

“Sounds like hunting season’s come a little early this year,” Hendricks told them with a nod.

“Take these,” Arch said, slipping off Alison and dipping into his car to pull out a couple of little plastic bags with something black and threaded inside. “Earphones for your cells. We’ll conference call.”

“No walkie-talkies?” Hendricks said with a smirk.

“Didn’t have time to put much together,” Arch said, tossing the baggies to Bill, who caught them both with a nod and handed one to his daughter. They both headed back for his truck, slammed the doors and didn’t spare a lot of time getting moving, the pickup bouncing its way through the dirt parking lot.

“What about us?” Duncan asked. “Just start walking around the place?”

“Good a plan as any, I guess,” Hendricks said. “I’ll hang with you since I don’t have a phone.”

Arch just shook his head. “You may be regretting that before long.”

Hendricks shrugged. He’d never needed one. “Let’s get in there.”

“Wait,” Arch said, and Hendricks looked back at him. “You’re gonna need a ticket to get in, hotshot.”

Hendricks just blinked, the hot night bringing out the first beads of sweat under the brim of his hat. He hadn’t even considered it.

Lauren had decided to go to the festival. It wasn’t something she really wanted to do; it was something that she conceded was the crazy mother at work in her brain. She’d had a couple leaps getting to that point, but she’d finally bent her mind to do it, justifying it by saying she wasn’t gonna be looking for Molly. It was a big event, the biggest in Midian, and indeed the whole of Calhoun County. She lived in Calhoun County, ergo her attendance at this major social event was no big deal. Natural, even. She couldn’t avoid going just because her daughter was going, after all, she planned to laughingly tell Molly on the off-chance she ran into her daughter.

It didn’t even sound true in her head, but she went anyway.

She was just about to park the car when she saw Arch Stan through a narrow aisle of parked cars. He was wearing the same dirty, fucked-up uniform he’d soiled in the mine, and he had that cowboy (!) walking a pace behind him, and one of those federal agents that had flashed a badge at her, if she wasn’t mistaken. She stared a moment too long and nearly put her car into the trunk of a vintage Oldsmobile before she saw it and slammed the brakes.

She just sat there for a second, processing what she’d seen. A pious, corrupt asshole, a cowboy and a federal agent walked into a county fair … It sounded like the setup to a bad joke to her.

She could feel her brow furrow in concentration as she mulled those three disparate elements while she searched for a parking space. To their credit, they did drive the thoughts of how Molly was doing out of her head almost until she reached the gate.

The song
California Girls
was playing on the tilt-a-whirl as Mick sat next to Molly and felt it jolt as it spun them. The hazy night closed in, laughter filling the air with the music, screams of delight as they went ’round and ’round. He felt her hand squeezed tight in his, an unexpected delight filling him. Benny was the announcer, and he was rhyming verses like he always did, amateur poet:

“Gonna go round and round!

Find yourself be spinnin’ down!

We takin’ ’round this tilt a whirl!

And when it stops—kiss yo girl!”

Mick could see the people in front of him laughing from the impromptu rhyme, giving in to the spontaneity of the unspontaneous moment. Benny had other rhymes, but Mick knew he’d pulled this one out just for Mick. Even so, he smiled at Molly. She smiled back, a nice tilt of her head that said she was thinking,
Why not?
So he gave it to her, a meeting of the lips for their first time, sweet and filled with promise. There was something in the heat of the night, in the touch of her slightly damp fingers to his, the interlacing as he squeezed her hand in his, of the taste of faint coffee on her tongue as his met hers. He wondered what she tasted on his.

They parted lips as the ride came to a stop, and Molly giggled with delight at Benny’s next rhyme.

“Now we comin’ to an end,

come on back and go ’round again,

but even if you’re done and going on,

kiss your girl again before you take her home!”

Mick matched her grin and took Benny’s advice as the soundtrack clicked in again. He was old enough to know that this wasn’t how the Beach Boys sang about
California Girls
, but it wasn’t bad, he reflected as he kissed her.

Arch stopped counting what he considered inappropriate public displays of affection from teenagers after the first dozen. He was fully aware that his bar was bound to be set lower than most, and he tried not to let it bother him as he moved through a crowd, the lights glaring like someone had let Las Vegas off the leash and spun it around him.

He’d conference-called Bill and Alison, and Alison had tied Duncan into their conversation. He could barely hear them even with the volume turned all the way up; the sound of people talking, shouting, jubilant laughs and the ringing of bells from booths and electronic noise from rides and games nearly blotting them out. The smell of something deep fried tickled his nose, reminding Arch he hadn’t eaten in far, far too long.

“Looks like a big, happy carnival,” Arch heard Bill’s voice through his earpiece. He had to agree. Midian went all-out on this, the perfect time to celebrate the end of summer and herald the coming of fall with its cooler nights and shorter days.

“Nothing obvious so far,” Alison concurred. He wondered if they’d split up to cover from different angles. He didn’t ask, though, because he didn’t want to be the one to tell his wife how to do her job, volunteer gig though it might have been.

“Just one big clusterfuck of lights,” Duncan’s sour voice came through. “Cowboy looks kind of out of place here.” Arch heard something said in the background. “Simmer down, man in black.”

Arch nearly bumped into two teenagers walking close together, casting them a gaze that he hoped looked like adult disapproval without venturing into creepy territory. They didn’t even notice.

Lauren nearly ran into Sheriff Reeve. He was loitering, she realized, hanging about on the edge of the crowd, flying the sheriff’s department colors so everyone would see law and order was present at the festival and they could relax. She wasn’t an expert on security, but it seemed like a good strategy. Though it didn’t look like attendance had suffered any from the shit that had landed all around Midian of late.

“Dr. Darlington,” Sheriff Reeve said, ever the voice of politeness. She would have ducked him if she’d seen him coming, of course. “So lovely to see you. And not in your scrubs this time.”

“But you’re still in uniform,” she said, nodding at him. “Making a showing to reassure people?”

“All business tonight,” Reeve said with a nod. “Which is a shame, because I’m a pretty fair skee-ball player.”

“The things you sacrifice for your work,” she said, only slightly mocking.

“Tell me about it,” Reeve said. “So-o … you’re not here to commit murder, are you? Because … my official presence would frown on that. And I’m not ashamed to admit, I would probably cry at having to deal with another corpse.”

“You may relax,” she said. It was a county fair, for fuck’s sake. She’d make nice with him for two minutes and be on about her business of darting between booths, pretending not to look for her daughter. “My intentions are more in the direction of the corn dogs, I think.”

“Ill intentions for them, I suspect, but that’s not a crime,” Reeve said with a little humor. The man looked a little pallid, worn.

“Depends on what you do with them,” Lauren said, scanning the crowd. “I was on an ER rotation, and this guy came in complaining of rectal pain—” She stopped herself, blinking as she realized she’d launched into the story without thinking about it. Reeve had an eyebrow slightly up, at least a little amused. “Sorry,” she said, feeling mortified already. I did not stop to think before speaking.” She lightly thumped her temple with a forefinger. “Long day.”

“I can assure you,” Reeve said, and his tone reflected the amusement, “I actually want to hear the end of this one. It sounds like a better story than any I’ve got from this week.”

Lauren thought—just for a second—about protesting. She gave it up with only a thought of the bodies she’d seen in his company. “Right. Well.” She pushed her embarrassment aside. “So, he comes in, and he’s complaining of pain in his ass—”

“One sympathizes. I’ve felt a few of those of late,” Reeve said.

“I doubt yours also carried a symptom of a wooden stick peeking from your anal sphincter like a telephone pole towering over a city street, though,” Lauren said, trying to keep the smile from breaking out too early. It actually was a funny story, though not exactly safe for work. Except hers. This was life in the ER.

“Indeed it does not,” Reeve said, with a smile of his own. “At least, not as yet. Go on.”

Mick took her on the roller coaster next. It wasn’t quite like the olden days, he reflected. There were bigger ones, better ones, ones that were fixed in place. Thrill riding was an industry, and companies like Walt Disney, Six Flags and Anheuser-Busch dominated the field, making his little piddly coaster that could be disassembled and put on trucks at the end of the day seem positively quaint compared to the excitement it had brought thirty years ago.