His Garden of Bones (Skye Cree Book 4) (29 page)

S
kye and Josh found the trailhead muddy, slick, and rough going. On the hike to the top of the bluff, their path took them past scenic drop-offs and a forest chock full of lush greenery. They passed through hedgerows tangled with winter-blooming camellias. The dark red petals tipped with raindrops. Josh bent to snap off a bud, handed it to Skye.

She breathed in the fragrant scarlet blossom, looked up at him, saw the big smile on his face. It occurred to her that even as they climbed toward unknown danger to confront a serial killer, Josh took the time to make this kind of romantic gesture. Unable to toss it away, she tucked the flower into her vest, keeping it close to her heart.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m saving it for later.”

Their first look at the region as a whole wasn’t nearly as isolated as the satellite image had led them to believe. Dotted among the surrounding hillsides were houses that sprang up in random fashion without warning, hidden behind a vast woodland full of gigantic evergreens. Sprinkled among rustic cabins were million-dollar homes.

“Maybe we should’ve waited for a ride with one of the choppers,” Josh grunted as he scaled up another rocky slope behind Kiya.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Skye joked as she slipped on a rock. “The easy way up is for Harry and Travis to board that helicopter.”

They did their best to cross over the wooded topography as quickly as possible, covering as much ground as they could even though their boots were laden down with heavy blocks of mud.

From somewhere in the vast thickness of forest, they heard a woman’s bloodcurdling scream. The sound echoed around them making it difficult to pinpoint the exact location.

“It’s coming from that way,” Josh finally said, pointing to where Kiya took off toward the crags and bluffs directly ahead of them.

They followed the tracks through a thicket of tall Ponderosa pines mixed with Bhutan firs. When the forest thinned out, they spotted the gate that led to a small clearing. Beyond that stood an A-frame cabin on a parcel of land that looked as if hikers or campers had been there recently. Someone had formed a circle of stones in what passed as the front yard and used it as a makeshift fire pit.

Skye glanced down and studied the charred timber then realized the leftover kindling looked more like bones than firewood. She hit Josh’s arm and motioned for him to check it out.

Without a word passing between them, they understood the full impact of what was in the campfire.

About that time a brutal wind whipped across the yard. It was so strong it knocked Skye back a step. But she stood her ground and stared at the cabin. As the gust swirled again she had trouble moving her feet. That hesitation caused her to get her first real look at the man born Dillard Barstow, now calling himself Theron King.

She elbowed Josh in the ribs, fought the urge not to stumble backward. Dillard appeared at the corner of the house carrying an unconscious Chenoa over his left shoulder like a sack of potatoes. All the while he held a Smith & Wesson semi-automatic in his right hand.

Skye watched Dillard’s face when he spotted them. She wasn’t surprised to see him raise the gun, aiming the barrel at his visitors.

Overhead the heavens rumbled with thunder as if a higher power had taken note of their discovery and realized they’d unearthed an evil entity.

The trio stared each other down.

Skye’s eyes squinted from the rain and the force of the wind. As the gust eased off and she could make him out better, she recognized right away that sadistic look in Dillard’s eyes—eyes as dark as the pit of hell, eyes that held so much malice it seemed to radiate out from the man’s pupils.

She’d seen the look of cruelty before in other serial murderers, the look that signaled a non-connection to emotion of any kind, on any level. But if she wasn’t mistaken, this time their suspect wore a heavy coat of makeup. He’d attempted to wipe off the pancake greasepaint but he’d left a swath of residue over the peach fuzz beginning to sprout on his chin. In the downpour the dark blue eye shadow and black eyeliner were dissolving, running down his face, making it a gooey mess. It gave Dillard a Goth look, or maybe more like Vampira in drag. Either way, the man made an imposing, frightening figure.

“I put a curse on you,” Dillard claimed, turning the gun toward Josh.

“You tried,” Josh returned with confidence. “But as you can plainly see it didn’t work.”

“It will now. You’re on my land. My power is greater here than in the city. You can’t come on my property like this without consequences.” Dillard’s voice quivered like a girl’s, his tone rising almost to a soprano in growing irritation.

Trying to mask her surprise at the man’s appearance as well as his bizarre demeanor, Skye blanked her face. She took a step closer to what she considered a dangerous creature in human form. “And you can’t go around kidnapping innocent women.”

That accusation caused Dillard to drop Chenoa like a bag of cement where he stood. Skye winced as Travis’s former girlfriend hit the ground with a plop in the mud.

That’s when she saw what Barstow held in his other hand, another weapon, this time a professional-looking stun gun. He held both so tightly in his fists that his knuckles were turning white.

Her eyes drifted briefly past him to get a glance at Chenoa’s still form lying in a puddle of mud. Skye tried to ignore the bloody mass on the woman’s head.

“If you think I’ll let you get close enough to me to discharge that stun gun, think again. But you’re probably gonna need the nine millimeter,” Skye told him in challenge as she took out her nightstick. While she distracted Dillard with her insults, she watched Josh circle around behind their suspect.

“In case you haven’t noticed I zapped your fucking wolf off the map. I have my own spirit guide, a fierce panther that’s ready to go head to head with your stupid Kiya.”

Skye hooted with laughter as she decided he sounded like a petulant first grader. “Haven’t you heard? Hallucinations from a psycho don’t count.”

Dillard’s eyes shot daggers at Skye. “My guide through life was never that. My panther is real just like your wolf. For most of my life he was my only friend.”

Skye shook her head as she maneuvered into position. She needed to keep him talking until Josh was ready to make his move. “Oh, please, cry me a river. I don’t believe how you’re willing to stand there and give me your sob story right about now when there’s a woman lying on the ground at your feet, injured, hurting, probably dying because of what you did to her.”

Skye spread her arms out wide. “Besides, if your panther is such a friend to you, where is he now when you really need him? In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve reached the end of the line.”

Dillard’s eyes darted wildly around the plot of land, looking toward the woods then back at the house as if expecting to see help coming from behind one of the evergreen trees. When Dillard realized he’d been abandoned, Skye saw the fire flaring inside him, the anger building up.

“Big talk for a fucking female.”

“Yeah? This female plans to kick your ass. What’s the matter, Dillard? Are you beginning to realize it’s time to give up? Drop the weapon and get out of the rain. Look at yourself. You’re a mess. There’s nowhere to go.”

Their eyes locked. Foe-to-foe, they sized each other up. Skye saw the rage, the determination to win this round despite his skittish, erratic behavior. Since he seemed to be focusing on her and not Josh, she needed to take advantage of that.

“I’ve studied the way you move. I’ve prepared for this. There’s no way in hell you’ll take me down,” Dillard boasted.

“Then you’re in for one helluva fight, aren’t you? I doubt you’re able to take the both of us.”

Just as she’d hoped Dillard fixated on her voice, on her bravado.

It allowed Josh time to advance from the rear. Timing and opportunity gave him the chance to get close enough to kick the handgun out of Dillard’s fist. When it went sailing into the cedar trees, Josh tackled Dillard and took him to the ground.

Skye rushed toward both men and stomped her boot down on Dillard’s arm—the one holding the stun gun—grinding her weight into his palm. But she underestimated Dillard’s strength. The man rolled over in pain and grabbed hold of Skye’s leg bringing the electrical device up to her calf. It made brief contact with her muscle, long enough to send a jolt of voltage through her body. The combination of the current plus Dillard’s grip caused her to lose her balance. She tumbled over both men as they locked together in a tussle for control.

Dillard kicked Josh in the head and crawled a few feet away before getting to his feet. 

Josh caught up with him and rammed his fist into Dillard’s face. He pushed Dillard up against the cabin, but the guy used it as leverage to shove out of Josh’s grasp. From somewhere on his body, Dillard pulled a knife, jabbing it toward Josh. But Josh managed to dodge the tip of the blade. 

By this time Skye had picked herself up out of the mud. She snuck up on Dillard’s blindside, attacking him by swinging her metal stick across the man’s skull.

In a sweeping move, Josh elbowed the guy in the gut, which gave Skye another opportunity to crack the metal rod hard over the man’s head.

He went down but he didn’t stay down. Dillard fought like a crazy man high on PCP. Refusing to quit, he lashed out, hurling himself toward Skye in a body block. Skye darted out of the way, but the bastard snagged her ankles again in a last ditch effort.

But this time Skye was quicker. She batted his arms and head with her stick again and again while Josh rained down blow after blow to Dillard’s torso. Josh used brute force to shove Dillard away from Skye.

Reeling from the onslaught, Dillard tried to head-butt Josh. But Skye pivoted, brought the stick down across his shoulder blades with a whack.

Dillard reached back, bent down, swung his arm out to snatch something that looked like a fireplace poker from the stone fire pit.

Josh ducked in time to prevent the metal from making contact. Skye kicked her leg up and out tripping the bastard. Dillard landed face first into the mucky earth, hitting his head on one of the large stones.

Josh pounced. He aimed for under the chin for full effect, landed a blow to his mouth about the same time Skye found the sweet spot for a solid crack to his jaw, drawing blood.

She latched onto Dillard’s wrist, used her strength for leverage, and bent his arm all the way back until Josh could subdue him.

Skye narrowed her eyes and finished him off with a one-two, left-right punch.

This time, Dillard Barstow stayed down for the count. Kiya made sure of it.

High above Lake
Union at Theron King’s stately mansion the rain kept coming down. Each drop of water added up, accumulating in ponds, saturating the massive gardens located around the estate until the soggy earth could hold no more. The torrential downpour caused the already waterlogged ground to shake loose debris and rock. The manicured lawns began a slow slide down the hillside.

Sometime during
the night, the earth grudgingly gave up hints of Theron King’s very private personal habits. It revealed a good deal about how he’d started life out as Dillard Barstow.

Maybe in the spirit of Christmas, Mother Nature had given the ultimate gift, solving pieces of the puzzle that others might never have noticed. Since the mystery of Dillard’s life unraveled—his special garden of bones would be a secret no more.