The Demon Trappers: Foretold (15 page)

‘Was he driving OK?’ A nod. So that meant Beck wasn’t drunk. ‘Anything else?’

A table full of head shakes. Riley pulled a napkin over and wrote her cellphone number on it. ‘Call me if you hear anything.’ She looked at each one of them in turn. ‘Please .
. . I really need to find him.’

‘You might as well go back home, girl. He’s taken off again,’ one of them replied. ‘He always did that. Like that time when he was a kid and he ran away.’

‘I remember that. They had the cops out looking for him,’ another man added. There were nods from some of the others.

It was time to set some of Beck’s record straight.

‘Oh, you mean the time his mother took him into the swamp and left him there . . . to die?’ she asked.

The mustachioed guy shied back in his seat. ‘That’s not how I heard it. You sure about that, girl? Not right to say bad things about the dead and all.’

Riley pushed her phone number closer to him. ‘But it’s OK to tell lies about the living?’

She left them muttering to themselves.

Sam’s ride was a maroon sedan with seats that warmed one’s behind. Riley decided if she ever had money she’d buy herself something like this, though it was
doubtful a Three would fit in the trunk.

‘So what year are you? Sophomore or a junior?’ Riley asked.

‘Junior,’ Sam replied.

‘Like me, then.’

‘Is it true that you guys go to school in abandoned buildings?’

‘Yup,’ Riley replied. ‘Mine’s a Starbucks. Before that it was an old grocery store. Who knows where the next place will be.’

‘That’s so bizarre. I go to a regular school. Well, most of the time when I’m not . . .’ She shot Riley a glance. ‘OK, Cole was right. I’m on
suspension.’

‘What hideous offence did you commit?’ Riley asked.

‘I kicked a guy where it counted. He was feeling me up and when I told him to stop he didn’t. So I nailed him.’

Riley gave her a thumbs up. ‘Works for me.’

‘Yeah, well, I got another lecture about not being combative and how I should have ratted the octopus out to the teacher and had the school deal with it.’

‘Was this his first offence?’

‘No. He’s groped other girls. Each time he gets a lecture from the principal and keeps on doing his grab-ass thing.’

‘How about after you nailed him?’

Sam shook her head. ‘Word is he’s dialled it way down.’ She turned on to a side street. ‘Of course, my mom went ballistic. My uncle, not so much. He says I have to learn
when it’s best to fight and when it’s best not to.’

‘Your school would not like me,’ Riley said. ‘I’m pretty peaceful, but sometimes I’ve found you just need to kick butt.’

Sam smiled at that. ‘So that’s my story, why I’m in the middle of . . . nowhere . . . bored out of my skull. Well, except I still have homework.’

Riley groaned at that. Her homework was piling up at home. ‘I’m here to help Beck with his mom.’

‘You two hooking up?’ Sam asked.

‘No,’ Riley said wistfully.
Maybe someday.

‘Don’t worry, my uncle will find him. He likes Beck a lot. Oh, and he said we should trade phone numbers in case you need to get around town.’

It sounded as if Sam didn’t mind that assignment.

Beck’s ‘OK’ ex-girlfriend’s house was well maintained with a sizeable flower bed that still had plenty of colour, an indication that frost wasn’t
a constant visitor in Sadlersville. Unlike Sadie’s place, this looked like a home.

Riley pushed the doorbell, then looked back over her shoulder. Sam had opted to remain in the car, texting a friend at her school. It was cool to have someone Riley’s age to talk with,
someone who didn’t think Beck was a waste of life force.

The door opened and she found herself staring at a young woman with a heart-shaped face, pale cheeks and fine blonde hair. Louisa’s pale blue eyes were wide and expressive, adding to the
china-doll look. Riley guessed her to be at least eight months’ pregnant. That and the wedding ring signalled that Beck’s ex had definitely moved on.

‘You’re Riley, aren’t you?’ the woman asked. At Riley’s expression of surprise, she added. ‘Denny told me what you looked like.’

‘Is he here?’

‘No, I haven’t seen him, but I’m glad you came by. He said he wanted me to meet you.’

Riley was waved inside. The house was toasty warm and smelt of cinnamon and baked apples. Louisa guided her into a small front room where Riley settled in a chair. Her hostess eased herself down
on the couch next to a skein of pale pink wool and a pattern for a baby blanket. The work in progress lay nearby.

‘I have to sit here,’ Louisa explained, placing a protective hand on her bulging stomach. ‘If I sit in one of the chairs I can’t get up.’

‘When are you due?’ Riley asked.

‘Four more weeks. It’s a little girl.’ Then Louisa smiled and held up the crochet work. ‘As if you couldn’t tell.’

Riley smiled back. She could see why Beck had really liked this girl. She had no pretence to her.

‘Denny called me the other night,’ Louisa added. ‘He said he was going out for pizza with you. He sounded really tired, but he had it together. Now I’m hearing people
think he took off on you.’ She shook her head, frowning. ‘That’s not like him.’

‘Did you call Beck last night about nine?’ Riley asked, hoping to find out who had lured him away from the motel.

‘No. Is it true Denny was going to ask the sheriff to reopen the investigation?’

‘Who told you that?’ Riley asked, astounded at how fast news travelled in this town.

‘The cashier at the grocery told me. I thought it was a good idea. Now . . .’ Louisa stirred uneasily on the couch. ‘I never believed he was guilty, you know? What if
Denny’s disappearance has something to do with that?’

So Riley wasn’t the only one thinking in that direction.

‘What do you remember about the weekend Beck and those guys went into the swamp?’

Louisa’s expression darkened. ‘Denny and I had had an argument a couple days before. He was ducking some things he needed to take care of and I called him on it. He didn’t like
it. When I asked if we were going to do anything for New Year’s, he told me he already had plans and they didn’t include me.’

‘Smooth move, Beck.’

‘You could say that,’ Louisa replied. ‘He wasn’t easy to get along with back then and most of that was his mother’s doing. I had no idea he was out in the swamp
with the Keneally brothers until Cole told me.’

‘Cole? How did he know?’

‘He said he’d heard it somewhere, but I found out later he was selling drugs to Nate Keneally.’

Now we’re getting closer.
‘Could Cole or Nate have told anyone else?’

‘I don’t know. I think the only reason Cole told me was to make me mad at Denny. He was always working on our heads. Eventually he broke us up.’

‘Beck still carries a grudge about that.’

‘Yeah, so do I.’ Louisa patted her baby bump fondly. ‘I wonder what would have happened if we’d stuck together. This little one might be Denny’s and . . .’
She looked up, embarrassed. ‘I’m not saying I don’t love my husband, it’s just that sometimes I think of what might have been.’

‘No harm, no foul,’ Riley replied. ‘I do the same every now and then.’

‘Are you two . . .’ the girl ventured.

‘Close friends, but . . .’ Could she admit the truth to Beck’s ex? ‘I want more. I want what you’ve got. Well, not the baby right off, but . . . you
know.’

Louisa smiled broadly, then it faded. ‘You have to find him, you hear? Don’t let him disappear like those boys.’

‘I’ll try.’
No, I will find him.
She couldn’t live with anything less.

By the time Riley left the house, she’d been given a picture of Beck from when he was fifteen. He lounged against an old car, clad in worn jeans and a black T-shirt, his summer-blond hair
spiky and unkempt. His half-smile barely disguised his damaged life.

It only made her miss him more.

As the temperature rose, Beck took the opportunity to strip out of his jacket and shirt so he could shake out the red bugs. Once he thought the clothes were less
critter-filled, he put them back on.

All the while his mind was working through options. The lack of food was an issue and there wasn’t anything within reach that would be of help. He’d pointedly ignored the bugs
skittering around the underbrush. He wasn’t that desperate . . . yet.

He really needed to find the right stone or thick branch to use as leverage to widen the gap in the ring. Then once he’d freed himself from the tree he could arm himself with the chain and
make a dash past the demon towards the canal. From there he’d have to figure out in which direction to walk to reach civilization, but he’d done that before and lived to tell the
tale.

As he buttoned his shirt he found himself staring at the next tree over. It had a chain as well, a twin to the one holding him prisoner, probably left over from when they used to log the
swamp.

If he could get that other length of chain free, maybe he could use it in some way, if nothing more than an additional weapon against the demon. Beck walked over as far as his leash would allow,
within ten feet of the tree, but couldn’t cover the space. He went down on his knees, then on the ground, angling himself for maximum stretch. Clawing across the leaves and debris, he edged
closer. As he moved, he uncovered beetles and other crawly things. Beck shuddered and kept working forward inch by inch. And fell short. There was no way he’d be able to retrieve the other
chain.

Swearing, he rolled over on his back and stared up at the sky. It was a brilliant blue. Pretty, unless you were trapped in a swamp.

Think, dammit! There has to be a way to get free.

His right shoulder blade began to complain about the uneven ground so he rolled up into a sitting position. Hoping to score a rock, he dug with his fingers, but instead unearthed something
metal.
Even better.
Scooping away the dirt revealed a rifle and he excavated it from the ground.

Brushing it off, he felt a thrill of hope. If there was still a cartridge in the thing, maybe he could find a way to weaken the chain. He knew better than to try to shoot off the padlock, that
only worked in the movies. Beck struggled to his feet, knocking dirt out of the barrel, then opened the chamber. There was no bullet.

‘Of course not,’ he muttered. At least now he had another weapon. It would only be a matter of time before some small critter got too close to him and the rifle would make a great
club. If it came to eating raw squirrel rather dying of starvation, he’d find the will to do it.

Exhausted, his muscles jittery, Beck rested. He caught sight of an anhinga observing him from its perch. The locals called them snake birds and when they dived into the water their feathers
would became saturated. They’d have to sit in a tree until their feathers dried so they could fly again.

Beck’s eyes lowered to the weapon in his hand. It seemed in decent condition other than the damaged stock, which had suffered from too much moisture. He scrubbed away on the wood with a
thumbnail, then froze. The wood had a skull and crossbones imprint and the initials NTK.

Nathan Tate Keneally

‘Oh my God,’ he whispered. He knew this gun. He’d fired it once.

He looked up to find the demon watching him from a respectful distance, resting on its haunches again.

‘Is this some trick of yers?’ Beck demanded.

The fiend shook its head. ‘It has been here since
that
night. Do you remember?’

There was no way he could ever forget
that
night. It had played havoc in Beck’s nightmares for years, switching back and forth with the one from the war.

It’d been Nate’s idea – he’d scored some whisky and drugs and was headed into the swamp for the weekend with his brother. Beck hadn’t thought it sounded like a
smart idea, not with Okefenokee being federal land. Brad, Nate’s younger brother, had insisted that the park rangers were short handed and didn’t patrol on a holiday weekend.

Finally, Beck went along, more to have time away from

Sadie than anything. They’d loaded up into a truck and

Nate drove to Kingfisher Landing because he was the one with the driver’s licence.

They got wasted, told some tall tales, including Nate’s claim that he knew a secret that would keep him rolling in cash for years. Nate was always boasting.

‘What really happened to them?’ Beck asked, his throat tight.

The demon cocked its head. ‘Your soul for the answer.’

‘I’ve lived seven years without it – I can go a bit longer.’

‘So you’d like to believe,’ it replied, then crept off into the brush.

After her visit with Beck’s ex, the next stop was Sadie’s house. Though Sam offered to help with the cleaning, Riley declined the offer. This was her job, her way
of thanking Beck for everything he’d done for her over the last few months. Besides, she needed time to think things through.

‘When do you want me to pick you up?’ Sam asked.

Riley checked her phone for the time. ‘Make it three hours. By then I’ll be tired of cleaning. Meet me at the funeral home, will you?’