The Skinwalker Conspiracies - 02 (22 page)

“No, we’re meeting up with her in Phoenix. She’s going to help us get rid of De Soto.”

His face contorted and he said,
“We don’t need the likes of her! You can’t possibly trust her.”

“I trust her to do what is best for her. Right now that means teaming up with us.”

Lee Harvey Oswald started past me toward the strip club.
“I don’t deal with any damn Skinwalker.”

I grabbed him, spun out of the way of his punch, and stepped inside his guard while sweeping his leg out from under him. This dumped the ex-Marine onto the broken asphalt and gravel. Already, the energy was starting to build up around him and the neon sign out in front of the place flickered.

“Don’t be an idiot! She’s already told me how he stays so powerful. I’m betting she knows more of his secrets. Do you want De Soto or do you want to spend the rest of your existence wiping out random spirits? How many people die every single day? You’ll never wipe them all out!”

My argument penetrated the fog of craziness and seemed to reach him, for the moment.
“I’m getting sick and tired of you telling me what we’re doing.”

“I’m right and you know it,” I answered and offered my hand to the unstable specter. He took it and I hauled him to his feet.

“We leave for Phoenix in the morning. Stay out of trouble until then and more importantly,” and I couldn’t believe I was about to say this, “stay away from Cassandra.”

Heading back to the Caddy and ignoring the looks of the guys getting out of a nearby car, I reckoned my life had turned into a bad paranormal remake of
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.
Which part did Mike Ross play? I didn’t know for sure.

“You’re staying there? That’s a dump, Ross! Have a little class. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that part of town.”

It was hard to follow the thick accent of Cassandra’s current body, a Latina named Isabella. The hotel wasn’t that bad, and it was near enough to the Cadillac dealership. Pastor Duncan’s ride finally gave out and we were towed the last ten miles into Phoenix. I told the techs there was something wrong with the electrical system. Thankfully it was under warranty.

“That’s a laugh coming from someone who spends her nights in strip clubs. So what wonderful establishment are we meeting at? Let’s make it someplace semi-public.”

She agreed and gave me the time and the name of a gym. I responded, “I suppose it’s different than the usual strip club.”

“Not all my bodies are strippers,” she said with a scolding tone. “This one is a personal trainer and the club is an exclusive one. Try not to look like a vagrant. Check in at the front desk and say you’re one of my clients.”

“That’ll work,” I said and hung up on her.

“What did she say?” Silas asked.

I stared at the bus schedule in my hand and was already plotting how to get from point A to point B. If Pastor Duncan had been here the dealership might have given us a loaner. The two of us were flat out of luck. Back to public transportation for me.

“We’re meeting at a fancy gym around two. Amos and I are going early to make certain it isn’t an ambush.”

“I should come too,”
Oswald stated and I could feel the temperature in the room dip. If I lived long enough to retire in Florida or this part of the country, I needed to bring a powerful ghost with me. It would save on air conditioning bills something fierce.

“You’re the reason she’s not coming here,” I answered. “Eckels wants De Soto out of the way as much as we all do. She’s going to drive me by his neighborhood so I can get a good look at the place. Then, I’m coming back here with the address and we’ll look for the area on the internet and see if there are any satellite pictures of the neighborhood, so we can plan our attack.”

Oswald, as usual, didn’t look pleased. I tried to throw him a bone, “Keep your eye on the real prize, Lee. We’re this close to the Governor. This is what you’ve been waiting for.”

It mollified him. Or at least he acted like it did. Divining the truth out of an insane person was beyond the single class I’d taken in Abnormal Psychology. Either way, I didn’t have time to sit around and debate the issue more, not if I wanted to be early for my physical trainer appointment. I said a quick goodbye to Silas and left with Amos.

It was a good thing that I arrived early. There were waiver forms to fill out and a whole bunch of other useless paperwork waiting for me. I also got to listen to the sales spiel from the overly perky, but attractive, female trying to get me to sign up for a longer package than the trial membership. In the Army, I’d tolerated all the mundane sheets of paper; it seemed like nothing could actually be done without it.

Adjusting back to civilian life, my so-called tolerance vanished. Under my breath, I told Amos to go check out the grounds, while I started scribbling away on the clipboard. The gym was nice with flat panel televisions all over the walls, racquetball courts, and all the other trappings of places I couldn’t afford. The gyms when I’d been a grunt were pretty well equipped, but heavily used. Between paydays, also known as the times I was broke, I’d spent much of my time in the gym or hanging out with Donnie Hodges or other workout warriors.

After I finished filling out the forms, Felicia started me on a tour of the facility, which seemed like it was taking way too long. I caught her checking her watch on two occasions and a casual glance at the wall clock showed it was twenty after two. I got that feeling that I was being stood up when a second female approached.

“Felicia, is this Isa’s new client?”

“Yes,” the sales girl responded.

The newcomer was about five foot nine, with straight reddish brown hair pulled into a pony tail. “She’s running late with some car trouble, but wanted me to assure Mr. Ross that she is on her way. Isa asked if I wouldn’t mind filling in until she gets here.”

“He’s all yours, Karla. If you have any questions about membership here, Mr. Ross, please stop by my desk.”

I nodded, but couldn’t take my eyes off the trainer. It wasn’t just because she was hot either. There was something … no, it couldn’t be. “Karla Thompson?”

The woman tipped her head to one side and said, “I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?”

She looked much better than the last time I’d seen her, months ago. Under the command of Roger Taney, Strong Vincent and some rather nasty ghosts held her hostage in a hunting cabin in Pennsylvania, terrorizing her because she was Darren Porter’s girlfriend. I guess she didn’t recognize her knight in shining armor. Of course, on that day I was wearing a heavy jacket with a hood obscuring most of my face and she’d been driven to near insanity – all minor points.

I weighed my options and the best I could come up with was, “Um, your parent’s cabin and the ghosts.”

Her hazel eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me? Get the hell out of here before I call the cops!”

In a perfect world, she’d be thanking me for saving her life, we’d have a laugh, and maybe something from the juice bar. Unfortunately, I lived in my world and I got crap like this … all the damn time. “Hey, I’m here meeting Isabella. I didn’t even know you were here!”

She wasn’t really listening. Our unlikely reunion didn’t exactly bring out the best in Darren Porter’s girlfriend. Unless a shrill scream at the top of her lungs actually was her best. In that case, Darren might actually be glad he’s dead.

With all the eyes in the gym on us, I couldn’t really do much other than stand there while she went completely spastic on me. When she started whacking me with the clipboard, I blocked it and smacked it out of her hand, but she pressed with the strength only the deranged possessed, pushing at me and trying to generally inflict personal injury on my body.

After a couple of fingernail wounds to my forearms, I caught her wrists and held her while she continued her foaming at the mouth breakdown. The crazy broad spat on me!

A minute or so passed before some of the staff members came over and I let her go. She tried to come at me again, but this time they restrained her.

Felicia was much less pleasant this time. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing,” I said over Karla’s shouts of, “Get him out of here!”

“I think you should leave, Mr. Ross,” she commanded.

“I’m supposed to meet Isabella,” I answered, pointing a finger at Karla. “She attacked me. What kind of place are you running here?”

“Do you want me to call the cops?”

“Fine, suit yourself,” I said and snatched up my gym bag. Fuming, I walked out, chucking my temporary member pass on the front desk while being flanked by a pair of staff members. I could have easily stood my ground and even pressed charges against Karla, but if De Soto had any people in the police department, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of showing up in their system.

Amos rose out of the ground and followed me over to a nearby bench.
“Mike, I got the impression that the lady doesn’t like you that much.”

I pulled out the Silas Parker’s phone and acted like I was talking into it. “Tell me about it!”

“I remember seeing her at that Porter fellow’s grave back in Gettysburg. Of all the places to run into her! You know, I volunteered to be part of the squad that kept her company, but General Reynolds handpicked the worst of the lot instead,”
my companion said.
“I told my buddies that I sure wouldn’t want to be her.”
 

Yeah, I felt bad for Karla Thompson, but not that bad. I got the impression after watching all those cable access episodes of Darren Porter and his ghost chasers that Karla was some kind of trust fund baby and was the one financing that group. She never expected the ghosts to start chasing her back. After I set her free, she ran and never looked back. I won’t ever have that choice. Yeah, I wasn’t bitter or anything like that.

Taking the phone away from my ear, I call Cassandra while wiping off the blood caused by Karla’s nails on a towel I’d borrowed from the hotel.

Von Eckels answered and I could hear her annoyance coming through the speaker, “I’m almost there, Ross. Just be patient.”

“Change of plans, pick me up outside,” I answered.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“For a change, it’s not you, Eckels. Karla Thompson knows me and had a nuclear meltdown when she remembered what I do for fun.”

I obviously caught Cassandra off guard. There was a second or two of dead air before she said, “What? How do you know her?”

“Long story,” I said and sighed. “The short version is she was the girlfriend of the last guy that was on his way to becoming a Ferryman. He died and a bunch of Taney’s crowd held her hostage for a few months. I got her out of there, but the incident might have left her with a few screws loose. The end result was either I stay and talk to the cops or take a hike.”

“Marvelous,” she grunted and added a few nasty words in Spanish. “I should just keep driving. You could screw up a wet dream, couldn’t you?”

All I’d known was Karla had headed west. Apparently, that meant here. “Yeah, whatever … This wouldn’t have happened if you showed up on time. So what’s your excuse?”

“Isabella’s jeep had a flat tire. Girl can keep herself in shape, but her car and her house are a mess. I’m coming around the corner. Where are you?”

I stood up and looked for the jeep and she pulled over to the curb. When the door opened, paper bags, empty water bottles, and a few other items fell out. Cassandra was right. Isabella wasn’t much for cleanliness. Amos shrugged and hopped in the back seat.

The Latina woman behind the wheel had long, thick black hair, a tattoo of a heart on her neck - with a guy’s name crossed out - and big sunglasses. Naturally, the Skinwalker picked a looker. She liked her toys to be pretty. I tossed my gym bag into the backseat and climbed in. My feet crumpled some of the remaining water bottles and I yanked on the seat belt a few times before giving up on it.