Blackwater Lights (24 page)

He glanced around. Nowhere to hide except a clump of bushes. He dove, scurrying into the shrubs as the back door opened and slammed against the house. He held his breath. A sharp branch had lodged against his ribs, but he couldn’t move. He was facing away from the door, too afraid to turn around. Were his shoes hanging out of the bushes?

Two sets of footsteps.

“Check the garden,” a man said.

A click—probably a gun’s safety clicking off. Or a trigger cocking.

Footsteps approached. Something crawled across the back of his neck—a spider. Christ, it felt
huge
.

“Nothing here,” the voice said, almost directly beside him.

Ray’s lungs ached. He couldn’t hold his breath much longer.

“Check the woods,” another voice said, farther away. The footsteps next to him moved away.

He let out his breath and swatted the bug on his neck. It wriggled in his hand, and he slapped it away. That had been close. His entire body quivered as if electrified. Now was the time to move. He’d have a minute or so to get inside before they returned.

And then what?

It didn’t matter. Inside the door he’d be that much closer to Ellen. And William. And Sara.

And Crawford. And Lily
.

He ran to the door. The handle was cold. He twisted, and it opened.

The room was empty, save for the paintings and tapestries on the walls, a leather couch, and the statue of goat-footed Pan at the base of the stairs. Ray pulled the door shut behind him, closing it gently.

The marble Pan leered at him from the shadows.

Footsteps from the other room.

There was only one way to flee: up the stairs. He bounded up, two steps at a time, and crouched on the landing. A long hallway stretched in front of him, and at its end a doorway glowed with red light.

He peered down the stairs.

A cop stepped into the room. He was young, his head almost shaved. His radio squawked and Ray jumped. He held his breath.

“Finster, you there?” Loud and distorted.

The cop answered. “Yeah.”

More static. “Take a look around back there. In the house.”

“Ten-four,” Finster said.

He was coming up the stairs. Ray looked behind him down the hall. He could make it to the open door if he got lucky.

Finster’s feet echoed on the steps.

Ray hunched low and ran down the hall, into the bedroom. The red light came from two ornate lamps. Everything in the room—carpet, curtains, bed coverings—was a deep shade of crimson.

A door down the hall opened and closed. Then another. The cop would find him if he didn’t hide. He ducked behind the enormous bed. The room smelled familiar.

More feedback on the cop’s radio. “Finster, get down here. Back door.”

The cop in the hall cursed. “I hear you.”

A reprieve. At least for the moment.

Ray looked around. It was clearly a woman’s room, with a powder room or bathroom
joined to it. Red sheets—satin, it looked like—deep red curtains, an intricately carved headboard, red candles next to a silver cup on a bedside table. A full-length antique mirror against one wall. An oil painting of a buxom woman combing her long red hair and gazing into a hand mirror. Her skin alabaster white, like a rare, fragile seashell.

His breath caught in his chest.

Someone stepped from the adjoining room, casting him in shadow.

“Hello, Ray. So glad you could come.”

She was dressed in a short red nightgown, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders, her pale, round breasts accentuated by the low neck. Her legs and feet were bare.

Ray stood, his hands curled into fists. “Where are my friends?” He’d rip the head off her shoulders if any of them had been hurt. Crush that vile face.

“Billy,” she called out. “Come here for a minute.”

A man stepped into the room from behind her. Ray had seen him before: it was Black Boots. All in black—tight jeans and a squeaky leather jacket that rode high above his belt. His hair was slicked back, his eyes wild and feverish. He held a handgun with a long barrel. He pointed it at Ray’s face.

“Billy, shoot him in the balls if he tries anything.”

Billy laughed and lowered the barrel. “My pleasure, Mother.”

Mother?

Lily rubbed his greasy hair. “Billy’s a good boy, aren’t you, Billy?”

He laughed again. His face flushed.

Ray raised his hands slowly. “Let Ellen go. Keep me, and I’ll talk. Just let her go.”

Lily rolled her eyes.

“Please. It’s me you want. She has nothing to do with this.”

Lily laughed. Her laughter was like broken glass. “Oh, Ray, you didn’t think it would be that easy, now, did you?”

He swallowed.

“Sit down. On the bed.”

He didn’t move.

“Billy, if Ray doesn’t do what I say, shoot him. Okay?”

Billy giggled. “Fuck yeah.”

Ray sat on the bed. Lily sat next to him. She curled her legs under herself, and her gown rode up her thighs.

“That’s much better,” she said.

“Please. Let me see Ellen.”

She shook her head. “First we have to have a little talk. But take that bloody shirt off—it doesn’t suit you.”

Ray took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor.

“That’s better. He has a nice chest, doesn’t he?”

Billy nodded. His teeth were yellowed and jagged, and his eyes wiggled in their sockets.

Lily moved her face close to his. “I’m so sorry it had to turn out this way. I offered you so much, Ray. Pleasures. Knowledge. A partnership.”

He looked away, fighting the pull of her eyes. Her breath was hot on the side of his face.

“And you said no. You could have been the prince of all my consorts. You don’t know how many men would kill to have the things I could give you. It’s puzzling to me. Truly.”

He spoke through clenched teeth. “Just let Ellen go. That’s all.” His voice quavered, and he hated himself for it.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Not until you cooperate. If you had only done that in the beginning, we could have avoided all this.” She shook her head. “But this was your selfish little choice. You’re the reason the poor girl is here. And that cute-as-a-button little boy.”

Ray felt his body tensing. Maybe he could snatch the gun from Billy without getting himself shot. Just throw himself into Billy and grab for it.

“My, my, what do we have here? An early morning visitor?”

Ray’s insides turned to ice. Crawford stood in the hall doorway.

“Ray, was that you sneaking around in the bushes out there? And look at your pants and your hands—you’re covered in blood!” He opened his mouth in mock horror. “Well, I am happy you decided to drop by, bloody or not. It sure saved us a lot of trouble. And your girlfriend will be grateful, I’m sure.”

“Where is she?”

“In time, Ray. Don’t be so anxious.”

“Fuck you,” Ray said.

Crawford looked at Lily and they both burst into laughter. “Oh, you’re going to be fun.
You’re a card, Ray Simon. And your girlfriend is a real whippersnapper, too. I can see why you two hit it off.”

Ray spat in his face. A gob of saliva dripped down Crawford’s cheek. Crawford sneered. He wiped the spit away with a flick of his hand. He drew his hand back and jabbed his long pinky fingernail into Ray’s eye. In and out.

“Jesus!” Ray cried. His eye filled with blood.

“You stupid fuck!” Lily said.

Ray cupped his bleeding eye in his hand. It felt as if Crawford’s fingernail had gouged his cornea. Billy jammed the gun barrel against the back of Ray’s head. “Want me to shoot him?”

“No,” Crawford said. “I have some things I’d like to show him first.”

Billy and Crawford led him through a maze of hallways and down the stairs into the basement. Ray had a hard time walking—seeing through only one eye had skewed his depth perception. Billy kept the cold metal of the gun barrel pressed against the back of his neck. He passed a row of doors that looked like cells; in the dim light he saw what looked like shapes of people huddled within. This was where they were keeping Ellen and William, probably, but he couldn’t stop. Crawford opened a door, and Billy shoved Ray inside.

A dentist’s chair sat in the middle of the room. Crawford waved his arm toward it. “Have a seat, Ray. It’s time we got to know each other better.”

Billy pushed him into the chair and held him. Crawford helped tighten thick Velcro straps around his arms and legs and put on a long white lab coat. “And no spitting this time,” he said. “You’ll want at least one good eye to see what we have in store for you.”

“I have a question,” Ray asked.

“I am all ears.”

Ray strained his arms against the straps. No give at all. He might as well be encased in concrete. “Why won’t you let Ellen and William go now? You have me. I’ll cooperate. You got what you wanted. They have nothing to do with this.”

Crawford tilted his head from side to side, as if trying to remember the punch line of a joke. “You know, you do have a point. I’d consider letting the little boy and his mommy go. Just wipe their minds clean of this entire incident and send them merrily home. As far as I’m concerned, the less ugliness and the fewer messes to clean up, the better for everyone. But it all depends upon your cooperation.”

Maybe he was bluffing. But Ray had to take the chance. “I’ll cooperate. Keep me. Let them go.”

Crawford scratched his chin. “Let me ask you a favor. If you accept, the waitress and her adorable boy wake up tomorrow all snug in their beds, dreaming of sugarplums and free to live out the rest of their lives as if you never existed.”

“Ask.”

Crawford bent over and moved his face closer. “You know what I want, don’t you?”

“You want something locked inside me. In my memories.”

Crawford clasped his hands. “Yes! Yes, Ray. That’s exactly what I want.” He turned to the door. “Billy, please wait by the door. We need some quality alone time.”

Billy left the room and stood quietly outside.

Crawford reached up and turned on a circular light, then angled it into Ray’s eyes. “Looks like I did a real number on you there, Ray. Once we have a nice long discussion, I can clean that up for you.”

His good eye watered in the glare. “What do you want?”

“It’s pretty simple, really. You just let me in. Let me look inside you.”

Ray squirmed. “How?”

“I’ll inject a little something to help you relax. And then I’ll ask you some questions. And you’ll answer them. And when you feel me, you won’t resist—you’ll let me in. Free to roam. To wander. Wherever I want to go.”

The image of Crawford wriggling through his mind made him ill. “And then?”

“If you aren’t hiding anything—if you truly open yourself—they both go free.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“You have no choice but to believe me, Ray. Look at you—do you look like you have any choice? If you play by my rules, I let them go.”

“And me?”

Crawford wagged his finger. “We’ll work that out later. Time is slipping away. So … shall we get going? If you cooperate it will go very quickly.”

Ray swallowed. His throat was dry as chalk. “What if I don’t? You won’t get what you want if I resist, will you? So maybe I
do
have some say in this deal. Let them go first—prove to me that you’ve set them free—and you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Oh, Ray. Now, now. Don’t do this.”

“Let me see that they’re okay and then let them go. Then you get everything. Prove to me I can trust you, and then you can do whatever you want. No resistance.”

Crawford sighed. “I had so hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He walked to the other side of the room and switched on a TV monitor mounted on the wall. “But if you won’t cooperate, I have no choice.” The monitor glowed cold blue.

Ellen. In her bra and panties, curled into herself, rocking slowly in the corner of a concrete room with black-and-white checkered tiles. William, next to her, holding his mother, his face hidden.

Ray strained against the straps. “You fucker! You motherfucking—” he grunted, pushing with every bit of strength. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking
kill
you if you hurt either of them!”

Crawford ignored him. “Billy, get Mother in here and then go to the studio. I think I’ll need a little help convincing Ray.” He smiled and shook his head at Ray, as if he were watching a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Icy water in his face. Burning cold. He’d been screaming and cursing, jerking around in the chair like someone being electrocuted. The cold water brought him back. He stopped screaming and caught his breath.

Lily stepped into view, blocking the closed-circuit TV. “Oh, dear, look at his eye.”

Crawford sighed. “Nasty, isn’t it.”

Lily moved behind him. On the screen Ellen still rocked and William still clung to her, as much to comfort her as to be comforted. They were both so small and fragile.

Lily’s face, upside down, moved into his. “Listen closely, Ray. Watch what we can do. Show him, Samael.”

Samael?

Crawford pointed a remote control at the TV. A volume bar moved across the image as he turned up the sound. Ellen cried, a horrible, low keening.