Second Grave on the Left (19 page)

“Of course it’s bad. I work in a prison, for God’s sake. Things like this just don’t happen in my world. And yet, every bone in my body is accepting the fact that Reyes is a supernatural entity. I’d sooner doubt the weatherman, at this point.”

“Everybody doubts the weatherman, and you’re in my world now,” I said with a grin. “My world is supercool. But I told you that for a reason.”

He refocused on me and raised his brows in question.

“I need your help. I need to know who’s been visiting Reyes.”

“And you need that information because?”

“Because I need to find his body.”

“He’s dead?” Neil shouted in alarm. He jumped up and walked around to me.

“No, Neil, calm down.” I held up my palms in surrender. “He’s not dead. Or, well, I don’t think he’s dead. But he will be soon. I have to find his body. Like I said, he’s hurt. Bad.”

“And you’re thinking someone might be harboring him? Someone who’s come to visit.”

“Exactly.”

He turned and punched a button on his speakerphone again. “Luann, can you get me the names of everyone who’s visited Reyes Farrow in the last year? And I need to know who he’s requested be put on his visitation list, whether they were approved by the state or not.”

“Would you like that information before or after I have you committed, sir?”

He pursed his mouth in thought. Making a decision, he said, “Before. Definitely before.”

“I’ll get them immediately.”

“I just love her use of the word
immediately,
” I said, vowing to introduce the concept to Cookie. “So, visitors have to be approved?”

“Yes.” He sat back down behind his desk. “The inmate has to turn in anyone’s name he wants to receive visitations from; then that person has to fill out an application, which is submitted to the state for approval before he or she can visit. So let’s get back to this supernatural thing,” he said, a tinge of mystery in his eyes.

“Okay.”

“Are you psychic? Is that how you know Farrow is hurt?”

Always with the PS-word. “No. Not especially. Not in the way that you mean. I can’t predict the future or tell you about the past.” When he eyed me doubtfully, I said, “Seriously, I can barely remember last week. The past is a blur, like fog only blurrier.”

“Okay, then what do you mean by supernatural?”

I thought again about telling him the truth, but just as quickly decided against it. I didn’t want to lose him, but I didn’t want to lie to him either. This was a guy who’d worked with convicted felons for over a decade. Deceivers one and all.

I studied the speckled pattern of his carpet, trying to figure out what to say. I hated the uncertainty of how much to tell someone, how much to hold back. The problem with telling people the truth was that by my doing so, their lives were forever altered. Their perspective forever skewed. Since most people would never believe a word of it anyway, I was rarely put in such a precarious position. But Neil had seen things. He knew Reyes was more powerful than any man he’d ever met. He knew I could see things others couldn’t. But there was a line, a limit to what the human mind could accept as reality. If I crossed it, I would lose his cooperation and his friendship. Not that I really gave a crap about his friendship, but still.

“Neil, I don’t want to lie to you.”

“And I don’t want to be lied to, so this whole thing should be pretty cut and dry.”

With a deep sigh, I said, “If I tell you the truth … let’s just say you won’t sleep well at night. Ever again.”

He tapped a pen on his desk in thought. “I have to be honest, Charley, I haven’t slept all that well since your last visit a couple of weeks ago.”

Damn. I knew it. I’d already screwed up his world.

“I could be wrong,” he continued, “but I’m certain I would sleep better if I knew the whole story. It’s the bits and pieces that are kicking my ass. Nothing is solid anymore. Nothing fits. I feel like the foundation of everything I’ve ever believed in is crumbling beneath my feet and I am losing my grip on what’s real and what’s not.”

“Neil, if I tell you more, the last thing that knowledge will do is help you get a stronger grip on reality.”

“Can we agree to disagree?”

“No.”

“So we
are
disagreeing?”

“No.”

“So we’re in agreement?”

“No.”

“Then let me put it this way.” He leaned forward with an evil, evil grin. “If you want a gander at those visitation records, I want to know everything.”

Did he just use the word
gander
? “I don’t think I can do that to you,” I said with regret.

“Yeah? Well, maybe I didn’t tell you everything either.”

My brows snapped together. “What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly think that one little story I told you about Reyes was everything?”

The first time I’d visited, Neil told me the most amazing story. He had just started working at the prison when he witnessed Reyes, a twenty-year-old kid at the time, take down three of the most deadly men in the state without breaking a sweat. It was over before Neil could even call for backup. That’s when he knew Reyes was different.

“Do you think that was all there was to tell?” he asked. I half expected an evil laugh. “I have dozens of stories. Things that … things that are impossible to explain.” He shook his head as he contemplated what I could tell was a plethora of unexplainable phenomena. I tried not to drool. “And quite honestly, Charley, I need an explanation. Call it the scientist in me,” he added with a shrug of his brows.

“You sucked at science.”

“It’s grown on me.”

He wasn’t giving up. I could see the determination in his eyes. That same determination that took our high school football team to state three years in a row. Damn it.

“Tell you what,” I said, slipping into negotiation mode. “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

“So I have to go first, is that what you’re saying?”

I smiled in affirmation.

“Damn it. I always have to go first, then half the time, you girls chicken out and run away before showing me yours.”

He’d clearly had too much experience in that area. “You don’t trust me?” I asked, trying really hard to be appalled.

His mouth thinned. “Not even a little.”

I indicated our surroundings with turned-up palms. “Dude, we’re in a prison. If I don’t hold up my part of the bargain, you can put me in solitary until I do.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

I wanted more, needed more as much as I needed air. My appetite to learn as much as possible about Reyes was insatiable. “You can get it in blood.”

After a long, thoughtful sigh, he said, “I guess blood won’t be necessary. I’ll give you one of the highlights.” He worked his lower lip a moment before choosing. “Okay, there was this one time when I was still a guard, we’d received word that a fight was going to break out. A bad one between South Side and the Aryans. The tension was so thick that by the third day we knew something was going to happen. The men gathered in the yard, eyed each other, inched closer and closer until the shot caller of each gang was nose to nose. And right in the middle of it stood Farrow. We were surprised.”

“Why were you surprised?” I asked, certain my eyes were wide with wonder.

“Because he had no affiliation. It’s rare, but every once in a while, an inmate will go it alone. And he did. Quite successfully.”

“So, he’s in the middle of this fight?” Even though I knew Reyes was okay, my heart still stumbled at the thought.

“Smack dab. We couldn’t believe it. Then men started dropping. As Farrow wound his way through the inmates, man after man fell to the ground. They just passed out.” He paused, lost in thought.

“What happened next?” I asked, my voice full of awe.

“When Farrow got to the shot callers, he spoke to them. By that time, most of the others were backing off, a look of astonishment on some of their faces, fear on others. The shots glanced around, realized what was happening, then the one from South Side showed his palms and backed off. But the Aryan grew furious. I think he felt Farrow was betraying his race or something.”

“They’re so testy about that sort of thing.”

Neil nodded. “The Aryan got in Farrow’s face and started yelling. Then, before anyone knew what’d happened, he just crumbled to the ground.”

I flew to my feet and laid my palms on Neil’s desk. “What did Reyes do?”

He looked up at me. “We didn’t know at first, but he touched them, Charley. Surveillance showed him walking through the crowd and touching them on the shoulder. And they dropped like flies.”

I stood with my mouth agape probably much longer than was appropriate.

“The guards rushed in, found their weapons, searched everyone else, and put the whole place on lockdown.” Neil shook his head as he thought back. “There’s no telling how many lives were saved that day. Including mine.”

That surprised me. “Why yours?”

He studied his hands a moment before answering. “I’m not as brave as I pretend to be, Charley. The Aryans had made a promise to come after me. I’d pissed one of them off when I put him in lockdown after he threw a tray at another inmate.” Neil stared hard. “I would never have made it out of there alive. I know that. And I was scared shitless.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Neil.” I chastised him with a glare then stated the obvious. “So, he saved your life, too.”

“And I’m eager to return the favor.”

“Let me ask you something,” I said, a suspicion niggling the back of my mind. Reyes’s best friend from high school had also been his cellmate. “His cellmate Amador Sanchez didn’t happen to be affiliated with South Side, did he?”

He thought back. “Yes, actually, I think he was.”

Interesting. I wondered had that not been the case would Reyes have done anything.

“I think Farrow would have stopped the fight nonetheless,” Neil said, as if reading my mind.

“Why do you say that?”

“When we stormed onto the yard, I went straight for him. I wanted to make sure nobody else went after him. Partly because I didn’t want him hurt and partly because I knew a little of what he was capable of. I didn’t want any of my coworkers hurt either. I ordered him down and kneeled beside him as the tactical team launched tear gas into the yard. I had a gas mask on, but I leaned down to him.… I just had to know.”

“Know what?”

“I asked him why he stopped the fight.”

“What did he say?”

“At first he denied it. Said he didn’t know what I was talking about, then refused to say anything else, but that could have been the tear gas.”

“Then later?”

“When we were marching the men inside for lockdown, he leaned into me as he waited his turn to be searched and told me he’d seen enough war to last a thousand lifetimes.”

Knowing exactly what Reyes had been talking about, I swallowed hard.

Neil fixed a curious gaze on me. “What did he mean? He’s certainly never been in an actual war, and I figured you might be able to answer that one.” He laced his fingers together. “I believe it’s your turn.”

Okay, I had to be honest with him, but I couldn’t tell him everything. That wouldn’t be fair to Reyes. I would tell him only what I had to. “I’m not sure how to say this,” I offered hesitantly, “but Reyes has definitely seen war, tons of it.” I watched Neil, studied him to gauge his reactions. “He was a general in an army for centuries, just not an army from this world.”

“He’s an alien?” Neil almost shouted.

“No,” I said, trying not to laugh. “He’s not. I can’t tell you everything.… He’s just a supernatural entity.”

“That’s it,” he said, rising from his desk. “You’re going into solitary.”

He grabbed my arm and lifted me out of my chair, albeit carefully. “What? I’m telling you shit.”

“No, you already told me that shit, I need new shit, shinier shit. And you’re holding out.”

“I am not. I just—”

“Do you know how many people I’ve told that story to?” He leaned down, his voice a harsh whisper, as if someone might hear. “Do you know how crazy it sounds?”

We were headed to the door. “Wait, you can’t actually put me in solitary.”

“Watch me.”

“Neil!”

“Luann,” he said when he opened the door, “get the restraints.”

Cookie had been sitting in Luann’s office and glanced up from her laptop, frowned in mild interest, then went back to her research.

“Okay, I give.” I showed my palms in surrender. When he eased his grip, I jerked my arm out of his hand then said through gritted teeth, “But don’t blame me when you start wetting your bed at night.”

He smiled at Luann congenially, then closed the door. “You got one chance. If you don’t make it good, you will never see the light of day again.”

“Fine,” I said, jabbing his chest with an index finger, “you want to play it rough, we’ll play it rough. Reyes Farrow is the son of Satan.” The moment I said it, the moment the words slid through my lips, I went into a state of shock. My hands flew over my mouth, and I stood for a very long time staring into space.

Reyes was going to kill me for letting a secret like that slip out. He was going to slice me into tiny pieces with his shiny blade; I just knew it. No, wait. I could fix this. I let my horrified gaze land on Neil. He seemed undecided on the solitary thing.

I dropped my hands and laughed. Or tried to laugh. Unfortunately, I sounded like a drowning frog, but I was rattled, discombobulated. “Just kidding,” I said, my voice straining under the pressure of certain death. I socked him on the arm. “You know how it is when you’re facing solitary confinement. You’ll say the craziest things.”

As I turned to sit back down—and to drop my jaw open to gawk at my own stupidity without him seeing—he said, “You’re not kidding.”

“Pffft,” I
pffft
ed, turning back to him. “I was so kidding. Really? The son of Satan? Pffft.” I chuckled again and sat down. “So, where were we?”

“How is that possible?” He walked back to his desk in a daze. “I mean, how?”

Damn it. I totally gave myself away by floundering like a carp on dry land. I stood again and leaned over his desk. “Neil, really, you can’t tell anyone.”