The Book Waitress Series Volume One (17 page)

“Be my guest. Try to work around the tight space. In a couple of weeks, I can move into the library, or so I’m told. That will give us all the room we need.”
To stay far away from you, Mal. And Derek thought I’d
like
her?

“Seriously? You bought the library? I gotta hand it to you. You’ve got balls in that outfit of yours. Personally, if I was in your shoes, I’d wanna be as far away as possible from that place.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t wish these ‘shoes’ on anyone else’s feet. My purchase is a part practical and part tactical maneuver, since the well is in the back yard. It will give us unlimited access to information
and
the portal.”

Mallory mumbled something unintelligible as she got down to organizing their business, leaving her utterly speechless.

“Camille, I think you, Arnie, and I should go through
The Dark Path
together. It’s the only book left and it’s given us so much information already, I can’t believe there won’t be more to learn.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. “Why don’t we go out back while she makes sense of our mess?”

“Sounds like a plan, darlin’. But first, I think it’s time to switch those packs. We’ll be right back.”

Arnie went out back to interpret the chicken scratch while she followed Derek upstairs. He certainly didn’t need to help her replace the packs. She was capable of doing it on her own. When they reached her bedroom, he turned and shut the door.

“What’s up? I’m trying to be nice, but Mallory, she’s really pushing my buttons. And besides, I really don’t need your help with these pa….”

He grabbed one of her hands and placed it directly on the hardened mound in his pants. Before she could recover from the shock, he cupped her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers. Breathlessly, he released them, and said in a ghetto pimp sort of way, “You’ve got spunk, and it pleases my junk.”

She stood there, mouth agape, heat having crept up her neck and cheeks. With unabashed laughter, she whacked him on the arm. “That was bad.
Real
bad. And for a writer like you! You should be ashamed.”

He grabbed her by the waist and glued her body to his. “Just wanted to remind you how much you please me, woman. I’m keeping track of the episodes. Can’t wait for Number 13 to come and go, ‘cause then you’re mine.”

He let her go, opened the door, and strut out of the bedroom. The thrilling knowledge that he’d been figuring a way for them to be together didn’t help with her task. Her entire body thrummed with need, and trembling hands made it twice as difficult to replace the darn ice packs. She finally cooled herself down and returned downstairs to find the three investigative reporters standing around a cell phone Mallory held, their faces grim.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Her stomach flip-flopped as she jumped the last two steps and joined the huddled mass.

Derek held up a finger, signaling her to be quiet for a minute. As she scooted further into the circle, she heard what sounded like a news report and then there was music.

“Damn it.” The huddle broke and he paced the floor, scrubbing his scruffy face with his hands. He was not a happy camper.

“Is someone going to shed a little light in my direction?” With no immediate reply, she pushed on. “Well?”

“Mallory had a radio station on while organizing down here. A special news report broke through. In the woods, I think near Myra Scroggins’s house, at the base of a drop-off, police found body of a woman, multiple fractures including her head. They think she’s been there a few days.”

“Whoa, that’s horrible!” To have just been there, so close to that area, creeped her out.

“Cam, they’ve identified her as Myra.”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“They’re still investigating, but leaning away from foul play. She could have been walking through the forest, not seen the drop-off, and fell.”

She dropped to a chair, dread seeping into her body. “You know as well as I, that woman could barely walk from the kitchen to her bedroom and back again. What on earth would she have been doing out in the forest, by herself, taking a walk? It doesn’t add up. Evil had to have something to do with this.”

“I know we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions, but I gotta go with you on this one. Remember what she said when we visited her and she gave us these books? Mal, Arnie, she made a deal with the devil and believes, or believed, he took her son to make the rest of her time on Earth a living Hell. She also thought he’d be back for her at some point.”

“That poor woman. Such a tragedy,” Mallory commented, shaking her head.

Derek stopped by the window and looked out. “All the more reason to see he’s stopped in his tracks.”

Quietly, Camille added her own thoughts to the mix. “I wonder what other tragic stories are going to start surfacing.” Thankfully, he sidled up to her and massaged her knot-riddled neck.

“I don’t know the answer to that, but one thing I can say is that everyone is suspect in this town until proven innocent. We can’t be sure who’s been possessed or whose deaths are caused by creatures that have crossed over.”

“You know,” Arnie chimed in, “on our way over here, we heard two different news reports on the radio. One mentioned that a banker had gone crazy and killed all of his tellers. They haven’t found him yet. The other report said something about a taxi driver going psycho, mowing down pedestrians on the sidewalks on Main Street and killing his wife. He was handcuffed and somehow got loose. He’s also on the run.”

“Here? On Shelter Island?” Three incidents of intense violence on one small island was not a good sign.

“Yup.”

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “Time to get ourselves a police scanner.”

“And keep track of these incidents.” Derek agreed. “Evil is making its presence known. Let’s get back to that journal, learn what we can from it, and make this right.”

Chapter Eight

Arnie was amazing. His gift for deciphering handwriting reduced the time it took them to go through the journal nearly in half. They started from the beginning to ensure they hadn’t missed anything Pre-Arnie. The history behind the portals came first, and they’d been pretty accurate with their reading. Arnie did have to help them with the description of creatures that had already passed through. Finally, they reached the new material.

“Man, this is intense!” Arnie could barely stay in his seat, and wound up grabbing the book away from the other two and walked in circles around the patio table.

“What’s it say?” Camille’s knee bobbed furiously. Her emotions, like a pendulum, swung back and forth between the fierce indignation of a warrior and that of a scared mouse. The mouse was coming out of its house at the moment.

“Well,” he started and paused, flitting back and forth between pages, “see here? These pages talk about weapons to be dipped into spell-induced potions and used to wipe out the damned creatures. No kidding.”

“That’s freakin’ insane! Are there any pictures to go along with the descriptions?”

“Derek, my man, we got ourselves an encyclopedia of spells, potions, and supernatural weaponry here to fight off the bad guys. Guns, crossbows, spears, axes, maces, chains….” They whooped it up and high-fived each other, while she looked on dubiously.

As if things weren’t crazy enough, now they were going to get into the potion-making business? “What’s involved in making these potions? Eye of newt, frog’s lips, blood of a dragon?”

She guessed Arnie wasn’t amused by her sarcasm, but he ignored it and explained what they’d need for the concoctions. “It says that we need to get our hands on certain chemical compounds and teas.”

“What kind of chemical compounds? I mean, I just bought a library, not a drug store.”

“From what I can tell, these chemicals are commonly found in over the counter pharmaceuticals. We should be just fine, except we’ll need a lot. If we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, each of us will need to go in separately and purchase the items.”

“Good idea, bro.” Derek slapped him on the back.

“Hey, it’s all in a day’s work.” He preened like a peacock and laughed.

“Does it say anything about closing the portal?” Anxious to get the damn thing shut down, she leapt from her seat and tried to grab the book from his hand. It nearly ripped in two.

“Easy, easy. Nothing yet. Sorry, but there’s more here to read.”

“How
much
more??” Camille backed off and started chewing on her bottom lip.

She had a bad feeling they weren’t going find the biggest answer of all. That they’d wind up spending the rest of their lives hunting down evil beasts with no chance of closing the portal. Add the ridiculous nature of cooking potions, and it put her in such a foul mood, she’d begun to doubt anything other than her own sacrifice would take care of this nightmare.

“Looks like there are about five pages to go.”

“Shit.”

“Come on, don’t lose hope. Who would’ve thought we’d find this latest nugget? These last five pages could still hold the key.”

“That’s true, sweetheart. Let’s see how this book ends.” Derek offered her a bright, hopeful smile.

“All right. I’m sorry guys. I guess my nerves are frayed, and this latest bit of information seems like a lot of nonsense to me. I’ll try and temper my reactions. Let’s get this over with.”

They sat back down, hunched, and poured over the remaining pages. When they finished, they all sat back in their seats, each one as speechless as the next. She looked at Derek, and he at her. She hung her head in defeat.

“We can do this. The three of us have been all over the world. We have contacts on every continent.”

“
I’ve
never been anywhere, though. I haven’t been further from my home than where I am now. I don’t have a passport, I’m afraid to fly, and I’m afflicted with these cursed scars. What the hell am
I
supposed to do?”

“We’ll figure it out. We will.”

“Why the long faces?”

Mallory had come outside with a newly lit cigarette propped between her lips. Camille scowled. She detested smoking even more than people, and since good ol’ Mallory hadn’t scored many points with her earlier, she was quickly becoming one of her least favorite people on Earth.

“We finished the journal.” Arnie gently closed the book and laid it on the table. “We discovered how to close the portal.”

Mallory took a long drag and her face lit up. “Well, that’s fantastic! Isn’t it?” As she spoke each syllable, little puffs of smoke escaped her mouth, reminding Camille of a steam train.

“Here, let me read aloud.” Arnie stood with the book in his hand and opened it to one page in particular. “
It’s very easy to open a portal to Hell, and another story completely to close it. To close a portal, there are thirteen charmed objects that must be collected, thirteen prayers to be spoken thirteen times, and a sacrifice of all objects into a sacrificial pyre. The ashes are to be scattered like dust in the wind.
”

“The charmed pieces are scattered around the world, but the person who wrote this didn’t know where exactly, so only wrote vague references to possible sites.”

“Christ, that blows.” Mallory took another, longer drag from her cigarette and smirked. “But when has a little ambiguity ever stopped us from investigating anything?”

“Very true, Mal.” Derek laughed right along with her. “Thank goodness at least we have names and pictures of this stuff, and the prayers, too. Like I said earlier, we have contacts on every continent. We can do this.”

“Well, now that we know everything there is to know, Arnie and I should go back to the mainland, tie up some loose ends. We need to get ourselves prepared for an extended stay and head back over here. I figure we can be back in a couple of days, three tops. All my pending work is submitted. I just have to pawn off some piddley pieces to others who are dying for a little extra money. Should be easy. What do you think, Arnie?”

“Yeah, that should give me enough time. I just have to do a final proofread of an article and submit it. Then, I’m free and clear. Nothing else on my plate.”

“Sounds like a plan, Stan. If anything changes, let me know.” Derek shook Arnie’s hand and hugged Mallory. “Thanks, guys. This really means a lot to me…to us.”

“Will do. Let’s go, Arnie. The sooner we’re gone, the sooner we’re back. Besides, they’re doing major road construction down by the ferry. It could take us a good while just to get on the dang boat.”

Before Camille could offer them a drink or a meal, they were gone. The house seemed awfully quiet without all the buzz from the three of them. Now she was left alone again with Derek and her thoughts. Being alone with him was a good thing, but alone with her thoughts was another story.

“Hmm. I didn’t know they were doing road work on the island. Did you?” She played with the strands of hair that had escaped the hairband she’d hastily thrown on that morning and contemplated how out of touch she suddenly felt with the world.

“Nope. When you don’t have to leave, you’re not as aware of things.”

“Guess so. Hey, let’s go shopping. We need supplies. Why wait for them to come back?”

“And, you’re antsy, aren’t you?” He raised a suspicious brow.

“Well, to be honest, yes. Now that we know all we can know, I’m anxious to act, to do something towards an end. So, let’s go and start buying what we need, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiled and ushered her out the door to his car.

A couple of hours later, having waded through throngs of people milling about, discussing the multiple tragedies on the island, they returned from the couple of grocery stores on the island with bags of more ice packs, Alka Seltzer, allergy medicine, boxes of black tea, and lengths of chain link. The drugs and tea would be used in the ritual mixture meant to anoint their weapons. As for the weapons, they would have to order the crossbows online. Derek called Arnie and Mallory and asked them to bring their gun and knife collections.

“They have guns, as in plural, and knives. Do you? Have more than one gun and knife, I mean.”

“Yes. When you travel and investigate the way we do, sometimes multiple layers of protection is advised. We’ll teach you how to use them. Don’t worry.”

She’d never considered the danger he put himself in prior to this particular crisis. It served as a reminder that not all that meets the eye is what it seems. She’d been taken in by his good looks, charmed by his awkward way with words around her, and overwhelmed by his strong desire for her. But she hadn’t contemplated how competent he was at security. Silly of her, really. He’d unloaded a full magazine into Victor Langdon to save her from sacrifice.

“I’m not afraid of them, the guns, but I’ve never used one. Never used knives, either, except for cutting a steak. I have used a crossbow before, at day camp when I was a kid.”

“Well, we’ll all need to practice using all the weapons so we’re more than proficient at hitting our targets.” That sounded so utterly inane to her. The four of them would be hunting down evil creatures and killing them. She used to think her dark connection absurd. Now, that seemed reasonable in comparison. Derek organized the boxes on the kitchen counter, and as he put the chain link on the floor, he very nonchalantly added, “By the way, you’ve reached Number Twelve.”

She gulped as not only her brain, but her body understood exactly what he meant. One more episode and they would be over for the day. But when? When would it come? And wasn’t it only Number Eleven?

***

“Yo, Charlie! Can I talk to you a minute?” Ziggy was a no-nonsense kind of guy. He’d been working the roads for over twenty-five years and was known to his crew as being hard but fair, and always on the level, making sure his people were safe on the job. This current bit of roadwork had him troubled, and he wanted his immediate supervisor to know about it.

Standing by a truck, not looking up from his clipboard, Charlie barked out a response. “Yeah, Zig. What’s up? Crew not up to your standards this time around? Bunch of pussy-wimps can’t handle a little heat during the day?” He sneered.

“Naw, they’re fine. Workin’ out great. No complaints on that front.” He took off his hat and swiped at his beaded brow.

“So, you got a complaint, do ya?” The intimidating, oversized man finally tore his eyes away from his papers and aimed them at Ziggy. “I wondered how long it’d take for you to find something to bitch about.” Charlie glared and bit down on his unlit cigar, rolling it between his teeth.

“I only complain when there’s something legitimate to complain about. You know that.”

Charlie backed off and softened his stare. “Yeah, yeah. So, what the hell’s the problem?”

“I found something. Across the street, there’s a wide area that’s unusually depressed. Used to be an apartment building on that spot, before the road cut through. Could be that, under the road, there’s debris buried. It’s probably rotting. If we leave it alone, the area will rot even more and we’ll have a huge sink hole on our hands before too long. We gotta do something about it. Any ideas?”

“Hmmm. Common practice years ago, when leveling and clearing a building. Yeah, I got an idea. Leave it the hell there and pave over the God damn area like you’re supposed to.”

“But it’s a pretty large area, Charlie. It’s not structurally sound. Maybe we should get another crew out here, excavate it, and fill it back up with gravel and soil.”

“Well, if you had an idea of what to do about it, professor, why’d you bother to ask me? And, my response to that is
no
. We don’t have the budget for it. Just do as you’re told. Just pave the fucking road. And don’t say a word about this to anyone or I’ll bury ya.”

“What? Come on, Charlie. We’ve known each other for twenty some odd years. I’ve never heard you talk like this before. What’s gotten into you to threaten me like this?”

“Nothing’s gotten into me. We got no damn budget for nothing but paving. We pave now, and when the sinkhole opens, we up the contract amount to fix it. It’s called survival, Ziggy. Pure and simple. You got a problem with that, too?”

“People could get seriously hurt, Charlie! If that sinkhole opens up, people could even die. Remember the sink hole in New Jersey? A kid died there. You prepared to have something like that on your conscience for the rest of your life?”

Charlie grabbed ahold of his neck and pinned him against the side of the truck, seething as he spit his message into Ziggy’s face. As he spoke, his eyes seemed to glow a fiery red-orange that freaked him out. “Now you listen to me, Mr. Self-Righteous. I haven’t had a conscience in years. Like I said, you breathe one word of this to
anyone
, I’m coming after your job, your family, and you. I will ruin you. Have I made myself clear?”

Ziggy struggled to free himself, but the mammoth man was far too strong, even for someone as fit as he. Grimacing and trying to squeeze air past his throat, he nodded. Charlie released him and straightened his shirt across his shoulders.

He slapped him on the cheek and said, “That’s a good worker. I knew you’d see reason. Now get back to work before your men miss ya.”