Hell Fire

different. Unfortunately, sometimes you just had to keep pushing. I wasn’t the type to leave a job half done.

Stu came back to check on us. “Y’all want anything else?”

I shook my head, lofting my third drink. After slamming the first two, I’d nurse this one. “Who comes in here from town, anyway?”

He grinned at me. “Did you want a list? To tell their churchy friends on them?”

Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.

“Sure,” I said. “I could have me some fun at the next potluck, couldn’t I?”

The owner gave a booming belly laugh. “You’re a tonic, you surely are.” Then he seemed to realize I meant it. Stu considered for a moment, no doubt debating on the wisdom of it. If they got chided by friends and family, it could hurt his business. With a shrug, he wrote down the names of his regulars on a cocktail napkin. I wasn’t a bit surprised to find Curtis Farrell and Dale Graham among them.

I pocketed the info with a smile. We’d use it to cause all manner of awkwardness at the church social on Saturday.

“Do you ever have trouble getting supplies out here?” My voice still sounded throaty.

Stu huffed. “Ever? Huh. I couldn’t get on anybody’s shipment list, no matter how many times I called. Stupid computers. I drive clear to the warehouse in Savannah to get my stuff. They load the truck for me, but I swear, if I’d known how much trouble this spot would turn out to be, I’d have taken my court settlement and moved to Mexico instead.”

“Funny you should say that,” I said, smiling.

I might have said more, but across the room, Jesse and Chance stood up and shook hands. I told myself I didn’t want to know what dispute they’d settled.

“You ladies ready to go?” Chance asked politely.

“Yep.” I left a healthy tip on the bar for Stu.

I was glad we’d come in. I felt a little sturdier. I wouldn’t advocate finding strength in a bottle every day, but sometimes there was no substitute for a good jolt. As an added bonus, we had information that might serve as leverage to get people to talk. Walking ahead with Chance, Shannon jangled the keys, cheerful in her role as designated driver.

“Learn anything?” Jesse fell into step with me as we left the bar.

I filled him in as we got into the backseat. In my mind’s eye, I saw Jesse’s expression as they shook hands, quiet and resigned. What the hell had Chance and he been talking about, anyway? If it had to do with me, didn’t I get a say? With a sigh, I checked myself. They’d likely just agreed to stop snapping at each other until we were done here.

Setting that aside, I pondered our next move. Little as I liked it, there was only one thing we could do before the potluck on Saturday: Return to the woods. So I offered the idea for consideration. Chance argued against it all the way back to the house. I knew what was bothering him; I had died out there. It seemed like testing fate to go back and give the forest a chance to finish me off.

Ignoring Chance’s objections, I took Butch from Shannon and let him out to run a bit. He’d been remarkably good and remarkably helpful the past few days, but he still needed some exercise. I stood on the porch, keeping a sharp eye on him. Jesse and Shannon went inside; she wanted to change his bandages, and since I felt no real affinity for the Florence Nightingale thing, I was happy to let her.

“What do you think you’re going to find out there?” Chance asked.

“Bodies.”

“How will that help us?” he demanded.

“We should be able to tell if they were killed by a human being. Or . . . not.” I didn’t elaborate; he’d sense the thing once we stepped into its domain. Frankly, the idea of doing that made me want to leave Kilmer for good, but I wouldn’t. We were too close to figuring things out.

“And if we have bodies, the authorities can’t ignore the problem any longer, or sweep it beneath the rug.”

I agreed with a nod. “A dead dog on the side of the road isn’t the same thing as a dead husband, so if we can, I’d like to find Glen, for Miz Ruth’s sake. She deserves to know, one way or another.”

“And that sheriff isn’t going to look for him,” Chance said in disgust.

Wonder of all wonders—I’d managed him. I didn’t even think he’d noticed my doing it. Instead of thinking about how it could hurt me, I’d presented him with alternative trains of thought with branching benefits. Now, to his mind, the pros outweighed the cons. Could I do that again?

Butch ran around the yard, sniffing, prancing, and eventually looking for the perfect place to do his business. Then he ran over to me and put his paw on my foot. I’d figured out that meant he wanted me to pick him up, so I did.

“There are a lot of people in town with missing loved ones. Consider Rob Walker’s family.” I named the kid from Shannon’s class who never made it out of the woods. “Who’s going to give them closure, if not us?”

“Okay,” he said, slanting his gaze upward. “It’s early enough that we can do it before dark, if you think you’re up to it.”

The liquor had mostly evaporated, and my new injuries were stinging, but I’d certainly suffered worse. It seemed a dubious accomplishment.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

He paused. “Corine, I need you to believe this—I didn’t kiss you in the bathroom because of Saldana. It may have seemed that way because of what I said afterward, but . . . woman, you were naked.”

At that, I smiled because there was no mistaking his aggrieved tone. I was willing to concede I might have misjudged him. Maybe I’d seized on the first excuse to push him away . . . because I was scared of where we were headed, and this wasn’t the time for distractions like that. I needed a clear head to do some thinking, and Chance kissing me silly wasn’t going to get that done.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Unlike other occasions where I’d said it in a way guaranteed to rile him because I refused to talk, I really wanted to forget the misunderstanding. I wouldn’t trot it out later. I wouldn’t forget what came before, though. My toes curled, just thinking about the way he’d taken control, snagged my hair, and pushed me up against the bathroom door.

“You sure?”

I nodded. “And I’m sorry I thought the worst of you. That wasn’t fair.”

He hunched his shoulders into his well-cut jacket. “I admit, I’m jealous as hell of him because he doesn’t seem to rub you wrong like I do. He makes the right moves with you easily, effortlessly, and I’d like to punch him in the face over it.” An astonishing confession, coming from Chance—he never admitted to weakness or uncertainty, never admitted to feeling much of anything at all.

Surprise washed over me. “Why are you telling me this? Before, you never told me anything.”

“I made a lot of mistakes before,” he said quietly. “I’m trying not to repeat them.”

“Why?” For all I knew, Chance could be under a geas to make amends with me. Min liked me. Based on what I’d seen in Laredo, it wouldn’t surprise me if she could do the spell. Before then I’d never have guessed she could summon the Knights of Hell to do her bidding. “It’s past.”

“You don’t want to think about what might have been? In fact, you’d probably prefer to forget we were ever together. God help me, maybe we can even be friends, right? Well, I refuse. I refuse to let you write us off.”

I started to say that he hadn’t answered my question, but he sealed his fingers against my mouth as if he wanted to kiss me quiet, and then went on. “I haven’t forgotten anything. I don’t want to. I still have all your books at home—did you know that?”

I did now. Sometimes I missed our place on Harbour Island. I missed swinging by his mother’s homeopathy shop and going over to her house for dinner on weekends when we weren’t traveling for a job. Chance and Min had become the closest thing to family I’d known in years.

A pang hit me as I remembered decorating the loft with him: how we’d discussed the placement of a statue I set on the corner of the counter that opened the kitchen to the living room and how he hadn’t wanted to put any