Hell Fire

the hardwood floor. Chance came in, wearing charcoal dress slacks paired with a black and silver striped shirt. He flashed me an admiring look.

“We match.” He seemed pleased, reaching out a hand to smooth the hair that fell past my shoulder. “You look gorgeous. Witchy hot.”

I felt the sheepish curve to my answering smile. “Too obvious?”

Chance shook his head. “No, it’s great. Should be funny.”

From her place at the corner of the sofa, legs curled under her, Shannon stifled a snicker. “For sure.”

“What’s wrong with you people?” Jesse asked. “You don’t show up empty-handed.” With a grin, he flourished a pan.

I stepped forward for a peek beneath the foil and then blinked at him. “You were making a cobbler in there?”

Not being overly domestic, I hadn’t recognized what he was doing when I’d wandered in and out. Impressive—he’d baked dessert out of the bare staples we had on hand. Jesse Saldana would make a great husband, no doubt about it. For a few seconds, I imagined him in nothing but an apron, but I didn’t know where else to go with that mental image, so I shooed it out.

Jesse playfully smacked my hands away, giving me a little grin. “Yeah. My mama taught me. I have two older brothers, and she got tired of waiting for a daughter.”

“So Jesse is short for Jessica,” Chance said with a smirk.

Was Jesse’s family worried about him? Shit. I had nobody, and Chance had only his mom. We weren’t exactly poster children for normal relationships. Maybe that was why we’d gravitated together. I tried to see myself assimilating into what I imagined to be the big, boisterous Saldana clan.

Jesse slapped Chance upside the head in answer as he went out to the Forester.

I glanced down at Butch, who was waiting expectantly by the front door. “You want to come?”

He yapped once.

Why did I bother asking? This dog didn’t like letting me out of his sight. Given what he’d been through, I couldn’t blame him. There was no point in asking him to behave himself, and he seemed to find the request offensive. It wasn’t like he’d ever given me any trouble, apart from the time he’d run off into the woods. I wished he could give me some more insight as to why he’d done that, but we were limited to yes and no questions.

As I headed out, I reflected that it was sweet that Officer Saldana had church-going in his past. That certainly dovetailed with his becoming a cop to fight for truth and justice. Climbing into the front, I realized I could easily fall in love with him.

“I got an answer about the restless dead,” Jesse told me, sliding in back. “But we need a witch or a medium to lead us in the ritual.”

Well, the witch from Atlanta might be able to take care of that, but I hoped we wouldn’t be here in two weeks. So it looked like we were on our own. Given the state of the town, it was probably just as well.

Shannon drove because she knew the way. The guys didn’t seem to mind that we were both in the front, and I figured it was my turn. I brooded all the way to the Methodist church, a sprawling white stone building with an ostentatious steeple.

“Someone’s compensating,” I muttered. I quite forgot I was talking about Shannon’s grandpa.

She cut me a disgusted look. “That’s . . . so wrong.”

Belatedly, I remembered she had said he had the place built before she was born. The lot was lit up like a bingo parlor in marked contrast to the dark all around the place. Cars crowded the parking lot; some had overflowed to the street and the neighboring field. It seemed everyone who was anyone in Kilmer attended the weekly potluck.

“You guys ready for this?” I asked, hopping down from the SUV. The chill in the night air swirled my words around in a white mist.

“Absolutely,” said Chance.

With no forethought, we fell into Reservoir Dogs-style formation, with Jesse leading the way. I had to admit, it amused the crap out of me to stroll into this holiest of holy buildings behind a blue-haired septuagenarian. If she hadn’t been tiny and doddering, I have no doubt she would have favored us with a sniff and a disapproving glare.

My first thought as we stepped into the hall was, Who the hell knew there were so many flowered dresses in the world? Older women stuck to gray, black and white, or navy; young ones ran around in pastels. They were unified by the floral prints.

Men, on the other hand, wore button-up shirts and belted slacks in varying hues. Everyone milled around, talking a mile a minute, while a handful of women fussed over a table laden with food. Kids wove in and out, playing tag around the masses. It was at once completely wholesome and achingly foreign.

Despite the darkness plaguing this town, I sensed such genuine warmth. The normal folk here cared about one another. When a stout, middle-aged lady crossed the room and gave a hugely pregnant young woman a hug, she meant it.

I smiled as she rubbed the woman’s stomach. “Oh, you’re carrying low this time, Millie. Must be a boy.”

The younger woman giggled. “I sure hope so. Dan’s out of patience with the girls.”

Conversation paused as people noticed us. All of us wore black in some form, but Shannon and I stood out more than the guys. In button-up shirts and dress slacks, they both fell within the bounds of normal for this gathering, even if Chance was one hundred percent more urbane than the elder gentleman wearing polyester pants and a plaid shirt.

Before I could think better of this idea, Jesse took my hand in his and led me toward the buffet. I followed since he qualified as our ranking expert on such occasions. He gave the woman in charge his extra-sweet smile and proffered the pan.

“Here you go.” At her questioning look, he clarified. “Peach cobbler. Mrs. Walker invited us here tonight.”

I didn’t know whether that was true, as Chance had spirited me away before they finished in the forest. Even if it wasn’t, her suspicion melted into a warm welcome. A round little pigeon of a woman, she came around the table, practically cooing with delight.

“You’re the hikers,” she exclaimed. “The ones who found Robert Walker. Oh, mercy me, I’m so glad you came. I heard on the prayer chain all about how you waited with the poor boy out in the woods. Not everyone would’ve done that.” I had no idea what a prayer chain was, but she seemed to think our actions stemmed from respect rather than a fear the corpse would vanish. She couldn’t know too much about the secret workings of Kilmer, then.

Jesse made small talk, thanking her for making us feel at home, while Chance and Shannon stood mute. The woman introduced herself as Alice Buckner, chair of the social committee. We shook hands, and I must admit, she seemed genuinely pleased to see us. I wasn’t used to that.

Alice pointed out various people of interest from the Who’s Who of Kilmer. I recognized Phil Regis, the real estate agent, towering over a truly diminutive woman. Why did giants always go for the daintiest flower they could find? He raised his glass in my direction, and I smiled. His wife caught my gaze and gave a sweet little nod. I spotted Ms. Pettigrew watching them from across the room with sadness in her eyes.

“Have you ever been out to the bar outside town?” I asked Alice, somewhat abruptly, if her expression offered any clue as to her feelings.

“Oh my, no,” she said. “I think my Harold has a nip out there every now and again, but it’s not really a respectable place.”

“Because they sell liquor?” Chance asked. “Or because it’s a new business?”

Interesting question. Perspicacious too, I thought. I waited for her answer.

Alice thought about that. “A bit of both? We’re not a dry county by any means, but too much drinking leads to”—she struggled for the right word—“shenanigans.”

Shannon looked like she wanted to laugh. “What exactly is a shenanigan, Mrs. Buckner?” she managed to ask with a straight face.

The older woman leveled an assessing look on Shannon. “You think you’re so clever, missy. But here you are in church again, no matter what you told your grandpa.”

If I wasn’t mistaken, that qualified as a polite, ladylike burn. I smothered a grin as Shannon lapsed into