Bone Dry

Slaton. Once it was destroyed, he could relax, let the cops sniff around all they want. But the thought of going into Maria’s cottage sent chills down his spine. If she had half the powers of Aunt Sofia, she could put some kind of wicked-ass curse on him and make him fall dead in his tracks. And there was that damned cat, too. A thing of pure evil. If it attacked, he’d be done for.

On the other hand, he’d rather be dead than go to prison. If he could just talk some sense into Maria, keep her calm, maybe the cat would stay calm, too. It was the only option Sal had.

He gave it a good thirty minutes, then stuck his head into the bedroom. Angela was out cold.

He clomped down the hallway on his crutches and went out the back door. Good. There was still a light in Maria’s window. He followed the path to her cottage.

Thomas Peabody double-checked his supplies, found everything in order, and set off through the darkness. He moved slowly, painstakingly. Stealth was imperative now. One small error could mean disaster.

Maria was sitting cross-legged on the floor, meditating, feeling more at peace with the world than she had in years. At the center of it all was this wonderful man named Smedley. He had been a sensitive, caring lover… though his sudden departure had left her a little puzzled. But he would come back-she was certain of it. Why else would he have left behind his badge and his gun? She had not known Smedley was a police officer, but now that she knew, it made her feel protected. She would have felt uneasy being involved with a police officer back in Guatemala, for they were often corrupt and immoral. But here in the United States, it was known as an honorable and noble profession. Holding the badge in her hand, caressing its gentle curves, gave her a feeling of security. The gun, however, made Maria very nervous. She had even draped a towel over it to help her put it out of mind.

Maria meditated for ten more minutes and was just about to go to bed when there was a knock on the door. She was startled at first, and she instinctively flinched.

Just as she was wondering if perhaps Smedley had returned, she heard Mr. Mameli calling out to her. It had been seven days since Maria had been subjected to Mr. Mameli’s advances, and she had hoped he would no longer try to inflict his abuse. Obviously, though, Mr. Mameli had no intention of leaving her alone.

He knocked again, more firmly this time, and called her name once more.

Much to Maria’s surprise, the feeling of dread that normally accompanied the sound of her employer’s voice had vanished. In its place were anger and outrage and defiance. Her relationship with Smedley had somehow liberated her, transforming her meek submissiveness into a steely resolve. Tonight, she said to herself, it will all end!

Maria Consuelo Garcia Rodriguez had had enough!

She made a move to lock the door but was not fast enough. The doorknob turned, and Mr. Mameli limped into the room on his crutches. He gave her a large, false smile, the type Americans were always giving.

“Go away!” she hissed at him. She suddenly remembered she was dressed in nothing but a long nightshirt that draped to her thighs-but instead of feeling a sense of vulnerability, she now felt empowered and strong. “You go now!” she hissed again.

He made a meaningless gesture with his hands. “Aw, come on, Maria. Don’t get all crazy on me,” he said, his eyes darting left and right. “I just need to get something from you.”

Maria knew exactly what that something was-and she vowed that he would never “get it” again.

Sal was relieved that the cat was nowhere to be seen-but Maria was the problem right now. She had it all wrong. All he wanted was the damn bullet shell from around her neck. He could see it now, plain as day, glistening on her necklace.

Peabody made his way to the first BrushBuster, one of six hunched together on the west side of Sal Mameli’s house. There was a structure on the east side of the residence-a cottage of some sort-but it was too far away to be of concern. He went to the closest tree-cutter and unscrewed the gas cap.

Mr. Mameli was blatantly staring at her chest now, and Maria responded by planting her feet squarely and giving him an icy stare. She was giddy with power, and she was delighted to see the fear in Mr. Mameli’s eyes.

He took another step forward on his crutches, asking her to calm down. Nonsense! She would never be calm again in the face of oppression!

He reached out toward her breasts and she swatted his hands away. He flinched, like a small child caught misbehaving. He reached again. And Maria was surprised by the harsh words she heard leaving her throat: “Go to hell!”

Peabody struck the match, touched it to the trail of gasoline on the ground, and sprinted like a jackrabbit back to the woods.

It was so close, just inches from his fingertips. If only Sal could make Maria understand. All he wanted was the shell-the goddamn shell. He reached for it again…and she cursed him! In a voice full of rage, the witch told him to go to hell! But it was more than her anger, it was the evil gleam in her eye that sent a shudder through his body and caused a tremble in his hands.

And at that moment, she fully unleashed her powers.

A series of deafening explosions ripped the night, and the earth rocked beneath Sal’s feet. He fell to the floor and curled into a fetal position, waiting for some hideous winged demon to pull him into a fiery eternity.

He peeked through his fingers. Maria was silhouetted against the window, the sky behind her glowing an eerie orange.

Marlin was lying in bed, Inga dozing beside him, when the phone rang. Ten-thirty. Could be a poaching call, but Marlin decided to let the machine get it. If it was important, he’d pick it up. He heard Bobby Garza’s voice…

“John, it’s Bobby. Just wanted to see if you were watching KHIL right now. Good news, buddy. Jack Corey has finally surrendered. He just came out about ten minutes ago and I wanted you to know. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. It’s gonna be a big day. I’ve got some guys coming from the Army Corps of Engineers to inspect the dam. Toby Gardner already has the floodgates open, and he says the reservoir should be down twenty feet in forty-eight hours. Just wanted to keep you posted. Good work, my man. Hell of a job.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Marlin’s phone rang again at seven-thirty the next morning, rousing him from a deep slumber. It had been months since he’d slept so late. Beside him, Inga muttered something sleepily and pulled a pillow over her head.

He picked up the phone. “This is Marlin.”

It was Garza, breathless on the other end. “John, can you hear me? It’s Bobby.” The connection was weak and full of static, but there was no mistaking what Garza said next. “It looks like we found him, John. We found Emmett Slaton.”

Sal was on the couch, the television murmuring in the background, while he tried to recover from the hellish night he had had. He had almost pushed Maria too far, he knew that. Worse than that, he had gone about it all wrong, didn’t use his goddamn brain. The truth was, there was no need to confront Maria at all. All he had to do was wait until she wasn’t wearing the necklace, send her and Angela to the grocery store, then raid Maria’s room. It would be much easier that way, and he could avoid Maria’s wrath.

He thought about last night, and it made him shudder. After the explosions, when the cops had finally left and the firefighters cleared out, he had freaked out a little in front of Vinnie and Angela. He had had a moment of stupidity and tried to make them see that it was all Maria’s work, that she had used her powers to rain fire down upon him. But they had looked at him as if he was going fucking crazy and asked if he wanted to see a doctor. In the end, he had decided it was best to keep his knowledge about Maria’s powers to himself. He accepted the sleeping pill that Angela had offered in the middle of the night, and eventually fell into a fitful, horrifying slumber.

He had had a nightmare, one in which Maria had caused him to slice open his own bowels with a rusty knife.