Nora Roberts - The Pagan Stone

“My girlfriend hadn’t come along, he would’ve done more. He was working himself up to it.” Gage leaned over, kissed Joanne’s cheek. “Thanks, honey.”

“Cut that out or I’m telling my father.” Fox leaned closer to Gage. “Was it just Nap the Prick, or was it more?”

“I can’t say for certain, but we all know Napper doesn’t need demonic help being a violent bastard. Just him, I think. He got worried when I mentioned I had plate numbers for about six cars that went by while he was shoving me around.”

Gage glanced toward the closed office door when Napper’s voice boomed out. “Fuck you, then. I quit.” He burst out a moment later, rage burning in his eyes.

Gage noted his sidearm was missing. “There won’t always be a slut around for you bastards to hide behind.” He slammed out the front door of the station.

“Did he mean me or Jenny Mullendore was a slut?” Joanne wondered. “Because honestly, I don’t see how she has time for slut activities with those two preschoolers of hers. Me, I’ve got lots of time.”

“Okay, Mom.” Fox patted her arm, then rose when Hawbaker stepped out of his office.

“I want to apologize to you, Joanne, for the unacceptable behavior of one of my deputies. I’d appreciate it if you’d file that complaint. I’d like to apologize to you, Gage, on behalf of my department for the harassment. Mrs. Mullendore’s statement jibed with what you told me. I realize you’re within your rights to file a civil action. I will tell you that due to the circumstances, I suspended Deputy Napper, with the intention of conducting a full investigation of this matter. He has elected to resign from the department.”

“That works for me.” Gage got to his feet.

“Unofficially, I’m going to tell you, all of you-and you can pass this to Cal, because it seems to me Derrick sees you as one. You be careful. You watch your backs. He’s… volatile. I can have you taken back to your car, Gage, if you want.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Fox told Hawbaker. “You watch your back, too. Napper holds grudges.”

GAGE PLANNED TO HEAD STRAIGHT BACK TO CAL’S, grab a shower, some food, maybe some sleep. But impulse pushed him to the rental house. Cybil stood out front, in shorts and a tank that showed off long legs and long arms, and watered the pots and baskets of flowers scattered around the entrance.

She lowered the big, galvanized can, and strolled down to meet him. “I heard you had a busy morning.”

“No secrets in the Hollow.”

“Oh, a few. Is everything all right now?”

“I’m not in jail and Napper no longer works for the town police.”

“Both good news.” She angled her head. “How pissed off are you? It’s difficult to tell.”

“Only mildly at this point. During? I wanted to kick his ass out into the road and stomp on his face. It’s hard to resist that kind of pleasure. But…”

“A man who controls himself has a better chance of winning.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, you won this one. Are you coming in, or passing by?”

Step back, go home, Gage told himself. “Any chance of getting a meal around here?”

“There might be. I guess you’ve earned it.”

When she turned, Gage took her arm. “I wasn’t going to come here today. I don’t know why I did.”

“For a meal?”

He pulled her to him, took her lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. “No. I don’t know what this is, this you and me. I don’t know if I like it.”

“At least we’re in step there because neither do I.”

“If we’re alive come mid-July, I’m gone.”

“So am I.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay. No strings on you, no strings on me.” But she brushed her hands through his hair and kissed him, warmly, again. “Gage, there are a lot more important things to worry about here than what this you-and-me thing might be.”

“I don’t lie to women, and I don’t like to misdirect them either. That’s all.”

“So noted. I don’t like to be lied to, but I have a habit of picking my own direction. Do you want to come in and have that meal?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

HE PUT FLOWERS ON HIS MOTHER’S GRAVE, AND she reached up, a slim hand spearing through earth and grass, to take them. As Gage stood in the flood of sunlight, in the quiet cemetery with its somber stones, his heart slammed into his throat. Draped in innocent white, she ascended-pretty and pale from the maw of dirt-clutching the bouquet like a bride her wedding roses.

Had they buried her in white? He didn’t know.

“You used to bring me dandelions, and the wild butter-cups and violets that colored the little hill near our house in the summer.”

His throat ached, straining to hold his trembling heart. “I remember.”

“Do you?” She sniffed the roses, red as blood against her white dress. “It’s hard to know what little boys remember, what little boys forget. We used to take walks in the woods, and in the fields. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“There are houses in the fields now, where we used to walk. But we could walk here, for a little while.”

Her skirts billowed as she turned, and with his flowers cradled in the crook of her arm, began to walk. “There’s so little time left,” she said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back, not after what happened when you were here last.” She looked into his eyes. “I couldn’t stop it. It’s very strong, and getting stronger.”

“I know that, too.”

“I’m proud of you for staying, for being brave. Whatever happens, I want you to know I’m proud of you. If… If you fail, I’ll be waiting for you. I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“It feeds on fear.”

She looked at him again. A sleek black hornet crawled out from the delicate petals of a rose, but she looked nowhere but at him. “On many things. It’s had an eternity to develop its appetites. If you could stop it…”

“We will stop it.”

“How? There are only a few weeks left, such a little bit of time. What can you do this time you didn’t do before? Except be brave. What do you plan to do?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“You’re still looking for answers, with time running out.” Her smile was soft as she nodded, soft as a second hornet, then a third squirmed, black on red. “You were always a brave and stubborn boy. All those years your father had to punish you.”

“Had to?”

“What choice did he have? Don’t you remember what you did?”

“What did I do?”

“You killed me, and your sister. Don’t you remember? We were walking in the fields, just like this, and you ran. Even when I told you not to, you ran and ran, and fell. You cried so hard, poor little boy.” Her smile was full, and somehow luminous, as the roses disgorged hornets. And the hornets began to hum.

“Your knees were all scraped and scratched. So I had to carry you, and the weight of you, the strain of it, was too much for me. You see?”

She spread her arms and the white gown blossomed with blood. Hornets swarmed in buzzing black clouds until even the roses bled. “Only a few days later, the blood and the pain. From you, Gage.”

“It’s a lie.” It was Cybil who spoke, who was suddenly at his side. “You’re a lie. Gage, it’s not your mother.”

“I know.”

“She’s not so pretty now,” it said. “Want to see?”

The white dress thinned to filthy rags over rotted flesh. It laughed and laughed as fat worms writhed through the flesh, as the flesh gave way to bone.

“How about you?” it said to Cybil. “Want to see Daddy?”

The bones re-formed into a man with sightless eyes and a charming grin. “There’s my princess! Come give Daddy a kiss!”