hand of hate 01 - destiny blues Read online

  I drove past Merle Shine’s Pest Control on Seneca Avenue, about a mile past City Hall. As I cruised by, I checked out the parking lot, which looked pretty full. I still had twenty minutes before my appointment, plenty of time. I zipped past four more blocks to the Spanky Kleen Laundry, situated in a tired strip mall on the seedy edge of an industrial neighborhood. This was not a great part of town. My knees had stiffened up on the drive over and I hobbled inside with my dirty laundry.

  I’d never used this place before, and it wasn’t as nice as my usual spot, Tidy Whiteys. I debated leaving my undies unattended, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I filled the washers, added detergent, and fed my quarters into the slots. I was ready to go meet Merle.

  I limped back out to my car, put on my seatbelt, and started up the engine. I released the parking brake and put the car in reverse before checking the rear-view mirror. I’d barely touched the gas pedal when I noticed a third djemon staring at me from the backseat.

  I froze, my body clenched into a rigid spasm of revulsion. My foot stomped the pedal to the metal, and Trusty Rusty zoomed backwards across the parking lot. My hands gripped the steering wheel in a white-knuckled vise. A nausea of disgust washed over me, petrifying my foot on the gas. I prayed there was nothing behind me.

  With a loud bang, the car collided with something solid and bucked me right out of my seat. For the second time that day, velocity held me airborne. My stomach rolled and my foot slipped off the gas pedal. The car jerked to an abrupt stop beneath me and I slammed back to earth. The engine died without a whimper. The silence was deafening.

  CHAPTER 6

  My heart pounded with a sick sensation. “Enough already, I can’t take this!” I shook myself against the steering wheel.

  No one seemed to have noticed anything. Fortunately for me, the strip mall did not appear to offer much in the way of commercial viability, as the parking lot appeared mostly empty, and no one had come running out to investigate. I checked the side mirrors, but didn’t see any bodies.

  I couldn’t believe how narrowly I’d escaped killing anyone. Twice. I forced myself to unclench and made a quick physical inventory. No new injuries, thank you very much. I rubbed the sweat off my face with a jittery hand.

  “Look what you made me do, you little shits.” I glared at the stupid things behind me. The new guy reminded me of the bearded dragon lizard Lance kept as a pet when we were kids. Heavily-muscled jaws sported a wide reptilian smile. A regular Larry the Lizard. A fit of hysterical giggling came over me. In no time, I was cackling like a mad rooster. I clamped my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes. Get a grip.

  I climbed out of the car and gingerly walked around to inspect for damage. We hadn’t crashed or anything, but the Honda now straddled a cement parking block, and poor old Rusty had a flat. Dang.

  I gave the tire a couple of halfhearted kicks, but it was kablooey. A nasty hole bloomed where the bald tire had blown out. I thought about the spare in the trunk, but I was worried about the time. An auto parts store stood two doors over. I debated going over and asking for help, but decided I didn’t need to mess around with this right now. If I didn’t start walking, I’d be late. That flat wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Looks like you could use some help,” my brother’s voice sounded behind me.

  My heart sank. Lance strolled toward me from the direction of the Vinnie’s Auto Parts. Oh boy, this was perfect.

  We have different fathers, and except for our smiles, don’t appear related. I’m dark-haired with a natural tan. Lance is ten years older than me; tall and lean, with slicked-back blond hair curling around his ears. When he smiles, he gives Brad Pitt a run for his money. Most women tended to overlook the work-stained mechanics overalls and black fingernails. He carried a box of parts carelessly under one arm. What was he doing here?

  I looked around. “Where’s your car?”

  He nodded toward the sleek torpedo shape of a vintage yellow Jag convertible. Must be a customer car. Lance had practically raised me, and had been appointed my legal guardian when I was sixteen. Any other day, I would have been glad to see him, but not today, and definitely not at this particular moment. I had to get out of here.

  “What happened?”

  A trickle of sweat rolled past my ear.

  “Ah, nothing. Just a little accident.” I choked back a giggle. “I ah, guess my foot slipped.”

  Lance set the box down on the pavement and leaned over to inspect my rear wheel; hung up on the wrong side of the parking block, and noted the flat. He took the keys out of my hand and opened the trunk without saying anything. I fidgeted impatiently as he lifted out the jack and tire iron.

  “Do we have to do this now? I’m kinda running late for something.”

  Lance gave me a sharp look. Too late, I shouldn’t have said anything. If he suspected what I was up to, I’d never hear the end of it. I glanced down the street to where Merle’s sign beckoned to me.

  “What are you doing here, Matt?” He appeared calm, his movements slow and sure as he loosened the lug nuts on Rusty’s rear wheel.

  I blew my breath out my cheeks.

  “Laundry.” I squeaked, and pointed to the Spanky Kleen. “I figured I’d try this place. What are you doing here?”

  “This is not a good part of town. The police found another Night Shark victim half a block from here this morning.”

  So that was what sent them off in such a rush. “I had no idea. Thanks for the tip.” I edged closer to the sidewalk.

  Lance slipped the jack under the rear bumper and gave the lever a few slow pumps. I could tell he had something on his mind. I hoped he’d get to the point pretty soon.

  “Listen, I’ve got an errand to run. Do you mind if I, ah--”

  “I talked to Kip.”

  I kicked at the asphalt in frustration. “Why does he keep calling you? He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” I could feel destiny slipping though my fingers.

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  “No.” I struggled to keep my emotions off my face as I gave him my highly-edited short version, and he pretended to believe me.

  “Suspension isn’t so bad.”

  Before I could answer, a black and white cruised up beside us. I gazed over into the grinning faces of Picston’s finest, Bart Kitterman and Jason Jaekel, better known as Heckle and Jeckle. Bart was a second-generation policeman, and the first boy I ever kissed. I’d known him all my life. Jason was a loudmouth jerk and Kip’s best friend.

  I groaned. Any chance I had of getting to Merle Shine’s today had just about left the station. Sorry Merle. All that begging to get that appointment down the drain. Man oh man, could this day possibly get any worse? Of course the whole police department must have heard about my suspension by now. Probably the fire department, too.

  “Hey look, it’s Mad Mattie,” Kitterman said. “What’s the problem, beautiful? Need some driving lessons?” They both hooted with laughter. I rolled my eyes and grinned in spite of myself.

  I used to wish Bart’s dad was my father. Hank Kitterman was the neighborhood cop who showed up when people complained about the noise every time Mom’s s drug-dealing ‘boyfriends’ beat the crap out of her. To me, police officers represented everything noble and respectable; they brought order to chaos. To a kid growing up on the wrong side of the tracks, Officer Kitterman was Superman. He’d inspired the dream in me to become a cop. I wanted to be just like him.

  “Very funny.” I smoothed my hair. These two would show me no mercy.

  “Hey, maybe all you need is some training wheels. I’ll ask my four-year old if you can borrow hers. You’ll like ‘em, Mattie, they’re pink.” Bart winked at me.

  “Don’t you two have crimes to investigate or something? Bad guys to arrest?”

  “I’m lookin’ at you, Blackman,” Jason answered. “You wreak havoc and mayhem wherever you go.”

  The smile faded from my face. “No donuts for you, Jerkle.”

  “Is that the be
st you can do? You’re losing your touch.”

  “Now now, kiddies, play nice.” Kitterman nodded to Lance. “Hey McNair, how’s it going?”

  Lance stood and casually draped an arm over my shoulder. I leaned into him. I had to give Lance a lot of credit. He looked out for me, but never tried to make me feel like an idiot when he did so. Most of the time he hung back until I worked things out on my own. We both knew these guys enjoyed yanking my chain, but at this particular moment, I was glad to have Lance around. He raced motorcycles when he was younger, and in addition to being the best mechanic around, my brother was way cool.

  “We’re just about done here, fellas, but thanks for asking.” He let go of me and went back to the wheel. With an easy movement, he lifted the old tire off the axel and laid it on the ground, then picked up the spare and placed it into position with no apparent effort.

  “Lance told me you guys found another body today.”

  Jason nodded. “Not a pretty sight.”

  “We’re stepping up patrols in the neighborhood, looking for any suspicious activity.” Kitterman watched Lance with a speculative expression. The police radio bleeped out a garbled message, and then both officers went to work.

  “Okay Mattie; we’ll leave you to your knitting. See you in the funny papers.” Kitterman grinned like the madman he was, and gave me a little toodle-oo finger wave. He gunned the engine and they sped off with lights flashing.

  I sighed and crumpled to the pavement next to Lance.

  “Cop groupie.”

  “Shut up, grease monkey.”

  “Every time one of those guys shows up, you go all gaga.”

  “My life is in the toilet and you call me names. Why can’t you do something constructive?”

  “I’m fixing your flat, lady. And you’re welcome. What’s the matter with you?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. Thanks.” I rested my chin on my hands. “What time is it, anyway?”

  “A little after six. Why so grumpy?”

  I groaned and struggled to my feet again, knees as stiff as cardboard. “This day is a total loss.” My stomach growled in agreement.

  Lance squinted up at the late afternoon sun. “I don’t know. You up for some Shanghai Palace? I’m buyin’.” He picked up a lug nut and screwed it tight.

  Kung Pau at Shanghai Palace is my favorite meal, but Lance never, ever paid. “What do you want?”

  “I need a favor.” He grinned at me as he tightened another lug nut.

  “Of course you do.” We grinned at each other.

  “I need you to stay with Mina for a few days.” He tightened down the last nut and reached for the tire iron.

  Surprise, surprise. Lance and Violet had split up when Mina was three, but Violet got full custody. A compulsive gambler, Lance spent a couple stays in rehab before he’d been successful in persuading Violet and the courts to allow him shared custody. Since then, Lance had not once left town or stayed out late or even had an overnight guest whenever Mina stayed with him. Violet remarried last year, and Lance worried his ex-wife would try to gain sole custody again.

  “As it happens I’ve recently become available for full-time babysitting. What’s up?”

  “Thanks. By the way, they brought the remains of your scooter into the shop today. Bang-up job there, Mattie.”

  The city has their own mechanic, but Lance and his partner Doc have a contract with the city for major bodywork. His blue eyes stared into mine. I wondered what was important enough to make him decide to leave town when he had Mina.

  “Har-dee-har-har, funny-man. I told you it was an accident. End of story.”

  “I’ll bet.” He picked up the tire iron and tightened the wheel nuts.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “You’ll need to take her to summer school and back every day.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I remember.”

  “Both hands on the wheel. Make sure you’re both wearing seatbelts.”

  “Duh. Give me a break, Lance. It’s just a run of bad luck.”

  “Well, whatever it is, stop screwing around while you’ve got Mina with you.” He leaned over and braced himself at the back bumper. “You ready? Let’s get you unstuck.”

  All three of my inner demons were still sitting in the back, stinking up my car. I got in and started the engine. With a bit of steady pressure on the gas and a push from Lance, Rusty scooted off the jack, over the concrete backstop and bounced to the pavement with a thump. Lance packed up my dead tire and tools.

  I scampered back in to the Laundromat and moved my clothes into dryers. With the day a total shambles and my big plan shot to hell, I decided to make the best of a bad deal. I dumped my remaining quarters into the big dryer, and walked back to my car.

  “You’re all set. No more accidents or I’ll give Kitterman a call about those driving lessons. I mean it.”

  “Oh you’re hilarious. Thanks for the help, but I’m not sharing any of my Kung Pau with you.”

  “Meet you there, brat.” He sauntered over to the Jag and folded himself in. He started the engine, and I followed him back to Shore Haven. Five minutes later, I realized he hadn’t told me why he was leaving town or even where he was going. That wasn’t like Lance. That made two of us with secrets.

  CHAPTER 7

  I had barely finished unloading my wad of clothes from the dryer at Spanky Kleen when my phone rang.

  “Abbot’s in five,” was all Karen said.

  “I’m in Picston, make it fifteen.” I grabbed the basket and threw the whole shebang into the backseat. Rusty fired up on the first try, and off we zoomed.

  Karen and I had been solving the world’s problems at Abbott’s Frozen Custard since fourth grade. When the summer steam bath weather hits upstate New York, the humidity doesn’t give up when the sun goes down. To escape the oppressive evening mugginess, folks headed either to an air-conditioned bar or Abbot’s Drive Thru.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror at the row of bulbous yellow eyes staring at my back. Sheesh. This wasn’t an embarrassment anymore, it was a collection. The new guys brought their own eye-squinting blend to my olfactory misery. The fanged toad added a gorge-grabbing touch of dirty cat box, while Larry spiced things up with a not so subtle twist of sulphur. The three of them together combined to make an aromatic essence which neither the open windows nor a hit from a fresh dryer sheet could disperse.

  Karen and I arrived at the same time, and settled at a picnic table beneath the hazy night skies and neon lights of Abbots. Karen is a willowy blonde with blue eyes, a pixie haircut, and freckles that cover every square inch of her anatomy. As kids, we were as inseparable as twins, as teens, partners in crime, and now that she had a husband and children of her own, bosom friends who didn’t get to spend nearly enough time together. She gazed at me expectantly.

  “What’s up?”

  I took a deep breath. “You have to promise not to say anything to anyone. Not even Martin.”

  “Ooh, I’m intrigued.” She hunkered down and leaned forward. “Do tell.”

  “I mean it. If this gets out, I’m moving to another state.”

  “Oh come on, how bad can it be? The boys came down with head lice again last week. I get the icks just thinking about it.” She scratched her neck. “I have been doing laundry for days. And will you look at what that shampoo has done to my hair?”

  “This is a lot worse than a bad hair day, believe me.”

  “What? Is it rats? I thought you said you were going to get a new cat--”

  “No, shush.” I glanced around to make sure no one else was close enough to listen in and leaned forward. “I’ve got teratosis.”

  She grimaced and pulled away, her eyes as big as walnuts. “Ew!” She caught herself and apologized immediately. “Oh Mattie, I’m sorry, I just never expected to hear you say that.”

  “Oh, I shouldn’t have told you.”

  She grabbed my hand. “Oh you know I’m here for you.”

  “I misse
d my extermination appointment today at Merle Shines. It’s going to take me another two or three weeks to get rebooked.” I started to tell her about the accident, and she cut me off.

  “I already heard. I work with Lacey Lippman’s sister, remember?”

  I groaned. “Oh I’m sure everybody’s heard about my suspension by now. I’m never going to live this down. That’s why nobody can find out about this. Gossip spreads like an oil fire in this town.”

  “Why are you always so worried about what everybody else thinks?”

  “Easy for you to say, you’re not the one with an un-materialized djemon trailing around behind you, stinking up your life. And I think I must’ve caught a really bad case. I’ve got three of them.”

  She snorted. “You’re talking crazy.”

  “I thought so too, until today. When the second one showed up this morning, it made me wreck the trike. The third one showed up when I was at the Spanky-Kleen.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t have more than one demon. Everybody knows that. What makes you think they’re demons?”

  “What else could they be? These things are real. The only other explanation I found for hallucinations was schizophrenia.” My voice faltered, and I fought to blink back my darkest fear. My mind flashed on a secret memory of my mother, her eyes wild, her manic face ravaged by years of alcohol and drug abuse as she screamed incoherently at Lance and me. Doctors debated whether or not schizophrenia was inherited.

  “You poor thing. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was hoping I could get this cleared up before anyone found out, and I would have, except for what happened today. I can’t take much more of this. This is serious. If I don’t get rid of these soon, these demons will show up for real. Either that, or I really am going crazy and I’m going to end up like mom. I’ll lose my job for sure. My life will be ruined.”

  She ran her fingers through her cropped hair. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t think you’re crazy, but if they’re demons, you can’t have more than one. What do you think they are?”