Dark Rite

Chapter 12

Grant rolled into town, his mood as black as the clouds that hung low on the horizon. He knew Cassie hadn't taken off on her own, but the slightest doubt remained. What if she really had left? He couldn't entirely blame her if she had. Her life sucked. But he was sure he'd felt a connection between them, and she had indicated she was tired of Carl. Then again, she'd also indicated that she couldn't seem to shake the guy.

“What am I doing?” he said aloud. “Pull yourself together, Grant.” He steered the car into a parking space on the main drag and sat for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

He wanted two things: answers about Kaletherex, and to find Cassie. If Cassie had left of her own accord, there probably wasn't much he could do about it. If she hadn’t, he was convinced the key to finding her lay with whatever secret hid behind the sinister name. Maybe he was stuck in Wallen’s Gap for a while longer after all. After a few minutes' contemplation, he decided to give the library another go.

Since he already had a library card, he was able to avoid another annoying question-and-answer session with the aged librarian, and got right to work. Settling in at one of the computer stations, he decided to take a different tack. McKenzie had known something about Kaletherex, so he decided to start by researching the recently-deceased professor.

The first several results were accounts of the unsolved murder, sudden big news in the area, but at the bottom of the page he found a link to the professor's page on the college website. He skimmed the brief bio and list of publishing credits, and one title leaped out at him. Ancient Mysticism in Appalachia. That sounded promising.

A quick web search revealed the book was out of print and unavailable in electronic form, but when he checked the library catalog, he was surprised to find it listed. His sudden euphoria turned quickly to disappointment when he saw that the book was checked out. He muttered a curse, drawing the attention of the librarian, who frowned and raised a finger to her lips. Since she and Grant were the only people in the place, shushing him was a bit absurd, but he didn't want to get on her bad side just now. He nodded and adopted a duly chastened expression.

He made a few more fruitless web searches and then, on a whim, checked to see if Cassie had a Facebook page. No luck. He sighed. The book was his only possible lead. Time to go for it.

He approached the front desk and waited politely while the librarian pretended not to notice him. She puttered about, shifting items around and opening drawers to inspect their contents. She was clearly doing no actual work. Finally, she let out a deep sigh and looked up.

“I was interested in a particular book,” Grant said, forcing a smile, “but it's checked out. Any chance you could tell me when it's due to be returned?” He handed her a slip of paper with the title and author.

Pursing her lips, she turned the paper over and examined the back for some inexplicable reason. She stared at Grant for five uncomfortable heartbeats before nodding and turning to her computer.

“It is long overdue,” she said after a few mouse clicks. “Let me see. Oh.” Her wrinkled faced reddened. “I'm afraid I can't help you.”

Grant couldn't believe his shitty luck. “Can you at least tell me who was the last person to check it out?”

The woman looked him in the eye, seeming to really see him for the first time.

“Andrew Shipman.”

Grant wandered out of the library in a half-daze. Here was a solid connection. There had to be something in McKenzie's book that could help him understand what the hell his father had been into. Now, if he could only find the book. Surely it was somewhere in all the boxes he'd packed up.

He was so deep in thought that he almost walked right into the girl leaning against his car. He looked up in surprise as she greeted him.

“Hey there. You're the new guy.” She had wavy, brown hair, big hazel eyes, and straight, white teeth- a rarity in Wallen's Gap. She wore hip-huggers and a tight tee shirt that emphasized her curves. She cocked her hip and he caught a glimpse of flat, tanned abs and a pink thong.

“I know I am.” He wished he had come up with a smarter retort, but his reply must have tickled her funny bone. She giggled and touched his forearm with the tip of a heavily lacquered fingernail.

“You're cute. I'm Jazy.”

“Grant.” He racked his brain for a way to extricate himself from the conversation. The girl was smoking hot, and not just by Wallen's Gap standards, but he wanted to find the book, and maybe find Cassie.

“I been wanting to catch you since I saw you drive by in this sweet car a couple days ago,” Jazy said. “When I saw it just now, I finally plucked up the courage to stop and say hello. You can probably imagine how dull it gets around here, when you know everyone and there’s nothing new and exciting going on.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Are you okay?” Jazy took a step closer and looked up at him in genuine concern.

“Yeah, sorry, just got a lot on my mind.”

“I know.”

“You do?” How could she possibly know what was going on?

“I lost my daddy too, not so long ago.” Sadness dulled her eyes, but she forced a smile. “You just gotta give it time. Nothing else helps.”

Grant felt a lump forming in his throat. It wasn't out of sadness over the loss of his dad, but for this bit of simple kindness and concern. He'd experienced precious little of such normal human interactions since arriving in Wallen's Gap. He cleared his throat.

“Thanks.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Say, do you know Cassie Brunswick?”

“Why sure.” Jazy smiled. “Of course, everybody knows everybody around here, but me and Cassie are friends. She's sweet.”

“You wouldn't know where I could find her, would you?” If Jazy and Cassie were friends, maybe the girl knew something.

Jazy brought her fingers to her lips and stared at him, her eyes gleaming with sympathy. “Oh my God, I didn't even think. Of course it was you.”

“What was me?” A cold, heavy weight sagged inside of him.

“She called me late last night, all upset because she thinks she still loves Carl but she also likes some new fellow, and the pressure's getting to her. And apparently all kinds of other things are going on. She wouldn’t tell me who the other guy was, and I figured it was a local boy.” She made a face. “Anyhow, she said she was going to go stay with her cousin or some such, she just couldn’t handle staying in town until her head was straight. She was calling me for advice, and I told her sure, she should go and give herself time and space to think. Oh, don't look like that.” She put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him close. He was keenly aware of her breasts pressing against his chest. “I'm sure she won't be gone too long, and I don't think she'll pick that Carl.”

Grant stared over her head at the mountains, their peaks hidden by low-hanging rain clouds. So Cassie really had left on her own. It was hard to believe, but there it was in unrequested corroboration. First Suzanne, then Cassie. Whatever. If she actually found it difficult to choose between him and that Carl dipshit, he didn't need her in his life. He would never understand women. At least she was well away from the genetic traffic circle that was Wallen's Gap, and that was the main thing, right? With any luck she would stay away from her mean father and that idiot Carl.

“Come on. I know just the thing to cheer you up.” Jazy took him by the hand and led him down the street. He wondered what she had in mind as she took him down a side street. The asphalt gave way to a rutted dirt and gravel road, and weeds grew tall in the cracks in the sidewalk.

They arrived at a small diner, the name painted on the dirty window proclaiming it The Lyons' Den. As she pushed the door open, the sounds of music and cheerful conversation poured out. He raised an eyebrow at Jazy. This was about as unlike Wallen's Gap as you could get. She grinned and pushed him in ahead of her.

The diner was dim and filled with the aroma of greasy Southern cooking. The few patrons, every one of them African-American, only spared the new arrivals a passing glance before smiling or nodding at Jazy and returning to their conversations. John Lee Hooker belted out a mournful blues tune from an old-school jukebox in the corner. The atmosphere wrapped around Grant like a comfortable old blanket.

“You feel better already, don't you?” Jazy still held his hand, and he realized he didn't mind so much. “Welcome to the only place in Wallen's Gap where people actually mean it when they're nice to each other.”

She introduced him to Amos Lyons, the proprietor, an elderly man with hair as white as his skin was dark. His teeth and eyes were matching shades of very pale yellow, but his smile was friendly. He shook Grant's hand, warned him to “Watch out for Miss Jazy, she's trouble!” in a stage whisper, and handed them each a bottle of Mountain Dew.

“I'm not a big Mountain Dew guy,” he said as they sat down at a table near the jukebox.

“Take a drink.” Jazy smiled as he took a gulp and surprise registered on his face. “It's really Budweiser. I ain't twenty-one yet. Of course, he charges six dollars a bottle, but every once in a while it's worth it to sit back, listen to some music, and have a cold one. Don't you think?”

“Definitely. No offense, but this town is depressing as hell.” He took a long pull of beer, enjoying the flavor as the ice cold brew slaked his thirst.

“You don't have to tell me. God, I want to get out of here so bad, but I don't know how.” She shrugged and let her head hang.

“Hey, don't do that.” Grant put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. “You're the only ray of sunshine around here. Don't let this place beat you.”

“I'm not college material and I don't know anything else to do with myself. I thought about dancing, you know.” She pantomimed a pole dance with such a goofy look on her face that Grant had to laugh. “But that ain't me.”

“There's always a way. You just have to hang in there until you figure out what it is.” Grant's thoughts turned to Cassie. Was there a way out for her? Did she even want one, or was she going to come back and choose Carl? He kicked himself. Stupid. Cassie had made her choice, and a part of him was happy for her. She was smart enough to get away from everything, for a little while at least, even if that meant getting away from him too. So be it. He turned his attention back to Jazy.

By the time they'd downed a few beers, a half a rack of ribs, and the crunchiest, greasiest onion rings he'd ever eaten, he had managed to put Cassie out of his mind. Jazy wanted to know everything about him, his life, and the problems with his father. She laughed at all the right places and kept touching his arm in a familiar way. She adored the idea that he was a musician and made him promise to play for her soon. When her hand crept down to his lap, he knew it was time to leave. He left enough cash on the table to cover their check plus a generous tip, and followed her out the door, his eyes only drifting from her hips long enough to see two young men grin and give him the thumbs-up.

He smiled as he closed the door. Maybe things were finally looking up for him.