Swallow the Moon Read online

  Eric nodded.

  "That's not what this is about, son."

  "No?"

  "This place is about forgiveness, son, redemption for the likes of you and me."

  "What makes you so damned sure?" All Eric's resentment and confusion spilled out.

  "I'll hand it to you straight. You ever heard of Mia Lai?"

  Eric looked into the man's one good eye. He was the right age to have been there. He bore the scars of napalm on his hand. For the first time, Eric saw the black clothes, not quite a suit. A black priest?

  "I guess. There was a – an incident there."

  "Call it what it was – a massacre."

  "Okay." Eric respected the old man's honesty.

  "I was there." His voice softened with wonder. "I've been forgiven."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  "I'm sure." The old man's face lit up with a soft fond smile.

  Eric was struck dumb with envy.

  "Ask and you will be forgiven. It's that simple." The man patted him on the shoulder. "You think about that for a while." He got up, smiled at Eric. "I got some things I need to do." He walked to the door. "Stay as long as you like."

  "What am I supposed to do?"

  "Talk to Him, son." The man stepped outside. "He likes to hear strange voices."

  Eric stood up, walked towards the stain glass window and the simple altar in front of it. For the third time that morning, Eric went down on his knees. He knelt in a rainbow of light, scattered from the stain-glass Madonna. He bowed his head for a moment, listening to the chime of the bells over head.

  Peace filled him for a brief moment. Then he heard the rumble of a motorcycle engine and the moment was gone. All the confusion, the guilt and the shame rose up in him again.

  He didn't deserve to be here.

  He lifted his head; his eyes met those of the Madonna.

  "How can I ask Him for forgiveness when I can't forgive myself?"

  There was no answer for him.

  Defeated by his confusion, Eric left the church. He walked back down Bridge Street, unable to understand why it hurt so much to be alive.

  ~^~

  June nibbled her breakfast, feeling relaxed and happy. She hummed "Lights" in the shower, taking extra time with her favorite shampoo and shower gels. Then she staged her bedroom with fresh sheets and candles, just in case the intimacy of last night spilled over.

  Not wanting to be overtly seductive, June dressed casually, putting her hair up. She breezed through the house, straightening up – giddy and hopeful.

  Dancing in Eric's arms, last night had been – magic. She'd never felt that way with any man before. They'd laughed and danced like they'd known each other forever…a whisper of a breeze chilled her neck. She froze – the thought unfinished as the hair on her arms rose. Immediately she was reminded of Jake. He was trapped with Cora while she danced the night away with Eric.

  Cora – the one problem all three of them had in common. Surely there was some way to lay Cora to rest? Mulling the problem of Cora kept her from watching the clock.

  Why hadn't Eric called yet? What was he doing?

  ~^~

  Feeling hungry on top of his already sour mood, Eric crossed the street to Hulbert's restaurant. He could see through the glass it was full of families. He just wanted a sandwich and something to drink. He glanced up and down the street. The buildings were hundred-year-old brick structures, a few empty with peeling facades, the rest well-tended shops or bars.

  Living at the Iroquois, he hadn't tried out any of the other bars. Next to Hulbert's, a big front window had Zall's Grill written on it. The bar was nearly empty. That was more like it. A sandwich and a beer before he called June – then out to her place for the rest of the day.

  There were two guys at the bar and a redhead at the last stool. The bartender was quick to take Eric's order for a beer and a sandwich. Eric watched the bartender shoot pool with the girl as he ate. He heard the screen door slam as two guys walked into the bar. Something in him braced for trouble.

  "I saw Jake's bike with my own eyes," said a big beefy guy in a ball cap and a Brown's jacket. "Jake the Snake is back at the Iroquois."

  "I heard he got splattered on Dead Man's curve."

  The other guy was smaller, but burly. The sight of them put the hair on Eric's neck up. Street rats, he thought – low level dealers and thugs.

  "I'm telling you, his bike is here."

  "Did you see him?"

  "I saw his bike."

  How did they see his bike when she was parked in the bay next to Peggy Lee's Caddy?

  Scum of the lowest order, looking for something to steal. How dare they put their dirty hands on Cora?

  "That's my bike." Eric was fed up with being mistaken for the dead cop. Cora was his now. He turned around to confront the street rats.

  "Bastard." The big guy put a lot of hate into that one word. The two guys walked down the bar towards him. "My brother is in the pen because of you."

  Eric shoved his barstool back. All the crap he'd endured fed the fire of his temper. He balled his hands into fists, waiting for them to come to him.

  "You got a lot of balls coming back here." The smaller man was stiff-shouldered and narrow-eyed. "You won't have them long."

  "Fuck you," Eric snarled. "I didn't do jack shit to anybody."

  "Hey, take it outside!" the bartender yelled.

  "Snitches get stitches." The big guy taunted. "You'll have plenty." They didn't hesitate when they reached him. The small one threw the first punch. It was on, two against one.

  Eric had his rage and his hand-to-hand training to fall back on. It wasn't enough against two seasoned street fighters. They got in enough licks to put him on the defensive, dodging fists, fading deeper into the bar.

  "I called the cops!" the bartender shouted. "Break it up!"

  Eric dodged around the pool table; the men split up, one to each side. He was in deep shit, cornered by two men who threw punches as hard as bricks. With a quick movement of her cue stick, the redhead tripped the smaller guy. He hit the floor hard, rolling and cursing. She skipped around him to run for the door.

  The way out was through the big guy. Eric went toe-to-toe with him, taking as many hits as he landed. Every slap of his fist on flesh was satisfying. Each was an expression of his inward rage. So many months scared shitless all the time. So many disappointments when he got back. Rage made him feel bigger and more powerful as he pounded the street rat with his fists. They slammed into each other until the pain in Eric's soul was nothing compared to the pain in his flesh.

  The electric bite of a Taser brought him down.

  Eric fell at the feet of a police officer. He hardly felt it as a second officer zipped-tied his wrists together. The three of them were loaded into two squad cars, taken to jail and locked up.

  ~^~

  All afternoon June carried her cell phone. Her mother called wanting eggs, her cousin called to gossip, it seemed like half the world called. She got more and more distressed with every passing hour. Eric didn't call.

  As the sun shifted west – her distress turned to anger. This wasn't like Eric – or was it? What did she know about him? Besides the fact that he owned a haunted motorcycle – she knew only a little.

  Had Cora done something to Eric? June gritted her teeth – she was NOT going to call him. No way was she going to let him know that she'd spent all day cleaning house and setting a stage for him and her to…she snarled, throwing her cell phone onto the table.

  This was humiliating.

  It was time she put her mind to getting rid of Cora. June fired up her computer. She had access to some Wiccan sites where she posted some questions. Then she searched paranormal sites for information on ghosts and haunting. What she found disturbed her. She already knew that crystals could be charged, but she hadn't thought that metal was a form of crystal, too. Did Cora's spirit inhabit the motorcycle – the way the soul inhabited a body?

  As the hours ticked b
y, she went from angry to depressed. She abandoned her research, too down to care – let Cora have Eric. June had other things to do besides moon over him. Walking the dogs helped clear her head – eventually she went to the garage to work on her latest project: cooking spearmint tea into syrup, then into a hard candy. The first batch she spooned on to wax paper in small circles was a gooey mess, more like a gumdrop. She tried again with peppermint, getting something that tasted good and set hard like windowpane candy. Without a candy mold, she could only spoon it on to waxed paper in irregular drops.

  She spent the evening working on it, blocking out the depression that hung over her like a shadow. When she felt that slight stirring in her hair that meant her ghostly lover was back, she sent him away.

  ~^~

  Monday, June got ready for work in a foul mood. Everything seemed to fall into place this morning, which annoyed her even more. She was at her desk in plenty of time. Even her e-Bay account was doing well. She'd sold an ugly lamp for eighty dollars!

  During the morning break, Melissa was eager to share the latest gossip. She pulled June aside, away from the coffee pot where everyone else was gathered.

  "Did you hear about Tony Avon?" Melissa bit her lip to keep from blurting it out.

  "No, what happened?" June had a bad feeling.

  "I heard Tiffany tell Mr. Phillips that Tony is on medical leave. He went to the ER with a raging infection." She nearly wiggled with glee. "He was attacked by a dog."

  "A dog?" June broke out in a cold sweat. "Are you sure?"

  How many men got attacked by dogs in any given week; as many as ran motorcyclists off the road?

  "Oh, yeah." Melissa nodded. "The dog ought to get a medal."

  June tried to smile, but her mind raced over the threats, Tiffany's interest in the photo. Yes – even the heavy country accent of the men in the truck – all of it fit Tony Avon. The men who killed Jake were here at the plant and Tiffany was in on it.

  "Are you okay?"

  "No," June licked her lips over sudden nausea. "I think my milk was bad." She swallowed hard, then bolted for the bathroom. She just made it, before she barfed up her breakfast. June pleaded food poisoning and slunk home.

  She put in a call to Eric, leaving a message when he didn't answer his cell.

  "Please, Eric," her voice was thin and shaky. "Call me, I'm at the house."

  She paced the house trying to think of what to do. Should she hide Tasha? If she did, wouldn't she leave herself open for those men to attack her? June went upstairs to the closet, looking for ammunition for Uncle Ralph's gun. Once again, she came up empty-handed.

  She tried to be calm, but she was jumping at every little noise. Finally she locked every door in the house, including the one to her bedroom, with Tasha right beside her. It was time to think this through.

  As Tasha snoozed at her feet, June picked up her cell phone. Should she report the threatening call? She would have to tell the sheriff that Tasha had bitten a man. She stroked the short black coat of the elegant Doberman – there was no way she could turn Tasha in. As long as she had copies of the invoices, she had something to work with. She was going to tough it out.

  ~^~

  After a night spent tossing and turning, June was cross and jumpy. She couldn't afford to lose her job and couldn't face losing her dog. She would keep quiet, for now. But if she got the chance, she would throw them all under the bus in a heartbeat. She was caught between a rock and a hard place – it sucked. However, it was simple to stay busy. All she had to do was throw herself into her work – she was a day behind already.

  During lunch, June and Melissa sat with two other girls from Accounting. With Melissa chattering non-stop, June nearly missed hearing her cell phone ring. She pulled her cell from her purse. Who would call in the middle of the day? Was it her mother nagging about the eggs?

  "Hello?"

  "June? It's Eric." His voice was pitched low.

  "Where have you been?" She kept her voice down – hoping the others wouldn't pay any attention.

  "Look – I'm really sorry I didn't call. I'm – I'm in deep shit."

  "What's going on?" June fought to make her face blank. She didn't want to talk to him with an audience.

  "I'm sorry, really sorry."

  Melissa mouthed 'Is that him?' June rolled her eyes.

  "Where are you?"

  "City jail."

  "Oh, no."

  "The judge said I can leave here, but I have to stay in town until my next court date."

  "What happened?"

  "I – I got jumped at a bar on Bridge Street. I got in a fight, then I got busted. I hate to ask you but I'm flat broke. Please, can I get a ride back to the Harbor?"

  "Give me one reason why I should help you – again?" June rolled her eyes; the nerve of this guy.

  Melissa's face showed her shock, raised eyebrows and open mouth. June gritted her teeth, regretting every word she had ever said about Eric. The other girls nudged each other and giggled.

  "Please, let me explain in person? That's all I ask." Eric's voice was low pitched, coaxing.

  On one hand, her heart went out to him; on the other hand, she wanted to choke him.

  "Okay, I'll give you a ride to the Harbor. I get off work at five."

  "Thanks!" Eric breathed. "I'll make it up to you."

  "You better," June warned him. "I'll – I'll pick you up – uh – there. Bye."

  Trouble followed Eric like…a curse. Eric was cursed or his motorcycle was cursed – there wasn't much difference at this point. She had her own problems right now. She didn't need to…

  "June?" Melissa snapped her fingers under June's nose. "Earth to June?"

  "Sorry, what was that?"

  "Was that Mr. Hunky?"

  "Yeah." June sighed.

  "What's up with him?"

  There was a sparkle in Melissa's eyes that warned June that she was about to become a hot topic for the grapevine. She had better choose her words carefully.

  "The usual – 'sorry I didn't call' stuff."

  "They all do that," grumbled a woman from Accounting.

  "He fell into your lap, maybe it is fate." Melissa was still digging for juicy gossip.

  "I feel like I'm taking in a stray." June didn't want to think about fate – fate had betrayed her.

  "They're all strays." The women giggled, changing the subject from general gossip to man-bashing. Melissa got an earful of gossip old and new – but nothing from June.

  After a tense afternoon, June drove to the City Jail. She'd never been there before, so she had to call for directions. Inside, the concrete and steel pressed in on her. Even the air seemed thick and heavy. She repressed a shudder as they escorted her deep inside to a cold, bare room.

  "Hey, you came!" Eric gave her a smile. It was obvious that he'd been in a fight. He had a split lip, scabbed knuckles; his left eye was swollen and black.

  "Yeah, I'm here." June smiled back at him.

  "Good, now I can leave." He looked over at the officer. "Right?"

  "Don't leave town until your court date," the officer warned.

  As soon as they were out of the building, June's temper flared.

  "You owe me an explanation, remember?" June folded her arms across her chest.

  For a moment he looked down at his boots. June wondered if he was concocting a lie or getting ready to tell his life story. With a deep breath, he looked back at her.

  "I'm sorry I didn't call you. I had to call a friend who would make my bail."

  At least he didn't ask her to make his bail. That had 'loser' written all over it.

  There was a steady stream of people in and out of the jail building. There was no sense talking about this in the middle of the sidewalk where anyone could hear.

  "My car is over there." June turned back towards her car.

  "The guys who jumped me on Bridge Street thought I was Jake." Eric ran his fingers through his hair. "A couple of people have done that. I must look a lot like him.
"

  "It's the bike," she said without thinking. "You don't look that much alike."

  "How do you know?" Eric grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. "June?"

  She tried to brush him off as she felt her cheeks get hot. This wasn't any of his business; she didn't want to talk about it. He might feel sorry for her – which would be humiliating. Eric didn't let go of her arm. He waited for her to make eye contact, which made her angry.

  "Have you seen him?"

  "I told you, I can see spirits."

  "This keeps getting worse and worse."

  "It doesn't concern you."

  "The hell it doesn't."

  "Let's go." She tugged against his grip.

  "I need to know what he looks like."

  "He has long straight hair and a beard; you're taller, heavier." She switched tactics. "If you would sell the bike, you wouldn't have these problems."

  "That's not going to happen." He dropped his hold on her; it was his turn to look away. He started walking towards the car.

  "I knew you would say that." Well, wasn't that just like a man? Present him with a simple solution and he wouldn't take it. How deep did Cora have her hooks in him? June unlocked her car, they both got in.

  "Thank you for helping me." He rubbed his bruised hands. "I'm used to enemies that I can see. This is – too freaky for words."

  It was an opening that June decided to take.

  "Spirits are usually harmless, but Cora's a trouble maker." June toyed with her keys. "It's not natural for her to be hanging on like this. I don't understand what she's doing here." She frowned as she started her car.

  "Since I came back from Cincinnati, Cora's been whispering in my ear." Eric looked down and away. "The only time she's not is when I'm around you."

  June made a mental note of that tidbit. It might come in handy later.

  "It's not like that with Jake," June assured him. "He's not a threat to me. But he's got unfinished business of some sort."

  "Olson implied that Jake shot someone during the drug bust." Eric toyed with the band of his watch. "That might explain it."