Swallow the Moon Read online

  Another hail of bugs stung her face and hand. The snake jerked and tightened around her ribs and shoulder. Cora squirmed, unable to get a complete breath.

  "Damn it, let go." She was forced to slow down while seven feet of pissed off python wrapped itself around her shoulder then as more bugs smacked into them, around her neck.

  She couldn't breathe.

  She had to stop. She was forced to let go of the snake to use the clutch. The python circled her neck; now two loops shut off her air. Cora was losing it. She grabbed the snake's head with both hands, twisting, as the bike rolled down the edge of the freeway. If she could break its neck, she could get free.

  There was an impact, the bike bounced in and out of a pot hole. Cora tried to use her legs to keep upright. She tumbled to the ground. Her shoulder broke, her head hit the pavement, her hand went limp as the injured python kept squeezing.

  June opened her eyes with a gasp. Her throat was raw, her vision blurred. She could feel Cora's fury as she died, betrayed by a snake, just when she thought she had fame in her grasp – it was all taken from her.

  No wonder Cora was such an angry spirit!

  June slowly relaxed her body, then stretched. So now she knew her enemies' secrets. How could she use this to help Eric and herself?

  ~^~

  Once he had his morning coffee, Eric walked down to the beach where he ran a couple miles out and back. The cold morning air revived him. Then he went up the steps to the library where he fired up his net-book, his lifeline to reality in this surreal town. He checked his email; nothing from the lab yet, just the usual mix of jokes and spam. Good, he couldn't afford to miss his court date.

  A quick check of his bank balance brought him a plan of action. He could hang out for a while. It irked him that he couldn't get Cora restored. Van wanted too much money and God only knew what else.

  He mulled it over as he walked down the hill to 'Iris in Winter.' He wanted the fairy for June.

  Iris welcomed him warmly and talked him into sitting down for another cup of tea. She served it with some oatmeal cookies that were still warm.

  "So has your fortune changed?" she asked with a coy side-long glance.

  "Things are looking up."

  "You've made up with your girl?" She gestured to the statue.

  "Sure have." Eric grinned.

  "She gave you something."

  As Eric put his hand in his jacket pocket, Cora's voice in the back of his mind sneered.

  Are you falling for this crap?

  He closed his hand on the stone, felt her presence fade.

  "Can you tell me something about it?"

  "If you like." Iris set her cup down. "Can I see it?"

  Eric pulled out his hand; palm up, he opened his fingers. The silver sheen of the heart-shaped stone glimmered in the light.

  "Hold it just like that." Iris cupped her hands under his for a moment, then gave him a flirtatious smile. "It's red hematite, a protection against evil. This stone's power has been greatly enhanced."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It was exposed to very powerful male and female energy."

  "So?"

  "The male energy is yours. The female energy is hers. To get this much energy, you both had to be touching it." Her lashes flickered. "At a very intimate moment."

  You gonna spill your guts to this old bag?

  "I – we – that's just a guess, right?" Eric looked down at the stone, shaking his head.

  "Honey, talking about the weather won't do this," Iris chortled.

  Eric closed his hand over the stone. He recalled their first kiss. Were things less complicated then or had he just been unaware?

  "I don't believe in magic."

  "Does it matter what you call it?" Iris closed her small hands over his. Her touch soothed him. "Love is a beautiful thing. Don't let darkness take what rightly belongs to you."

  "I won't."

  "Good." Iris released his hands. She picked up her teacup and took a sip.

  Eric was tempted to talk to her about Van Man Go, but decided against it. He didn't believe that Iris had any useful knowledge. She was a sweet old woman playing gypsy, not the kind of person who would understand Van's major dysfunctions.

  "I've got to go." Eric paid her for the statue.

  "Watch your speed on that motorcycle," Iris chided. "You drive too fast!"

  "I'll be careful." Eric grinned as he picked up his purchase. When he closed the door behind him, he heard Iris chortle.

  ~^~

  June walked into her house feeling very alone. After dithering about it for days, she'd taken the dogs to her mother's house. The dogs adored her parents and their big mutt hound. For them it would be a treat. June felt like she was losing her best friends and protectors.

  Eric was on his way – June knew he would ask about the dogs right away. It was time to tell him about her problems at work and her suspicion that Tony Avon was in the SUV the night of the crash. She dreaded telling him. Once she said the words, she could not take them back. Telling him would be the same as telling Jake and Cora.

  Cora would find a way to use the information.

  When his Explorer pulled in, June met Eric outside. He was gorgeous, in leathers and jeans, with his hair styled instead of shaggy. His smile sent butterflies all through her. He gave her a quick hard squeeze of a hug then looked around.

  "Where are the dogs?"

  "I took them to my mother's."

  "Why? What happened?"

  She told him about her boss, the invoices and the chemicals. She spilled it in a rush as they walked into the house. They ended up in the living room, Eric leaning against the fireplace, watching her pace. June couldn't sit down – she kept talking, gesturing, hoping it would make sense. She could feel other ears listening, felt the energy in the room change as she talked.

  "Tony Avon from the shipping department is in the hospital with an infected dog bite."

  "No shit?" Eric straightened up. "You think Tasha bit him?"

  "How many dog attacks do you think happened in one night?" June's throat closed and her nose started to sting. "He knows where I live. He has to know it was my dog. He'll have Tasha killed, I know he will." She couldn't stop the tears that stung her eyes. "What are we going to do?"

  "If he gets arrested, he can't do you any harm." Eric put his arm around her shoulders. "We should report this to the sheriff."

  "Are you crazy?" June looked up at him. "No one believed us the first time."

  "Well, maybe he'll die from the infection."

  "That won't solve the problem. He was just a passenger."

  "What do you want to do?"

  "I don't know. Can you tell me what they are making?"

  "The simplest explanation is crystal meth. Crystal is easy to make and it's everywhere." As soon as the words left Eric's mouth, the tension in the room was so thick he looked around, his eyebrows drawn together. "If they can make a small batch in a soda bottle, I'd guess these guys are big business."

  The temperature in the room dropped, the lights dimmed. June moved closer to him.

  "Now what?" Eric's breath frosted. He pulled her against him.

  "It's Jake," June dropped her voice. "He's – upset." The light inside her rose; she welcomed it.

  Cold air swirled around them, like the inverse of a heat lamp, stirring the curtains and rattling the paper on the coffee table.

  "Yeah, he's got a right to be. Maybe it's the same meth ring that killed Jake." Eric surveyed the room with his mouth set in a grim line.

  Shadows filled the corners, eating the light, spreading along the walls.

  "You think?" June raised an eyebrow. She couldn't help being sarcastic – not with the cold deepening and darkness rising up to block her windows. The room was in near-darkness already, it would be total darkness soon.

  "The first time I went in the Iroquois, I looked into the back mirror – I thought I saw – um – something." He looked down at her. "It may have been the day
Jake died."

  A gust of air blew paper off the coffee table and lifted the drapes away from the windows. The pictures on the wall rattled, a low rumbling noise rose from the floors.

  "Cut that shit out!" Eric snapped. "I don't believe in ghosts, magic or shit out of scary movies. This is a job for the police, not goddamn ghost busters."

  The drapes flapped, the coffee table was swept clean – paper spun in the air, pens, cloth runner and books spilled to the floor. June was wrenched out of Eric's arms by unseen hands.

  "Jesus Christ!" Eric slammed against the wall.

  "This is my house! Stop that!" June shouted. She reached for the inner light – it rose in a flash – blasting away the shadows. Instantly the noise stopped; the air calmed; the freezing cold faded. The papers drifted to the floor. The drapes settled gently to the wall. June drew in a shuddering breath.

  "That was – interesting."

  "Holy frigging shit!" Eric's face was white as he leaned on the wall. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," June teased. "I didn't get tossed into a wall."

  "Ha, ha, funny." Eric rubbed the back of his head, then worked his neck and shoulders. "I've been shot. I can handle this. Give me a minute." He looked shaky and more than a little spooked.

  The tension in the room eased as nothing else occurred. Eric collapsed into the recliner. June picked the stuff off the floor as she waited for Eric to pull it together.

  "I met a cop who said he owed me. He meant Jake, but that may be a marker I can cash in. Where is your phone book?"

  "Are you going to pretend to be Jake?"

  "That's a good question." Eric paused for a moment, then shrugged. "No, I'm not – I've had enough of Jake for one day." He pulled out his cell phone. "I don't have a signal."

  "Use mine." June went to get her cell and the phone book. Eric followed her. The hair on the back of her neck tingled. She suspected that Jake and Cora were back in the house. She didn't care as long as they behaved. Eric put the phone on speaker so she could hear.

  "Olson here."

  "Eric Macmillan. We met at the Lakeview Diner." Eric took a deep breath. "You thought I was a DEA agent named Jake. But –"

  "Jake is dead." Olson's voice was flat.

  "Yes," Eric said. "But somebody else thinks I’m Jake. They're trying to kill me."

  "So who the hell are you?"

  "I'm just the guy who bought Jake's bike. You saw it. I came here to get it repainted. I got run off the road, like I told you, by a black SUV."

  A pause; they could hear background noises. Eric looked at June, shaking his head. Olson didn't appear to be interested.

  "The woman who helped me is in trouble. She's being threatened, maybe by the same people who killed Jake. Can you at least come out and talk to her? We don't know what else to do."

  "I'm off shift in a couple hours. Where does she live?"

  June gave Olson the address. Eric closed the phone. He shook his head.

  "What are we going to tell him? If we mention ghosts he's going to think we are nuts."

  "I don't know." June squeezed his hand. "No one has believed us, yet."

  Olson arrived in a late model GMC, wearing street clothes. June met him at the front door, introduced herself and Eric as she invited him in.

  "I'm Eric Macmillan." Eric extended his hand. Olson paused before he shook it.

  "You look a lot like Jake," Olson said.

  Eric shrugged.

  "So what is this about?"

  Eric looked at June. She cleared her throat.

  "Please, sit down." She motioned Olson to sit at the dining room table. He sat at the head with June to his right and Eric to his left. "I work at Blazer's Plastics, in the accounting department. I get all the invoices for items purchased by the plant. I've seen some odd shipments come in; chemicals, fertilizer, items that the plant doesn't normally use. Then there are items ordered by the case, more than we can use in a year, coming in every few weeks – lithium batteries, cleaning supplies and pharmaceuticals."

  "I'm a city cop," Olson said. "Blazer's is out in the county."

  "They're making crystal meth," Eric said in a flat voice. "It doesn't matter where they are; it's still against the law." Tension ratcheted up between the two men.

  "Miss Van Allen," Olson turned back to June. "I need more than hearsay to start an investigation. Blazer's is one of the few factories left in the county. Nobody wants to risk them closing down. There aren't enough jobs as it is."

  "I was out there. I heard them," June said. "When the SUV came back, I hid us in a ditch. Two men got out to make sure he was dead. My Doberman drove them off." She glanced at Eric, licking her lips. She had to tell Olson everything, she had to convince him.

  "My dog bit one of them." This could be Tasha's death warrant. "I go back to work, my boss's secretary was poking around the pictures on my desk, asking about my dog. Later I find out the guy who runs the dock is in the hospital with an infected dog bite.

  "Then I get a threatening phone call, telling me to turn my dog in." June looked into Olson's eyes. "I love my dog. I need my job. But I can't ignore the facts. This is all connected."

  Olson shook his head.

  "I read the accident report. There is nothing in there about an SUV. The report states that he was going too fast for the turn. It was a possible DWI – but by the time they did his blood test, he was under the legal limit."

  "I wasn't drunk and that's not how it happened." Eric leaned forward. "I'm a soldier – I just spent 2 years in Afghanistan. I'm not making this up. These guys weren't horsing around. They wanted to kill me. They would have killed us both."

  "Look, I understand you guys back from the war have a rough time of it." Olson rubbed his jaw. "I know guys who lost legs, guys with plates in their heads. You guys went through hell – everybody knows it." He shook his head. "I get it – I do. But that kind of shit doesn't happen around here."

  "I'm not a nutcase," Eric snapped.

  "No? You just got arrested for assault and battery. A judge is going to look at that. He'll think you're having trouble adjusting to civilian life." Olson raised his hands. "Look at this from my point of view. You are accusing a whole manufacturing plant of a crime just because a couple drunks got stupid. You might want to get the whole damn county in an uproar, but I sure as hell don't."

  "So I should just let these bastards threaten my girlfriend?"

  "I'm sorry." Olson held his hands palm up. "You don't have any proof."

  "What if I had copies of the invoices?" June asked. "What if I put them in your hands?" Both men looked expectantly at her.

  "Let me see them."

  June picked up her purse. She pulled out her makeup bag. No flash drive. She poured the contents onto the chair next to her. There was no sign of the flash drive. This felt like one of Cora's tricks. June looked around. Jake and Cora were suspiciously absent. She felt defeated – so this round went to Cora.

  "I must have misplaced it." She hated to give up – she would find the drive.

  "You don't have a case." Olson rose to his feet. He held out his hand to Eric, who reluctantly shook it.

  "I can't play John McClane, I've got a family to think about." He turned to June, holding out his hand. When she took it, he smiled at her. "If you get some evidence, I can help you."

  "Thank you for coming out." June swept her stuff back into her purse.

  Eric was fuming – she gave him a poke. There was no sense arguing with the man. He'd already made up his mind. Eric walked Olson to the door, then closed it behind him. June leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes.

  "He didn't believe us," Eric said bitterly.

  June sighed.

  When she went up to bed that night – the flash drive was on her dresser.

  "You bitch!" June slapped the dresser, making everything on it jump. Cora laughed – the sound echoed in the empty hallway.

  ~^~

  Chapter Twelve

  October 12th

  J
une carefully wrapped each basket in clear plastic and tucked them into a box. The larger baskets held tins of cooking herbs, bottles of herb flavored oils and vinegars. She had small baskets filled with teas and jelly jars of sugar-coated spearmint and peppermint drops. Last, the fancier gift baskets she'd filled with herbal soaps, lotions and lip balm.

  Aunt Lizzie's herb flavored oils had been a family favorite for years. Her teas graced the medicine chests of every family member. "A tea for whatever ails you," was the family mantra. June felt that she was taking Aunt Lizzie's herb lore to people who needed it. She loaded everything into the trunk of her car. This load was going to Iris on consignment.

  June drove her car to the Harbor, across the lift bridge and up Bridge Street. As a child, her parents had taken her to Hulbert's restaurant for brunch after church every Sunday. The restaurant was still there; she wondered if they still served the wonderful Sunday brunches.

  June parked her car in front of Iris' shop. She got the box out, set it on the bumper of her car. She looked over to the building next door. The sprawling structure was painted dark red with black trim. She was at the wrong angle to read the glass windows, but she didn't need to see the sign to know who owned the shop. The music coming from the body shop was loud and familiar. The bass run had haunted her dreams since she first saw Cora's video clip. Thanks to the clip, she knew the band – Iron Butterfly, an acid rock group from the 60's.

  Van Man Go's shop was open – the bay doors up. June peeked around the corner. Van was the connection to the motorcycle and all three owners. If only she could talk to him. June sighed; this was getting her nowhere. She turned back to Iris's shop.

  "Hello!" Iris was dusting off a shelf, dressed in jeans and a sweater. Iris was Aunt Lizzie's best friend, almost family. She was the one person who understood June's passion for herbs and nature.

  "I've got the herbals."

  Iris looked her over, her eyebrows raised.

  "What's his name?" she asked as she took the box from June.

  "What makes you say that?" June laughed.

  "You're glowing." Iris smiled as she set the box on the nearest table.