Fallen Giant Page 7

  “We can beat that?” Trish asked with a head toss toward the room that had showed her its secrets. The room that had changed her life. The doubt she tried so hard to beat back was fresh in her heart, in her mind.

  “We can beat anything.” He paused. “You can beat anything.”

  She looked up into his beautiful features, those glorious eyes that swirled with emotion. Right now she didn’t feel like a cop. She felt like a frail human being. Levi was trying to build her up. She knew that. His voice vibrated with truth and strength. What he was doing was working.

  “Are we having a moment on the floor of a public bathroom?” she asked him, her lips quirking slightly in a smile.

  Levi stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Yeah, I think we are.”

  All at once, Trish felt embarrassed and wrenched her head away. She hurriedly got to her feet, self conscious about her outburst, her no doubt bad breath, and her unprofessional actions. She smoothed a hand down her slacks and faced him, her cheeks flaming. The tears she’d cried were still hot on her face, but she didn’t wipe them away.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

  Slowly, Levi hefted himself to his feet, uncurling that long body from the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and faced her. “No apologies necessary.”

  She cleared her throat. “No?”

  He shook his head, that long hair falling back into his eyes, dancing with his lashes. “No,” he confirmed. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

  Trish refused to acknowledge the flutter in her stomach as he reached for her again. Instead she gathered her things and unlocked the door. “Yeah,” she murmured, then led the way out of the bathroom.

  One day she’d apologize for breaking down on him.

  Just not today.

  *****

  Sam whistled through his front teeth after Orrie finished his story. Running through the woods in a park as a dog was nothing new for Orrie. Running through the woods in a park as a dog being chased by bugs that didn’t exist naturally in nature? Yeah, that was new. New and not good.

  “So you’ve never seen these things before?” Sam asked.

  Orrie shook his head. “Never.” He leaned over and reached into the pocket of the jacket he’d shed. He pulled out a small vial and placed it on the table between himself and Sam.

  Sam blinked. The vial contained an ugly bug. Winged and vicious, a stinger hanging an inch out of its ass. The thing was black, beady-eyed, and staring at him.

  He picked the vial up and the bug went crazy. The wings buzzed and the eyes rolled. A high pitched keening plumed from the vial. “How long’s this thing been in here?” He asked, shaking the vial experimentally.

  “Four days.”

  Sam paused, his hand stopped shaking. “It getting any air?”

  Orrie leaned back in his chair and folded his thick arms. “Nope.”

  Sam looked back to the bug. Not quite a bee or a hornet, not quite a beetle, but still an insect and still ugly. He shook the vial again and the bug started to sting the glass, tiny sparks of black and red arcing in the vacuum. “How’s it still alive?”

  Orrie shrugged. “I suggest we find someone to check it out.”

  “Oh, you suggest?” Sam demanded. He eyed Orrie across the table. “You suggesting things now?”

  “Maybe.”

  Sam beat back the rage rising inside of him. “And who the fuck is supposed to look at this? And never say anything to anybody?” he growled.

  “We’re not above bribery,” Orrie reminded him. “For the good of the human race.”

  Sam sent the vial spinning across the table toward his friend. Orrie captured it before it could hit the floor. “What’s your gut instinct on that?” He pointed to the glass Orrie now held.

  Orrie lifted the vial to eye level and gazed at the creature inside. The thing kept stinging, kept hissing, even after Orrie flicked the glass with his finger. “My gut? Olivier.” He glanced over at Sam. “I think Olivier has something to do with this.”

  Sam bared his teeth and grumbled his irritation. For so many years Semi had stayed away, but now, he was back with a sidekick. Who knew where they’d been in the world? Who knew how many of these hybrid creatures were festering in the earth or in the trees or killing off other species? Olivier was strong. Always had been. The devil had clearly imparted more skill and more strength into the fallen angel.

  “Find a scientist,” Sam muttered. “Find out what that thing is,” he ordered, pointing at the glass. “And get it the fuck out of my house right now.”

  Chapter Ten

  The ride back to Magnolia was quiet. Trish read through her case again, managed to get into her email and find a preliminary report from the coroner. She read most of it aloud to Levi until he finally asked her to stop. He didn’t want to think about that poor boy going through what he went through. Not right now. Not after seeing the toll it had taken on Trish.

  Her instincts were good. She was a fantastic detective. Thorough and smart, following the evidence where it led, not getting ahead of it and jumping to conclusions. But Levi could tell she was close to burning out. After what she’d dealt with in Atlanta, he knew she wanted to prove herself. This wasn’t the case for that. He struggled with asking her to contact the FBI, maybe turn this over, but he knew she’d say no so he kept quiet.

  Closer to town, her phone began to ring. He desperately wanted her to let it go to voice mail. After seeing her fall apart the way she had, he wanted to protect her. She’d pulled her own invisible armor on, though, and with all the confidence in the world, she answered the phone.

  “Detective Redding.”

  Levi couldn’t hear the words coming through the cell phone, but he did discern that the voice belonged to a female. A high pitched voice screeching into Trish’s ear. Trish held the phone away a bit and tried to interject. She was cut off several times, but finally got a word in.

  “Are they both there?”

  More chattering.

  “All right. I’m on my way back to town right now. We’ll stop at your place and check it out. Is that okay?” When the high pitched screech fell to a dull squeak, Trish sighed. “Sure. We’ll be there soon.”

  He watched her hang up out of the corner of his eye. “Problem?”

  “You don’t mind if we stop out at The Rube, do you?” she asked, rubbing her forehead. “We’ve got a couple cousins who manage to get drunk and start fights with each other about every day. They’re fighting now. One wants to get the other arrested.”

  “You think you can stop the argument?” Levi asked.

  “No. Rusty and Mel have been fighting since they were in short pants. Now that they’re old enough to drink all day, the fighting gets worse. One always accuses the other of stealing the only woman he ever loved. Because they both loved the same woman.”

  Levi grinned. Small towns. “Which one got her?”

  “Neither. She was smart and left town.”

  Levi laughed. “Still a bone of contention, though, huh?”

  “I suppose. What else do you do when you live in a small town?”

  “You fuck.”

  Trish sliced her eyes to him. “You do?”

  Did her voice just drop an octave? Were her eyes twinkling in interest? Levi bit his lip thinking about Trish in a hot and heavy situation. “Sure you do,” he said softly. “You fuck hard. You fuck often. You fuck until you’re hot and sweaty.”

  She still stared at him. But now her eyes were heavy lidded and her lips parted. “And if there isn’t anyone to fuck?”

  “Well then, darlin’, you got two hands, don’t you?”

  *****

  Levi had been in places like The Rube before, but none as seedy as this. The Rube was a place that the people of a dying town went to relive old glory. They played pool and fought over the outcome, they played darts and fought over the outcome, they played each other and fought over the outcome.

  Which was what Mel and Rusty were doing right no
w.

  Trish walked in first, and Levi let the crushing odor of despair and misery drift over him. Not many would say those things had a scent, but Levi had been in hell. He’d seen those emotions first hand and he knew their stench.

  A country music song blared from a juke box along the far left wall. A shiny bar took up the entire right hand side of the bar. Ripped leather seats on old wooden bar stools sat haphazardly in front of the bar, some occupied by those who’d come here to this place to while away another night of their existence. Free standing tables with broken down chairs littered the room. Most were unused, but toward the back was a gaggle of what Levi could only describe as regulars.

  Trish paused just on the inside of the door and Levi drew even with her. “Which two hillbillies are we looking for?”

  Trish nodded with her chin to the furthest table to the left. “The two idiots over there. At least they aren’t hitting each other yet.” She looked over to the bartender and gave a small wave. The woman, who appeared to have only put heavy makeup on one side of her face, nodded to Trish.

  “What is the deal with that?” Levi asked. Seriously, this town was fucked in the head.

  “That’s Ada. She insists she has multiple personalities and only her personality likes makeup. So she made a deal with…” Trish trailed off. “Look, we’ll get to the town’s foibles later. Let’s go nip this fight between Mel and Rusty in the bud.”

  Levi lifted in hands in a show of surrender, secretly pleased that Trish had included him. “Lead the way.”

  Levi followed the gentle swish of Trish’s hips as she made her way to the back. Other patrons turned to look at them, but made no move to stop them. Levi felt the lingering stares of some of those rubes on his back.

  “Rusty. Mel.” Trish stopped at the table.

  Levi took a long hard look at the cousins. They had the same build, but didn’t look anything alike. Both were in their late twenties, both were built like oxen, and both had the glazed look of drink in their eyes. Beyond that, one of them was blond, the other dark haired, and at some point, both had broken their noses. Probably broken by the other judging from the anger that seethed from them.

  Neither cousin answered, but they both swung their big, dumb, heavy heads toward Trish. The blond one’s eyes lit up at the sight of Trish, but then moved myopically to Levi and he drew his brows down.

  “How are you boys doing tonight?”

  Trish couldn’t have been more than three or four years older than these two, but they both dropped their heads at her commanding tone.

  Levi’s cock twitched.

  Fuck, he thought. Never been into bossy women, but coming from Trish, that shit was hot.

  “Just drinking,” the blond one said.

  “And arguing?” Trish asked.

  The cousins exchanged looks. Finally the dark haired one nodded.

  “You know what drinking and arguing does to you both,” Trish said with a head shake. “You get ornery, then loud, then one takes a swipe at the other and I’ve got to haul you both down to the drunk tank.”

  The blond one bit back a smile.

  Levi bristled. Fucker.

  “So which one of you needs a ride home and which one needs a ride out to Ma Greeley’s for a room tonight?”

  Shit, these fuckers lived together? Levi tried not to shake his head.

  “Who’s this?” the dark haired one slurred, his gaze now pinned directly on Levi.

  “This is Levi,” Trish said, unperturbed. “He’s my friend.”

  “Your friend?” the blond one asked, eyeballing her, then Levi.

  Now the other patrons were turning and looking. The country song ended and a classic rock song began, shaking the sticks of furniture.

  “Yeah, my friend. So who wants a ride home?”

  The cousins glared at Levi, the song thumping in the room. No, he took that back: everyone glared at Levi. He glared back. These hicks didn’t scare him.

  Trish snapped her fingers in the cousins’ faces. “Hey, brainiacs! Ada doesn’t want you busting up the bar. If you’re going to fight, you’re going to have to do it at home, but I’m not filing another report for either one of you. Pay attention!”

  The blond cousin shoved to his feet, his chair flying out from behind him. “I don’t like the look of this jackass.”

  Levi tried to keep his mouth shut. Tried. “Jackass?” he asked. “Are you referring to me?”

  Trish turned her back on the cousins, one hand coming up to splay across his chest. “Levi, don’t,” she said under her breath. “They’re drunk.”

  Levi glared at the cousins, especially the one standing. He might be a big guy, but Levi was bigger. A fuck of a lot bigger. “Then they aren’t going to get in my truck,” he muttered back. “I don’t want them to puke in my ride.”

  “No, I’ll call a deputy,” Trish agreed. She glanced back to see the blond cousin still standing. “They’re spoiling for a fight. Don’t give them one.”

  Levi let go of the deep breath he was holding. Trish’s fingers felt good against his chest. Right. Even after she removed them and turned back around, he felt their heat spiking through his shirt. Damn, this woman felt good.

  “Come on, boys, I’ll call a deputy to take you home—”

  The dark haired cousin, still sitting, smashed a beer bottle against the edge of the table. He got to his feet, shoulder to shoulder with his cousin. “Who the fuck is this, Trish?”

  Levi saw Trish’s back stiffen. He knew her eyes were moving over the cousins, the dark haired one’s weapon, and all the interested gazes on them.

  “We don’t have to argue,” Trish said in a placating tone. “We’ll just get you boys home—”

  “We ain’t boys,” the blond one sneered.

  Levi watched as he reached back into his pocket. Fuck, this was going bad fast.

  “Well, what do you want me to call you when you act like this?” Trish demanded, her hands now on her hips. “Because right now you look like naughty little boys.”

  The patrons behind the cousins chuckled.

  “Shut the fuck up,” the blond one spat, his head half turned. The laughter choked and died, then he turned back to Trish. “We don’t have to listen to you. Mayor said so. Said you was on your way out and you didn’t have any right to tell us what to do.”

  “Well, the mayor’s wrong,” Trish said, through what Levi could tell were clenched teeth.

  “You don’t get to tell us that the mayor’s wrong,” the dark haired one slurred. He waved his broken beer bottle at Trish.

  “Ada!” Trish called. “Call the deputies and get them out here. One for each of these sorry sons of bitches.”

  The blond cousin growled and tried to swipe at Trish across the table. Levi pulled her back just in time, which caused the heavy left fist of the blond cousin to go careening into the jaw of the dark haired cousin.

  Trish stumbled backward into Levi as the dark haired cousin jerked to his left and tried to bury the broken bottle into his cousin’s neck. The two tumbled back into the table behind them, sending a flurry of customers and beer to the ground.

  “Motherfuckers,” Trish swore. She righted herself and shook off Levi’s hands. She shot him a dirty look. “I had that under control.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He didn’t want to let her go, but she was strong and she jerked away from him. Straight into the volley of fists the cousins were now throwing. Trish went to grab one of the cousins, then glared back at him.

  “Get the other one!”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. He couldn’t tell who was who at this point, just that punches were being thrown and landing, and he didn’t want Trish or any of the other patrons to get hurt, even if they were hicks. Most had jumped out of the way, but a couple was trapped against the wall, the two cousins rolling around on the floor in beer and dirt, effectively cutting off their escape.

  Levi grabbed a flailing arm and tugged. A garbled scream emanated from the flo
or and then a sickening pop.

  “Shit,” he swore, realizing he’d probably pulled the guy’s shoulder out of its socket.

  Next he grabbed the back of one of the cousin’s jacket, this time succeeding in pulling the fucker off his kin. Levi tugged and the blond haired cousin separated a little further from his rival.

  “Enough!” Levi shouted. He sunk his left hand into the material of the jacket and his other hand found the waistband of the man’s jeans. Using this hold, he pulled the blond off his cousin.

  The dark haired cousin staggered to his feet when Levi got far enough away. Trish grabbed his arm to keep him steady. Both men had blood meandering down their faces.

  “Which one is this?” Levi asked, shaking the man in his grasp.

  “That’s Mel.” One of the other patrons piped up.

  “Man, that’s your fucking cousin!” Levi said. “Goddamn!”

  “Cousin,” Mel scoffed. “Fucking stole my woman.”

  “She was mine!” Rusty retorted.

  “Fuck if she was yours. Who popped her cherry?”

  “I did!”

  “You motherfucking dick for brains!” Mel shouted. “She scammed you!”

  “Scammed you both, shithead,” Levi said with another shake. “She isn’t even here!”

  Rusty tried to take a step forward, but swayed. Trish hooked an arm under him with a concerned look on her face. “Ada, how far out are the deputies?”

  “Few minutes,” the woman behind the bar called.

  The rock song faded and left the bar in uncharacteristic silence. Rusty leaned more heavily on Trish, one arm resting over his gut. If Levi guessed right, Mel had a mean swing and Rusty was going to have a few bruises.

  “Fuck if I’m going to the drunk tank over you,” Mel spat.

  “Mel, that’s enough,” Trish said tiredly. “Let’s wait outside.”

  “Shit ain’t ever been right since he fucked my woman,” Rusty retorted.

  “She wasn’t yours!”

  “Sure as shit wasn’t yours!”