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“Mind your own business. Either help me or hang up the phone.”
“I can’t tell you where it’s at. It’s hard to find. I’ll have to show you.”
“Meet me at the place in an hour. You know where I mean. Make sure you ditch your phone in case they can track it.”
Jace hung up the phone without another word—David would be there.
After Jace thoroughly chewed out the valet for slamming on the brakes too hard when he pulled the Chevelle up to the hotel doorway, but then tipped him far too generously because even he knew he was an uptight prick about his car, they drove toward the edge of the city. He ordered Francesca to check the rearview mirror every couple of minutes to ensure they weren’t being followed. He’d checked his ride religiously for tracking devices, and while nothing electronic had been attached, there was no arguing with the fact that a Chevelle stood out.
“I don’t see anything,” Francesca said. He could tell from her quiet demeanor that her nerves were as on-edge as his. The last thing they needed was to be tracked down by his fellow hunters again.
When they reached Honeoye Falls, Jace took the back way to the Lucky Bastard. The bar was usually dead this early on a Tuesday night, and tonight was no different. With the tiny lot nearly empty, he parked the car and surveyed their surroundings. David’s restored 1947 Harley FLH, one of his many motorcycles, was parked at the side of the lot. Two nondescript cars, which Jace recognized as the bartenders’, were parked across the blacktop.
Francesca stared at the sticker on the bar’s front door, which read:Welcome to Honeoye Falls.And scribbled beneath it in thick marker:Three bars, one graveyard and four hookers.
She let out a small laugh and walked inside.
Jace shook his head. Four hookers who tried to hit him up for free on a regular basis, the three bars where his dad had drank himself into the ground, and the one graveyard where his mother was buried. Yeah, welcome to Honeoye Falls all right.
With one last look over his shoulder, Jace strolled inside.
The dark cherry wood of the bar shimmered in the dim lighting. Francesca stood next to an old jukebox that only played well-known Garth Brooks and Johnny Cash songs, flipping through the selections with a blank look on her face. David sat at the bar sipping a craft beer as he watched Francesca with a wary eye.
Jace sat down at the bar next to David and watched as the bartender cleaned a tall beer mug a few feet away.
“Hey, John. You want the usual?”
It took Jace a moment to respond to the bartender’s question. He spent a lot of time here, even now that he’d moved deeper into the city, but only the owner, Jimmy, knew his real name.
“Yeah, slip me a couple bottles of Bushmills, will you? I need to restock.” He actually didn’t, but he knew they needed that kind of business in this place.
“Coming right up.”
He watched the bartender walk away before he turned to David. “So where were these bodies at? I need to map where the attacks took place and check out the scene. There has to be some sort of pattern to what this psycho is doing, and if there isn’t, there’s a reason it’s random.”
“I can’t concern myself with this for too long, J.” David sipped his beer, then set his glass on the bar top, staring blankly at the liquor shelf. “I’ve got a baby downtown who’s been possessed by that demon that’s been giving me shit, and she doesn’t have much more time. If I don’t rip that thing out of her soon, she’ll be dead, and the demon will move on to its next host.” David turned toward him. “Have you ever seen a possessed baby? It’s horrifying. I can’t have baby blood on my hands.”
“I promise I won’t keep you too long, David. Just show us the spot and then you can go save some babies.”
“They’re notallbabies. Just theone.”
Francesca walked up to the bar. “As much as I’d love to stay here and listen to Johnny Cash all day, if you guys are done making small talk, I think we have more important business to attend to.”
David set down his glass. “It’s not that simple.”
“What do you mean, ‘It’s not that simple’?” Francesca crossed her arms over her chest.
“The bodies were found in Manhattan Square Park on top of that big metal piece of shit. You know, that little structure thing.”
“Okay, yeah, I know what you’re talking about, but I thought you said it was somewhere hard to find,” Jace said.
“I didn’t want to say much over the phone. You know how good Headquarters is with anything electronic. They could’ve hacked into the line. I’ve got a new disposable cell now. I can’t give you the number, but I can call you and then throw out the phone, if needed.” He stared at his drink for a moment. “The site is easy to find, but thereissomething I want you to see there, and I’ll need to show it to you.”
The bartender returned and pushed three bottles of Bushmills toward Jace, who slapped some large bills on the counter in return. He turned back to David. “Fine, I needed to restock my liquor, anyway. Finish your drink and then meet us there.”
Cold,dreary anddownright sketchy, Manhattan Square Park was the last place Frankie wanted to spend her night. Not that she currently had many other options. She walked next to Jace along the park’s dim pathways. Even though her naturally high body heat warmed her, she wrapped her arms around her chest and pulled her jacket closer. How many times had her parents told her to stay away from here at night when she was a teen? The thought of being mugged gave her the heebie-jeebies, even though she could easily hold her own in a fight.
She scanned the surrounding darkness, thankful for her heightened night vision. Nothing, as far as she could see. They continued on for several more minutes. Just as her shoulders started to relax, Jace reached for his gun. She heard it, too. Footsteps. He pulled his weapon as David stepped into the dim glow of the moonlight. They’d taken different routes from the bar.
