Harold spotted the rattlesnake bite on Daddy’s cheek as he drew nearer, but he wasn’t sure that the bite had killed Eden’s father. Someone had bound the old satanist to the altar with barbed wire. You didn’t bind a dead man.
Someone had bound Daddy, and then that someone had sliced Daddy Deke’s throat from ear to ear.
Harold could see that now. A fly crawled into the open wound. A moment later the same fly buzzed out of the corpse’s mouth, its black body wet with blood.
Harold retched, dropping to one knee. Coffee and bile burned his throat and he tried to choke it back but couldn’t. . his mouth opened and he vomited a hot black stream.
His pulse pounded beneath the SS tattoo on his neck. Sweat bathed his brow and burned his eyes. It was too damn hot, and the taste in his mouth was awful, and whoever had killed Mama and Daddy Lynch probably had taken Eden, and who the hell knew what the sick fuck had done to her.
Or would do. .
But where would the killer take her?
Mama was outside, lashed to a yucca tree. Daddy was in the chapel, bound to the altar. And Eden. .
Harold stared at the back wall of the chapel-the old mine shaft that cut a black hole in white Mojave soil.
No, he thought. . No way I’m going in there. . That’s it. That’s all.
Harold crouched on the floor. No woman was worth this. He should have never come back. He should have kept on driving east. Hell, even Salt Lake City was better than this shit.
He’d get the hell out of here. That’s what he’d do. He’d drive east.
Harold stood and wiped his face. He stepped toward the open door.
Outside. A sound.
Tires whispering across Mojave soil.
Harold retreated into the darkness, clutching his.357.
Someone was here.
Tura screamed like a demon when she saw her mother’s corpse cinched to the yucca tree.
Harold watched Eden’s sister through a crack in the wall. Man, she’d flipped. The crazy redhead was pacing back and forth in front of the twisted yucca, that Steyr AUG gripped tightly in her hands. .
Tura aimed it heavenward and let loose with a long burst of gunfire. “Come out, you bastards! I’m here! I’m waiting!”
Harold watched her. Jesus. He couldn’t believe it. No way was he going out there. Not with Tura acting like this. She would probably think he fucking killed her mama. .
And wait until she saw Daddy. Jesus H. -
“Hi, honey.”
Harold nearly shit himself. “Eden! You’re still alive!”
She stood at the mouth of the mine shaft, wearing black leather, lace-covered wrist braces, and her carrion beetle sunglasses.
“What happened?” Harold asked. “Where have you been?”
Eden set a glowing kerosene lantern on the altar next to Daddy’s head. “Daddy told me that I should take a walk. I did. I’ve been down in the mine. Just walking, like Daddy said. You know, he was right about the mine shaft. It leads straight to hell.”
“What?” Harold glanced through the crack in the wall. Tura fired another burst and screamed. “Look, Eden, you need to get a grip on things. Your daddy’s dead, honey. And we have to-”
“I saw it,” Eden said. “I saw the River Styx. I bathed in its black waters. And I saw the dog.” She laughed, short and hard. “I don’t mean the Chihuahua. I mean the one with three heads-”
Jesus. She was gone. Gone. Harold glanced through the crack in the wall. Tura was headed this way.
“Honey.” Eden held out a hand. “Come take a walk with me.”
“Eden, we don’t have time for this-”
“Sure we do.”
She plunged the rusty knife into Harold’s back again and again.
Harold dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Eden stepped to the wall and peered through a knothole. Tura was coming, reloading the Steyr AUG as she walked.
Eden picked up Harold’s.357 Magnum.
“No rest for the wicked,” she said.
Eden jammed the pliers into her pocket. Tura was cinched up tight, lashed to the yucca right next to Mama. But that was only right. Tura was always Mama’s favorite.
Eden sat down in the dirt. It was real hot today. She would have to put on more sunblock. Especially if Lorelei showed up. Tying a grown woman to a yucca tree with barbed wire was tough work, and the noonday sun was not at all forgiving.
Still, she hoped Lorelei would come. She wouldn’t mind the extra work. Not really.
She felt strong. Really strong. For the first time in her life.
Eden sat in the spiked shade of a yucca. She squinted over her sunglasses. The sky was so very blue today. Not one cloud, only a few jet trails left by airliners headed for the bright lights of Las Vegas.
Hot, clear, and blue. She didn’t much like it, so she pushed the sunglasses high on her nose. That was better. Everything was dark, dark green. Almost black.
Eden imagined that she wasn’t in the desert at all. She was on the ocean floor. Dark sand stretching forever, green-black waves driving the tides. .
It was so quiet. Eden could hear herself breathe. It seemed that all her life she’d been waiting to hear just that sound.
Mama didn’t say a word. Tura kept her mouth shut. Daddy didn’t preach. Harold didn’t yell. It was really, really nice.
For once, everyone was doing just what Eden wanted, not the other way around.
Still, she couldn’t sit out here forever. Boy, was it hot. A shower would feel real good. Cold, cold water, that nice oatmeal soap. Maybe Tura had stowed another bottle of that fancy coconut shampoo somewhere. Eden could surely use it. She’d worked up a real healthy sweat, and her hair had gone all limp.
Yes. She’d have a nice long shower. Then a glass of milk and a few Fig Newtons, and a nice long afternoon nap.
Eden rose and jammed Harold’s.357 under her belt. She looped the remaining barbed wire like a cowboy’s lariat.
Time for that shower.
Time to wash off Harold’s blood.
SEVEN
As far as Tony Katt was concerned, the new refrigerator made one hell of a girlfriend. All you had to do was press a little lever in the door, and voila, ice cubes cascaded into your glass from above.
The fridge didn’t ever run out of ice, either. Tony should know. He’d been drinking kamikazes since dinnertime, and it was almost midnight now, and the fridge hadn’t let him down once. Hell, it looked like he’d run out of vodka and lime juice before he ran out of ice.
Tony downed his drink and fixed another. He couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong. Harold should have phoned hours ago. The ransom drop was scheduled to take place no later than five o’clock. Harold was supposed to call when he had Angel and the dog, at which point Tony would rendezvous with the gang at the Radiation Ranch.
If the drop had gone down the way it was supposed to, Harold was now sitting plush with half a million bucks. That was enough filthy lucre to change a guy, sure. But Tony didn’t think a double cross was likely in Harold’s case. Tony and Harold were blood brothers. Aryan Brotherhood brothers from Corcoran State. Harold wouldn’t cash out on him like some jailhouse snitch.
So it had to be that something had gone wrong with the drop. What that something was, Tony couldn’t imagine. It didn’t make a bit of difference, anyway. Something had fucked up, and that was for sure, and all it meant was that Angel Gemignani and her poocherino were somewhere besides the place they were supposed to be right now-in the fucking palm of Tony Katt’s hand.
Man, the baddest tag team in the history of the Shoe had planned it good, too. Harold coming out of the deal with five hundred bills large, and Tony getting the rich bitch and her little Chihuahua.