Page 85 of Brimstone Hollow

“Do you?” she says, with a cocked eyebrow. “No, I always thought Ezra King was bad news. You learn a lot about death in this job and you learn what kind of person gets a charge from brushing up against it. I can’t tell you how many thrill seekers Roman’s had downstairs on the slab. I don’t think Ezra was any different from any of the rest. He just—”

A phone rings in the shop behind her.

“I’ll let him know you came by,” she says quickly. I watch as she turns and disappears into the shop, beyond the windows crowded with lilies and roses.

Back at the motel, I let myself into my room, pull on my running clothes, and head back out the door. Mile after mile, my feet thump the cracked Mount Zion sidewalks. In and out of the beams of old streetlights, I go through the case in my head, trying to put everything into order.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

In all my attempts to connect Ezra King to Joel Shepherd—with DeanGriffon, Billy Shepherd, and Nathaniel Nickels between them—I never thought it possible that Ezra’s body would bemissing.

And he’s supposed to make his miraculous return in a matter of hours, on a mountaintop?

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Like Jesus, I think, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

I think back to that tent revival, the way the preacher had pushed me over, the way I’d been so desperate for food and security and comfort. I’d needed guidance, assurance. How disappointed I’d been. How afraid.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

The miles pour out behind me.

I need to understand him, Katie had said.So I can understand myself.

I think about the hand she’d seen, writing on the wall.

The king has been judged. His kingdom is no more.

And I think about the Bible story Will had relayed to me. The story of Daniel, brought amongst the most powerful men in the kingdom, translating the message on the wall. Telling the truth despite what it might cost him.

And I think about Crystal’s vision. Her prophecy, her message for the people of Mount Zion. The way goose bumps crawled up her arms and tears fell down her cheeks as she told me about Ezra King appearing to her with the revelation that he would return.

And what, exactly, had she actually seen? A dream? A hallucination?

He told me that I needed to carry a message to the church. Brother Ezra will return and minister to his flock at dawn.

I push harder, pumping my legs, swinging my arms. Taking the last stretch at a sprint. Giving it everything. Wearing myself out.

Thump thump thumpthumpthump!

In the hot air, my breath scrapes its way out of my lungs, and before I know it I find myself back at the motel. I take a long shower and go through my case notes again. I write up everything that’s happened so far, everything I know about the case.

Katie’s hunch had been right, I think. What I’d told Dishman was true.We can’t know for sure what Ezra King had been wrapped up in until we find his body. Or Nathaniel Nickels. Or both. But, either way, Ezra Kingmusthave been wrapped up in something. Something bad enough that it led to Dean Griffon filing down my brake line and Nathaniel Nickels killing Dean Griffon and, finally, the theft of Ezra King’s body. And, almost certainly related somehow, Billy Shepherd was beaten and burned nearly to death while his finger went missing.

Sometime around two o’clock, with these thoughts still spinning in my head like a carousel, I drift off sitting up on the bed, my notebook still in my lap.

“Annie-Girl,” a voice says. “Annie-Girl, wake up.”

I open my eyes.

In the predawn gloam, with the curtains mostly closed, I can only barely see his outline. Tall and skinny with raven-sheen hair and a black suit, his pale skin is bright in contrast.

Ezra King is standing at the edge of my bed.

TWENTY-FOUR

“ANNIE-GIRL…”