Marker of Faith

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 22

"My Granny was a curandera." Roddy's voice was barely audible over the car's engine.

"A what?" John asked. He flicked him a sidelong glance and then focused back on the road. Traffic was surprisingly light despite the hour, so it would be a quick trip back to the station.

"A curandera...a bruja?" Roddy raised his eyebrow at John. "Don't you speak any Spanish at all? She was like a witch, more of a healer actually."

"Hmmm."

"Is that it? Hmmmm?"

"What should I say?" John asked him. "Hmmm, sums it up for me. Nothing surprises me much lately."

"I just thought you should know," Roddy said while nervously fiddling with his seat belt. He stared out the window and then said softly, "I know what you meant back at the motel."

John couldn't help himself. "Rattle starting to grow on you, too?"

"Don't be an ass, sarcasm is my shtick." Pursing his lips, Roddy fixed John with a hard stare. "When I was a little boy I would go and visit my Granny in Mexico. I saw things, things that are making me feel weird about this case."

Roddy's words sent another skittering chill through John, and he whispered, "The hits just keep on comin'."

Roddy looked over at him. "She was a good woman, don't let the witch part freak you out. She healed people, helped people, but sometimes they came to her with bad things that herbs just couldn't fix.

"People said she had power. And let me tell you...hoo." Roddy nodded his head. "I saw some scary shit when I was a boy."

"I wish your Granny was here now," John said with a hollow laugh.

"No shit, cowboy. You and me both, but she died many years ago." Roddy stared out the windshield. "That hum Rattle described...I know what he means," his voice trailed off into a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Whenever something bad was happening and people were coming to my Abuelita, that hum would just be there, pulsing, angry, like pissed off hornets. She would say, 'Manito, don't listen to it. You're a good boy and I'll protect you', and she would.

"She'd chase away the bad things." Roddy shifted in his seat uncomfortably, looking at John. "I felt that hum the first day we found that priest, and then Dave...." He shuddered.

"Roddy--"

"No, listen to me. That hum is here. There are bad things coming, and I feel like a scared little boy right now," Roddy said, drawing in a long raspy breath.

"I know, man." The police station was just up ahead and John angled into the parking lot. "In a way, I'm glad I'm not the only one," he said with a genuine laugh as he eased the car into his parking space.

"No one is gonna believe us." Roddy leaned forward to put his hands on the dashboard.

"Hell, I don't even believe us. I think it's going to get a lot worse, and for some reason, the three of us will be right in the thick of it," John said bitterly, slamming his car door for emphasis.

"This is so frickin' surreal." Roddy slowly got out of the car and looked up at the sky. The stars were out, slightly muted by the parking lot lights. 

John walked up next to him and they stood there in silence. In the darkness, John imagined something waiting, lurking in the shadows and anticipating that moment of terror when it burst forth and tore him limb from limb. Goose bumps jumped out all over his body and he wrapped his arms around himself. Next to him, Roddy was also staring into the darkness, a faraway look on his shadowed face.

"Detective Bergenson!" The shout startled them both and they jumped. Chief Williamson was storming across the parking lot towards them.

"Could this night get any worse?" Roddy mumbled. John shot him a scowl, the comment adding to his unease, and put his hands in his rumpled suit pockets.

"Chief," John said cautiously.

"Where the hell have you been?" The Chief looked angry.

Chasing windmills, John almost said but instead, "Following some leads on the case." He managed to keep a straight face.

"I haven't heard from you all day since you did your little disappearing act at the mosque. We have a case meeting in fifteen minutes about all this, there are some developments." Williamson looked flustered. "If you are going to keep disappearing then maybe you should just stay disappeared." The Chief jabbed his finger at John's chest, who just chewed his lip and stayed quiet.

"I know Dave was your friend," the Chief spat out. "But you are still a detective and I expect you to do your job." Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, Williamson stared at John derisively. "You told me you were fine to come back to work, but damn it!" He shook his head. "If you need time then take it, and don't waste ours."

"So much for the understanding boss," Roddy said under his breath.

"What was that?" Williamson asked, glaring at Roddy.

"Just an opinion from the County Medical Examiner," Roddy answered with a sneer. He started to say something else but John stepped in front of him.

"Chief," John put his hands up in supplication, "I was wrong not to report in, but I'm fine. Dave was my best friend and a damn fine cop." He gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "It hit me hard, but I'm on this case, full attention," he lied.

Williamson's face lost some of its anger. "You're a good cop, too," he said. "I'll trust your word that you are capable right now. We need everyone on this." The Chief looked at Roddy and sneered. "You on the other hand, are a smug little prick." He turned around and started walking towards the station.

"Meeting in ten minutes, move your asses!" The Chief yelled over his shoulder.

"Definitely not telling him about Lem, now." John smirked and then frowned. It was getting harder and harder to keep a sense of humor.

As he walked towards the station, he looked over his shoulder into the darkness. Something was there; it was watching them and he could feel it. He glanced at Roddy and knew he was thinking the same thing. Without saying a word, they quickened their pace and then both bolted for the front door.