Trouble in Hell (Hell Night 1)

“I need you to find out anything you can on a Remi Stone. She lives in Magnolia, Mississippi and has a brother in the Air Force. Stationed in Colorado. Age is twenty-six. Let me know if you need more info.”

“I may be able to work with that. She the new woman in town?”

“Yes.”

“Anything we need to worry about?”

“No. Just being cautious.”

Remi’s hiding something, but I’ll keep my suspicions to myself until I know more. Unfortunately, when you live in a town such as Malus and do what we do, you learn to be watchful around anyone who has the potential to be troublesome. I don’t think Remi is here for any other reason than she just happened to stumble across Malus under duress, but something tells me more is going on with her than meets the eye.

“One more thing, JW. Keep this under wraps. If anything’s found we should be concerned about, I’ll tell Judge and Emo.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and I hope he doesn’t press me on this. Thankfully, he finally says, “Got it. I’ll let you know as soon as I find something.”

I hang up and pocket my phone. As I walk back to the office, I wonder again what that text message was and who it was from. That’s not the first time I’ve gotten a cryptic reply from her. When I asked why she was going to Colorado, I got the sense there was more to the story than her just visiting her brother. If I had to guess, I’d say she was running from something.

I just don’t know if that something, or someone, is dangerous. Or why that last thought sours my stomach and makes me want to do irreparable damage to the thing that put that distressed look on her face.

REMI

I DROP A BAG OF EGG noodles in the shopping cart and move down the aisle and onto the next one. Oreos and Lorna Doones get thrown in next, because a girl can’t live without either of them, especially a pregnant one. At least this girl can’t. Spotting the meat section, I push my shopping cart that way. I told Susan I’d make homemade chicken noodle soup for dinner. It’s a recipe Mom had that she got from her mother. Mom died when I was five from breast cancer. I don’t really remember her, except for fragments that I’m not entirely sure are real. Dad talked about her a lot, and he gave me her recipes when I was old enough to cook. It may sound silly, but when I cook something I knew she enjoyed cooking herself, I feel closer to her. Like she’s there in the room with me or something.

After throwing in a package of chicken breasts into the cart, I walk over to the produce for some celery. I was pleasantly surprised at the selection in the small grocer I’m in. The place looks deceptively small from the outside, so I wasn’t hopeful it would have much of an assortment. It’s much bigger than it appears. Of course, Malus is a good hour away from any other grocery store, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, people have to shop for groceries, right? I can’t imagine driving an hour to do it, and I can’t imagine anyone else would want to either. What Trouble said was true; Malus is a little world of its own. They seem to have everything they need here.

Down the canned food aisle, I come to a stop when I hear voices. They’re on the next aisle over, and I can’t see them, but I can tell they’re teenage boys. My nosiness gets the better of me, and I move closer to the shelves to listen.

“Did you actually see them do it?” one boy asks. If he’s trying to whisper, he should really work on that because it sounds more like a whisper-yell.

“Yes,” answers another boy, and I note a hint of anxiety in his voice.

“Dude, you know you’ll be in big trouble if they find out you saw. No one’s allowed at the clearing except them.”

I edge closer to the shelf.

“I fucking know that, Drew. It wasn’t even my fault I was there. The damn dog got loose again, and I had to go after it.”

“I bet you about shit your britches watching it, huh?”

“Naw. It didn’t scare me any,” the boy says. Even without seeing his face, I can tell he’s lying from the slight quiver in his voice.

There’s a snort, indicating he didn’t fool whoever he’s talking to either.

“What was it like?” a new voice asks.

It’s silent for a moment before the boy answers, his voice lower than before. “We all know the animal needed to be put down, but it was still eerie as hell. They shot him, dropped him in a hole, and covered him up.”

What kind of animal are they talking about? There’re several dangerous animals native to Texas. A shiver races down my spine. We’re in the middle of nowhere, so it could be any number of them.

“Told you he was scared,” snickers one boy, pulling me from my thoughts.

There’s a shuffle, then a grunt before the one named Drew whines, “Damn, Tommy. What was that for?”

“Because you’re an asshole, that’s why. Come on, let’s go. Mom’s waiting on the rice.”

Shoes squeak across the floor as the boys move away, and I’m left standing there a little shaken. I clutch my cross and release an unsteady breath, feeling comfort in the cool metal between my fingers. The way the boys spoke about the animal indicated that whatever happened that caused them to kill it has happened before. Has there been an increase number of attacks? Is it against people or other animals? Should the people in Malus be concerned and keep a careful eye out for them? From Trouble’s statement a few days ago about being prepared for most situations during labor, I would assume it applies to medical situations in general. But how prepared could they be for an animal attack that required surgery or a blood transfusion? What are the chances of a wild animal wondering into town? Malus is small, but you would think the lights and noises would keep them away, but maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe they’re rabid.

Now I have an image of Cujo in my mind. That movie always freaked me out and gave me nightmares as a child.