The Lurker at the Threshold : A Horror Mystery by Brandon Berntson (feel good books txt) 📕

yawned.  “Mill, it’s eight o’clock in the morning.  I haven’t even showered, had any coffee, and you’re hounding me.  Speaking of hounds, did you hear anything last night?”

“Like what?”

“Like the baying of a hound?  Didn’t I just say that?”

She frowned.  “No.  What are you talking about?  A hound?”

“Nothing.  Maybe I imagined it.”

“You’re driving me crazy!”

“I’m not having any fun, either.  This conversation is driving me crazy.  I need a drink.”  He poured another drink in the short glass and downed it.  He winced.  “Okay, that’s a little better.  I can see more clearly.  My brain is functioning.”

Millie sighed.  It was a long, exasperated sigh.  “I want to kill you right now.”

“I could do with a hammer blow myself.  Put me out of my misery.”

“How much of that book did you read?” she asked.

“I read a few incantations out loud, but I couldn’t understand the words, let alone how to pronounce them.”

“You read the incantations out loud?”

“Should I not have done that?”

Millie balled her hands into fists and all but screamed at the ceiling.  She looked at him with a mixture of anger and horror.  “It’s my fault,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left you alone with it.”

“You’re making too much of it.  What could possibly happen?”

Millie looked at him for a long time.  “Come on, we’re taking that thing back.”

“Let me have a cup of coffee first.  I think I’ve earned that.”

“Earned what?”

“I’m trying to get the glue out of my eyes.  Let me brush my teeth, too.”

“I’ll allow that.”

“I got that book for you because I thought you would like it,” Macky said in his defense.  “It was a gift.  Get it?  Like I was thinking about you.  And how much you liked books.”

She folded her arms.  “I don’t like that thing.  It’s vile.  It’s monstrous.  It’s evil.”

“That’s the last time I try and surprise you with anything.  Pitched my soul just to make you happy.  You know, I can’t always afford to pay you, but you’re such a loyal trooper, I try to do what I can.”

“I’m flattered.  Can we go now?”

“Let me have a drink first.”

“You’ve had two already!”

“It was a bad nightmare.  I got the chills.  This will help me warm up.  That guy that was chasing me with the pitchfork was really scary.  Besides, you’ll like me better.”

“I don’t even like you a little.”

“Yeah, but the drink will change all that.”

—

“Let’s see,” Macky said, putting a finger to his chin.  “I know that place was around here somewhere.”

It was a cloudy, breezy, October morning.  The day was underway with traffic and passersby.  Autumn leaves tumbled down the streets from nearby maple and elm trees.  Macky and Millie were standing on Lincoln Avenue where a row of businesses lined the block.

“I know Lincoln Avenue pretty well, Dev, and I can’t remember a bookstore being here.  Are you sure we’re on the right street?”

“Positive.  I think.  Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re on the right street.  I wasn’t in my soberest mindset?”

“It’s an ongoing theme, even if I am getting bored with it.”

“If I resurrected some cosmic horror from the depths of the ancient tome, I’m sure I’ll be forgiven.  I mean, it was an accident.”

“I think you’re taking this too lightly.”

Macky shrugged.  “I don’t get emotionally involved in my work.  That’s why I’m good at what I do.  I have to see things from a more objective point of view.  That’s why our side always wins.”

“What’s your point of view telling you about the bookstore?”

He looked up and down the block again and frowned.  “Maybe I’m on the wrong street.”

Millie sighed.

“Just let me state, for the record,” Macky said, “that this doesn’t necessarily mean anything.  There might not be any validity to it.  Which makes me think you’re making more out of this than I am.”

“Dev?”

“You want to gouge out my eyes with your fingernails?”

“You’re finally getting to know me,” Millie said.

“You play hardball.  I should’ve seen that coming.”

They looked up and down the street.  There was no bookstore.

“Huh,” he said, rubbing his chin.

“There’s no bookshop on this block, Dev.”

“Maybe the lease was up.  That happens occasionally, doesn’t it?”

“The lease was up when you visited last night and they moved by morning?  Is that what you’re saying.”

“That happens, doesn’t it?”

“Dev, Dev, Dev.”

“There’s the hat store, Top of My Pate,” Macky said, pointing.  “I remember that.  So, this is definitely the block.”

The coupe was parked down the street.  The wind started to blow.  October was getting colder.  The sky was a solid, overcast gray, making everything gloomy, moody, and somber.

Macky had the book under his arm.  “What else do you know about this thing, Mill?” he asked.

“Middle Eastern Occultism,” she said.  “The myths and legends of H.P. Lovecraft, most of which have proven to be true.”

“An unfortunate thing, to be precise.”

“It all goes back several centuries,” Millie said.  “A Latin version of the text exists somewhere, first mentioned in Spain, about fourteen hundred, I think.  I could be wrong.  I know the thing is evil and has lots of bad history attached to it.  And here you are with your very own copy.  Lucky dog.”

“I do get lucky on occasion,” Macky said.

“I think there are forces at work in Innsport, Dev.”

“Again?”

“This poor city.  It’s a pitstop for cosmic, ancient evil.  And slow-witted private eyes.”

“You’re hitting me in tender spots, Mill.  Let me remind you for the umpteenth time, I was just trying to do something nice.”

“You can just take me out for a hamburger next time,” she said.

“That sounds good.  I haven’t eaten anything but bourbon.”

“You don’t eat anything but bourbon.”

“Tender again, Mill.”

They walked a ways, and Macky looked up