Ghost River by Jon Coon (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📕

he didn’t take the jump without help? No signs of a struggle,” Bob said.

There was an ornate tray on the corner of Bo’s desk that should have held four glasses and a decanter. Three glasses remained. With latex-gloved hands, Gabe picked up one of the glasses.

“You know,” Gabe said, “looking at those photos, Bo was a man who appreciated a drink; or more likely a whole bunch of drinks. So where’s that decanter and the fourth glass? Was he drugged or drunk before he took the jump? Someone should have told him; it’s not healthy to drink alone.”

Police were removing files and computers as Gabe and Bob left the building. Standing at the door was a very angry, very attractive blond in an elegant skirt and jacket yelling, “You can’t do this! That’s private property. I’ll sue . . .”

Gabe watched and wondered, who is that, and how does she keep from falling in those ridiculously high heels?

By midafternoon Bob took Gabe back to the RV, and Gabe picked up the police cruiser. There was no sign of Carol’s rental car, but it was still early. It was time to meet Cas.

She’d asked him to meet her at a roadhouse not far from the highway. The place was dark, smoky, and mostly empty. Cas sat in a back booth with a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray alongside three other dead butts. Based on the look in her eyes, Gabe guessed she’d also had a drink or two.

“Bonjour,” she greeted him.

“Bonjour, Cas,” he replied without smiling. “Where’s your mother?”

“Ma Mére is talking with a contractor about getting that stupid shack rebuilt. You know her being here is all your fault. If you would just come home she could be living a civilized life again.”

“I don’t understand. She said she wanted a retreat away from the university where she could focus on her book. She wants it to be authentic, and living here put her closer to what slave living conditions were back in the day.”

Cas shook her head and frowned, “Wake up, Gabe. The only reason she came here was to tame you and bring you home.”

“That can’t be right, Cas. She’s never said . . .”

“No, it’s not right, but it’s the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think she welcomed you to our home and asked you all those questions about your family and what happened to your mother?”

“She said she and my mother were cousins. That she didn’t know about the problems with my father.”

“They were more than cousins, Gabe. They were best friends when they were girls. Your mother drifted away about the time she and your dad began having trouble. Ma Mére was heartbroken when she learned what happened.”

“So?”

“So she brought you home.” Cas paused, looked into Gabe’s eyes, and took his hand across the dark table. “She brought you home for me.”

“What?”

“Think about it. Remember all those evenings she had to work late at school? She didn’t ever do that until she moved you in. She wanted us to be together.”

“But why?”

“It’s about the power, the vision. With every generation, the power is diluted. The further from the source, the weaker the blood. Gifts like yours and mine are nearly gone. If she could bring us together, our bébés would be the most powerful in ages.”

“And you knew?”

“No. That’s where it went wrong. She counted on letting nature take its course: put two hot-blooded creoles together and get out the way.”

“That part certainly worked.”

“More than you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was pregnant when you left.” She pulled away her hand and waited for him to respond.

Gabe sank back in the booth staring at her in amazement. “You never said—”

“I didn’t know until you were gone. Then what was the point. You didn’t want me.”

“Oh, Cas, I’m—”

“You’re sorry? I lost my soul because of you. You should be sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had an abortion.”

“Oh, no . . .” He reached back across the table for her hand, but she pulled away again. They sat quietly for a while. Gabe was utterly unsure of what to say.

She finally broke the awkward silence with, “I want another drink.” She waved to the bartender, then opened her purse and found cigarettes. She dug for her lighter, and when the purse flopped open, Gabe saw the white plastic grip of a thin profile, high standard .22 derringer sticking out of a small holster. She lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply, waiting for her drink.

Gabe picked up his tea glass and stirred the lemon while trying to unravel the information Cas had thrown at him. “So why now? Why are you telling me now?”

She leaned forward, her ebony eyes hard as stone. “Because of her. The widow and her kids. You’re making a huge mistake. Darlin’, I know your history like nobody else. You think she’s going to stay with you, have bébés with you, once she finds out who you really are?”

“She knows,” he opened his hands on the table as though showing all his cards.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

“She knows everything,” he said and shifted on the hard booth seat.

“I’m the only one you’ll ever be safe with. I’m the only one who knows all your secrets and still loves you. When you wake, screaming at night, I know what you see. I will walk that walk with you, and I can set you free. Or—”

“Or what?”

“Or I can make your life and hers extremely difficult.”

“Cas, you wouldn’t—”

“You forget. I loved you. I gave myself to you, and you threw me out like last year’s Christmas tree. Thanks to you my soul is forfeit. I got nothing else to lose, babe. Give me one reason I should have mercy on you now.”

“Carol and her kids have nothing to do with us. Leave them out of it.”

“You want them out? Come home with me and promise you’ll never see them again.”

“I made a promise to Charlie, her dead husband, to watch out for them.”

“Well, good luck with that.