Devil's Throat (The River Book 6) Read online

  Devil’s Throat

  By Michael Richan

  By the author:

  The River series:

  The Bank of the River

  Residual

  A Haunting in Oregon

  Ghosts of Our Fathers

  Eximere

  The Suicide Forest

  Devil’s Throat

  The Diablo Horror

  The Haunting at Grays Harbor

  It Walks At Night

  The Downwinders series:

  Blood Oath, Blood River

  The Impossible Coin

  The Graves of Plague Canyon

  The Dark River series:

  A

  All three series are part of The River Universe, and there is crossover of some characters and plots. For a suggested reading order, see the Author’s Website.

  Copyright 2014 by Michael Richan

  All Rights Reserved.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.

  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  www.michaelrichan.com

  This book is available in print at most online retailers.

  ASIN: B00JEHRS28

  Published by Dantull (148415127A)

  ◊

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  For Kym, Kimberly, and Carol

  “You can’t imagine how horrible it is to have a child betray you.”

  — Anita Unser

  Chapter One

  “Is Jennifer here?” Steven asked the young man who opened the door. He had shoulder length dreadlocks and looked stoned out of his mind. Steven wasn’t sure he’d heard the question. “I’m Jason’s dad.”

  “Oh,” he said after a moment, thinking about it. His eyes hadn’t yet made contact with Steven. “Come in.”

  Steven and Roy stepped into the entry hall of the large Victorian mansion on 34th Street. “Hold on,” the dreadlocked young man said as he walked up the staircase and disappeared. Then they heard him yelling for Jennifer.

  Steven looked into the front living room. Every 7-11 container and wrapper imaginable was lying crumpled on the floor. Some of it looked and smelled as though it had been around for a long time. He could see the remnants of a nacho tray, the leftover bright orange nacho cheese having long ago solidified into a dark brown puddle with little green jalapeno islands. Next to the nacho tray was a foot-wide path, one of several rabbit trails that led in and through the wrapper piles.

  “Kids,” Roy said, shaking his head.

  “The freedom to not have to pick up after yourself,” Steven said.

  “The freedom to live like a goddamn pig!” Roy said.

  The young man reappeared at the top landing and descended. His dreadlocks bounced as he came down the stairs. “She’s coming,” he said, and twisted around the banister in a smooth motion, walking away from them into a back room.

  “I’m sure he would have offered us a place to sit,” Roy said sarcastically, “if there was one.”

  Jennifer came down the stairs. She was short and thin, with shoulder length blonde hair. Her features were classic. No surprises here, Steven thought. Jason knows how to pick them.

  “Hi?” she said. “So, you’re like, Jason’s dad?” Her voice was a little airy, and on the edge of whiney.

  “Yes,” Steven said, extending his hand. “And this is my father, Jason’s grandfather, Roy.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Roy said.

  “Jason’s, like, not here right now,” Jennifer said.

  “Yes, I know,” Steven said. “He left me a message saying he was going out of town. The reason I wanted to meet you, aside from just getting to know you and saying hello, was to ask if you knew where he went.”

  “Nevada, I think,” she said, looking between Steven and Roy.

  “Any idea where in Nevada?” Steven asked.

  “Some town, I forget the name,” she said. “Like, none of the big towns. Not Las Vegas.”

  “Have you talked to him since he left?” Steven asked.

  “Last night,” she said. “He was, like, in Oregon. Is something wrong?”

  “There might be,” Steven said. “I need to reach him, and he’s not answering his cell phone.”

  “He said he was like going somewhere where there might be like bad reception,” she said, flipping her hair back on one side. She is pretty, Steven thought. Every girlfriend Jason has had was pretty. Nothing yet that tells me she’s smart, though.

  “Are you expecting him to call you again today?” Steven asked.

  “I hope so,” Jennifer said. “If he can, like, find reception.”

  “If you talk to him, would you do me a favor?” Steven said.

  “Sure, what?” She flipped her hair back again, on the same side.

  “Tell him that it’s very important that he call me on my cell phone, as soon as he can,” Steven said. “Can I give you my number, just in case he needs it?”

  “Alright,” she said, pulling her phone from her pocket. She tapped a few keys and said, “Go ahead.”

  Steven read her his number, and she typed it in, reading it back to him. “And would you call me, right after he calls you?” Steven asked. “So I know he’s gotten through.”

  “OK,” she said, “I’ll call you.”

  “Do you know who he went with?” Roy asked.

  “That creep Michael,” she said, “from next door.”

  “So you’ve met him,” Roy said.

  “You know him?” Jennifer asked. “I’m sorry, but he’s just, like, creepy.”

  “What makes you say that?” Roy asked.

  “He was always coming over, pestering Jason,” Jennifer said. “I figured he was like gay or something. Jason seemed to like him, always asked him over. I don’t know, he just, like, gave me the creeps. He was way too interested in my boyfriend.”

  “Do you know,” Roy asked, “if the trip was Michael’s idea?”

  “Totally,” she said. “At first Jason wasn’t going to go. I was like, ‘you’ve only known Michael for a couple of days’. But then something changed, and Jason was like, ‘I have to go.’ Nothing I said mattered. He wouldn’t really tell me why. He said he’d be back in like a week.”

  “Alright,” Steven said. “We’ll let you go. Thanks for helping me reach him, if he calls. It’s very, very important.”

  “Sure,” she said. Steven and Roy turned and walked to the door, letting themselves out. Jennifer shut the door behind them.

  “Do you think Michael knew Jason was my son?” Steven asked Roy, standing on the front porch of the house.

  “Either that, or he picked up on Jason’s gift,” Roy said. “Doesn’t matter either way, he knows Jason’s your son now.”

  “I knew we should have killed this guy,” Steven said, walking to his car. “I let you talk me out of it.”

  “Let’s not leave just yet,” Roy said. “I’d like to do a little browsing around.”

  “What, Michael’s place next door?” Steven asked.

  “Exactly,” Roy said. “He’s gone. We might find something there that would tell us where they’re going.”

  Steven followed Roy as he walked next door to Michael’s residence. They’d been in Michael’s house a couple of times the year before, when they were trying to locate a man named Lukas Johansen, the former owner of the Victorian
now housing the students. Michael had been working with Lukas at the time, a conspirator in Lukas’ crimes. Steven and Roy had taken care of Lukas, but they decided to ignore Michael, since Lukas seemed the one with the power. Steven didn’t like the idea of ignoring Michael, but he let Roy convince him that Michael wasn’t a threat. He was regretting it now.

  Roy walked behind the house to the back yard, where they’d first met Michael. The same lawn furniture was there. Roy walked up to a sliding glass French door and peered inside.

  “I don’t see any movement,” Roy said.

  “How do you want to break in?” Steven asked.

  “Let me check the rest of the house,” Roy said, leaving and walking around the far side of the building. Steven stepped up to the glass doors and cupped his hands around his eyes so he could eliminate the glare of the sun. He was looking into a kitchen.

  Roy returned. “There’s a basement window, but it’s too small,” he said. “I think the easiest way would be to smash a bedroom window on the far side. It’s protected from the neighbor’s view. I don’t think there’s an alarm.”

  Steven followed Roy around the house to the far side, where Roy pointed out the window he’d selected. He held his elbow up to the window and tapped at it until it cracked, then he tapped at it again until a couple of pieces fell out. He carefully removed the remaining pieces.

  “I’ll do it,” Steven said. “And I’ll come around and let you in the sliding glass doors.”

  “Alright,” Roy said, bending down to give Steven a boost.

  Steven landed on a bed. He rolled off and looked around the room.

  Michael’s bedroom, he thought. It looked normal, all the regular male bedroom items. There was an adjoining bathroom. Steven stepped out of the bedroom and into a hallway. In a moment he’d made his way to the kitchen and opened the door for Roy.

  “Where should we start?” Steven asked, looking around.

  “Let’s take it a room at a time,” Roy said, walking into the living room. “Look through everything.”

  They checked every inch of the room, lifting cushions and flipping through magazines. Then they moved to the next room and continued searching. They opened every drawer and cabinet. Eventually they reached a second bedroom that looked like an office. Steven searched the desk and filing cabinets thoroughly.

  “Nothing so far,” Steven told Roy. “You?”

  “Nope,” Roy said. “Me either.”

  The search ended when they came to the last door, locked with a dead bolt. “The basement, I’d guess,” Roy said. “Who knows what he might have down there.”

  “Are we going to bust it down?” Steven asked.

  “Oh, I think so,” Roy said. “Let me see what he has in the shed in the back.”

  Roy left the house through the sliding glass doors in the kitchen and returned with a Sawzall. “We’ll cut through the door!” he said, smiling. In a few minutes, Roy had cut a hand sized hole in the door near the dead bolt. He reached inside and found the handle. The door popped open.

  “He’ll be surprised when he comes home,” Steven said.

  “He knows we’ll break in,” Roy said. “I don’t think he’ll be surprised.”

  Roy found a light switch on the wall of the stairwell and turned it on. They heard fluorescent lights popping to life below.

  “You first,” Steven said. “I’ll follow.”

  Roy stepped onto the bare wooden steps of the basement stairway and began to descend. At the bottom was a large open room. The floor was bare cement. Steven could see a sump pump in a corner next to a washer and dryer. There were boxes stacked on pallets to keep the cardboard from coming in contact with the cement on the floor. In the back was another door. Roy tried the handle – it was locked.

  “I’ll get the saw,” Steven said, turning to go back upstairs.

  “Wait,” Roy said. “I don’t think there’s a deadbolt on this one. Let me try to kick it in.”

  “Why don’t I try instead of you?” Steven said. “You’ll throw your back out and then we’ll be up shit creek.”

  “Your old man still has some strength, you know,” Roy said, smiling and raising his foot. He brought it forward against the door with force, and the door flew open with pieces of wood from the doorframe splintering into the room.

  “That felt good!” Roy said, taking a deep breath and smiling. “I think I’ll kick in a door every day, just to stay healthy.”

  Steven stepped into the open room and found a light switch on the wall. The room was filled with wooden shelves, lined with objects. Most were inside glass jars.

  “Looks like Michael’s got his own collection going,” Roy said, examining the objects. “Look here!” He pointed to a glass jar at eye level. Steven stepped over to Roy and checked it out – it contained a small planchette, similar to the one he’d seen Judith use. It was resting on a bed of cedar shavings.

  “No engravings on it,” Steven said. “Looks a lot like Judith’s.”

  “Christ!” Roy said, having moved on to another jar. It looked like a baby’s head inside, suspended in a light brown liquid. “Please tell me that’s not real.”

  “It’s not,” Steven said, examining the jar. “It’s a doll’s head. Why it’s in liquid I don’t know.”

  “We know he was involved with Lukas’ child murders,” Roy said. “He’s certainly smart enough to not keep something around that would incriminate him.”

  Steven removed the jar from the shelf and opened it. “Doesn’t smell,” he said, reaching inside the jar.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Roy said, but Steven had already grabbed the doll head and was pulling it from the jar. Steven was startled when the doll head revolved in his hand and opened its mouth.

  “Ow!” he yelped, dropping the doll head on the floor and setting the jar back on the shelf. “It bit me!”

  “I told you,” Roy said, moving on to look at other parts of the room.

  Steven reached down for the doll head, but it rolled out of sight under a set of shelves. He got down on his hands and knees, looking for where it had gone. The doll’s head was there, under the bottom shelf, watching him. Its mouth wrinkled when it saw him, and Steven noticed a row of sharp white teeth. Then it hissed at him. I’m not reaching under there to get it, he thought. It can stay there for all I care.

  “We’ve got to hurry this up,” Steven said, returning to his feet. “Jason is getting further and further away.”

  “For all we know, they’ve reached their destination by now,” Roy said. “I’m not seeing much in this room that would tell us where they’ve gone.”

  Steven looked over the jars and instruments that were out on a counter against a wall. Michael’s workbench, Steven thought. There was a piece of paper, tri-folded into a brochure, sitting under one of the jars. Steven lifted the jar and picked up the brochure. It was water stained as though it had been used as a coaster. He opened it and read.

  “It’s too bad we don’t have access to government systems,” Roy said, poking through the jars on the shelves. “You could track Jason’s cell phone.”

  Steven stopped reading. “That hadn’t even occurred to me,” he said.

  “You got some friends in government?” Roy asked.

  “No, I don’t think I need that,” Steven said. He stuffed the brochure into his pocket. “Come on, we need to get back to my house. I need to get to my computer.”

  “What for?” Roy asked.

  “I think I can track his phone,” Steven said. “He’s on my cell account.”

  ◊

  At Steven’s house, Roy watched over Steven’s shoulder as he accessed a website for his carrier. “Jason’s been on my account for years,” Steven said. “It’s cheaper for him. He pays me part of his bill every few months. I remember seeing something about tracking children’s cell phones that are on your account. I’ve never used it, but it might be the answer.”

  “That’s how they track you,” Roy said, “the gover
nment. They want to track all of us, to know where we are all the time.”

  “Why would the government care where you and I go?” Steven said. “They have enough on their plate just trying to figure out where the bad guys go.”

  “You don’t get it,” Roy said. “To them, we’re all the bad guys.”

  Steven knew it was pointless to continue this conversation with Roy. As a child, he’d spent many years learning how to press Roy’s buttons, but lately he’d been learning how not to start something with him unnecessarily. The best thing, he found, was to just change the subject.

  “Here it is,” Steven said. “Find My Phone!” Steven clicked a few more times, and a map appeared, showing a trail from Seattle down to southern Nevada.

  “Look,” Steven said, pointing to the map on the screen. Roy bent over to examine the map.

  “By Vegas?” Roy asked.

  “Northeast of Vegas,” Steven said. “Overton.”

  “We’d best get moving,” Roy said. “Pack up and we’ll swing by my place on the way out.”

  Chapter Two

  The sun set as they crossed from Washington into Oregon. “Let’s stop in Pendleton for some coffee,” Roy said. “I’m going to need something to keep me awake.”

  “I want to check in with Jennifer, see if she’s heard anything,” Steven said. He removed his phone from his jacket pocket and dialed while driving. In a moment Jennifer came on the line and they talked back and forth for a few minutes. A couple of times Steven sighed patiently while Jennifer talked.

  “Nothing,” Steven said, replacing the phone in his pocket. “She hasn’t heard from him at all. Overton’s big enough to have cell reception. Something’s wrong.”

  “Michael’s likely separated him from his phone by now,” Roy said. “I hope we’ll find Jason when we find his phone, but it’s unlikely.”

  “Let’s try for a little more optimism, shall we?” Steven said.

  “I’m just sayin’,” Roy said. “No sense in lying about things.”