Read Online Voodoo Moon by Ed Gorman - Free Book Online

believed that nobody could survive a fall into the rapids. Not even Renard . Two of the deputies who followed him to the edge of the cliff swore they saw his head being smashed against the jagged rocks in the churning waters. One even said that he saw blood spray from Renard's skull when Renard hit the rapids and then the dam. He assured the press that nobody, however wealthy, however elegant, however cunning, could possibly have escaped those rapids. And then being hurtled over the dam itself.
    But still, there were those locals who insisted that he had not only survived but had returned in another guise. This was at least in the realm—however unlikely—of the possible.
    The supernatural stories were another matter. Rick Hennessy wasn't the first person to claim that he had been possessed by the malignant spirit of Renard . At least three others accused of murder had also blamed Renard's hardworking ghost for their troubles.
    A sanitized version of Renard's life story (wanton mental-hospital voodoo orgies not included) was told to local students at Halloween. And a Hollywood producer, no less ( Angels and Tramps , Sisters in Sin , and My Bed or Yours? ) had visited here twice, both times discussing at length the Paul Renard story. He was especially interested in the "wanton mental-hospital voodoo orgies," a descriptive phrase that he, as a matter of fact, had come up with. So far, the cap was still on the lens.
     
    "F ascinating, isn't it?" the librarian said when I brought the file back to the front desk. She was a nice-looking woman in a navy blouse and bias-cut print skirt.
    "He was a busy boy."
    "You think there's any chance he's still alive?"
    "He'd be seventy-two years old now."
    She gave a little shudder. She was fiftyish and very cute. "I guess I just like scaring myself. I still love ghost stories. And I always watch the horror movies with my two boys." Then, "But you know, a lot of people still believe that he's still here somewhere."
    "Just wandering around spooking people?"
    She gave me an impish smile. "You picked yourself an interesting case to work on, Mr. Payne."

SIX
     
    I raised my hand and was about to knock when I heard Tandy's voice say, from behind the motel room door, "Just go fuck yourself, Laura."
    "Oh, that's nice. I'm holding all this together and you're telling me to go fuck myself."
    "Don't play the martyr. If you're holding this together, it's for your own sake. Not mine. You like all this bullshit."
    I figured I'd do them a favor by knocking. I knocked. Tandy opened the door. "I'll bet you heard us screaming ."
    I smiled. "Just the 'fuck off' part."
    "Oh, good," Laura said behind Tandy. "He didn't hear the 'stick it up your ass' part."
    "Now, that would've shocked me."
    Tandy waved me in. "Our secret is out, I'm afraid. My sister is an arrogant, cynical, selfish bitch. Nothing personal, of course."
    "This is just like pro wrestling," I said.
    "The diva is throwing a diva fit," Laura said. "The cable folks want her to do a couple of teasers about the ghostly spirit of Paul Renard . And she won't do it."
    "We don't even know if there is a ghostly spirit," Tandy said.
    "That's why I won't do it. If I honestly believed that Rick was possessed, then I wouldn't mind doing it."
    "You want me to show you our last Nielsen, babe?" Laura said.
    "Don't call me babe."
    "Lowest rating we ever got."
    "The ratings'll get even lower if I start faking stuff."
    "They can't get any lower. Babe."
    The motel room was identical to mine. Badly scuffed brown outdoor carpeting. Heavily glued but surprisingly spindly desk, a small water-scarred bureau, bed. And paintings of horses done by somebody who didn't know much about anatomy, equine or otherwise. There was a submarine-like darkness and dampness to it, a netherworld atmosphere—with the door closed at least—where salesmen battled loneliness and adulterers battled guilt and drifters battled those stray dangerous impulses that came on with meth or coke.
    "You