I stumble, arms flying up, timing it for when he’s right behind me. I let out a shriek as I fall, and he grabs my arm. I twist, pushing at him, and he backs up fast, eyes widening as he lifts his hands.
“I was just trying to help,” he says.
I clutch my shoulder. “Youwrenchedmy arm. Thathurt.”
Again, it’s almost comical how fast he retreats. Or it would be if it didn’t confirm what I suspect.
Craig Smits knows all about the nekkers… including who is bonded to them.
Thirty-Two
“Don’t want to hurt me, huh?” I say. “I wonder why. And don’t say it’s because I’m descended from the town founders or any shit like that.”
He winces at the profanity. “Sam…”
“You have two choices,Craig.Well, three. Option three is that you physically stop me and suffer what we both know are the consequences. Option two is that you pretend you don’t know what’s happened to Ben and I call the lawyer, who was wondering why his phone was off. Apparently, she gets an alert. Also? If Ben’s phone is off, he doesn’t get money for his father, which means he did not turn off his phone or let the battery die.”
Smits tries not to react to that, but I see his wince.
“Option one?” I continue. “Tell me where the fuck Ben is. I don’t care about the rest. I want to know where to find Ben.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Of course it’s not. It never is.”
Smits eases back. “I know the legend. About the Paynes and the drowned dead. My family has been here nearly as long as yours. People talk. But that’s all it is. A legend. After I leafed through that book inside, I realized Ben had shown you that to convince you it was real—after setting it all up to scare you off, make you lose yourinheritance. I confronted him. He stalked away. He turned off his phone because he knew the gig was up.”
“You’ve heard the legend.”
“Yes, like I said—”
“I want the truth, Sheriff. There is no way you flipped through that book and recognized the story. The writing is faint, the penmanship is hard to decipher, the language is old. Flipping through only told you that we’d found a book you’ve seen before. My notes told you we’d deciphered it.”
“I—”
“You’re afraid to hurt me based on a legend you don’t believe?” I meet his gaze. “Bull. Shit. You know the legend is true, and you know I’m the focus. Do you know why my aunt died? Because she was trying to restrain me when we fought. She let go, and I fell. That was it. A mistake. So if I attack you, and you justifiably stop me…?”
I step toward him. He backs up.
“Tell me again how you don’t believe the legend,” I say.
“It’s not—It’s complicated, Sam, and I think Ben has been messing around, thinking it’s just some old story, and it’s not. All right? It’s not.”
He starts to shove his hands into his pockets and then thinks better of it, keeping them where I can see them. “I said the Smitses have been here forever. For generations, my ancestors worked for your family. They… assisted them. In return for some of the benefits.”
I remember that from the book. The recommendation that the Paynes bring someone local in on the plan. Both to help find victims and as a potential fall guy.
“So your family sacrificed travelers—”
“What? No. Of course not.” He takes a breath. “That isn’t how it works, Sam. Yes, sacrifices are needed, but no one kills anybody. This is a vacation spot. Swimmers drown. Boaters capsize. Campers stumble over a cliff going to the bathroom at night. Things happen, sometimes to lone travelers who don’t have ties to the area. My family helped yours find dead people, who were then given to the lake, to the horseman.”
“They fed people to the nekkers, forcing them to rise from the deadasnekkers, trapped in their bodies—”
“No.”He shifts in frustration. “They might retain a bit of memory temporarily, which is why your aunt called to you. That fades quickly. Their souls pass on, and what’s left is the shell, which eventually rots.”
“So no one was murdered.”
He sighs. “I can’t say never, Sam. All I know is that by some point, we were using people who were already dead. It’s one of the reasons my family went into law enforcement. We could find those who died in accidents, and sometimes, we could get them to the Payne property before anyone knew. Is that a cruelty to their families? Of course. But it benefited everyone in the community.”