Wicked Charms

I was halfway through vacuuming the living room rug when there was a lot of commotion on my front stoop and someone kicked my door down. It wasn’t difficult to do, because the door was showing a couple hundred years of dry rot, and the lock was equally ancient.

Rutherford crept in around the mangled door. “Hello,” he called. “Anybody home?”

“Yes, I’m home! What the heck do you think you’re doing breaking my door down? That’s a historic door. You’ll be in big trouble with the Historical Commission.”

“I knocked but no one answered.”

“I was vacuuming. I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, yes, I can see that. I’ll have Mr. Ammon square it with the historical commission. Mr. Ammon is a big contributor.”

“I guess that would be okay,” I said, inching my way toward the kitchen, where I had a big carving knife.

“I must say I’m relieved to see you somehow escaped from the cave. That was a mistake on my part. I should have been more clear with my directions to Mr. Carter. I meant for him to safely see you to the top of the canyon. When we realized the error we returned, but you were already gone. Very clever of you to take matters into your own hands. As you know, Mr. Ammon has plans for you. He just loves your cupcakes. And you’ll play a very large role in our future.”

“So you came to apologize?”

“Yes, yes, of course. But there is one other issue. It’s the coin. We don’t seem to have the coin.”

“Devereaux had the coin.”

“Mr. Carter assures me that the coin wasn’t on Devereaux. Of course, Mr. Carter is no longer with us. He’s been…um, reassigned. But we feel confident that the coin was removed.”

“Not by me,” I said. “I don’t have the coin.”

“I totally believe you. Totally. But I’m sure you realize how important this coin is to our lord Mammon. We must have all essential elements to complete the awakening ceremony. And the coin seems to be one of those elements.”

“You realize this is all nuts, right?”

“Ha-ha, nuts. No, no, I assure you it’s not nuts. Mr. Ammon has fully researched this. He’s had a vision.”

“And you believe Mr. Ammon?”

“Of course. Totally.”

“And you believe in Mammon?”

“Ah, Mammon. Yes, he is…the prince.”

“Well, I’m sorry but the prince is going to have to wake up without the coin because I don’t have it.”

Rutherford was smiling and sweating. “That would be lovely. We would all like for that to happen, but it might not be possible. So you are going to have to bring the coin to us. You’re the only one who can recognize it. Mr. Ammon is very set on this. I know this is going to sound extreme, but you must keep in mind the importance of the ceremony. I’m afraid we will be forced to wreck havoc if you don’t bring us the coin. I admit that havoc is a very strong word, but Mr. Ammon has been quite specific about this.”

“Can you explain havoc?”

“My understanding is that it would involve torture and death. Possibly mutilation.” Rutherford took a photo out of his suit jacket and handed it to me. “As you can see, this is a picture of the elderly gentleman related to your boss. I believe he’s her grandfather.”

It was a picture of Gramps waving at the camera. Two armed men in suits were standing behind him. Their faces had been blotted out.

“He’s a character,” Rutherford said. “You never know what he’ll say. Very entertaining. I would feel terrible if we had to cut his ear off.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It is. I absolutely agree. But we must do what we must do. Responsibility is a heavy burden.” He clapped his hands together. “I guess that about sums it up. I should be leaving so you can get on with it.”

“How do I reach you?”

“I’ve sent contact information to your cellphone.”

I watched him leave and saw that there were several men in suits standing at attention by an SUV. Rutherford got in. His thugs followed.

I had a range of emotions wash over me. They were jumbled and hard to identify individually, but anger was clearly at the top of the list. I was angry that Rutherford would kidnap Gramps, and I was angry that I was involved. Diesel was wrong. I didn’t like the adventure. I liked dull and boring. I wanted my life to be pleasant. I wanted Gramps’s life to be pleasant. Hell, I wanted the world to be pleasant.

Sitting side by side with the anger was ice cold heart-grabbing fear, because I knew Rutherford and Ammon were dangerous and capable of just about anything. And I suspected that the stone was slowly turning them from merely dangerous into crazy psychopaths.

I took a look at my door and blew out a sigh. The jamb was splintered and there was a long crack running from the doorknob almost to the bottom of the door. I managed to get the door to stay closed, but I couldn’t lock it. As if it mattered. One good kick and the door was toast.