The Demon Trappers: Foretold Read Online Free PDF

sticks, tied with green yarn, in the shape of a man.
    When Beck saw it, his jaw tightened.
    ‘What is that?’ Riley asked. ‘Is it like some sort of warning?’
    ‘No, it’s someone tryin’ to protect the truck.’ He carefully removed the stick man, and once he unlocked the doors he hung it from the rearview mirror.
    ‘That’s kinda weird, you know?’ Riley said.
    ‘Not if yer used to it. There’s a couple of wise women in town and they’ve takin’ a likin’ to me. They probably figure someone will trash the truck if they get a
chance, so they’re letting them know that’s not a good idea.’
    ‘So it’s not all Baptists down here,’ Riley replied.
    ‘No, not at all. The swamp has its own kind of magic and people have learned how to use it.’
    They retraced their steps. In time, Beck paused in front of the door to a diner, put on his game face and then opened it to allow Riley to enter first.
    The restaurant looked like it was right out of an old movie. Notices were stuck on the wall near the door – someone had a car for sale, another had free kittens to a good home. She and
Beck had just missed Sandhill Crane Awareness Day. The floor was aged black-and-white checked linoleum. A long table took up the wall to the left, covered by a blue vinyl tablecloth and loaded with
old guys with newspapers and half-empty cups of coffee. Their average age seemed to be about seventy.
    High-backed booths lined the walls and five tables formed a straight line down the middle of the room as lazy ceiling fans gently stirred the air above them. Along the back wall were shelves
with row after row of mugs. Some had been personalized.
    The moment the door shut behind them, heads turned and conversations stilled, every eye on them. When one of the old guys elbowed another and whispered something, Beck ignored him and selected
the booth closest to the front window and the door. Riley slid into the other side.
    A waitress wandered up to them, forty, maybe older, with large breasts that really demanded a better bra. Her make-up was overdone and her black skirt ended at just below the knee, followed by
an expanse of tanned legs, pink socks and red tennis shoes.
    ‘I heard you were back,’ the woman said, her eyes totally on Beck. Then they moved to Riley. ‘I heard you weren’t alone.’
    ‘Karen. How ya doin’?’ he asked politely.
    ‘Not bad. You?’
    A shrug. He didn’t bother to flip open the menu, probably because he wouldn’t be able to read it. ‘I’d like a burger and a double order of fries. Oh, and some black
coffee, please.’
    Riley had to speed-read the offerings. Who know what the food would be like in a place like this? She opted for the safest choice.
    ‘A burger, some cottage cheese and a glass of un-sweet iced tea.’
    The woman gave her a look like she’d ordered a plate of worms. ‘Un-sweet, huh. Where you come from?’
    ‘Atlanta.’
    ‘Figures. All Yankees up there.’ The waitress took off towards the back of the diner and the swinging door that led to the kitchen.
    Riley leaned over the table and lowered her voice. ‘We’ve been here, what, twenty minutes and everyone already knows it? What is it with these people?’
    ‘Anythin’ interestin’ happens and it gets spread real fast.’
    ‘We’re not interesting, Beck.’
    ‘Ya’d be wrong there, especially since yer with me.’
    His speech was already changing, reverting back to his roots, the drawl more noticeable now.
    ‘Does all this
interest
have something to do with your history down here?’
    He nodded. She beckoned for him to give it up. He shook his head.
    ‘OK, then I’ll fill in the pieces.’ She lowered her voice so no one else would hear her. ‘You were a total horndog, right? If it was female, you were all over
it.’
    To her surprise a lopsided grin appeared on Beck’s face. ‘Some might say I was just bein’ . . . social.’
    ‘So how many did you date?’
    ‘Only a couple. The rest were