by N. M. Brown
“Mitch.”
“- Whatever.” Echo let out an annoyed sigh but kept going. “I would have Johnny hide in places equal to Mitch’s eye line. If Mitch can see his brother, well it’s his brother; he going be excited and want to talk to him. I bet he’s been looking out the school window every day in the morning not because he’s waiting to see his brother, but because he can. Today was just a happy happenstance. The janitor was late, the teacher was distracted, and Mitch left, going straight to his brother.”
McQueen was speechless, Armstrong too. “Well, it could make sense…” McQueen put out there hesitantly. However, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Addicted to Dixie, Johnny couldn’t leave his kidnappers for long, but he could bring his brother into the fold. Mitch was too young to truly understand and would trust his brother entirely.
“It’s ridiculous.” Armstrong snapped and everyone bounced back to reality. He stood with his hands on his hips and was already shaking his head in disgust. The crowd around the school had picked up and the officers were finding harder and harder to control the swarming masses. “Brother’s stealing brothers? Johnny Bell being willing to kidnap his family; willing not to go back home. You making up fairy tales to fit the jigsaw pieces. You will not drag down my investigation with your stupid, unproven theories.”
Echo just gave Armstrong a long, steady look up and down before passing him a pitiful smile. “Unproven is just another word for risky and you have a stick so far up your ass, you wouldn’t know a creative, out-the-box thought if it smacked you on the nose.”
McQueen physically bit his tongue as blood rushed to Armstrong face and his entire body went ridged. But Echo, is her typical fashion, just gave a half assed smile as if she’d paid him a compliment.
Eyes burning with the promise of vengeance, Armstrong turned and with great effort, McQueen kept a straight face. “Keep your hack of a consultant away from my investigation.” He ordered and with that, left, leaving the three of them behind.
McQueen almost felt relieved, calmer in the knowledge Armstrong’s ego had been slightly bruised, but that was until Hale cleared his throat. “Ms. Headly.” He began and McQueen's stomach soured. A quick whip at Armstrong he could take, but if Echo fucked of Hale, he’d be feeling it for a week to come. “In the future, your theroies need to be more concise. Reasonings behind the ‘why’ and the ‘how’ are always speculative. Use whatever evidence you can.”
Stood side by side, McQueen had never noticed how short Echo was compared with the six-foot, Detective. McQueen didn’t know why he focused on that fact, but he felt if he remembered it, he might be able to forget whatever smart-ass comment Echo made to bury him in more shit.
“Sure thing.” And she even smiled.
McQueen’s jaw dropped and he knew his Nana would tell him off; saying he’d catch all the flies like that. He waited for her to continue, say something else, but Echo didn’t, and it was a while before he realised Hale was now looking at him. Snapping his jaw closed, McQueen swallowed whatever flies he’d caught.
“McQueen…” Hale began, but whatever he might have begun to say, he stopped. “Just, make sure you use her knowledge with a pitch of salt.” He ordered. “I will stay here with Armstrong and his team, keep my ear to the ground. If I can get you any more useful information from the Bell’s I’ll pass it on.”
“Thank you,” McQueen nodded and felt a tickle on the back of his neck; one of trepidation. “What will I be doing?” He dared ask.
“Looking of course.” Hale answered and for the first time ever, McQueen thought he could see a sliver of humour in the big guys eyes. “You said Ms. Headly’s idea could be tangible, so go. Find me evidence of Johnny Bell.”
McQueen swallowed. “We already have officers canvassing. Surly they know what they’re doing?” Two extra people looking wouldn’t make a difference.
“Yes, they do.” Hale agreed, but his hands were sliding into his pockets. “But you will have something officers out there don’t.” Hale gestured with a nod, “They don’t have her.” Echo beamed like a kid in class being praised by the teacher. Her dark bruises and fragile body couldn’t hide her over exaggerated excitement.
Hale walked away, and McQueen didn't know what to do next. He didn’t know if Hale believed Echo could help, or whether he just wanted to keep her out of the way and thus, kept him on babysitting duty. With a heavy sigh, he rub his brow and looked to the broken doll at his side.
“All right then.” He began, “If I-… if you were a drugged child who’d kidnapped your brother, where would you go?” He asked and shivered at the gleam that brightened in Echo’s eyes.
“Well Detective McQueen,” Echo answered, her polite mannerisms and overdramatised respect putting him on edge. “I go to a world where children never have to grow up.”
XXIII
McQueen seemed to trip over his own feet trying to catch up with Echo as she strode away. She liked that.
“Where are you taking us Echo? We’re not going off on some adventure, we need a plan. We need back up.” McQueen hollered behind her, but he kept pace, pushing through the gathering crowd in front of the school. With the social media presence nowadays, one cry for help for a well-meaning parent drew in a crowd. “Echo. I know you said you’d help with this case but that doesn’t mean I’ll follow you blind.” His voice was harsh, causing Echo to stop in her tracks.
Whirling to face him, the world around them stilled. The trees stopped swaying in the wind and the chatter of ambient noise drowned into a hushed gurgle. “You think I’m not committed, don’t you?”
McQueen huffed a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “What am I meant to think Echo? The last time you helped, I was led straight into a trap than ended up with you shot and the killer on the loose. This time, I want to know what and where you are leading me.”
“We.” Echo bit back. “’We’ were led into a trap and if I remember correctly, it was me who was the prize, not you.” Echo felt the threads of anger curl in her gut but she squashed it down. “Those you call your fellow officers are spread thin.” Echo started talking, clearly moving the conversation on. “But they’ll be looking for suspicious white vans or creepy looking teens. We need to be smarter. We’re looking for small holes in walls and down dark alleyways; anywhere a child could crawl though.” And she began to move. After only a few seconds, McQueen followed, his footsteps heavy behind hers.
Softly, on the cold autumn wind, Echo faintly heard McQueen mutter to no one, and caught him signing the holy cross over his chest. She heard his words and knew them off by heart herself; one of the few passages in the Bible she and Adin had been encouraged to recite.
“A proud look, a lying tongue and hands that shed innocent blood.” The family moto. It made her body sing and electrified her determination. She couldn’t let them down.
◆◆◆
There was no trail to follow. Echo hadn’t expected to find a string of breadcrumbs or anything, but it was frustrating. At the age of eight she and Adin had easily been snatched up by Shade’s lackies, but now she was older, and she was going to have to get creative.
“We need to find some bait.” She mused out loud as they circled the same block of houses for the second time.
“I told you, I am not using a child as bait.” McQueen ground out as he furiously tap away at his phone. Hale had been giving him updates every fifteen minutes and for the sounds of it, no one was getting any closer to knowing where Mitch Bell had gone. “We should go back. Regroup.” He huffed again, trying to bring up his digital map.
“Why? They don’t know anything, we don’t know anything, it’s not like suddenly being in closer proximity we’ll get a brand-new idea.” Echo scoffed and lead the way has she started to walk down a different street.
Despite the warm air, the sun at its peak, Echo couldn’t shake the chill in her bones. It was as if she contained a void, and with every passing hour it grew with unwanted questions that sliced throu
gh her thoughts.
Would Dixie be enough? Archer and Gala had wanted it so long ago, did they want it now? Did they need it? And McQueen begged the right question, if it wasn’t enough, what was? Would they kill her as she handed over the recipe…? Her time and services might not be enough, but if she got Dixie, she could prove she could get more. Her quest to tarnish McQueen’s soul and force him to reside in the depth of Hell forever was more of a long-term project, and one they weren’t taking seriously enough anyway. Walking in a blind daze, Echo wonder what else she might be able to give, but all her mind could produce was the sound of tiny voices laughing at her in pity.
Poor, poor Echo, so childish and pathetic, she couldn’t even please her own family. Maybe McQueen was right, maybe she shouldn’t try and just let them kill her instead. That would make them happy after all.
As the laugher in her mind continued, Echo found her need for a solution grow, but as she tried to find it, the laugher grew louder, until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Alright!” She snapped, causing McQueen to startle next to her. “Enough with the laughing.” Air rushed down to her lungs and Echo hadn’t even realised she’d been holding her breath. Her head cleared and the laugher died until it was only a soft background chime, though it still bugged her that it was there.
“The laughing?” McQueen had stopped too, his fingers hovering over his phone as he looked at her in surprise. “I know you see children as Gremlins Echo, but even I can’t stop a Birthday party mid-swing.”
Echo opened her mouth to ask the Detective what he was babbling on about, but as she turned, she looked across the street to a park, and in that park was a Birthday party. Children ran in all directions while adult supervised from the side lines. Brightly coloured balloons battered each other in the wind and bunting strung up between the trees flapped wildly. Another child screamed and Echo’s eyes flickered to find the scours and slowly, an idea came to mind.
“You didn’t flinch.” She said, lifting McQueen’s nose from his phone.
“What?”
“You didn’t flinch. When that child screamed, you didn’t flinch.” Looking across the chatting adults, she marked each one and their body language. “None of them did.”
“What are you getting at Echo?” McQueen asked, and for the first time in an hour, he slipped his phone back into his pocket.
Walking across the road, Echo stepped over onto the green and observed the party in a closer light. Children were spread far and thin, their chatter and laugher echoing around the empty park. Large trees grew at the back edge and a jungle gym was to the right, covered in screaming sugar filled monsters. “None of the adults are paying attention.” Echo watched and McQueen nodded along.
“Not uncommon,” He explained, “There are a lot of children and this is a safe neighbourhood. The children are old enough not to leave with strangers, so they are relatively safe. The adults don’t have to be on watch every minute of the day.”
“So, they’re only half paying attention. Enough to keep their kids safe, but not enough to notice if other children who weren’t invited to the party played here for a time.” And like lightening, McQueen clicked on.
“You think Johnny and Mitch came here, and blended in with the party?” Suddenly his head was on a swivel and every child was under scrutiny. “They could have come this way, but why hide so close? The school is just on the other side of that housing estate.”
“Why run?” Echo asked in return. “Two kids on their own is suspicious. Two kids amongst thirty at a party...?” Echo knew she was right; she could feel it and McQueen must have had the same gut feeling because he didn’t knock the theory aside.
“But where are they now?” He asked and he too, like Echo, looked through the faces for who they might recognise. Sadly, they had no such luck.
“We should split up. You take one side of clueless adults. I’ll take the other. See if anyone’s seen anything.” Echo felt eyes on her and when she looked to McQueen, he wore a funny look of confusion. “What?” She snapped.
“Nothing, nothing.” McQueen answered, his hand already reaching for his breast pocket and his police badge. “It’s just-… that’s what I would have suggested. You could be a Detective, you know, if you weren’t an immoral devil.”
Echo just rolled her eyes and without a word, stomped off towards her first victim. If she was going to find something to appease her family on top of the Dixie, she was going to have to work double time to get it.
◆◆◆
Echo felt it again and she shifted on her feet, while the fifth single Dad hit on her. She’s already ones balls, and another had almost lost an eye, but Echo couldn’t concentrate on this next interrogate. He was trying to flirt with his self-help book charm and offering her manly-advise. When asking questions, she'd been straight and direct at first; pelting each adult with non-stop questions and accusation, making each one doubt themselves as a parent by the end. But she wasn't getting any answers that way. Each suspect was then more focused on their own failure as a parent, neglecting their own kid, than answering anything.
This meant Echo had to play nice and she was getting tired of it. That was until the sensation of being watched crept up the back of her neck again. It was a distraction that hadn’t stopped for the past ten minutes.
Many a parent had clicked onto the fact a Detective was here asking questions and many of them had wandered over to be nosy and to get in on the gossip. Many of the Dad’s had chosen to stay with Echo however.
Clenching her jaw, she felt the muscles under her bruise twitch in pain across her face. Nevertheless, she kept her forced smile on. “How kind of you to offer, but I don’t think I’ll have time for a personal boxing lesson?”
“Please, I insist. It looks like you need it.” The middle ages, balding Dad pushed. Echo was ready with a reply, but she felt it again; the zap up her spine that said to be careful.
Glancing over her shoulder, she scanned the area again. McQueen was in deep conversation with a fitness-freak mum, her ass popping out so far, she looked like she was about to topple over. Beyond him, there were a few other parents glancing this way and that, but none paid her any particular attention. Turning back, she was vaguely aware the Dad was talking about jabs and blocking methods, as if she didn’t know how to break his arm in three places. She was just about to volunteer to show him with a demonstration, when the feeling almost knocked her off her feet.
Spinning, Echo took in every face, searching for the culprit. Her heart was racing, and she knew this time she wasn’t going to ignore the feeling.
“And I -… wait, hay? I can give you my number. I promise I'm a good trainer-,” The Dad called after her, but Echo didn’t even look back. Walking across the green, the children rushed around her feet, but Echo paid them no heed. She kept moving, her head on a swivel until her eyes spotted a dark figure in the trees and her heart stopped.
Tall and sleek, Echo could just make out the silhouette of a woman, her long woollen coat pull tightly around her frame and a large scarf wrapped around her neck. Messy, knotted hair had gathered on top of her head and Echo could see her wild, angry gaze trained directly on her. As if on cue, as Echo spotted her, she began to move. With strong, confident strides, her woollen coat flapped open and Echo’s stomached hollowed. She could have said it was the lump in the woman’s pocket that gave her away, or the angle of her arm and shoulder, but for Echo, she knew this woman’s murderous intent by the look in her eyes.
Dull and calm. The registration of what she was about to do was long gone and the cold-hearted desire to kill had taken over. “Queenie!” Echo screamed, her voice carrying across the clearing with deafening focus. “Gun!”
No one moved. Not even the children stopped playing as Echo’s words died on the wind. Why would they, no one believed her…
Of course, that was until the first shot went off.
Everyone splintered off, panicked. Parents gasped if confusion, then horror as they s
aw the gun pointed right at their children. Echo was already running; her instincts kicking in and she pelted for the nearest cover.