The morning crawled by, the air in the lab oppressive and cloying. Clare kept her head down. Her colleagues filtered in over time, offering brief, reticent greetings. Clare wished they were friends, she really did. Yet colleagues they remained. With what was to come, that was probably for the best. The less they were associated with her, the better it would be for them when everything came crashing down. Inside, she was terrified. She kept an almost constant watch on the door, her stomach contracting every time somebody walked past. It was inevitable. Harley would find her again. He would walk through that doorway soon.
“Can I have a word?” Clare jumped. Helen had approached in the middle of Clare's internal deliberation.
“Of course, boss.” Clare followed Helen into her office, closing the door behind her. Here we go again then.
Instead of the seat and the frank appraisal, Helen turned and reached up to her face, holding her chin with one hand. She turned her head one way and then the other. “You aren't well.”
Without aggression, Clare removed Helen's hands and turned away. “I'm fine.”
“Clare, I've been a forensic analyst for the last two decades. I can spot things, you know. You might be kidding yourself into believing you're fine, but you aren't. Drinking all this water, the constant weariness, and the way you are just wasting away to nothing. Have you considered submitting a blood test, specifically one for sugar levels?”
“No,” Clare lied. “And I'm fine. I've just been working myself too hard.”
Helen looked sceptical. “I've approved your leave. Goodness knows you need it. May I suggest that whatever you think you're going to do during your time off is done with discretion? The constant clashes with the captain are beginning to have a negative effect on the department. I'll back you Clare, but only so far. You need to find that spark. You need to remember who you are.”
Helen was only looking out for the department. Clare understood this. Everybody in authority in the precinct was some type of political animal. It still smarted to be scolded by a woman she respected.
“Who am I?”
“You're a fantastic scientist. Logical, driven, intelligent. This you…” Helen pointed at her. “This is not you. This is not the postgrad so full of passion and verve I brought into the team despite obvious objections to my decision.” Helen stressed the word 'obvious' with raised eyebrows. “You go find yourself, Clare. Your erratic behavior doesn't just reflect on you. Remember that. It reflects on the department and on my ability to make sound decisions. Come back to us as you once were, not this shell with a devil on her shoulder.”
“I'll clear my head. I'll find the answers.”
“See that you do. Good luck.”
The tone of dismissal was clear. Clare left the office without another word, finding Sunny and Alison outside.
“You didn't just quit,” Sunny accused her.
Clare smiled, the expression not reaching her eyes. “No. I'm taking some leave. I think if I didn't, Helen would force it on me.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Alison's face was a mask of concern.
“Yes. Watch out for any abnormal test results involving synthetic drugs. I'll be back in a few days.” Clare reached under her desk for her bag and left the lab to the sound of Alison asking in a confused voice, “Abnormal? We deal in abnormal.”
Keep walking, Clare. Calm. Poised. Show no weakness. Clare made it out of the precinct step by faltering step, looking at nobody and in turn hoping that her demeanor rendered her invisible amid the Tuesday bustle. It was fortuitous that she saw neither Harley nor Tina. She just wanted to disappear. No fuss.
She made it to the Impala, standing like a bastion from the sixties in the parking lot. The creaking door and the ancient leather were welcome reminders of her life outside of this building. For the moment, nothing else mattered. Once safely inside, she sighed, and placing her hands on the steering wheel, Clare leaned forward until her head touched her forearms.
“First step: get out of here alive,” she said to the car. “Next step: see where you can take me.”
The engine roared into life at the second attempt, and with as much care as she had taken in the precinct, Clare edged the Impala out onto the road. Her plan was simple. Get a gun and some clothes from home then drive off into the wilderness. Exactly how Tina had put it. She checked the burner. No calls. No immediate repercussions from last night's adventure.
She headed north up Main Street under a crystal blue sky with the window down. It was one of those days full of subtle, pleasant warmth, the sun not as high as it had been a few months back. The gorgeous day was at odds with Clare's mood, yet she softened as she warmed.
As she drove north out of the city, she mulled over Helen's words. “Go find myself? Erratic behaviour? It's just not me.” Yet her mind worked the words every way it could, seeking out the logic behind them. Helen believed in her. No. She had faith. That wasn't just belief. That was acceptance in a greater good that provided no proof of its existence. A good that meant Clare needed answers without the confines of a lab. Is that not what she was striving for? Mentally she was fine and yet Clare worried for her health. Her arms were thinner. She'd never had fat in abundance, yet it seemed her clothes were slipping more and more on her increasingly skeletal frame. Her eyes were sunken in the rear view mirror. Pretty soon she stopped looking at the traffic behind altogether.
When a police siren began to wail behind her, Clare jumped. The streets had become very familiar. Worcester had become Holden. The One Stop faced off against Walgreens a couple of hundred metres ahead of the space she pulled into.
Shaken, Clare took a deep breath as a patrolman stalked the driver's side of the Impala. She had an illegal gun and no registration. If he asked to look in her bag she was screwed. She wound down her window like any good law-abiding citizen.
“Good afternoon miss. May I have your license and registration, please.”
The officer stayed upright. As Clare flipped down the sun visor to grab her documentation, she realized that she recognized the voice. “Well thanks, Terrick,” she muttered as she handed over her license. “They bust you down to patrolman now?”
Terrick went through the motions of examining her license, giving it a cursory glance. “You could have chosen a better place to go haywire, Clare. Everybody that knows you will be watchin'. I have to at least make it look like I'm upholdin' the law.”
“What do you mean, 'go haywire'? I was just driving home.”
“Drivin' is not how I would describe your recent actions. You drifted into the opposite lane, failin' to signal. Seemed to me you were on autopilot.”
Clare did feel weary, the euphoria from her impending journey having disappeared entirely. Is that why she found herself suddenly so close to home? “Well this is just fine. Ruin my life twice in two days why don't you?”
“I think you'd better come with me, Clare,” Terrick suggested. “Bring your things.”
In a moment of desperation, Clare wished she had her gun. She was not sure on what side of the fence Terrick lay. It was probably a bad idea given how he had dealt with Jon Finely. Clare reminded herself the sheriff wasn't the enemy and she didn't know everything that had happened in that office. In the end she did as bidden. A few people had gathered in the distance, onlookers desperate for a bit of action. Among them Clare saw the three elderly women smirking. She kept her head high and her face dignified as she locked her Chevvy and at Terrick's direction climbed into the back of his patrol car. He then took the driver's seat and pulled back out into the traffic.
“Shouldn't you have frisked and cuffed me?” Clare said after they left the crowds behind, acid dripping from her voice.
“Why? I never placed you under arrest. You never caused a scene.”
“Then what are we doing here, Terrick?”
“I wanted to clear the air. I suspect you are under the misapprehension that I somehow informed on you yesterday.”
“You saying you didn't?”
Terrick nodded. “That's exactly what I'm sayin', girl. The Chief of Worcester P.D. called me up himself Sunday night and asked if I could spare some time to come on down and talk to a Captain Harley.”
“You sure it was the chief?” Clare was intrigued enough to give Terrick the benefit of the doubt.
“Man, I have no idea. Could have been the god-damned janitor for all I know. But I take on faith because if it wasn't and I refused to co-operate, then I get the Holden electorate hollerin' at me for obstructing a Federal murder investigation.”
“What did Harley say?”
Terrick chuckled. “He doesn't like you much; him and that subordinate of his, a greasy guy with ill-fittin' clothes. Looks like a clown dressed him.”
“Mike Caruso,” Clare provided.
“Yeah well they spent an hour grillin' me about what we were doing there. How we were messin' with a Federal investigation and all the usual bull. Caruso was desperate to implicate you on somethin', anythin'. I reckon I got a good fifteen to twenty years on you, girl. I've been round the yard a few times. I know how this game's played. I gave them nothin'. Truth is all I spoke. Fact of the matter is we touched pretty much nothin' inside the Morris house. They just concentrated on the house so I had no reason to lie. Everythin' you found was outside, more or less. I think they'd have charged you with trespass had you been there first but they knew damned well they set up a crime scene in my town without even tellin' me. In truth, I think they were embarrassed at being caught out.”
“And what did he say about the rooms?”
Terrick paused while he turned left onto Holden Road, the graveyard on their right. He motored on down past Clare's turning away from the town, the police station and all inhabited parts of the area.
“Where are we going?” Clare said, suspicious.
“Relax. No need for you to panic just yet. I have somethin' I want to show you. Now the one thing I did take from that so-called interview is the fact that your Captain Harley was under pressure from above.”
“The chief?”
“I don't think so. I've met the old man. He's in it for the fun nowadays. No, this is comin' from a different direction; A separate agency perhaps.”
“Like those in my kitchen? The spooks I never saw.”
“It could be the case.”
The time had come for admission. “I have a name, Terrick. Logan. He filed the report on my parents. Harley was a foil, there to distract me when I showed up at the crime scene. Detective Logan did the work, and was transferred soon after.”
“Where?”
“Bernardston.”
Terrick considered this for a moment, keeping his eyes on the road. “That don't add up.”
“Exactly. I suspect he may have not been entirely enamoured of what was going on. These murders; the response is too fast, as if somebody is waiting for them to happen. As if…”
“… they already knew about it,” Terrick finished. “I get the impression that someone is either helpless to act, or they are consciously allowin' these murders to take place and hidin' the evidence.”
“Not hiding it well enough this time. Logan is the key. I track him down, and maybe find all the answers. Like why he was carted off so soon with no obvious reason or word from him since.”
“You a girl on a mission,” Terrick declared. “But you can't go drivin' round the state in your condition. Look at you: You'll be the death of someone if not yourself.”
“Well I have to try. The next time I go back to the precinct I'll most likely be arrested. See, I…”
“Don't tell me, Clare. The less I know, the better it will go for you. If I know nothin', then they can't force it outta me.”
“But if I don't make it through this, someone needs to know the truth.”
Terrick remained silent for a moment. “You'll make it through this. You won't be drivin'. I'll take care of that.”
By now Terrick had taken them far out from Holden. While the route through Paxton was a viable way to get to Worcester, Clare had seldom taken this road out of town. The woodland was dense and lush, the well-protected oak and birch that made up this part of Massachusetts not yet succumbing to the onset of less clement weather. Terrick pulled to a stop on the verge of a side road that wound up a gradual incline and disappeared to the left. “Okay. Out you get.”
Clare climbed out when Terrick opened the door. It was still pleasant, mild and somewhat muggy. The air was strong with tree sap and the earthy funk of moldy, decaying leaves. The utter lack of a breeze meant that there was no sound other than their footsteps.
“Well, this is nice,” Clare noted. “We came out here to hunt chipmunks?”
Terrick looked about, seeking something. “What do you see here, Clare?”
Unsure if this was a trick question, Clare answered, “Trees, dirt. I see a road with a sign bearing the words 'Entering Paxton' on them in the distance. Down there to the right is a lake. I think it's called Asnebumskit Pond. I guess whoever named it must have been drunk at the time. The next town along, Paxton; If I get complete silence I bet I can hear the traffic.”
“But what does it mean?”
“I don't know, Terrick.” Clare's temper was frayed and she was becoming tired of riddles. “That I have a long walk home?”
“To you this is the next town along, or the pond, wilderness. To me it's much more profound.”
Suddenly it all made sense to Clare. “We're standing on the line of demarcation. Your jurisdiction ends here.”
“Exactly. My powers extend out of Holden, north just past Trout Brook, just southeast of here, east to Greendale and west into… well pretty much into the middle of nowhere. My jurisdiction as Chief of Police in Holden has its limits. Within these boundaries, I hold sway. Here I can fend them off for a while, protect you. But beyond this invisible border I have no power. The same cannot be said for Worcester P.D. and Harley. Nor can it be said for the State police and certainly not the Feds. One thing I learned yesterday, one immutable God-honest fact. You crap in their pond, mess with their business and you certainly feel the blowback. You start rippin' up crime scenes, no matter what's been done, and those political borders disappear, my protection ends.”
“Where does that leave us? The answers are out there. The killer is still at large, I think under the roof of the very institution that has sworn to deal with such monsters. Terrick, I saw the bodies. I saw what had been done to those kids.”
Terrick's face was incredulous. “You sure you saw it right? You've been erratic of late.”
Clare nodded. “There were four bodies. All kids, or teenagers at most. There's more. I've seen the report on my parents.”
Terrick raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Girl, I said I don't need to know.”
“You just offered to drive me to Bernardston. It's best you know fully what you're getting into. I might be labelled a Federal fugitive at any moment. Do you, in your position, want to be caught up in this?”
“The way I see it, you kidnapped me off duty and forced me to drive you around at gunpoint, seeing as you might be labelled a Federal fugitive at any moment.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “But I think you might be safe. There's lots of odd things goin' on in the state. Strange people keep appearin' as if from nowhere. It's got the cops jittery. You're one of us. You know how we all hate mysterious circumstance. I get the impression they're gonna be real busy for a few days.”
“I don't follow.”
“There's all manner of oddities occurrin', in this state and further afield. Just watch a bit of news when you get home, girl. You may find out that a body-sucking demon is the least of your troubles. I'll be takin' you back now. Get some rest and pack some things. For God's sake, have a meal. I've got to tell the station I'm takin' a bit of leave and settle things with my wife.”
Clare grinned. “I'm sure she'll take to you running off into the middle of nowhere with a younger woman ever so well.”
“She will,” Terrick affi
rmed as they climbed back into the car, the front passenger seat far less criminal for Clare. “There're bigger issues here. You can't solve 'em on your own, not in your state. Candace appreciates chivalry.”
“Even if the act makes you an outlaw from your own force?”
“You let me worry about that. Let's get you home.”
It took no time for Terrick to drive her home. Clare realized that Terrick hadn't overestimated the boundaries of his domain. The borders of Holden really weren't that great. Letting herself in through the kitchen door, Clare considered the woodland that bordered her property. Was this person out there? Did they know the terrain just as well as she was beginning to suspect they did? The Morris house wasn't all that far away.
The tunnel loomed in the distance, giving Clare chills. How times had changed. She wished it were not so close, not there at all. She needed a means of defense.
Her father, in one of his more lucid moments, had shown her his skills with a handgun. As a child she had been banned from a closet in the one spare room upstairs. Most of the time he kept the room locked. Out of habit she had rarely gone in since their deaths but now was not the time for caution. Clare needed protection.
Unlocking the spare room she headed straight for the closet. Under a pile of old coats was a cardboard box. She lifted it out, placing it atop a chest of drawers and removed the lid. Inside lay her father's old Smith and Wesson revolver alongside a box of bullets. She lifted the gun out, cold steel with a wooden handle. The box was only missing a couple of bullets. Maybe Pop hadn't used the gun much. She opened the gun and filled the chambers, placing the box of bullets alongside the gun in her bag.
Underneath the gun lay a packet of documents, folded and placed in an unsealed envelope. Clare pulled the packet from the box and sat on the bed across the room, flicking a sidelight on. The envelope contained photos, a signed contract, land deeds and a letter. She picked up the letter.
“Ched, I realize this won't mean much to you, not now, but I'm sorry. When I was first introduced to you and Trish, I never expected that I would end up with feelings for her. It was unexpected, and unfortunate that our meeting led to such circumstances as happened. I don't expect your forgiveness but try to see it in your heart to not blame your wife. The affair was all my doing. I got to know you both too well. I sought it out and she ended it. That you're left with a reminder of my time in Holden is an inescapable fact. I regret our agreement cannot come to fruition. You'd have been a good family. I must make amends as much as I can. I have enclosed the land deeds to a plot in a quiet street, up against the hills.
The Eyes Have No Soul Page 11