SAGE: AN ADAM STONE MYSTERY (THE ADAM STONE MYSTERIES Book 1)

by D. L. EVANS

  “Alison is having a hard time Adam.” Annie said, “She’s managing most of the business and funeral details by herself. She’s snapping at everyone and I know she’s not sleeping well. Winnie is the only one she’ll let help. We’re going to need a vacation when the funeral is over but she won’t even talk about it now. And I’m tired of telling her where I’m going all the time. I actually lied to her about wanting to be alone here just to get away. Maybe Alison and I need a break from each other too. I’ve only added to the problems instead of helping.” she sighed. “Sorry, guess I’m rambling. I’m so glad you’re here,” she said quietly, “but I’m afraid for you. People have a way of dying around me. Haven’t you heard?” She took a deep shuttering breath.

  “Yes. Mack’s told me about... everything.”

  “They’re dead Adam.” Tears made shiny paths down her cheeks as she looked out over the room, focussed on memories. “So much death. Three lovely human beings. Decent people with their lives ahead of them. What could have happened?”

  “I don’t know, Annie. But let’s start from what we do know. Tell me about your run in with Jack Hennessy. Did you know him before he threatened you?”

  Her face and eyes hardened for a split second, and I suddenly was afraid that he had done more than threaten her. “No. I’d never seen him before” she said. “I kept telling the police. That night at the wake, I was upset remember.. confused. Crowds are always stressful but that night, was... oh, I don’t know... intense, I guess. It’s hard to explain,” she said, “…so intense I was sick. But I did feel better when I left, thanks to you.” She smiled. “When I got out of Winnie’s car, I did sense something but nothing that I couldn’t handle, which was really stupid, I guess. He was a very volatile man. All I could think about was getting rid of him, going into my studio, locking out the world and going to sleep.” I was sure there was more and was trying to phrase the question when she looked over at the elevator. “Mack’s arrived. I’ll just let him in.” I didn’t hear a thing. I was positive that he hadn’t buzzed but when I looked at the monitor screen against the wall, I saw his face looking back at me. A few seconds later, he walked in and Annie greeted him and took his jacket. He nodded to me and looked around in a casual friendly manner taking in the impressive apartment, giving polite compliments. He even made the same comment that I did about the outside of the warehouse giving the wrong impression. She had probably heard it from everyone who had ever visited. Mack joined me and sat on the matching chair facing the couch, looking like he belonged. Annie passed him a glass of wine and he smiled a thank you. She joined me back on the couch. I didn’t quite know where to begin but Annie solved the problem.

  “We were just discussing Jack Hennessy’s visit, Detective Mackenzie. I was explaining to Adam that I had never laid eyes on the man before that night.”

  He sipped the wine. “Chateau La Fete, ‘89, I believe.” Annie was impressed but didn’t comment. “A good year” he continued... “Did your uncle know Roger Smythe or Jack Hennessy?”

  “Not that I know of,” she answered. “He’s been out of things ‘socially’ for several years. There wouldn’t have been any reason for their paths to cross that I know of. But then, he did have some ‘unusual’ acquaintances, you could say. Alison and I knew he had another life outside the gallery, but frankly, we didn’t care. The gallery is really all we have in common. It’s been that way for a long time. You saw what kind of man he is... or was.”

  “Did he know Morgan?” Mack asked.

  “No. I’m sure of that,” she answered firmly. “He would have said something when I told him about the investigation. He knew the general details from Winnie... Mr. Lucas, who keeps... kept him up to date about the gallery, but he wasn’t interested in the details. He was just peripherally interested as a potential scandal for the gallery. It’s really all Uncle Rick ever cared about.”

  “Ah yes. The gallery.” Mack paused dramatically. “It must be doing well. I see something about it in the papers almost every day. I guess financially, any publicity is good publicity?” I held my breath. Was he actually baiting her? Where was his facile Irish charm?

  The air seemed to crackle with her silent stare. No one moved or took a breath. I guess his comment was not worthy of a response. Sensing a deadlock Mack broke the tension by looking around the room. Her eyes followed him as he moved casually to the shelves of chemicals. I wondered if he would succumb to the urge to line things up in right angles to the edges. “Detective Martchenko showed me the tape,” he continued seriously. I didn’t know what he meant but he explained as he went along. “The tape from the security camera outside the front door had a strange little glitch just when a black figure, almost a shadow unless you were looking, passed through into the inner foyer. It seems that Mr. Hennessy’s expertise broke down after that as he found he was unable to get into the elevator no matter what he did. Poor fellow. Then the video from the hallway shows that he waited in the shadows for you.”

  “That’s right. He seemed to know something about the security of the place but not everything, apparently,” she stated flatly.

  I watched as Mack stared at Annie and she held his gaze. What was Mack after? He tried to appear relaxed, resting his elbows on his knees as he continued. “Then the tape shows you entering and him grabbing you from behind. Do you remember exactly what he said?”

  “He was very angry. Frustrated. He didn’t expect to find that he would be stopped from entering my studio. He definitely wanted to surprise me in there, not the ground floor warehouse foyer.”

  “A warehouse usually filled with valuable art, which he ignores and waits for you. What did he say?” He looked back over his shoulder at her defiantly but she shook him off and leaned back in the comfortable chair without expression. The way I saw it, Mack wanted information and Annie was to going to give him as little as possible. This was a battle of finesse.

  “Mr. Hennesey said I was in over my head,” Annie said giving him an irritated look. I watched her and remained quiet. “He said,” she continued, “that I should stay in my own backyard and mind my own business. He rambled a lot of things like that. He was so angry that he couldn’t articulate properly. I sensed some connection to Lauren and Roger Smythe but they were just scattered thoughts, not connected to his anger. Then when he could see that I wasn’t reacting to his aggression, he became even more furious. I think he would have liked to kill me then but he was on a short leash. Who’s leash, I don’t know. Since then I’ve read in the papers that he worked for Mr. Smythe but I don’t know if Mr. Hennessy was following his orders or someone else’s, that night. I just know that I was not supposed to die. He had me against the wall and a knife against my throat. The knife was a threat only. He was not going to use it.”

  “The bloody bastard.” I felt an uncontrollable rage. He must have outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Then I remembered how he died.

  Mack nodded absently, “What did you say to him, Annie. I mean exactly.” She refilled her glass and avoided looking at me. “The tape doesn’t show the confrontation in the lobby but we could see when he left, he appeared like he was in pain.”

  She stung him with a look. “Why are you really here, Mack?” She knew something. He reacted with complete stillness. They just stared at each other again. Christ, I was in the twilight zone.

  Mack repeated. “What did you say to him? And don’t bother with the garbage that you told them at the station. I want the truth.” I’m sure I stopped breathing. He was almost calling her a liar. I braced myself for the flash that would turn him into a toad.

  Annie hesitated, looked at me, and then back to Mack. “OK.” she answered. “You asked for it. Hennesey was in an incoherent rage, which blocked his mind for a while. I knew he was close to killing me, even though he wasn’t supposed to but he needed to release his hate. He wanted to rape me, tore my clothes. I went into a …dream state,” she said calmly. My heart was leaping around in my chest as I let out my ragged breath. “It ma
de me hyper-sensitive to his thoughts. I ...um... probed past his anger and saw or sensed, what made him hate women.” Her voice was a monotone and she showed no expression on her face. “It happens almost instantly when there’s danger around me. I made him remember his fear. His mother tied him to the bed and hurt him when he was a young boy. She stuck sharp objects into his rectum until he screamed. I saw many terrible things in his past Lieutenant, things he tried to forget but couldn’t because he never dealt with them; a mother that was mentally ill who tortured him until he was old enough to fight back; they created rage. It burned like a cool flame under his skin but violence took away the controls and filters that he had in place.”

  “Jesus. Did he kill the two missing women and behead Melissa Como?”

  “No.” She answered firmly. There was no question in her mind.

  Mack was hanging on her every word. I don’t think Annie ever looked more beautiful, her expression defiant, eyes dark with clairvoyance. “He killed his mother, but I didn’t say that out loud because it would have driven him over the edge. I said just enough to cause a major headache and generate enough fear to make him back away. That’s why you saw him grab his head like he was in pain. He was in the pain of forced memory surfacing as a headache.”

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Mack swallowed and took a deep breath. I realized I had stopped breathing an hour ago. “You read his mind. Dug into his memory and saw things he’d buried, things... even he was afraid of, and then caused a headache?” It was in his voice. Mack believed her. He shot me an electric glance. There was something unreadable in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before. Respect? Fear? Annie remained quiet. He seemed to digest this incredible information for a minute then continued. “The boys downtown thought you must have screamed or something, to cause him to react like that, running off. But I figured knew it was more than a scream. He was the type of shit-head that would have enjoyed it if you screamed or begged. But you frightened him. Jesus. It’s a wonder he didn’t drop dead of a heart attack right there.” Mack paced in front of her adjusting his silk tie. “Something happened at the Station too, didn’t it? Did you cause the electrical black out?”

  “No I didn’t, Mack. At least not consciously. And Alison is not capable of ... well any telekinetic power.”

  “OK.” Mack said sounding a little unconvinced. “Bring me up to speed. Tell me about this ‘dream state’,… and I mean everything” he demanded in his soft but frosty cop voice.

  Again she faced him with her eloquent silence.

  Mack was a coiled snake, breathing evenly and staring hard. I’ve seen dangerous men back down from him when he was in this mode but Annie didn’t even blink. “Are you sure you want to go this fast, Mack? I don’t always have to be in a dream-state to see things... things people would rather no one knows.” She fired her warning shot across his bow and a hint of a smile touched his lips. Without giving him time to answer, she continued, “Like your birth name, Detective Mackenzie, the one you changed legally when you first arrived in Toronto.”

  Mack stared back at her without re-action. But I saw him swallow.

  “What’s she talking about Mack,” I asked. “This is a trick right?” No expression from either of them. They just stared into each other’s eyes, like I no longer existed. I thought I knew all there was to know about him... my best friend. “Your real name isn’t Mack? What the hell is it?” I watched the blood leave his face. I’m sure he stopped breathing. Annie didn’t move. Was he going to let her say whatever he looked like he would rather die to keep buried? An hour passed. I’m sure it was about an hour. When she sighed and finally started to say something, he burst out with...”

  “OK, OK. I’m convinced. That’s something I wanted only my mother and eventually, my wife to know. I’d appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.” His voice was coated in frost but she was beyond what he was saying. They seemed to have reached some unspoken level of understanding.

  Game, set and match to Annie, I thought to myself. “First,” she said firmly, “you tell me why you wanted to question Uncle Rick.” Her eyes glistened but her voice was still flat and demanding. Mack pursed his lips and glanced over at me. I was not going to come to his rescue. Definitely not.

  “I just wanted information on your family,” he stated. ”Stuff that the papers don’t know. I wanted to see if you and or Alison tricked him or blackmailed him out of the family business.”

  “Jesus Mack,” I snapped, ”You didn’t tell me that. What does that have to do with anything anyway?”

  Annie was angry but not as much as I thought she might be. She glared at Mack and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Well, at least you’re astute enough to know that the truth is all that works with me,” she said into her wine glass. “Even if I don’t like it. What do you suspect Detective Mackenzie? You know that I didn’t kill my uncle or Mr. Hennessy. Why are you here? Why is my family history so important?”

  “I don’t know yet. But it is. Will you please tell me, tell us, about the dream state?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave her a patronizing look. I was amazed at his panache.

  “I’ve been completely open with you... detective Mackenzie and we both know that I could easily put legal obstacles between us that even you couldn’t get through, so let’s cut to the chase. There are two conditions before I continue. I want your word that whatever I say will not be written in any report.”

  “Agreed. And the second?”

  She turned to me. “That you don’t quote me in any way for your book, Adam. I can’t afford to draw attention to myself. And let’s dispense with the denial that you’re not working together. That’s it. Not that anyone would believe me but I know that my safety depends on privacy. Take it or leave here right now.” She looked back and forth between us. Poor Mack. Another woman who will only talk ‘off the record.’ He held my stare a little too long. His expression remained rigid but he knew she was right. There wasn’t any choice if he wanted her help and everything depended on her co-operation. I nodded.

  “OK. You got it,” he replied, “but when the music stops, I better not be the only one without a god damn chair.” He helped himself to a second glass of wine, an indication of the stress he was under.

  When he was sitting again Annie searched his eyes. He made some comment about how he would appreciate her not reading his mind, and she laughed. The tension between them was gone. It looked to me as though they had known each other for years. The formality of strangers had disappeared and they were bantering like old friends; old friends struggling with a serious problem.

  “You’re not the only one who’s worried, you know.” Annie was trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. “Alison and I are planning a premature funeral for the only immediate family that we had left. And Alison can’t even stop for a good cry and believe me she needs to. Who would murder a dying man?” She looked back and forth between us. “His life was down to weeks, maybe days. It doesn’t make sense. It hit me then that she could not read that Mack knew who killed her uncle. “For that matter,” she continued, “who would murder Morgan? And Mr. Hennessy... “She took an undignified gulp from her wine glass finishing it in one swallow. “Do you think I don’t know that you’re suspicious because I knew all these people? How do you think I feel having just found out why my previous lovers didn’t stay in touch with me? God. What’s happening?”

  “We’re going to find out.” I said, trying to keep the uncertainty out of my voice. “You were about to describe the dream state to Mack....”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  ADAM STONE:

  “Yes, alright. The dream-state. It’s like a trance,” Annie began. “Things slow down... Have you ever smoked pot?” Mack shook his head in the negative but she ignored the obviously incorrect answer. “Well, it’s something like that. I function on automatic and disconnect from my body. If I think inwardly, I can feel my teeth, my hair, my pulse, and the air in my lungs. If I think outwardly, I can see things th
at aren’t there; sometimes the past, sometimes the future. It also happens when I’m threatened. I can see other people’s fears, if I concentrate.” She looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes were sad. “Poor Uncle Richard.” Now that the numbing shock of her uncle’s death had worn off she was beginning to feel the grief. The last tie to her parents, her past, was gone.

  Mack took a deep breath. “How long have you been able to do this?” His voice was unnaturally gentle.

  “All my life,” she answered. “At first, as a small child, it was a reaction to stress. My parents helped me understand. My mother and grandmother had the same abilities, just not as strong, I think. Some of my cousins are sensitive too, but not... well... as developed as mine.”

  As she continued to expand on her experiences, I had the feeling that something would come to light if I could just ask the right questions, but I was out of my depth. Mack was struggling with her words too. I forced down blooming thoughts of mental illness, future material for a science fiction movie. She was an alien, fallen from the stars.