by H. P. Bayne
Bulldog’s jowls dropped. “Don’t give me that crap. I was fine with my life. It was a dump, but it was my dump. I don’t recognize this new me. Don’t even know if I like him much, but I’m working on it. So what brings you by?”
Dez took the hint and went with the subject change. “Sully and I caught a case involving the Ice Man. Neighbour of mine had a bit of a run-in with him, and Sully’s hoping to get him crossed over sooner rather than later. He tried to drag Sully under, so I’m eager to be rid of the bastard too.”
Bulldog smirked. “The bastard being the Ice Man and not Sully, I gather.”
Dez rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah. Thing is, we’ve done some digging, and best we can figure, no one reported this guy missing. First documented case of a sighting is back in the nineteen eighties, and there’s nothing much beyond a basic description. Sully saw his face and went hunting through missing persons cases. Nothing showed.”
“How far back do the files go? Maybe they’re not old enough.”
Dez shook his head. “The police chiefs’ site contains all open missing persons files in our area, as well as others, and they date back decades. I think there’s one from the fifties in there, if I’m recalling right. Anyway, it got me thinking, if this guy wasn’t listed on the site, maybe he was never reported missing, which might mean—”
“He was from the street,” Bulldog summed up. “Yeah, I’m following you. You got a description?”
“My neighbour’s about six-one, six-two, and he estimates the ghost he saw was his height or a couple of inches shorter at most. He was covered in ice, wearing jeans and a red-and-black checked jacket.”
“Like a lumberjack coat?”
“Yeah, exactly. Sully thinks he’s a bit older, in his fifties maybe.”
“Careful how you talk about his age,” Bulldog muttered.
Dez smirked. “Note I said a bit older, not old. Hard to say his hair colour as everything’s covered in ice, but it stood up kind of in spikes and he had bushy brows and full facial hair—and a lot of it. Sound like anyone you knew?”
Bulldog gave a dry laugh. “Copper, that sounds like damn near everyone I know. Hell, half the customers who come into the store fit that description. If your brother was any sort of sketch artist, it would help.”
“Sully’s art skills leave a little something to be desired,” Dez said. “Listen, I know it’s a long shot, but I was hoping maybe you either remembered someone going missing or could check around about it.”
“I was a kid back then, my friend. I don’t remember much outside of my own life at that time, and most of the people old enough to remember are long gone by now. There are one or two people I can think who might remember, long as I can find them and they’re still alive. Other thing to consider is how your ice-covered pal got up there.”
Dez scratched at the stubble covering his jaw. “I thought about that. Given he was clearly the victim of a homicide, it’s possible someone either drowned him in the lake or dumped him there afterward. I’m going to guess someone took him up there because it was quiet.”
“Sure, maybe. Seems a long way to go to deal with someone, though. Hell, there are plenty of quiet places right in the city to take someone out. Happens all the time. Far as body disposal, the river’s been a pretty handy spot for some folks, unless you’re mob. In their case, there are probably plenty of local buildings standing on top of burial pits.”
Dez pinched at the bridge of his nose, warding off a building headache. So far, Bulldog had provided little besides more questions—and he thought they’d had plenty enough questions as it was. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. But sometimes killers carry out the crimes in places where they feel comfortable. If the victim was a street person, it’s doubtful he got himself up to Dead Man’s Lake all on his own for a little ice fishing or snowshoeing, so it’s more likely the killer was familiar with it then.”
“It’s a theory,” Bulldog said. “Tell you what. Leave it with me. I’ll go check around a little, see what I can turn up. Go home and relax. You look like you need a nap.”
“I could come with you if you want.”
“I don’t want. People I’m thinking of asking don’t like outsiders, and they won’t trust a big white boy like you turning up at their door.”
Dez chuckled. “Okay, understood. Thanks for your help. Can I give you a lift somewhere?”
Bulldog snorted. “I’ve got money for the bus, and my own two feet. Don’t need a lift. Scram.”
Dez scrammed.
9
It was closing in on nine o’clock when movement in Greg’s driveway had Sully sitting up straight in his seat.
He’d gone back to his own SUV when Dez left, and he’d had to twice relocate since, ensuring he kept a vehicle in front of him so he wouldn’t stick out as much each time he had to turn over the engine to warm it and himself up. He’d kept it to a minimum and had been forced to crack a window besides to keep the windows from fogging. As evening turned to night, the temperature had dropped, and all Sully wanted now was to go home, crawl under a quilt and hold a mug of hot tea in his hands.
Instead, he was here, sitting forward and pressing up against the steering wheel as he tried to better see what Greg was up to.
Getting into his truck. That’s what he was up to.
Waiting, Sully watched as the target backed out of his driveway, pulled onto the street and steered in the direction Sully was parked.
He slumped lower in the seat, but Greg made a left turn at the intersection ahead, never close enough to make out the fact he was being watched.
After starting the SUV, Sully whipped out of his spot, shutting off his headlights for the moment as he eased up to the end of the block. He spotted the taillights of Greg’s half-ton a distance ahead and followed, waiting until Greg had made another turn before flipping on his own headlights.
Greg’s most recent turn had taken him onto a larger artery, allowing Sully the opportunity to use other vehicles to blend in. Tailing another vehicle at night wasn’t ideal. Less traffic meant an increased chance of being made, and it was also easier to get confused by taillights ahead. Get too many of the same type of vehicle, and it got a lot harder to make sure you had your eyes on the right one. Without daylight to help distinguish colour and markings, Sully was left to rely on overhead streetlights to give him what he needed. Fine for now on a lower-speed, largely residential roadway. Not so good if he made his way onto a busy main thoroughfare.
Keeping his fingers figuratively crossed, Sully stayed a distance back and hoped the two vehicles between them would remain where they were and keep pace.
Greg wound his way through the city’s west side, passing his favourite fast-food restaurant as he continued farther east. Sully first thought Greg was heading back downtown, until he cut a left, putting himself onto the road that would shortly feed onto the freeway. Sully’s guess as to destination proved correct as Greg took the ramp leading him north, over the Kimotan River and into the northernmost parts of the city.
Sully stayed on his tail, dropping back a little more as the freeway’s width spread out the cars still using it. He followed as Greg crossed the wide, dark stretch of the river below. He skipped the next exits which would have taken him back onto city streets, holding to the freeway as it continued on. It wound east until it dropped down, blending with the highway heading out of town.
Sully had been debating alerting Dez or Lachlan; now, he decided he didn’t have much option. He tapped on the console display to bring up his phone’s recent calls list. There, he spotted Dez’s cellphone number near the top and tapped on it.
The phone rang twice before Dez answered. “What’s up?”
“I’m tailing Greg, and he’s leaving town.”
“Going where?”
“No idea. He’s headed east on the Thirty-Nine, that’s all I know.”
Given the rocky landscape of the immediate area, everything east of the city this side of the river had to be access
ed via Highway Thirty Nine. No way to tell Greg’s final destination from here.
“Okay,” Dez said. “I’m on my way. Stay on him but hold back.”
“Yeah, I know that much, Dez. I don’t necessarily need you here. I just wanted to let you know where I’m headed.”
Sounds of movement suggested Dez was coming anyway. “Yeah, I hear you, but it’s going to be pretty obvious if he spots you behind him now and then again later when he’s returning to the city. It’s best if you carry on through once he turns, then let me tail him back in.”
The explanation made sense. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to drag you out.”
“That’s the job. Call me if he turns off.”
They hung up, leaving Sully to continue in silence. For another twenty minutes, they drove, Sully becoming increasingly worried about being spotted as the traffic dwindled around them. He reminded himself the highway was a busy one, that it wouldn’t be at all out of the ordinary to have someone driving behind you for quite a distance. Sully himself had a couple of vehicles behind him, after all.
The situation changed with Greg’s course. Sully’s fingers tightened around the wheel as his target signalled a left turn onto a gravel road.
And not just any gravel road.
Sully passed by, ensuring Greg’s taillights were indeed shrinking into the distance before pulling over and dialling Dez.
“What’s happening?” Dez asked.
“Greg turned off.”
“Okay. Where, exactly?”
“The road to Dead Man’s Lake.”
10
The area around the lake was large, with several possible routes to take from the main gravel road. Losing Greg would be easy if Sully didn’t stay on him.
Keeping Dez on speaker through his SUV’s Bluetooth system, Sully shut off his headlights and cut a U-turn on the highway. With only moonlight to guide him, he located the road and turned onto it.
Greg’s taillights glowed red in the distance as Sully stepped on the gas to catch up. Various roads branched off this one up ahead, leading to camping areas, the marina and two separate beaches. Granted, little of that was open in the winter, but it still meant too many possible routes to take, too many chances to lose Greg and miss what he was up to.
Following tire tracks wouldn’t be easy either with no recent snowfall. What was on the ground now had frozen up with the night’s colder temperatures. Sully would have to stay close.
His eyes having adjusted to the darkness, he slowed for a pair of deer he spotted crossing the road ahead. After that, it was an easy enough drive to stay on Greg’s truck.
Greg passed two turns for separate campgrounds, then the road to the marina. Going by memory, Sully guessed he had only two other possible routes to take—left to the main beach or right to the smaller beach and east-side docks and, farther on, the parking lot for the hiking trails near where Adam’s fishing shack was located.
Greg turned right. Sully passed along the direction of travel to Dez.
“You far enough back?” Dez asked.
Sully shook his head and held back the sigh. “Yeah, Dez. I’m far enough back. And my headlights are off.”
“Okay, okay. Just asking.”
Sully made the turn a short distance behind Greg. For the moment, he’d lost sight of him, the path winding away around the south side of the lake. He stepped harder on the gas, risking Dez’s annoying admonishment in order to pick up Greg’s tail.
He spotted him again, continuing along the roadway, driving slower now as if watching for something. Sully eased off the gas, allowing himself to drop back a little, now certain Greg wasn’t taking the turn toward the small beach and docks.
That settled it. This road had two other possible destinations. Farther up and to the right was a maintenance area. Nearer and to the left was the trail leading to the parking lot. Sully suspected Greg wasn’t here to perform winter campground maintenance.
Greg cut left.
“He’s turning into the parking lot by Adam’s fishing shack,” Sully told Dez.
“Okay.” A pause. Sully guessed Dez was holding back on more advice. “How do you want to handle it?”
Sully raised a brow, smiling as he backed up toward the beach and docks access road. “You all right?”
“Why?”
“It must hurt, not telling me what to do.”
“Shut up.”
Sully chuckled as he reversed onto the trail. “I’m parking up a bit on the beach access road. I’ve got my vehicle parked where no one should see it if they’re driving past on the main road. It’s fairly bright out. I’m thinking of hiking over to the parking lot and seeing if I can spot Greg.”
Silence.
Sully smirked. “Go ahead and say it. It’s killing you.”
“Stay back and stay hidden. Don’t let him see you.”
“There’s the Dez I know. You realize I’m fully capable of kicking his ass if it comes to a fight, right?”
“I’m not talking about that. I just don’t want you blowing our cover.”
“Right.”
“And I want you to stay the hell off the lake. You got that?”
Sully was perfectly willing to concede. “All over that part. I’ll keep you on speaker in my pocket so you know what’s up. I’ll try to update you if I’m able to talk without alerting Greg.”
Sully shut off the SUV and stepped out, dropping the phone into his pocket as he eased the door shut with the other hand. He waited to ensure the interior light faded out, pausing another few seconds for his eyes to readjust to the dark. Though he had a flashlight app on his phone, he didn’t want to fall back on it unless absolutely necessary. A light bobbing through the trees would definitely alert Greg he wasn’t alone out here.
Sully followed the trail back to the main road, then turned and jogged the short distance toward the parking area. As he neared, he slowed to a walk, stepping low, planting his feet to minimize sound. Moving stealthily in the winter was difficult if not impossible, each step coming down with a light crunch through hardened snow or a creak of his boot soles against packed ice. Doing what he could with a less-than-ideal situation, he moved slowly and methodically, eyes shifting between the path ahead and the one underfoot.
Finally, he came to the parking lot. Greg’s truck was there, easily visible, moonlight glinting off the metal surface as it sat on the far side of the lot. Sully stopped where he was a moment, watching and listening. No sounds came to him, nor was there any visible sign of Greg inside the truck, which was shut off.
Sully pulled out his phone and decided to take it off speaker. No point sneaking around if Dez’s voice suddenly blasted from the handset. That done, he held it close to his mouth, allowing him to speak quietly.
“Greg’s parked in the lot. The truck’s off, and there’s no sign of him.”
“You hear anything?”
“Nope. I’m going to go take a closer look.”
“Watch yourself.”
Sully slipped the phone back into his pocket and eased himself toward the truck. The tailgate end was nearer to him, hopefully allowing him to sneak up on it without being as easily seen if it turned out Greg was, in fact, still inside.
He wasn’t. From this distance, it was obvious, moonlight playing through the windshield as it was.
Unfortunately, the parking lot was too packed down to easily make out footprints, leaving Sully to once again scan the area for Greg.
He didn’t say the words aloud but they formed in his head like an internal plea.
Don’t be down at the lake. Please, don’t be down at the lake.
He stepped from the truck, scrutinizing the immediate area. It was parked more or less exactly between two walking paths—the one to the lake and one leading off to a hiking trail. Greg could have gone down either.
Sully eased out a breath through pursed lips. If he wanted to know what Greg was doing here, he’d have to follow. Sully wasn’t using a flashlight, but there was no re
ason Greg wouldn’t be. As long as Sully could spot the beam early enough, he could get himself off the path and conceal himself behind a tree whenever Greg opted to return to the vehicle.
That was the plan, anyway.
Two paths. The question was, which one?
Much as he hated it, the one to the lake was shorter and simpler. Sully told himself he didn’t need to go right onto the lake, only far enough to see if he could spot Greg. Surely once he made it through these trees, spotting a man holding a flashlight would be easy enough. And had Greg entered one of the fishing shacks, a light inside would be obvious through the windows.
Decided now, Sully took the path to the left and wound his way down to the lake.
Trees either side partially obscured the moon in places, casting long shadows across the ground. Sully stepped slower and more carefully here, the darkness sufficient to hide a variety of objects to trip over. Stealth would go right out the window if he caught his foot and fell hard on his face.
At last, the lake opened out before him, the vast expanse of it. He cast a glance around, spotting the ice fishing shacks ahead, Adam’s closest. From here, in the darkness, they appeared as little more than dark blobs in the near distance, although a glint of light showed against what he suspected was the window of one. It appeared to him to be the reflection of the moon rather than a more-obvious flashlight beam. He successfully tested his theory by taking a few steps to the side and back, watching as the light moved with him.
No sign of Greg in or around the shacks
Sully cast his eye over the lake next, holding his breath as he contemplated the possibility of what he’d find there. With the earlier experience very much present at the front of Sully’s mind, the thought of seeing the Ice Man unnerved him, sent a chill through him and put a knot in his stomach.
But a visual sweep of the lake revealed no sign of the spectre. Sully took in the shacks, the snow and footprint-covered surface nearer the shore, and the sections farther out, moonlight playing dully off the sections of ice from which wind had swept back the snow. Beyond that, far into the distance, the moon glanced spectacularly off small patches of open water, and Sully was reminded of spring’s rapid approach. Within days, if the weather held, even those fishers nearest the shore would need to think about moving their shacks off or risk losing them to the drink.