by H. P. Bayne
A couple of seconds passed before Dez responded. “Got them. Looks like a small place. Is that it for size, what you’ve sent here?”
“Yeah, not very big. One room, I’d say.”
“Probably a hunting cabin,” Dez said. “Those are a dime a dozen north of the city, once you get into lake country.”
“I know,” Sully said. “Nothing much is sticking out about the place.” He stepped toward one of the broken beams and used his flashlight to better expose it. “Huh.”
“What?”
Sully snapped another photo and sent it to Dez, then shut off his flashlight again. “I sent you another photo. What does it look like to you?”
“Just a sec … Okay, got it. It’s a beam.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh. It’s burned.”
Dez had noticed what Sully had. The thick wood beam was charred along its entire length, unquestionably subjected to intense flame. The cabin that had once stood here and been burned to the ground. What had happened was anyone’s guess. While Sully expected the Ice Man had the answers, getting them from him now wasn’t an option. But another obvious question crossed his mind.
What had drawn Greg here in the first place?
Now wasn’t the time to ask. Curious as Sully was, Greg was still the target of an investigation—a paying investigation at that. Asking him what he’d been doing here, digging in the middle of a burned-out cabin, was out of the question.
For now, Sully sat in his SUV as it warmed up, wanting to be thawed before driving away. Despite the blasting heater, Sully’s teeth had yet to stop chattering or his hands shaking.
“I picked up Greg’s truck heading back toward the city,” Dez said. “You leaving right away?”
“Yeah,” Sully said, unable to hide the cold-caused tremor in his voice. “Just about to.”
“Good. Make sure you’re clear of the place with no hangers-on, then call Lachlan. He likes to be kept up to date.”
Sully knew it. It was a good idea, anyway, getting Lachlan’s input. He had resources Sully and Dez didn’t and a wealth of acquired knowledge about all sorts of things.
After hanging up with Dez, Sully found Lachlan’s number on his phone and tapped the button to dial, letting the call come through his vehicle’s Bluetooth system. As the phone rang, Sully pulled away, happy to put Dead Man’s Lake—and its spectral resident—in the rearview.
Lachlan picked up on the third ring. “Better be important, kid.”
Sully grimaced. The words had come through a little scratchy and Lachlan followed up with a heavy clearing of the throat. He’d been asleep, and this was a man who loved bedtime—not least of all because he’d taken the early shift with Greg.
“It is, I think,” Sully said.
“You think? You’d better do more than think. I pay you to do more than think.”
“And you’re getting your money’s worth. I tailed Greg to Dead Man’s Lake and followed his tracks some distance off a hiking trail to a burned-down cabin in the woods. Do you have any idea why he might have gone there?”
“Not offhand. Please tell me you didn’t ask him.”
“Of course not,” Sully said. “He didn’t even know I was there. I was well concealed.”
“Good.”
“Here’s the thing, though. A ghost was around the place. And not just any ghost. The Ice Man.”
“The Ice Man? You mean the legend?” The tone was incredulous. As much as Lachlan believed in what Sully could do, he was a skeptic by nature, a lesson drawn from many years in policing and private investigation. Hearing the Ice Man existed was probably akin to someone telling him they’d seen Bigfoot.
“More than a legend,” Sully said. “He’s real. And the fact I can see him reveals something else.”
“He was murdered,” Lachlan concluded. “So what are you suggesting? You think Greg’s responsible?”
“I didn’t say that, but what’s interesting is his behaviour while he was at the site. He was searching the place.”
“And this just happened now?”
“Yeah.”
“Searching after dark is a lot different than going in the day. Easier to search when it’s light but also easier to be seen. Suggests he was eager to avoid anyone knowing he was there.”
“What if he is the one who killed the Ice Man?”
“Hang on,” Lachlan cut in, tone all-business. “Don’t get carried away. Worst thing you can do in an investigation is start batting around a bunch of possible conclusions without evidence to back them. Did you get the impression the Ice Man had it in for Waterford? Or did the ghost show you something to make you lean toward Waterford as the killer?”
Sully cringed inwardly. “I didn’t actually try to communicate with the ghost.”
“Why not? It’s what you do, right? Besides thinking, this is the other skill I pay you for, after all.”
“I know, but Dez wasn’t here.”
“And you needed your big brother to hold your hand?”
With Lachlan in no position to see, Sully rolled his eyes. Note to self, he thought: avoid waking Lachlan in the future if at all possible. The guy was cranky as hell.
“I needed Dez here so he could ensure I didn’t end up dead,” Sully replied. He provided Lachlan with a rundown of his and Dez’s impromptu investigation so far, including the incident at the ice fishing shack.
Lachlan listened quietly, so quietly Sully worried he’d fallen asleep in the middle of it.
“Lachlan?” Sully said after a pause. “You with me?”
“I’m with you. Okay, you’re forgiven. How soon can you get back there to talk to the ghost, see what he can reveal to you?”
This was what Sully was afraid of. “Honestly, I’m kind of hoping to avoid it altogether, if possible. I’m a little freaked out about what happened earlier. He was strong. I mean, physically strong. Dez barely managed to pull me away from him.”
“So don’t go onto the lake. Go back to the cabin and see if he’ll communicate with you there. Nothing a ghost tells you will be admissible in court, obviously, but at least it would push us in the right direction, investigatively speaking.”
“We’ve got another avenue we were talking about exploring first,” Sully said. “Greg’s whole meeting-with-the-reporter thing I told you about? Dez thought maybe I could try to find out why she met with him.”
“Any reporter worth her salt isn’t going to share those details with you.”
“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.” Sully couldn’t believe he was arguing the point, one he was far from on board with. The fact he was less stressed about flirting with an attractive reporter for info than he was dealing with a violent spirit told him something, he supposed.
Lachlan sighed. “You really don’t want to see this ghost again, do you?”
“I will if I have to, but I’d rather exhaust the other possibilities first.”
“Fine. Go romance the reporter. But don’t expect miracles.”
“One thing I’ve learned in my life, Lachlan,” Sully said. “Miracles are the last thing I’d ever expect.”
12
With Lachlan again signed on for the morning shift with Greg, Dez slept in, enjoying the warmth beneath the duvet.
Eva had gone to work and Kayleigh to school, leaving Dez to return to bed for a nap. Pax had hopped up next to him and lay there now, back pressed up against Dez’s side as he snored softly.
Dez rolled over and draped an arm over him as he settled into another comfortable position. He pulled the duvet up over his bare shoulder, sealing in the warmth. Barely a minute passed before sleep began to steal back in.
His phone rang.
He groaned and reached over Pax to retrieve the handset from its charger on the nightstand.
“Yeah?”
“Wake you?” came Bulldog’s voice.
“Sort of. What’s up? Find anything?”
“Nope. Sorry. I’ve been asking around. No one I’ve talked to recollects
anyone matching that description disappearing. Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Like I said, faces have changed out here. Those who are left from back then don’t have much left upstairs, if you catch my drift. Best I can do in this instance.”
“Got it. Thanks for trying, Bulldog.”
They disconnected, and Dez returned the phone to the nightstand. He tucked himself back beneath the covers. A few minutes, by his estimation, passed. He focused on relaxing his muscles bit by bit, coaxing his body to sink deeper and deeper into the mattress.
Sleep was close.
The doorbell rang.
Dez’s eyes popped open as Pax leapt off the bed, barking down the stairs toward the front door. Heaving a sigh, Dez dragged himself to sitting and rolled out of bed. Locating his jeans and T-shirt at the end of the bed, he tugged them on, then padded into the hall barefoot.
At the front door, Dez pulled Pax to him as he answered. Adam stood on the other side, expression sheepish.
“Sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I?”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Dez said. True, but just. “What’s up?”
“Weather’s warming up today, and it appears it’s going to stay that way. Guess ice fishing season’s done this year. I want to pull my shack off the lake, but …”
He trailed off, the pause at the end of the unfinished statement pregnant with meaning. Adam didn’t want to go back alone, and Dez understood completely.
“If you need a hand, I can go get dressed for it and meet you at the truck. Only, do you mind if my brother comes with? He can be over here in twenty minutes or so, as long as the traffic’s okay.”
“Your brother’s the guy who sees ghosts, right?” Adam smiled. “Not being nosy. I looked it up. The court case.”
Enough said. Sully had been forced to out himself as a psychic during their uncle’s murder trial.
“No problem,” Dez said. “It’s out there. Fact is, if the Ice Man is around when we’re dealing with your shack, I’d want to know about it. In my experience, ghosts don’t always choose to show themselves to the living. With people like Sully, it’s harder for them to hide.”
“The more company the better,” Adam said. “Thanks. I’ll go hook up my truck.”
Once Adam stepped off the front step, Dez closed the door and went to call Sully. Unsurprisingly, he was asleep.
“What?” he grumbled as he picked up.
“Up for a drive to Dead Man’s Lake?”
“No. Why?”
Dez smirked. “You’ve always been pissy first thing, you know that?”
“Dez—”
“Okay, okay. Adam needs to move his shack off the lake, and he wants some company. Can’t say I blame the guy. Thing is, I’d appreciate having you along, just in case. If the Ice Man’s a threat to others, I’d rather someone sees him coming.”
Sully sighed. “I didn’t really want to go back there.”
“I know. But it’s—”
“But I will,” Sully cut in. “I’m a good brother like that.”
Dez grinned. “Yeah, you are. Can you come now?”
“Give me half an hour. I want to have something to eat before I leave.”
“I’ll make us some breakfast sandwiches for the road. You like my breakfast sandwiches.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t like you.”
Dez laughed and Sully hung up.
In all honesty, Dez was no happier going out there than Sully was—and not just because of the ghost thing. He’d been forced to sit outside Greg’s house until past midnight, waiting until he’d turned off his lights and gone to bed. It had still been Sully’s shift, but he’d sounded so chilled on the phone, Dez didn’t have the heart to ask him to take over the watch. Instead, he’d directed Sully home and into a hot shower before finishing the watch himself.
Which meant Dez was beat, not having turned in until close to one in the morning.
The weather was already sunny and warm, so Dez skipped the sweater and opted for a long-sleeved T-shirt. He wasn’t sure how much pushing and pulling it would take to load up the shack, but he’d rather be a little cooler than too hot.
That done, he went back downstairs, made sure Pax still had food in his dish, then fried up some eggs for the sandwiches. By the time breakfast was made—two sandwiches each—Sully had pulled up.
“Thanks,” Dez said as he let Sully in. “I appreciate it.”
“You’d better. Where’s the food?”
“Made. Let’s scarf it down before we go. We’ve got a few minutes.”
Once they’d eaten, Dez led them over to Adam’s. He’d already attached the trailer, and the half-ton was waiting on the street, warming up. Adam emerged from the house without Dez needing to go and knock.
“You’re Sullivan,” Adam said, offering a hand. “I’m Adam. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too. And call me Sully. Most people do.”
Adam nodded and grinned. “I appreciate the extra set of hands. Hopefully, we can be off the lake really fast.”
Dez agreed and expected Sully felt the same way.
Since yesterday, the snow had further receded, exposing larger portions of the ice on the lake to the sun. In the late morning light, it was blinding, and Dez put on his sunglasses to block what he could.
As the three of them made their way toward the shack, Dez nudged Sully with an elbow and raised his brows, passing along an unspoken question. Anything?
Sully shook his head. The kind of response Dez liked when it came to ghosts. He didn’t pass the reply on to Adam. They’d avoided the topic all the way out, sticking to news stories, sports teams and fishing tales. If Adam wasn’t inclined to bring up the topic of the Ice Man, Dez was happy to oblige.
Now Adam stepped close to Sully. “Do you see anything?” he hissed.
Sully offered a smile and another head shake. “No. Not right now.”
Dez didn’t ask the obvious follow-up—whether Sully felt anything. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss. He’d let them know if he sensed a risk. Unless that happened, Dez was happy just to get Adam safely loaded up and out of here.
Several other people were doing the same this morning, and Dez suspected various businesses had received calls from their employees today, requesting sick days or vacation time. One was already on its way along the shore toward the docks and the ramp there. Once the group of them were off, this side of the lake would be empty of human life once again. Sometime next month, the staff would ready the place for summer use.
Until then, it would rest silently. Of course, if you tossed in a restless spirit and a man digging through a burned-out cabin, life at the otherwise-abandoned lake got a whole lot more interesting. Not in a good way.
With the trailer backed up to the shack, Dez helped Adam flip down and lower the ramp.
“Give me a minute to pull a few loose things out of the shack,” Adam said. His hand on the door, he halted and peered back at Dez and Sully. “The cloth. Did you—?”
“We took it,” Sully said. “Don’t worry.”
Adam gave a relieved smile and stepped inside the shack, door clapping shut behind him.
Sully turned to Dez and leaned toward him. “Might go quicker if we helped, but I’d rather not go back in there.”
“I’d rather you didn’t go back in there either.” Dez scanned the lake, then the shore, seeking out something he knew he’d never be able to see. Somewhere around here, the ghost might be hovering. Maybe watching them.
He shuddered and cursed his own imagination.
Adam emerged a few times, arms laden with fishing supplies, his ice auger and various other things. Though Dez offered to help at one point, Adam waved him off, stating it was easier for him to sort through his things than tell someone else what to do. Finally, everything stored away, Adam rolled down the tarp over his truck box and snapped it into place, then slammed the tailgate.
“Got everything,” he said. “You guys mind helping me push the shack onto the trailer?” He back
ed the truck into position, right at the front of the door.
With Adam on one side and Sully on the other to guide the shack into position, Dez took up the rear to push. The shack was heavier than it appeared, but Dez supposed it had to be to stay standing out here when the winds blew across the open lake.
They’d gone less than three feet onto the ramp when the hole in the ice was exposed to view. The surface had caked over, though it was nowhere near thick enough to block memories of what had happened here recently. Dez hadn’t seen what Sully had, but his mind created an image of the frozen, dead face at the bottom of the hole.
“You okay?” Sully asked.
Dez’s gaze had dropped to the spot, in part to ensure he didn’t step in it. Now his eyes snapped up to find Sully shifting his attention between the shack and Dez.
“Just thinking about yesterday,” Dez admitted.
Sully offered him a smile. “I don’t feel him around the shack right now, okay? Relax.”
“Yeah, but the fact is, he’s probably down there somewhere, below our feet. Creeps me out, man.”
“Hey,” Adam protested. “You guys are creeping me out.”
“Sorry,” Dez said and did his best to put it out of his mind.
A few more good shoves and they managed to maneuver the shack onto the trailer. Adam removed a tow strap from the truck box and returned to the shack. As he secured it, Dez turned to Sully.
And found him staring at the fishing hole.
Dez grabbed his arm. “What do you see?” he hissed.
Sully didn’t answer immediately, leaving Dez to clasp his arm a little tighter. “Sully.”
His eyes finally broke from the hole to meet Dez’s gaze. “He’s here.”
Dez tugged Sully in closer, like a psychic security blanket. “Shit, where?”
Sully gave a low, dry laugh. “Where do you think? Only I don’t see all of him. Just an arm. He’s reaching through, trying to claw his way out.”
Dez shivered and took a couple of steps back, towing Sully with him. “Bloody hell.”
“There’s something else,” Sully said. “Something different about him. When I saw him yesterday, he appeared solid, the way I usually see ghosts. Today, he’s kind of see-through.”