by Jonas Saul
Kirk sat with his elbows on the armrests of the chair. “Haven’t chatted in a year and a half until you wake up in that clinic in Rio. Only see you sporadically because you’re so fucking angry all the time. Doc says it’ll pass. I tell him, I don’t know. Jake’s actually a nice guy. So, here I am. Coming to visit my old partner, my best friend. And all I get is, What are you doing here?”
Jake entered the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. He drank it back, washing the rest of the blood from inside and outside his mouth, then set the empty glass down and returned to the living room.
“What happened to you?” Kirk asked.
“I was in a coma.”
“No, just now. Why run off like that through the trees? Then come back with a missing tooth. You fight someone?”
Jake studied Kirk’s face. He knew the man, loved the man like a brother. But he felt something different now. The new Jake didn’t dislike Kirk, just couldn’t figure a place for him in his new life. There wasn’t an easy explanation for it—it was just the way it was. Like a puzzle with defective pieces that didn’t fit.
“You don’t want to talk about it?” Kirk asked. He tilted his head to the side. “Did someone break in?”
Jake gasped and offered Kirk a dazed look.
“I’m a detective, Jake. I detect things. There’s broken glass on the side of the house. Inside, there are ransacked drawers, furniture moved out from the walls. You running into the woods, groceries left on the driveway. Have you forgotten how this shit is done?” Kirk got to his feet and approached Jake. “So, tell me. Did you catch them?”
Jake nodded.
“And beat them up? Teach them a lesson?”
Jake turned away and headed to the freezer. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“I need your help.”
“I already told you my answer. It stands.”
The freezer was packed with meat that hadn’t had the chance to freeze yet. Jake began taking it all out and placing it in the fridge. Everything would be eaten within the next day or two. There was no need to freeze it.
“Jake. Reconsider. Come back as a consultant.”
“I can’t. I’m on disability.”
“Your cane is over there behind the couch. You aren’t walking with a limp. You’re fine.”
Jake tossed a packet of T-bones on the counter and turned to Kirk.
“They want to reinstate me? Is that it?”
“No. Not yet. There’s tests, evaluations. You know how it is.”
“I don’t have long to live, Kirk.”
Kirk’s expression changed. A tentative smile crossed his face as if Jake was kidding. His smile built with anticipation of a punchline, then sank.
“What?” Kirk stammered. “Who told you that?”
“Dr. Sutton.”
“Why? You just woke up. You’re not going anywhere. You’re healing very fast. Shit man, I just saw you run through those trees like you were eighteen again.”
“Without tests, Sutton says there’s no way to tell how long I’ve got.”
Kirk shook his head. “Oh, shit man, you got it all wrong. See brother, you gotta listen to me now.” Kirk backed up and plopped down on the couch. “Sutton doesn’t know shit. You’re in better shape than I’ve ever seen you.” He steepled his hands. “Those men in that black SUV, though, the guys in business suits. We have to chat with them.”
“Men in business suits?”
“The first few months you were missing, someone was following me. I talked to Cindy, watched over her. They were following her, too.”
“Any leads?”
“None. But I think I know who they are. Luke’s people. Fortech Industries.”
Black SUV? Suits? Before he could stop himself, he dropped his mouth open in surprise. He had just seen two men in suits standing by an SUV. Men who had hired punk thugs to rob him of his laptop. If they were watching Kirk and Cindy, it was likely they were after him, too. Now that he was awake and researching them, looking up anything and everything he could learn about Fortech Industries, they were coming for him. It had to be Fortech’s men.
An idea occurred to Jake as he headed back into the kitchen.
“Hey, what’d I say?” Kirk yelled after him.
Jake opened the T-bone’s packaging, lifted the red meat and bit into it. Instantly, he felt his stomach yearn for more. He bit again, feeling no pain where his missing tooth used to be. It was incredible really, a miracle, but he didn’t waste any time thinking about why he didn’t have pain. To be grateful was enough.
“Holy shit, man. That’s certainly blue rare. Ain’t you gonna cook that shit?”
“I have an offer for you,” Jake said, his mouth full.
Kirk stepped back, watching Jake devour the T-bone.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m listening.”
“I’ll look at the Blood Eagle Killer case as you’ve requested—”
“B.E.K.” Kirk shrugged. “That’s what we’re calling him now.”
Jake nodded and tore off another piece of meat. “I’ll look at what you have and see if I can help—consult—on the case. In exchange, you help me.”
“With what?”
“The guys in the SUV.”
A slow smile built on Kirk’s lips as he crossed his arms, studying Jake’s face.
“You want me to help you find the guys responsible for Luke’s disappearance?” Kirk asked. “The ones watching all of us?”
Jake nodded, his mouth full. The meat tasted so much better raw. He wondered how come he hadn’t eaten it this way before. Barbecues were so overrated.
“They were here. Hired some punks to break in. Stole my laptop.”
Kirk frowned. “You saw the men just now? The SUV?”
Jake swallowed a thick piece. “On the highway. Maybe thirty minutes ago.”
“Which way were they headed?” Kirk asked as he retrieved his cell phone from his back pocket.
“Put that away,” Jake said. “They’re long gone now. But they’ll be back. Until then, help me learn everything I can about Fortech Industries.”
Kirk slipped his phone away, then slapped Jake on the shoulder. “You have a deal, my friend. Back in business. Partners.” He extended a hand to shake.
Jake grabbed it, pumped twice, then headed into the living room, what was left of the T-bone in his hand. He detected Kirk wiping the blood from the handshake off on a kitchen towel before following him.
“But we need to leave now,” Kirk said.
“Leave? Why?”
“The unsub will be striking again soon. It’s in the MO timeline to kill again. I want you to come to the Toronto office and review everything I’ve gathered on all the cases. We need fresh eyes on this. Maybe you’ll see something we’ve missed that ties the families together.”
Jake shook his head. “I remember this killer. He’s peripatetic without reason. No one knows where he’ll strike next. He could be a wanderer, a nomad for all we know. At least that’s what I remember about the cases around southern Ontario. It didn’t make sense to Joslin. It won’t make sense to you or me.”
“Still, I need you to come to Toronto with me. Get involved. Keep busy with it. You’ll be able to see things differently than me. And I can watch your back in Toronto. Those Fortech fuckers come, we’ll both be ready.”
“No.” Jake shook his head. “Forget about it.”
“What?” Kirk asked, eyes wide, hands out at his sides, open-palmed. “We just shook on it.”
“I’ll help. Forget about me coming to Toronto, though. Bring the stuff here. I’ll review it here.”
There was no way he was leaving his home with the men in the SUV close by. They would come for him and he wouldn’t need Kirk’s help when they did. But if they didn’t come, having a homicide detective on his side was the next best option.
Kirk seemed to consider his options a moment. “Okay. It’s the long weekend coming up.”
“What’s the holiday?”
“C
anada’s birthday, dickhead.”
Jake looked at him, unused to the humor.
“Sorry, but man this is killing me,” Kirk said. “You used to be so much fun.”
“I can be fun again.” Jake gnawed on the bone. “Give me time.”
“Fair enough. It’s Canada Day coming up. The long weekend. I’ll bring everything I’ve got on Saturday. We’ll spend the weekend here going over it. Cool?”
Jake nodded.
“Hey,” Kirk said. He wiped at his forehead. “I gotta ask, though. Why is it so fucking hot in here?”
“I like it that way.”
“Okay. I’ll bring beer. Like the old days.” Kirk headed for the door. “I’ll probably have to work in my skivvies if it’s going to be this hot in here.”
Jake needed more meat. And a nap.
Kirk stepped outside the screen door. “Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out.”
“Kirk. Wait.”
Kirk stuck his head back in.
“You parked up the road. Didn’t use my driveway.”
Kirk nodded. “Yeah. So? Didn’t know what to expect. How angry you’d be. You know. What the doc said and all. Thought I’d saunter up the driveway, holler your name.”
“You have a hole in the radiator. Smelled the antifreeze leaking from here. Fix it before you drive up from Toronto or it’ll overheat.”
Kirk frowned, then nodded and pulled back, letting the screen door close.
“You’re stranger than I remembered,” Kirk said.
“Thanks, dickhead,” Jake said.
As Kirk walked the length of his driveway, Jake headed into the kitchen for more meat.
Part Three
Canada Day
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kirk arrived earlier than Jake expected. He pulled into his driveway and parked beside Jake’s new Cobra before ten in the morning. The drive from Toronto was almost three hours, two and a half if Kirk had broken speed limits. With this being a Saturday morning—Canada Day—the traffic would’ve been the worst coming out of Toronto the previous night. On a Saturday morning, it would’ve still been pretty thick.
“When did you leave Toronto?” Jake asked as he stood on the top stair holding his screen door open, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
Kirk was standing by his open trunk. “Stayed in Orillia last night.” He lifted a box of files out of the trunk of his car, set it on the ground, and smiled up at Jake. “Didn’t want to deal with the traffic. Left the house Thursday afternoon, early.” He disappeared behind the trunk of his unmarked police car to heft more boxes. “You wanna help?”
“Sure,” Jake said. “After I finish my coffee.” He turned and retreated into the house.
“Gee. Thanks,” Kirk said behind him as the screen door slammed shut.
Ten minutes later, Kirk had five boxes piled by Jake’s front door. Jake helped him bring them inside where they set them by the dining room table. That would act as a desk. Each man could take either end, giving them lots of room to spread out.
“I have to thank you,” Kirk said when he set the last box on the floor by Jake’s chair.
“For what?”
“The radiator. It’s fixed. Had to fix it in Huntsville before heading home when I was up here last.” Kirk plunked down on a chair. “How did you know?”
Jake shrugged. “Smelled it. Haven’t you ever walked by a car and smelled leaking antifreeze?”
“Yeah, but how close did you get to my car to smell it?”
“Does it matter?”
Jake opened the box marked Boyd Family.
“It’s a box for each family. The Boyd Family in 2006, then Reilly, 2008, the Hapsteads in 2010, Lucas in 2013, and finally the Marcello clan, 2015.” Kirk hefted one more box. “This box contains miscellaneous material, sketches, witness accounts and so on. But it’s only half full.”
“What about autopsy reports? Cause of death?”
“In each family’s box. It’s all there.”
Jake opened the Boyd box and set the files in piles in front of him. He stopped moving and looked up at Kirk.
“What? You’re staring at me.”
“The tooth. How is that possible?”
“What tooth?” As soon as he asked the question, he understood what Kirk was talking about. The canine tooth he’d lost in the fight with the punks who broke into his house had grown back. It was whiter than the rest of his teeth and seemed a little stronger. It was also tapered with a small pointy tip.
“When I was here a few days ago, you were missing a tooth. Now it’s back. How is that possible?” he repeated. “Unless it’s a fake.”
“No fake.” Jake opened his mouth and tapped the tip of the tooth with his tongue. “I have no idea why it grew back so fast. Just did.”
“Have you told Sutton about it?”
“No. Not going to either.” Jake gave Kirk a stern look. “And neither are you.”
For the next five minutes, both of them worked in silence, Kirk wiping his brow as he perspired.
“It’s July, Jake,” Kirk said.
“I know.”
“Then why is the heat on?”
“Need it that way.”
“Why?”
Jake stopped rustling papers and met Kirk’s eyes. “We’re here to work. Let’s just do that.”
Kirk shook his head slowly. “We’ll work. We’ll figure things out and move forward, but first, you have to be honest with me.”
“About what?” Jake gave him a troubled expression as if this line of questioning irritated him.
“Level with me. What happened to you? How have you changed since the coma?”
“I had a reaction to the antivenin. Woke up eighteen months later and blasted through physio. Nothing to it.” He smiled. “You should try it sometime.”
“No one grows teeth like that,” Kirk said, ignoring Jake’s attempt at humor. “The doctor isn’t talking to me. You’re not talking to me—”
“What is it—”
“I want answers!” Kirk shouted over Jake’s interruption. “I’ve lost my partner, my best friend, and Cindy lost you, too.”
Jake considered Kirk, how he looked at the moment, his expression. He contemplated telling him everything. Then chose not to. If Jake wasn’t living proof of the changes, there was no way he’d believe his own account of what was happening to him.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to tell you because I don’t know anything. I’m here. I’m awake. I get cold easier than before. Something might have happened to my brain, my body, that makes things different, but I’m not entirely sure what. Just know that I’m the same on the inside. I’m still Jake.”
Kirk watched him a moment longer. “Okay. For now, that’s good enough.” He cleared his throat. “But in the future if something comes up, tell me first. Don’t talk to Sutton or anybody else. I can help. They can’t.”
Jake found that comment strange.
Kirk got up and headed for the door. “I said I would bring beer. I didn’t buy any.” He slipped on his shoes. “So I’m driving into town to pick some up.”
“I’ll come,” Jake said. “Just like old times.”
Kirk smiled. It was the first genuine smile he’d seen on Kirk’s face since before the coma.
“Good. I’ll meet you in the car.”
Kirk stepped outside and let the screen door slam behind him. In his familiar tone, Kirk sang a rhyme made up on the spot as he trudged to the car.
“Heading out with my friend Jake, to buy beer and maybe a steak, and I’m making up funky rhymes, just like the good old times.”
Jake put on his shoes and followed Kirk outside, locking the door behind him.
Every situation had a smell, a distinctive odor that told Jake what had happened recently, what was happening, and most importantly, what was going to happen.
As he walked to Kirk’s unmarked cruiser, all he could smell was the pine off the trees, the oil of the machine under the veh
icle’s hood, and the stupid Axe underarm deodorant Kirk always wore, thinking he was a ladies’ man.
Nothing else bothered Jake. No one sat watching his house. No scent of nervous sweat wafted to him. No breeze carried distinct odors of predators coming his way.
So he dropped in the passenger side, cranked the car’s heater, and rested his eyes on the way to Huntsville in search of alcohol.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Edwin Gavin rented a hotel room on the north side of Huntsville, near the highway. Easy access, good restaurants, with no need to be in town. He wasn’t staying the night to enjoy Huntsville. He had a purpose and that purpose was Megan Radcliffe.
Before checking out of the hotel, he performed one more routine check of his supplies, which eased his nerves. Nerves were evident at times, but mostly because of the anticipation of a new wife. Any extra anxiety he experienced this time was because of the change in routine.
It was a break from routine that had gotten his stepfather under the police microscope.
He had met Megan during the regular course of his job as chief medical examiner in Toronto. She knew him as Jeffrey Harris even though he went by his other name—his legal name—at work. The instant he’d seen her, he’d known she had to be his. Introducing himself as Jeffrey was an instantaneous response. No one he worked with saw them talking briefly, therefore no one heard her address him as Jeffrey.
This was also the first time he would perform a Gathering with all his hair intact. Shaving his head wasn’t needed this time. As a friend, he had been invited to the party. A party where someone would disappear. The idea that someone could attribute any of the crimes that were about to take place at the Radcliffes to him was preposterous.
This Gathering would make the rounds with homicide and everyone would be upset that the BEK killer had struck again. Detective Aiken would do what Detective Joslin had done before him. He would come to the scene of the crime, gather evidence and have photos taken and make another file for the Radcliffe family. Edwin Gavin would perform the postmortem examinations on the Radcliffe family bodies and a hunt would be underway for the location of the missing mother, Megan Radcliffe.