The Sullivan Gray Series Box Set

by H. P. Bayne

  The sight of it sent him plummeting into the past, where Dr. Gerhardt peered down at him with eyes as lifeless as death, where Sully knew he’d awaken to a cold blue room and a bed from which there was no escape. And yet, held within that flashback remained a tenuous grasp on his current reality, the fact Dez was standing within screaming distance, were Sully able to do so.

  But he could not pull away from the hand that prevented his calling out. Nor could he fight the lightheadedness as he struggled to breathe through his partially obstructed nostrils. The panic and the need to get breath, to try to get help, to escape from that approaching syringe lent Sully temporary strength and he struggled against his attackers. But he had barely budged the man sitting on top of him when he felt the all-too familiar jab in his hip, the dull heat of liquid chemical flowing into him, a rubbing hand dispersing the sedative.

  Because, within seconds, he knew that’s what it was. His vision swam as the tension in his body eased beneath the weight of the man and the predicament, his brain fogging over with an enemy sleep.

  She was the last thing he saw, wide, horrified eyes holding unshed tears beneath a long, violet halo.

  Dez drove the streets and alleys of the old city centre a while, on the hunt for a needle in a haystack.

  He was thankful for the existence of Pax, as it seemed to him it would be a hell of a lot easier to spot a large, black hound than it would be to pick a particular human out of the crowd in a city populated by close to 850,000 people. Particularly when Sully’s sloppy street wear formed the equivalent of a uniform amongst those in the Riverview neighbourhood.

  Dez lost track of time, eyes riveted to the sidewalks either side of the road, the alleyways, the storefronts and empty lots. He scanned the faces and figures of everyone in view, searching both for Sully and for anyone he recognized who might have a clue he didn't.

  When he at last looked down to the dashboard clock, no luck after what felt like half a day’s worth of searching, it read 9:13 a.m. Dez pulled over, put his SUV into park and lowered his head into a hand, massaging his temples between fingers and thumb. His head reeled under the realization it was only mid-morning, that he hadn’t actually been out here all that long.

  And yet he’d scoured every street, every alleyway, had trolled past every park at the risk of being thought some sort of pervert. He’d talked to three street people he recognized from his years on the force, all individuals with a detailed knowledge of the comings and goings of those in their world. No one had seen anyone resembling Sully and, perhaps more strangely, none had seen a large, black dog.

  Somewhere in the back of his head remained a niggling, foolish hope: perhaps Sully had stepped out to take Pax for a walk or a leak, or had developed such an affinity with the outdoors that he couldn’t bear sleeping in an actual bed. Illogical and improbable, it was enough to send Dez back in the direction of home. If nothing else, he needed to check. He would also have to force down some breakfast so he could continue sorting through this mess if Sully wasn’t there.

  He put the vehicle back into drive and pulled into traffic, setting a course for the his apartment.

  Dez trudged up the stairs, hands buried in the pockets of his hooded jacket, barely looking up as he approached his apartment door.

  He had his key in the lock when a door opened across the hall. Dez’s eyes moved heavenward as he fought to keep from voicing a groan. God, not now.

  “Hello, Desmond.”

  “Hello, ma’am.”

  “Emily, please. And I wonder if I might trouble you a moment.”

  “Actually, I'm just in the middle of—”

  “It's about your brother.”

  The magic words. They turned Dez in place and took him the few steps across the hall to Miss Crichton’s open suite door.

  “Well, more specifically”—she edged the door open a little more to allow Dez a better view into her apartment— “what I’d assume is his dog.”

  Dez stepped up to the gap Miss Crichton had created and felt his stomach drop. It was indeed Pax. No denying it, not the way the dog had perked up his ears and was now tail-thumping earnestly against the floor. But if anything was more unsettling about Pax being here without Sully, it was the way he wobbled and nearly fell as he rose to greet Dez.

  “How’d he end up here?” Dez asked as he pushed through the door and moved to examine Pax, holding him up as well as he could against his leg.

  “I found him outside, at the rear door. He seemed to want in badly, and appeared so unwell, I simply didn’t have the heart to leave him out there. It was all I could do to coax him away from your suite, though. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was looking for you.”

  “And my brother? Did you see him? Did you see anyone around the dog?”

  “No, I’m sorry. Just him, the poor fellow. I gave him a piece of chicken, boneless of course. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s fine, thanks. And you’re sure, you’re absolutely sure, you didn’t see anyone? You looked?”

  “Oh, yes. I could see how concerned you were this morning. I can’t imagine why this fellow would have made his way back here all on his own, especially in this state. I hate to suggest it, but you might want to check with the hospitals.”

  That seemed like a good idea to Dez, albeit a less-than-palatable one. “I’ll do that. Thank you for taking care of Pax.”

  “Is that his name? It’s Latin for peace, you know.”

  Dez hadn’t really thought about that, but it made sense. If Sully had no one else the past two years, no doubt peace was exactly what the dog had provided, at least in some measure.

  “Thanks again, ma’am.”

  “Emily, please. And I’m thinking you might want to take him by a vet, just to make sure. He seems a little dizzy and sluggish. I’d be worried about a head injury given his symptoms.”

  “I’ll look after him. Thanks.”

  Dez stepped away from Pax and patted the side of his leg, watching as the dog took a few tentative steps toward him. Pax held his ground and followed Dez from the apartment, tail wagging wildly as if, despite his predicament, he had just found some reason to hope.

  But Dez’s own hopes had been dashed, and were crushed further still when a glance inside his apartment revealed no sign of his brother.

  He turned back to Pax, meeting watchful brown eyes which appeared to question him, inquiring about the next step. And Dez knew, his guts rolling with the realization, he had no answer.

  6

  If there was one thing Dez knew, it was he didn’t have money to pay a vet.

  There would be a cost for the exam, for X-rays if a head injury was suspected, the likelihood of housing Pax at a clinic while he was monitored and additional tests were run. And treatments themselves wouldn’t be cheap; Dez expected even the basics would run into the triple or even quadruple digits once everything was said and done.

  He didn't know any vets, no one who would run tests at a massive discount or who owed him any kind of favour. But he did know a doctor—of a kind.

  Granted, Dr. Kindra Abraham was more used to dealing with the sort of patients who didn’t bark or bite or, for that matter, complain. But right now, he’d take what he could get.

  With Dez propping him up, Pax managed the stairs down to the parking lot. Dez had hoped the fresh air would help revive him; he wanted to take a walk around the neighbourhood, where a miracle could happen in the form of the dog leading him to a clue or, with any luck, to Sully himself. But walking any great distance did not appear to be a possibility at the moment, not for this dog whose belly was dragging ever nearer the ground with each step. If Pax was going to help find their mutual loved one, he'd need to be in a better state to do that first.

  Mind made up, Dez picked Pax up and lugged the large canine to his SUV, placing him with no small amount of difficulty into the backseat where he covered him with a blanket from the hatch. With his furry passenger as comfortable as possible, Dez drove off in the direction of
the KR morgue.

  Pax, sitting up and watching the passing city, appeared to have perked up by the time Dez reached the large brownstone. He even managed to hold himself largely upright as Dez led the way into the building’s rear door, waving at Larry the commissionaire on the way in.

  “I’m not sure the doctor will appreciate a dog in her autopsy suite,” Larry said.

  Dez paused long enough to bestow a friendly and hopefully off-putting smile on the retired postal worker. “Don’t worry. If any of the patients start sneezing, I’ll take him right out.”

  Dez pushed through the doors and headed down a pair of hallways, past two large rooms lined with refrigerated compartments housing the bodies awaiting dissection by Kindra and her staff. Four autopsy suites were just beyond those rooms, and in one of these he spotted the pathologist he was looking for.

  At fifty-two, Kindra Abraham—Lowell Braddock’s wife—was still an attractive woman, even covered as she was by a gown, mask and surgical cap. A window offered viewing from the hall, enabling police to have families identify deceased loved ones. Dez rapped at the glass and watched as the older woman glanced up from her work.

  Dez was no fan of autopsies, and he quickly averted his eyes as Kindra stepped away from the corpse on the table, exposing the inner workings she’d just been digging into. She was alone in the suite, the lack of a police presence suggesting this one was not a suspicious death—a fact that made him feel better about causing this distraction.

  Kindra peeled off her gloves, paper gown and cap, rolling them up and tossing them into a waste bin on the way out.

  She greeted him with a smile and a warm hug. “Desmond. It’s wonderful to see you. I can’t remember the last time we talked.”

  “Mom’s birthday in February,” he said.

  “Has it been that long? How have you been?” It was a loaded question, one that didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t end in pity and a good, stiff drink later.

  “I’ve been getting by,” he said instead, hoping it was passable as truth. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “So is your uncle Lowell. He’d love to see you, you know. He misses you. Ever since your dad died, well …. It’s been very hard for him. He and Flynn were so close.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Kindra was evaluating him, her eyes narrowed, lips turned up in a small smile. “You still haven’t forgiven him, have you?”

  They’d never had this conversation, the idea of it almost as uncomfortable as the act itself. He bought himself a moment by playing dumb. “For what?”

  “You know what. He’s the one who insisted on Sullivan’s committal to Lockwood. You didn’t want that.”

  “Sully didn’t belong there.”

  “He needed help, Desmond. You remember what he was like then, don’t you? He tried to kill himself twice.”

  “I’m not denying he needed help. Lockwood wasn’t the kind of help he needed.”

  “He needed someone with him around the clock to ensure he didn’t harm himself. You had a young family of your own to provide for. He was too much for your mom to manage, especially since it was so soon after your dad. And Lowell and I work long hours. Short of keeping him tied up somewhere, Lockwood was the only option. You know that.”

  He didn’t know that. Not anymore. Lockwood had done nothing but make things worse for Sully, and Dez had felt the committal a betrayal by the only real family Sully had ever known.

  “I know Uncle Lowell was trying to do right by Sully. But I don’t think any of us really knew how bad things were at Lockwood.”

  “Are you so sure it was that bad? All you have to go by is Sullivan’s word.”

  That was as far as Kindra was going to take him on this topic. “His word was good enough for me. Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. The past couple of years have been pretty rough.”

  “I can certainly understand that. No need to apologize. Just please think about forgiving Lowell. He meant well. He really did.” Her eyes went to the dog at Dez’s side, and he was relieved to find an end to that conversation. “And who’s this?”

  She reached out to pet Pax’s head, but the dog uttered a low growl, causing her to draw her hand back.

  “Pax, no,” Dez said. Then, as if the dog could understand, “She’s my aunt. She’s fine.”

  Dez returned his attention to Kindra. “Sorry. Pax isn’t really a people dog. And I’m worried he might have a head injury.”

  “Did he hit it on something?”

  “No idea,” Dez said. “He went out this morning and I couldn’t find him for a few hours. When I finally did, he was pretty wobbly and dopey.”

  “Did you take him to a vet?”

  “I can’t really afford one right now.”

  Kindra’s smile was a knowing one. “So you thought maybe I could take a look.”

  “I know it’s not exactly your area of expertise.”

  “Not even remotely.”

  “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

  Kindra was still smiling at him, albeit with more sympathy now than amusement. “All right, fine—as long as he keeps his teeth to himself.”

  Thankfully, the X-ray didn’t reveal anything of note, no obvious signs of head injury. And, Dez noted with no small amount of relief, the longer they stayed here, the more alert Pax became until he no longer needed help to keep his legs.

  With no other immediate prognosis, Kindra took a blood sample while Dez hovered, ensuring Pax didn’t leave the pathologist with a need to seek treatment herself.

  “I’ll send this off to the lab over at LOBRA, ask them to check it ASAP,” she said.

  “They won’t mind?”

  “It’s my husband’s company. I’m pretty sure they’ll be happy to accommodate my request.”

  “Good point.”

  “So, I’m curious. How did you end up with a dog? You didn’t have him the last time I saw you.”

  Dez chose his words carefully. “A friend of mine had to move, and he couldn’t take him, so I’ve kind of adopted him, I guess.”

  “Well, he’s a little rough around the edges, but he seems nice enough once you get to know him.”

  Dez looked down at Pax, sitting quietly on his haunches next to him. While the dog had made no other threatening moves toward Kindra, he was still regarding her with an unnerving intensity Dez could only describe as suspicion. Dez guessed Pax hadn’t often had occasion to be poked and prodded by a vet, let alone a forensic pathologist, and he wasn’t likely to go too willingly back to either should the future require it.

  “Yeah, he’s a pretty good dog.”

  “I remember you wanted one when you were small.”

  “Yeah, I did. But Aiden ….”

  Kindra finished up where Dez had trailed off. “Was allergic. I remember.”

  Dez caught himself staring at his feet to avoid his aunt’s eye. “I used to resent him for that.”

  “You were eight years old.”

  “Doesn’t change anything. If I hadn’t been so pissed at Aiden, he’d probably still be alive.”

  “Why would you say something like that?”

  “I was barely speaking to him the week he died. But you know little brothers. He refused to stop buzzing around me, wanting to play. I suggested hide and seek. Aiden was overjoyed, took off like Christmas morning. And I ….”

  The pause hung in the air, while he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. After an uncomfortable amount of time, he provided what Kindra was obviously waiting on.

  “I never went to look for him. I let him stay out there. And I knew the river was down there, that he’d always been fascinated by it. I should have been there with him. If I had been, if I’d just been the big brother I should have been ….”

  This time, there was nothing more to add, nothing more he wanted to say.

  “Desmond, your brother’s death was not your fault. Do you understand me? You were just a young kid. At some point, you�
��re going to have to stop blaming yourself.”

  Dez tried to smile but couldn’t quite get there. “I’ve spent almost two decades perfecting it. Why stop now?”

  Kindra’s answering smile was as humourless and tight as Dez imagined his own must have been, the sight of her pity pulling his gaze back down to his feet. He drew in a long breath and released it slowly. While he’d never erase thoughts of Aiden—and wouldn’t want to if he could—he had learned how to function around them if he worked hard enough. It took a moment, but when he looked back up at his aunt, it was with a smile that was closer to genuine.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lay this on you. It’s been a tough morning.”

  “I’m happy to help if I can. And for heaven’s sake, you never need to apologize to me, all right? You’re like a son to me. You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

  “I know. Thanks. I appreciate you taking the time to look at Pax. I know it’s not a normal daily task for you.”

  Kindra chuckled. “You got that right, kid. But it’s no problem. Anyway, it was lovely visiting with you.”

  “You too. I suppose I should let you get back to work.”

  Kindra looked over her shoulder to where the open hall door revealed the autopsy suite in question. “Well, it’s not like Mrs. Wilson is going anywhere. But you’re right. I probably should get back. I’ll send Pax’s blood work and ask them to put a rush on it. I read in the paper there have been a few dog poisonings lately, so I think it’s best to make sure everything here is okay.”