The Sullivan Gray Series Box Set

by H. P. Bayne

  But, in her case, the words stopped short of ringing true.

  “I wish I knew.”

  14

  Dez didn’t question Lucienne further for the time being, giving them both a small break as they and Pax ate the stew that served as supper.

  But, while Dez had chosen to remain silent for now, he had plenty going on in his brain as he regarded the woman. Lucienne Dule was hiding something. Though he didn’t believe she was directly responsible for what had happened to Lachlan, he resolved to speak to the man as soon as possible. Dez was pretty good at smelling a lie; Lachlan was the human equivalent of a bloodhound, his nose so finely tuned that cops used to joke he could detect a fib being uttered in the next room to another investigator.

  While he saw the value in keeping Sully’s biological mother under his watch until this was sorted, he was really looking forward to her heading home for the night. He needed some space, some room to think, an opportunity to piece together the world that had been blown apart by the recent bombshells.

  She interrupted the silence by clearing her throat. “I hate to ask, but I don’t feel safe returning home tonight. I wonder if you might let me stay here.”

  His heart dropped as she poked at the food in front of her. Never one to turn away a woman in distress, he couldn’t do much other than to grant his reluctant consent. And, in this case, there was the added element; this woman in distress was also Sully’s birth mother.

  “You can have the pullout,” he said. “I think I’ve got a clean sheet in the closet next to the bathroom. Sorry, but I’m a little short on other bedding.”

  “This will be just fine, thanks.”

  The apartment felt very full, the sensation he got whenever he had anyone over who wasn’t family. While he wasn’t an introvert, he liked his space, so decided he’d have to go looking for it elsewhere for a little while.

  Bulldog was the perfect excuse.

  “Listen, I’ve got to go check on a contact,” he said. “The guy was going to be keeping an ear to the ground for me, listening for anything about Sully.”

  “I didn’t know you’d been asking around.”

  Dez realized his conversation with Bulldog had taken place before he’d met Lucienne, so thought fast. “I made some phone calls after you wandered away from Lachlan’s office. Thought I’d better get some balls in the air on this.”

  Lucienne frowned. “I really wanted this kept as quiet as possible. You knew that.”

  “It will be kept quiet. My contact’s a trustworthy guy. Silent as the grave.”

  That bit of BS had Lucienne’s frown turning upside down, though Dez read it as one of those knowing smiles rather than one denoting relief. “In my experience, the grave is far from silent,” she said.

  Dez gave the room a quick scan, hoping she wouldn’t notice. If there was anyone else here besides the two of them and Pax, he couldn’t see it. Of course, he’d never be able to anyway. “Right. Well …. I’ll just be a while.”

  “Maybe I should come with you.”

  “No,” Dez said, the reply coming too quickly. He toned it down as he provided an explanation. “My contact gets skittish around other people. Why don’t you put the TV on for a bit, try and get your mind off things? I’ll give you my phone number, and you can give me yours. If anything comes up, give me a call.”

  “What if someone comes while you’re out?”

  “I’m not expecting someone. Just don’t answer the door.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Dez felt an eyebrow creep up. “Oh. Well, no one knows you’re here, do they? If it’s true someone went after Lachlan to try to find you, there’s no reason to think they’d know to look for you here. Right?”

  “Unless we were followed.”

  “I wasn’t followed,” Dez said. “And given the circumstances, I’m sure you were paying attention when you made your way here. Do you think someone tailed you?”

  “No. You’re right, I was watching for that.”

  “So, you’re fine. Just try to relax for a bit if you can. Don’t go anywhere.” He considered telling her she could go across the hall to Miss Crichton’s, but he didn’t want the older woman dragged into this. He’d never forgive himself if he put her in danger, particularly since she didn’t seem the type to have ever faced it in her life.

  “I’ll call or send a text before I come back so I don’t startle you,” he said, jotting down his number and accepting the one she provided in return. “Call if you need something.”

  The evening was warm and, still light outside thanks to the sun’s extended summer hours, Dez opted to walk rather than drive to the park.

  He and Pax were barely a block from home when his phone rang, and he allowed a sigh and an eye roll, wondering what his unwanted guest needed so soon.

  But a check of his call display revealed not Lucienne’s number—programmed into his phone for safekeeping prior to his leaving the building—but his Aunt Kindra’s.

  “Desmond, I meant to call earlier, but I was busy finishing a report on my post-mortem from today. I heard back from the lab on Pax’s blood work and the dart you found. The two match up. I’ll spare you the big words but a drug called azaperone was found in both samples sent. I’m told it’s often used in vet medicine in lower doses to reduce aggression, but it can be used for anesthesia in larger doses, which seems to be what was present here. They also found a second drug called zolazepam, which can be used in combination with azaperone for anesthetic purposes in vet med. Zolazepam, in particular, is water-soluble so has a fast onset. I’m thinking that makes it ideal for a tranq.”

  Dez moved to lean up against a building while he took that in. He’d been expecting it, of course, but this sealed it, robbing him of any hope he might have been carrying. If Pax had gone down quick, no way Sully would have left him willingly. In Dez’s mind, there was only one reason to have tranquilized Pax, and that was to get him out of the way to prevent his natural instinct to protect his human.

  “The good news is there should be no long-term effects,” Kindra said. “Even so, as the dosage looked to be rather high, given the amount still in his blood when you brought him in, it’s best you keep an eye on him. And if there are any further problems, I’d consider breaking down and taking him to an actual vet.”

  Still a little numb from the news, Dez nodded before it dawned on him his aunt wouldn’t see, meaning a verbal response was necessary. “Thanks, Auntie K. This might seem like a strange question, but what sort of effects might the drugs have on a human?”

  “Why? Did you poke yourself with the dart or something?”

  “No, I’m okay. Just wondering.” It was weak and he knew it.

  So did she. “What aren’t you telling me here?”

  Dez looked down the street in the direction of the park. He could just make out a few trees from here, their branches left to grow wild until they covered streetlights and signs. For not the first time that day, Dez’s mind drifted through the scene that must have played out near there, and he considered the unthinkable—that Sully might have been taken while Dez was mere feet away, talking to Bulldog.

  “I told you I was looking after Pax for a friend,” he said. “I haven’t heard from him and I’m worried something might have happened to him.”

  “Did you contact the police?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Maybe you should. High doses of azaperone can cause respiratory depression in humans. If you have any concern your friend might have used or been administered the same drug, I would certainly notify police and have them begin a search. While I don’t think what I saw in Pax would be enough to cause any real concern if administered to a human, it’s impossible to say anything concretely without having someone here to test. Does your friend have a history of mental health or addictions issues?”

  Dez was grateful this was a phone conversation rather than a face-to-face. “I don’t think so, but I don’t really know him all that well.”

/>   “Is there a possibility he administered the drug to his dog on his own, maybe to test dosage? It’s been known to be used as an antipsychotic, which is why I’d asked about the mental health issues.”

  “Anything’s possible I guess. I’m going to go have another look around for him. I appreciate your help, Auntie K.”

  “Anytime, kiddo. Take care of yourself. And come see us soon. I mean it.”

  “I will. Thanks again.”

  Dez disconnected, looking down at Pax as he dropped the phone into his pocket next to his apartment keys. “I wish I could see what you saw, buddy. At least then, I’d have some idea where to go from here.”

  As it was, the only place he knew to go was forward, his path taking him into the park.

  Pax, he observed, became nervous as soon as he clamped eyes on the place, returning to circle the spot where Dez had found the dart and the drag marks earlier. Dez’s heart sank as he was forced to return to the location, but he allowed Pax a few minutes before turning and pushing him from the bluff of trees. Staying there would do them no good. But, with any luck, finding Bulldog would.

  There was a spot near the river, where the flood had washed away the grassy slope and left behind a tall bank, providing a perfect spot for those looking to escape the immediate view of authorities or the complaining public. Using the piles of dead wood the flood had left behind, park-dwellers found plenty of kindling to stoke the fires that kept them warm in the makeshift camp on the chillier nights—at least until winter came and chased them into overcrowded shelters or abandoned homes across the river in The Forks.

  It was too early for a fire but, as evening settled in, Dez figured the riverbank camp was as good a place to look for Bulldog as any.

  Pax was growling up a storm as he hovered at Dez’s side, proving himself something of a machete clearing a path for them through the men and women who had made the place a temporary residence.

  Someone had dragged a beaten up, legless sofa down here and that’s where Dez found Bulldog. The stout man lay kicked back on it, looking for all the world like a guy having a blissful, after-work nap. Dez leaned over, was relieved when he didn’t pick up on any odour of alcohol. And while Bulldog wasn’t one to turn down a joint when offered, he stayed away from hard drugs as a rule, so Dez didn’t have any qualms about dropping into the free spot beside the man and shaking him awake.

  “The hell?” Bulldog grumbled as he awoke.

  “Hey, Bulldog.”

  “Copper. I was having a very nice dream. That model from the shampoo ad. You know the one I mean.”

  Dez grinned. “You’re still hung up on her? That ad’s something like five years old. They haven’t run it in years.”

  “Hey, I don’t have a TV, and it can have all the air time it wants inside my head. What time is it anyway?”

  “About seven in the evening.”

  “Great. Let’s go get a drink somewhere, huh?”

  “I can’t tonight, man.”

  “You’ve never turned down a drink, Copper. What’s wrong? You sick or something?”

  “You know what’s wrong. Unless you’ve forgotten already.”

  Bulldog stared at him, and Dez saw the moment memory clicked back into place. “Damn. Right. Sorry.”

  “Sorry, as in you didn’t check around?” Dez asked.

  “Sorry, as in I didn’t find diddly squat. No one saw anything that I can find out. It’s like our boy is one of those ghosts he chases.”

  Bulldog didn’t add to the statement, and Dez didn’t make any more of an effort, the two simply sitting and watching the river flow in front of them. Beyond that, across the wide expanse of water, lay The Forks, a large island so named as it forced the Kimotan to separate and rejoin downstream. If Riverview Park had been left to grow wild, The Forks had become the Amazon rainforest, trees and other vegetation having taken over until the shells of grand houses had all but disappeared behind them. Some of the largest and most elegant homes had been located there, along with a range of boutique businesses and a well-designed shopping centre that drew people from all over KR. But the flood had overrun most of the island, washing away many riverfront homes entirely and leaving the ground beneath numerous others unstable. Most homes and businesses had been so badly water-damaged they would have required full rebuilds to stabilize rotting walls. The mall, too, was destroyed, its entire north wing having collapsed into the river.

  In the end, The Forks was deemed a write-off. It was a no-man’s land now, overrun by the most troubled of KR’s population. Street gangs were born and bred there, drug addicts bought, sold and died there, violent criminals prowled the heaving and cracked streets for potential victims there. Even police didn’t go to The Forks anymore, the place more or less sealed off from the rest of the city thanks to the no-longer safe Forks Bridge. In the early days, there had been routine talk of calling in the Army to clean the place up, many former residents unable to bear the thought of their homes being used as gang strongholds or crack houses. But, in the end, The Forks had been left to the wolves, a carcass for them to pick clean as the rest of the city turned its attention to other projects.

  Dez often found his attention straying to the old island, wondering what answers the place held to the city’s unsolved crimes and missing persons files. As it stood, he doubted anyone would ever find out.

  But, for now, he had answers of his own that needed finding.

  “Have you ever heard of a woman named Lucienne Dule?” he asked his friend.

  “Can’t say as I have,” Bulldog said. “Who’s that?”

  “She says she’s Sully’s birth mother.”

  Bulldog grunted, the sound suggesting either acknowledgment or disapproval. It was impossible to say which. “So what’s she after then?”

  “She thinks he’s still alive and she’s trying to find him.”

  “Coincidentally, so are you.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the why I’m not so sure about. She knows about him seeing the dead, too, says she has the same ability.”

  “But you don’t believe her.”

  “I don’t know what I believe. I haven’t seen anything to suggest she isn’t legit. Her story seems to fit. She didn’t tell me the full truth at the start, but I could understand why once I found out more about her.”

  “So you don’t doubt who she is, you just have your doubts you can trust her with Sully.”

  Dez shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to see him get hurt, I guess.”

  “First you gotta see him, period.”

  “Yeah,” Dez said. “You’re right. First things first.”

  “Want me to ask around about her?”

  “From what I can gather, she was never street. Quite the opposite actually. I doubt anyone will know much about her.”

  “Never hurts to ask. I mean, you brought her up for a reason, right?”

  “I guess. Sure, ask around. But don’t lose track of Sully, okay? I need your eyes and ears on that full-time.”

  “Hey, like I told ya, he’s my boy too. I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”

  Dez nodded. “Thanks, man.”

  “Yeah. So tell me something. Why you so scared of ghosts anyway?”

  As it happened, Dez had had an entire lifetime to think through that one. “I prefer threats I can see, I guess. And I like problems I can fix.”

  15

  It felt like nighttime.

  But with nothing but a dim lightbulb in a windowless room to go by, it was always nighttime.

  Sully had managed what felt like a short nap. He was still tired, exhausted even, the stress of the day taking its toll as he lay on the bare mattress, staring at the cobwebs in the corner above his head. It was just visible in the shadows, the web large enough that fine, pale threads of it escaped the darkness, connecting the short distance to the wall. Sully thought he could make out the spider sitting in the midst of it, but it was difficult to tell without getting up for a closer look. For all he knew, that tiny black
dot could have been a fly trapped there, helplessly waiting for the spider’s return.

  With nothing else to do, Sully considered getting up to look. While he ordinarily didn’t begrudge a spider a good meal, he had never before felt such an affinity for a fly. Because the longer he watched the web, the more convinced he became that’s what he was looking at. He thought he could see the insect trembling as it tried to free itself, believed he could hear the frantic buzzing of its wings as it struggled.

  Sully could only imagine the spider was there somewhere, settled back in a dark section of web, watching the show, waiting for that perfect moment when entertainment gave way to hunger. Did spiders wait until their prey gave up, exhausted and welcoming death as a means to end the torment? Or did they move in earlier, enjoying the fight with a trapped insect for which there was no escape?

  Sully had made up his mind to free the thing, had stood to reach the web, when the sound of a key in the lock changed his plans.

  He stepped off the mattress, relocating to the stability of the cement floor where he at least stood something of a chance in a fight. Not much of a chance, granted, but something was better than nothing.

  Brennan had learned his lesson, moving slower this time as he entered the room, using shoulder and leg in the door to avoid getting his head or neck crushed should Sully be waiting in his previous hiding spot. Brennan’s head poked around the door next, eyes locking onto Sully across the room. Tension faded and relief took its place as Brennan stepped the rest of the way into the small cell, leaving the door open a crack.

  Sully had thought through the earlier exchange and realized what the other man must want from him. Brennan knew his secret and, for some reason, believed Sully had the skills to control it. Sully suspected Brennan had been driven near to insanity—maybe beyond—by the things he could see. He was looking for ways to stop it, or at least hoping to find out how to stay on top of it. Either way, Sully had spent much of his life looking for the same answers before he’d finally accepted he was never going to find them. He’d made some tentative peace with it, was determined to do his best to maintain his side of the armistice. But Brennan, it seemed, was still in the midst of full-scale war, and had the emotional battle scars to prove it.