by H. P. Bayne
Lana didn’t appear entirely convinced, but provided an answer, anyway. “It isn’t over his decision to go alone. It’s over his decision to go at all. The portion of the caves in question was no longer safe due to the flood, and the park had made that clear in signage and in public notices that went out through the media and online. Carter told us he was going to a different cave system, a stable one back from the river. We know now he lied to us. Evan said he and Carter had found a passage they wanted to explore further.
“Our concern is with the fact the teacher who headed the science club didn’t deter the kids from exploring that cave system. In fact, we recently learned he went there on a couple of occasions that summer with them. That’s why we’re suing. The teacher knew better, and he went anyway. But for his influence, his own lack of concern about the dangers, Carter would have known better than to further explore those caves. If it was safe enough for an experienced spelunker like Lars Ahlgren, Carter would have figured it was safe enough for him too.”
“This Lars guy, is he still working for the school?”
“I was told he was let go after the cave-in. Not that anyone found him responsible for our son’s death, mind you. As I understand it, he was fired because he wasn’t supposed to be running the club or involving himself with the kids outside regular school terms. Part of our lawsuit alleges negligence on the part of the school division for not keeping closer tabs on the activities of its teachers.”
It occurred to Dez there was a chance Lars might have been the one present with Carter that day. It could be the teacher hadn’t reported his presence there for fear of facing sanctions over fraternizing with students outside school-related activities. Or maybe the reason for any silence was something darker….
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“I don’t have his address, and I know he doesn’t list it anywhere online. He even took down his social media profile after this happened. His lawyer claimed Ahlgren was being harassed. Can’t say I feel sorry for him.”
Dez had a feeling if anyone knew how to go about finding Lars Ahlgren, it would be Lachlan Fields.
“Don’t worry,” Dez said. “I can probably track him down.”
“Why?” Lana asked. “I mean, you still haven’t told me what this is all about? Why the interest, if you’re not working for the school or Ahlgren?”
This time, the words came without Dez’s needing to think them through. “Some questions have come up about what happened to Carter.”
“What kind of questions? Who’s asking?”
“Someone who knows your son,” Dez said. It wasn’t altogether untrue. Sully was, after all, the only person with any current interaction with the kid. “I can’t reveal my client’s identity, but I’m looking to find him some answers. I wanted to let you and your husband know about the investigation, so you weren’t surprised down the road if anything came up.”
“You didn’t answer my other question. Why is this being dredged up now? What’s the purpose of the investigation?”
Dez thought through how much to reveal before deciding it wouldn’t hurt for the teen’s mother to know the basics. It might help if she could start turning her mind to potential suspects.
“There’s no proof of this, but my client believes Carter wasn’t alone around the time of his death.”
Lana’s eyebrows disappeared behind a row of bangs. “Are you saying someone else was trapped down there with him? That someone else died?”
“I don’t think that’s it, exactly,” Dez said. “More like someone knows what happened and didn’t come forward.” He decided against revealing the homicide aspect for now. No sense going that far down an upsetting road before he had something more concrete to present. “I’m hoping you could turn your mind to anyone who might have been with him that day. Maybe someone in the science club, maybe another friend or a relative. Maybe someone he had a beef with.”
Lana didn’t answer right away, eyes dropping to her knees and mouth taking on the hard line of deep thought. When she at last replied, her answer was what Dez might have anticipated.
“I’ll talk to my husband and see if he’s got some ideas, but for my part, I’d start by tracking down Lars Ahlgren. He’s the one who called 9-1-1. He claimed he happened upon the cave-in, that he’d gone there to warn Carter away. My husband and I never bought it. Check into Ahlgren. If anyone had cause to be down there with Carter, and to lie about it afterward, it’s him.”
7
Dez fired off a quick text to Justice Montague to check on the present whereabouts of his wife.
“Still at home for now,” came the reply a moment later.
It was about all the answer Dez expected he’d receive from the man—and perhaps all the answer Montague would receive from his wife. Dez suspected she was the one thing the man couldn’t control, only a matter of time before his insecurities turned to suspicion—possibly with good reason.
The judge’s reply was good news for both him and Dez, who was left free to continue his enquiries into the Devereaux death.
He placed a call to Lachlan, who answered on the first ring.
“You didn’t bugger things up with the kid’s parents, did you?”
Dez bit back a snarky retort. “No, I didn’t. I was my usual charming self.”
“God, they’re going to sue you next, aren’t they?”
Dez waited until Lachlan finished laughing at his own joke. “You done?”
“Carry on, son.”
“I need to track down a guy named Lars Ahlgren.”
“The teacher in charge of the science club.”
“How’d you remember that?”
“He’s named in the lawsuit. I called a clerk down at Queen’s Bench, had her fire me off an electronic version of the statement of claim. I’m already on it. I’ll have an address for you within the hour.”
Dez guessed Lachlan had a favour to call in with someone he knew, either with the police or the motor licence issuer.
“Where are you at?” Lachlan asked.
“In my vehicle, just leaving the Devereauxs’.”
“How much you tell them?”
“Not much,” Dez said. “Just that I had a client who raised some questions about Carter’s death. I said the client believes someone was with Carter around the time of the cave-in. Lana Devereaux suspects Lars.”
“She would. The parents blame him for the death, for not warning the kids away from the caves. They claim Ahlgren was spelunking those caves himself that summer, and had taken Carter and a couple other students with him.”
“What Lana said makes sense. I mean, if Lars was with Carter when the cave-in happened, he’d have every reason to try to keep that quiet. Not only was he not supposed to be in there, but he took students there outside of term against school rules. Add that to the possibility he left Carter to die in there, and he’d want to make sure no one ever connected him to that incident.”
“Let’s not forget one important detail,” Lachlan said. “If my understanding of your brother’s ability is correct—and granted, I’m still trying to get my head around it—whoever was in there with Carter is actually directly responsible for his death. If it was Ahlgren, he didn’t just abandon Carter. He killed him. Right?”
“Right. So we need to find out if he had a motive.”
“One thing at a time, Braddock. First, we need to put him there at the time of the kid’s death. Find the evidence first. Motive is secondary. Too many investigations have gone sideways because otherwise-good cops got hung up on motive. You fall in love with a motive, you start bending evidence to fit. That’s bad practice, and it’s a surefire way to get a case tossed.”
Dez caught himself smiling. He’d heard a version of those words before. “That’s what my dad used to tell me.”
“You should pay attention. He was a smart man and a great cop.”
“Thanks.”
“What are you thanking me for? I was complimenting him, not you. You�
��re still a schmuck.”
In the safety of his own vehicle, Dez rolled his eyes.
“And don’t roll your eyes at me, kid. I’ll call you when I have something for you. By the way, you dropped your brother off at your place before you went to the Devereauxs’, right?”
“He dropped himself off.”
“Good. We need to keep an eye on him. We can’t afford for him to be seen.”
Lachlan’s choice of words, the use of the “we,” had Dez remembering something the detective had said back when Sully was still missing, locked in a basement by his lunatic family.
“Hey, Lachlan, when I was looking for Sully, you said something to me. You said he was ‘the key.’ You remember?”
“I was in the hospital with a severe concussion and the benefit of a morphine drip. My memory’s not exactly reliable.”
“But you know what I mean, right?”
Lachlan was quiet a long moment, long enough Dez looked to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped.
“Lachlan?”
“Yeah. I know what you mean.”
“So, what did you mean? Why is he the key? The key to what?”
“I can’t get into this with you over the phone. But I’ll tell you this much. There’s something going on in this town, Braddock, something big. And at least part of it centres on the Lockwood asylum. Sullivan knows enough to put us on the right path to figuring it all out. We just need to find a way to the jackpot without playing our hand too soon. Anyway, now’s not the time. We’ve got our hands full enough. Sort out the Devereaux mess and the Montague job. Then you two can help me with my unsolved cases. Once we’ve got all that sorted, we’ll start moving on the big fish.”
“There’s one other case I want Sully’s help with first,” Dez said. “My brother Aiden. Sully’s seen him.”
“Aiden. He drowned, didn’t he?”
“That’s what they said. But if Sully’s seen him, there’s more to it.”
“One thing I’ve learned about life, Braddock,” Lachlan said. “Just when you think you’ve got a handle on something, you realize there’s more to it.”
Unable to find anything better, Sully suffered through the first ten minutes of a sitcom with jokes so bad canned laughter was the best the writers and actors could hope for.
With no expectation of improvement, he clicked off Dez’s TV.
Pax was snoring on the rug at his feet, and Sully tiptoed over him and to the apartment door, deciding he needed some human conversation.
At first glance, Emily Crichton was your typical busybody neighbour, a woman with a ceaselessly watchful eye on others’ comings and goings. Sully knew better. He’d been made aware of her past, of the fact she’d been responsible for his and his mother’s rescue from Lockwood Psychiatric Hospital more than twenty-four years ago. She knew things, not just about his past and the people in it, but about life. Now in her early eighties, Emily possessed a knowledge gained through years of hard-earned experience.
If she’d ever possessed innocence or naivety, it had been robbed from her many years ago. Yet, she never greeted him without the beaming smile she wore now, standing at her apartment door while peering up at him with eyes magnified by thick-lensed glasses.
“Hello, Sullivan. I was wondering when you’d stop by to see me.”
He stepped through the gap she’d left him, entering an apartment filled with decor that would have been considered tasteful in the 1980s. “I thought maybe you’d be sick of me coming over here.”
She giggled as she reached up and patted his whiskered cheek. “Never. Now, what can I get you to eat?”
Within just a couple of weeks of knowing her, Sully had learned not to argue when Emily offered food. He watched with an amused grin as she dug through her fridge until she’d come up with the remains of her homemade coffee cake and the milk needed for tea.
Another ten minutes passed before she sat down with him, time she’d filled with chatter about the weather and a few items she’d seen on the news. Now, sitting across from Sully, she turned her attention fully to him.
“How are you, dear?”
“I’m okay. Just bored.”
“When I was a young girl, my mother used to say ‘bored’ was a swear word. If any of us kids said it, we found ourselves saddled with chores.”
“Dez already keeps his place pretty clean. He’s always been kind of a neat freak.”
“A control freak, you mean.”
Sully’s brow lifted in time with one corner of his lips. “You know him pretty well, huh?”
“He likes to know his ducks are in a row,” Emily said. “Pity for him, because life has a way of scattering the little quackers every time.” She sat forward. “He worries about you, you know. Given what happened recently, I can’t say I blame him.”
Sully let his breath out in a loud exhale. “I know. It’s just….”
“You’re not a duck.”
“No. I’m not a duck.”
Emily sat back, took a sip of tea from a cup she held the proper way: between fingers and thumb, pinkie extended. Sully sensed there was more she wanted to say, and he waited until she’d returned the cup to its saucer.
“I understand where your brother’s coming from,” she said. “But I can also see how hard this must be for you, to live in a world in which you no longer exist.”
“Actually, that part I can deal with. It’s Dez. I mean, I actually kind of missed his hovering, but I don’t really need it anymore, you know? I’ve gone two years without it, without him. I just don’t know how to tell him.”
“Tell him what, exactly?”
Good question. It had Sully pausing as he thought through what the answer should be. “I still need him, because he’s my brother and he means the world to me. But I don’t need him in the way I used to. You know?”
She smiled, her expression coloured by understanding. “You’ve grown up.”
“I’ve had to. I mean, a big part of me’s been an adult since I was a kid. But with everything he’s been through, Dez has always needed a little brother, and I’ve been grateful to be that for him. It was pretty great as a kid, having someone to look out for me after those years being alone. It still is, but… I don’t know. It’s different now, you know? Where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, it feels like I’ve been through a war, and I’ve just come home. Dez wants things to be the same between him and me, but they’re not. They can’t be. Dez hasn’t changed, but I have. And I don’t know how to explain how I feel without hurting him.”
“Maybe it’s better to talk about it now,” Emily said. “Sometimes letting things fester serves to make problems even bigger. You keep things buried, they’ll just keep simmering away. Then one day, something happens and everything just explodes. You don’t want that to happen. Not with you and your brother. You mean too much to each other.”
“There are some things I can’t say to him, no matter how honest I want to be. There are things he doesn’t know, and I’m not sure I want him to. I think if he knew, it might destroy him.”
“That bad, is it?”
“Yeah. That bad.”
“Well, if you need an ear, dear, I’m always here. But think about what I said. It’s enough you need to hide from the world. Don’t hide from the people who love you.”
By the time Dez arrived home, Sully had put together what he could of a late meal, frozen fish sticks from the fridge freezer accompanying bowls of Mara Braddock’s homemade chicken soup.
“I really missed Mom’s cooking,” Sully said between mouthfuls.
“You could have more of it if you went back there.”
Sully shrugged, forgoing further reply in favour of another spoonful. There were other things to discuss, and the two of them didn’t need something else to argue about.
Sully waited until they’d finished, the two of them at the sink doing the dishes Dez insisted on washing immediately after every meal. They’d already talked in detail about Dez’s meeting with the Dever
eauxs, leaving Sully in no doubt as to his own next move. The problem would be getting Dez to agree to the plan.
“Hey, Dez?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve been considering this, and I think I need to talk to Carter’s family.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Listen, man—”
“No, you listen, man. You don’t exist anymore. Period. You start going around in public, it’s going to start getting out about you. It’s only a matter of time before the Dules find you again, or Gerhardt. Is that what you want? Because I sure as hell don’t.”
“That’s not what I want either.”
“So why are we having this discussion? I’m working on it, all right? Isn’t that good enough? I mean, you trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course I trust you. That’s not it. It’s just there are things I’ll only know if I see them for myself. Ghosts don’t just hang around the places where they died. They haunt the living. If I’m having trouble finding them, I can usually get a bead on them by meeting with their families and friends. Carter might not remember what happened to him, who killed him. But if he does, there are answers only he knows. No matter what you do, you won’t find them without his help. That means you’ll need me to do more than sit in your apartment watching daytime television.”
“It won’t do either of us any good if someone gets hold of you again.”
“I went two years without that happening. I’m pretty sure I can manage it again. I’m not a kid anymore, Dez.”
Dez opened his mouth but quickly clamped it shut, and Sully listened as his brother took two measured breaths. Only then did he answer, leaving a half-washed plate in the sink so he could turn fully to Sully. “I know that, okay? That’s not what—”
Their conversation was interrupted by a ringing phone. Dez held up a finger as an indication the conversation wasn’t done before patting his hands dry on a towel and grabbing his cellphone before the call could go to voicemail.
Sully heard his brother stifle a groan before answering. “Dez Braddock…. Okay, what time did…? And where did she…? Okay, I’m on it. I’ll call with any news.”