by H. P. Bayne
“End of the hall. Brown leather jacket.”
“Skinny guy?”
“Yeah.”
Sully ducked his head back down, but Dez drew them to a halt before they’d taken three steps.
“He just went into an office,” he explained.
“Great. Must be his meeting.” Sully took another quick look. Marc’s office was there, straight ahead, door open. “Do you think he’s there?”
Dez followed Sully’s sightline. “Marc? Probably is. You sure it’s a good idea?”
It probably wasn’t. This whole returning from the dead thing wasn’t a good idea in any capacity, not for a guy looking to stay alive. But he felt the tug nonetheless, the desire to reforge bonds he’d never wished broken.
Marc had started off as an adviser, an expert who possessed a font of knowledge about all things supernatural. Friendship quickly followed, Marc becoming one of the few people with whom Sully could be completely honest and open about the largest part of his life. At the heart of that friendship was a bond that sprang from the fact both possessed psychic gifts: Sully for seeing the dead, Marc for reading auras. Dez, being Dez, found the whole thing unsettling; for Sully, it was like finding a kindred spirit.
He could walk through campus, hood up, face hidden in such a way no one using their eyes to look would ever recognize him. Marc would see him. He’d once warned Sully he couldn’t hide from the dead, that his aura was like the beacon of a lighthouse for them. Sully had quickly realized he couldn’t hide from Marc either; surprisingly, given his introversion and lifelong need for privacy, he’d discovered he didn’t mind.
“It’ll be fine,” Sully said to Dez. He’d never meant the words more.
Keeping Dez’s boots in view from beneath his hood, Sully followed until his brother’s feet took a left through an office door.
“Desmond!” came the well-remembered voice. “It’s been months! How are…?”
Marc’s sudden stop was loaded with meaning, as was the sound of a breath catching in his throat. Sully looked up, just enough to see the man sitting on the other side of the desk, eyes wide, mouth open, the expression one that would have been comical but for the circumstances.
Sully shifted forward so Dez could close the door to the hall, then lowered his hood fully.
“Hi, Marc.”
Nothing.
“You okay, man?” Dez asked. “You’re not going to pass out on us, are you?”
Marc popped his mouth shut, took a breath through his nose. “What…? How—?”
“Yeah, that’s about what I thought when I first saw him,” Dez said. “Hey, I punched him in the face once I figured out he was real. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you had a go.”
Marc stood, using the desk to support visibly shaky legs until he’d regained control. He circled the desk and, for a second, Sully questioned whether Marc might take Dez up on the suggestion. Instead, Sully ended up wrapped in a tight hug, the professor not bothering to hold back a rush of tears. Sully hugged him back, waiting until the emotion subsided enough for the older man to pull away.
A set of shiny, reddened eyes looked Sully up and down. “I can’t believe it. I can see it’s you. No one else I’ve ever met has an aura like yours. But where have you been? I thought—”
“We all thought that,” Dez said, dropping into one of the two chairs this side of the desk.
Marc, one hand still lingering on Sully’s shoulder, cast his eyes to Dez. “I wondered what had happened when you first came in. The colours around you the past couple of years, they were so, so sad. You’ve got your spark back.”
Dez reached over, swatted Sully’s leg. “Yeah, he’s a spark, all right.”
Marc ushered Sully into the other chair before wheeling his own around the desk to join them. “I don’t understand. How is this possible?”
Sully did what he could to explain, ending with his continued need to stay hidden.
“Of course, this doesn’t leave this room,” Marc said. “Any secret you share with me is safe, just as it always was.” He glanced between the brothers, eyes twinkling as they returned to Sully. “I gather you’re not here just for a visit, or you would have made things easier for yourself and stopped by my home instead. Less likely to be observed there and all.”
Dez held up an index finger as a call to pause. “On that note, I’m going to head back into the hall to watch for our friend. Sully will fill you in on the rest. Good to see you, man.”
“You too. Stop by anytime.” Marc waited until Dez was out and the door shut behind him before questioning Sully. “What friend is this?”
“Not really a friend. He’s a guy we need to talk to.”
“I’m guessing if you’ve come out of hiding for this, your fellow has a ghost problem?”
“He’s one of a few. You remember Carter Devereaux, the kid who was killed in that cave collapse shortly after the flood?”
Marc’s eyes widened behind his glasses, which were no longer his round hipster style, but half-moons that made him look closer to his years. The passage of time, it seemed, had aged everyone.
“You’re telling me that was a homicide?”
Sully quirked up a corner of his mouth. “You remember the limits of my abilities.”
“I do. Is there something I can help with?”
“I wasn’t specifically coming here for help. The guy we need to talk to has an appointment on this floor, and I didn’t want to pass by without stopping in to see you. It felt wrong.” He leaned back in his chair, fingers rubbing at the wooden arm rests. “Honestly, the entirety of the past two years felt wrong. I hurt a lot of people, and I’m sorry. I knew what the impact would be on everyone I care about, but without the visual proof, I guess it got easy to stop thinking about it and to hope for the best. I was depressed enough for everyone, so I figured that was my punishment. Now that I’m back, I can see how bad I screwed up.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself, as always,” Marc said. “You’re still one of the most sensitive and compassionate people I’ve had the pleasure to know. Don’t take too much on yourself. Many of your life’s choices have really been made for you. And that isn’t fair.” He paused and Sully held back on a reply, sensing Marc had something else he wanted to say.
“I have my own apology to make.”
“For what?” Sully asked.
“When you were in Lockwood, I should have gone to see you. I wanted to, you know. But that place…. I just couldn’t. For people like us, people who see things others can’t, a place like that is like hell on earth. When I was younger, I used to simply see auras. As I’ve aged, I’ve noticed more and more that I feel others’ energies as well. Desmond, for instance. I didn’t just see the muddy colours around him; there were times I’d finish speaking with him and I’d have to lock myself away for a cry. The word for it is ‘empath.’ I’m working on understanding and controlling it, much as I’ve hoped to guide you in the use of your own gift. But, as I don’t need to remind you, it’s a constant battle.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Sully said. “Lockwood would be an exploding minefield for you. Anyway, I had plenty of support. Not a day went by someone didn’t come sit with me. I don’t remember everything about those visits, but I do remember the feeling of them. It was a light in the dark. You coming to see me in that place would have done you in, and that would just be one more black mark on my conscience now. And that, I don’t need.”
Marc smiled, and his shoulders unhitched, facial muscles relaxing with the absolution he’d just been handed.
Marc leaned forward and patted Sully’s hand. “You’re a good kid. Now, why don’t you tell me about this latest ghost of yours?”
Sully provided the rundown, taking the professor through what he’d seen and what they had managed to dig up so far.
“It’s weird,” Sully said. “Most of the ghosts I’ve seen have made sure to get their point across to me one way or another. Carter’s different. I thought may
be he was ashamed to be seen because of his appearance. I’m not so sure that’s all this is about anymore.”
“You think maybe he’s trying to protect someone.”
“Most homicides are committed by someone who knew the victim, people who were close to them. What if that’s what’s going on? There would be no way out for him then. He’s stuck here because of what someone did to him, but he’s potentially trapping himself because he doesn’t want the person to face justice.”
“Maybe this isn’t about Carter at all.”
Sully peered at Marc, trying to trace the path of the man’s thoughts. With Marc, it wasn’t always possible. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe the reason Carter isn’t appearing to you more is because he doesn’t want the help. If that’s the case, it’s not about him, is it? It’s about you. It’s important to you to be able to help—particularly, I dare say, since you’re holding onto so much guilt. If you can’t fix things within your own messed-up life, you can always fix others.”
Conversations with Marc typically went one of two ways: either he demystified a situation, or he tossed in an extra hurdle for Sully to leap. Or, rather, he exposed the hurdles Sully had placed in his own path.
“You’re right,” Sully said. “I do feel guilty. I put the people I love through hell the past couple of years. And as much as it really was about trying to protect them from the bad stuff going on around me, it was also about trying to protect myself. I wasn’t as unselfish as I like to believe. Now that I’m back, I can see how bad things got for the people I love, how much worse than I’d ever expected. The worst part is I can’t fix what I broke, not with them. So I guess that leaves the ghosts. If I can make things right for someone, why shouldn’t I try?”
“You should try,” Marc said. “Just remember it takes more than you to fix a person’s life—or death. It’s a partnership of sorts. If this Devereaux kid isn’t willing to hold up his end of the deal, you can’t be expected to follow through with yours.”
Marc sat forward, eyes drifting from Sully’s eyes to his throat, fingers reaching for the thin black cord that hung there. Giving it a gentle pull, Marc withdrew the tiny wooden cross Sully kept tucked within the safe confines of his shirt.
“You still have it. Mariel’s crucifix.”
“I never take it off.”
Letting the cross rest against his fingers, Marc ran a thumb delicately along the surface. Sully read the pain of loss in the man’s expression, the memory of the wife he’d lost years ago. “Has it brought you comfort?”
“Yeah, it has.”
“I’m glad. And Mariel would be glad, too.” Marc thumbed the pendant one last time before releasing it, the protective amulet he’d passed along when Sully had been at a particularly low point. “She would be pleased you have it, and that you honour it the way she did.”
“Of course I’ve honoured it,” Sully said. “It’s a piece of home.”
A knock sounded on the door, and it opened far enough to allow Dez to stick his head into the room. “Hey, Sull? Sorry to interrupt, but our boy just left his prof’s office.”
Sully stood, holding out a hand to Marc who clasped it in both his.
“Remember what I said, Sullivan. It’s a partnership, you and these ghosts of yours. If you take on more than your share, the better the chances you’re going to end up dropping everything else you’ve tried so hard to hold onto.”
Dez spoke up before Sully could.
“That’s why I’m here. Someone’s got to come along behind and pick up after the jerk.”
14
Evan Radich pulled up short when Dez made eye contact with him.
Dez wasn’t surprised. Given his size, he tended to have that effect on people.
Luckily he was nothing if not personable. “Hey, you’re Evan, right?”
“Who wants to know?”
“My name’s Dez. You met a friend of mine the other day at the park. Oliver Chadwell?”
“Oh, right.” The suspicion hadn’t been erased despite Dez’s best efforts, for which there was no blaming the guy. The whole thing probably seemed a little creepy, being approached by a stranger about a single meeting had with a second stranger.
“Listen, I know this is going to sound weird, but he and I have been doing some digging into what happened to Carter and—”
“I don’t have time for this.” Evan took two steps forward, eyes on the elevator he probably viewed as his escape route.
But Dez made one decent brick wall in a hallway this narrow, and he saw plenty of doubt on the younger man’s face as he likely contemplated his chances of skirting past successfully.
“We won’t take up much of your time. Olly’s waiting in the office, right over here. If you could just—”
“I’m late for class, okay?”
Dez offered up his best friendly-yet-knowing smile, one eyebrow lifting as he regarded Evan. “Next class isn’t for a good twenty minutes yet.”
Evan’s shoulders slumped.
Dez was grateful when Marc emerged from his office with his own sales pitch. “Listen, I know this all seems a little out of the blue, but I can vouch for these two. Desmond is a private investigator in town and Oliver is a good friend of mine. I understand you and Carter were close and this isn’t easy to talk about, but I promise you, these two fellows just want to help.”
As Evan trudged into Marc’s office, Dez decided he owed the professor a coffee.
Sully was waiting in one of the chairs, and Marc waved Evan into the one Dez had recently vacated. Dez—as the denoted private investigator in the group—took the lead once Evan had sat and dropped his book bag on the floor.
“We’ve received some information lately that suggests there was more to Carter’s death than a simple accident.”
Evan stared up at him, and Dez belatedly opted to sit in the professor’s chair to avoid giving the student neck strain.
“What do you mean?” Evan asked. “It was an accident. He was killed in that cave-in.”
“We know that’s what was said at the time. But some new information has come to light that points to something different. We’re looking into the possibility Carter was actually the victim of foul play.”
Evan’s widened eyes shifted back and forth between Dez and Sully. “Foul play? You mean murder?” His voice squeaked over the last word, shock written just as clearly in his expression.
“Yeah,” Dez said. “It’s looking that way.”
The student’s eyes shifted down, landing and focusing hard on his lap as if he’d find the answers to the world’s mysteries in the creases of his faded jeans.
Sully chose that moment to enter the conversation. “Evan? You okay?”
It took a moment, but Evan found his voice. “Ye-yeah. Uh…. God. I mean, how do you know this? What kind of information?”
“We can’t say much about it yet,” Dez explained. “Just that we have a client who brought this to us and asked we look into it.”
Evan peered at Sully. “So you meeting me in the park the other day, you weren’t actually lost, weren’t you?”
“No. Sorry.”
“Were you spying on me? On Ro?”
“No,” Sully said. “I was going to check out the spot where it happened. You just happened to be there. I didn’t know who you were, and I wanted to find out. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. We’ve really been feeling our way with this, and it’s not something you just go up and tell people. Carter’s death hit everyone hard enough as it was. We didn’t want to upset everyone worse, telling them he was murdered, not until we had something more to back it.”
“And you do now?”
“We’re getting there,” Dez said. “In the meantime, there are some questions we hoped to ask you. I understand you were his best friend?”
“Yeah. We went back a ways, he and I.”
“Can you tell us about that day?”
Evan drew in a breath and let it out in a heavy huff, then sh
ifted a little in his chair before launching into it. “Like I told the cops at the time, he called me to say he wanted to go check out the caves. We’d been going there after it was made off-limits, and we’d found this crawl.”
“Hang on,” Dez said. “That was something I haven’t been able to get my head around. What sort of security precautions did they have in place at the time? It must have been more than a little signage given the dangers, right?
“They had a fence up, one of those tall metal things over the cave entrance, and it had signs posted to warn people to stay out.”
“So how’d you get past it?”
“We didn’t. We’d been exploring the place for a couple of years with Lars. We had another way in.”
“Where is that?” Sully asked.
Dez shot his brother a glance. He could see Sully’s gears turning, and it wasn’t a far stretch to think he was contemplating venturing below ground in search of the ghost or any evidence that might have got left behind.
“I can’t really explain,” Evan said. “We just knew how to get to it.”
“Did the rescue crews go that way to try to find Carter?” Dez asked.
“No, they widened out an existing opening on top of the cavern nearest the collapsed crawl. Figured it was safer dropping in than spelunking through unstable passages.”
Sully pulled Evan back to the narrative. “So you were telling us about the day of the cave-in.”
“Yeah. He wanted to go, but I couldn’t. I had other plans. I told him not to head down there, to wait until I could go with him, but he could be a stubborn jerk. Obviously, he went anyway. I figured he might pull that, so I called Lars to see if he could go down and kick Car’s ass. Even if he wouldn’t listen to me, he looked up to Lars. I knew he’d do what Lars said.”
“When I was in school, we called our teachers ‘Mister’ and ‘Missus,’ ” Dez said. “We would’ve got reamed out for using first names.”
“Lars hated that. He was kind of young himself, and anyway, we all got to be a little more than teacher-student through the science club. We were friends.”