by H. P. Bayne
“He’s not a stupid man,” Sully said. “No way he’s held onto anything incriminating.”
“So what’s the point of this little visit?”
Sully had begun to wonder the same thing—until they pulled up to the locked gate belonging to the Montague house. Forbes barely had time to put down his window when a beep sounded from the call box and the gate began to swing open.
“The hell?” Forbes said. “I didn’t even have time to buzz.”
Sully thought back to what Dez had said about his own experience with a mysteriously opening gate. Like Forbes, Dez had no idea why.
But there was something else the two men had in common.
“Where are you keeping the key card you got from Dez?” Sully asked.
“It’s bagged in my front pocket. Wh—?” Forbes paused halfway through his final question. “You said you got this from Carter’s trunk?”
“Yeah. We couldn’t figure out what it was for. Dez thought maybe the gate opened for him because Carter manipulated it somehow, but I think we might have just figured out the actual reason.”
Rather than driving through the gate, Forbes backed out and pulled a short distance away down the block, waiting until the gate again sealed shut. Then he removed the key card from his pocket and handed it to Sully in the back seat.
“Hold this as far from the call box as you can,” he said, then started creeping back toward the gate.
Sully held the card toward the back window on the passenger side. This time, when they pulled up to the gate, it didn’t open.
Having waited a few seconds, Forbes extended a hand toward the back seat. “Hand it to me.”
Sully did as asked, placing the item against the cop’s waiting fingers. Forbes switched it from right to left, then moved the keycard toward the call box.
The box beeped. A mechanical noise accompanied movement from the gate as it once again opened.
“This doesn’t necessarily give us anything against the judge,” Forbes said. “You found photos showing the kid with Tessa Montague. She could be the one who gave him this card. Or he could have stolen it from her. If so, everything could have been going on under her husband’s nose.”
Another valid point. “But we’ve still got this other key. Could be that leads us to something.”
“I can’t very well go around the house trying it in every lock,” Forbes said. “I don’t have a warrant, and no way Montague will allow it.”
“Give it to me,” Sully said. “I can check around while you’re keeping Montague occupied.”
Forbes snorted. “Right. I hate to tell you, but that’s pretty much the same thing. Anything you find won’t be admissible in court if we don’t do this right. As it is, I could get into some pretty hot water even bringing you along.”
“Only I don’t exist,” Sully said. “You’re not really bringing anyone along.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
Even so, Forbes paused inside the gate, allowing Sully to exit behind a hedge that bordered much of the inside wall of the property.
“Don’t let anyone see you,” Forbes said.
“It’s pretty dark out already. I think I can avoid being seen.”
“Ever hear of motion sensors? Listen to me. If you’re caught, you just slipped inside while the gate was opened, you hear me? And, for God’s sake, if you find anything that might fit that key, leave it alone and tell me about it before you go putting your fingerprints all over it.”
Sully nodded his agreement, closing the door behind himself and leaving Pax behind in the car. He’d need to go unseen, and that would be more difficult with a dog at his side.
“Be back here in twenty minutes,” Forbes ordered through his still-opened window. “If you’re not here, I’m leaving without you and you’ll need to find your own way out.”
Sully nodded again as he ducked in behind the hedge, watching as the car pulled away toward the house.
Approximately two feet of space stood between the hedge and the high wall bordering the property, plenty of room for Sully to move comfortably as he made his way closer to the house. Getting inside wasn’t going to be easy, particularly since he didn’t know where Montague was. What Sully did know was the judge was likely to at least be somewhere on the main floor while Forbes was inside. That would give Sully more or less free rein over the upstairs for a few minutes—provided he could find a way in.
Moving farther forward, he watched through a break in the hedge as Forbes left the vehicle and headed toward the house. Sully recognized Montague at the front door as he responded to Forbes’s knock and, a moment later, the detective followed the judge indoors.
Sully scanned the windows of the upper floor, hoping to spot an opening there. The visual search came up empty, and his thoughts turned to what he might find if he continued around the house.
But as he continued along behind the hedge, his attention was drawn to a cottage this side of a small lake. The hedge ended a short distance before the tiny building, and Sully knew he would have to move carefully if he was to reach it unseen.
Creeping to the end of the hedge, Sully took a moment to study the house behind him. He could see no movement there, and he hoped that meant the judge was occupied with Forbes. It was just as possible Montague was watching from somewhere behind one of the windows—none of which afforded an obvious point of entry.
But the cottage was within reach. With one more glance at the house, Sully crouched down, took a breath and pushed off his back foot, launching into a sprint toward the small structure. It took him just a few seconds to reach the far wall—enough time for him to be seen were Montague in a position to do so. Hoping for the best, he kept going, edging toward the door of the building.
The entrance faced the lake, away from the main house, allowing him to remain unobserved for the moment. He belatedly considered the possibility of surveillance cameras, but a quick scan turned up nothing.
Sully tried the door but discovered it locked. A window was just to the side, and he leaned past a planter box to look through it.
There, in the centre of the main room, was Carter.
“The door’s locked,” Sully said. “I can’t get in. Could you—?”
Carter disappeared. A moment later, a click sounded and the door edged open.
Sully’s eyes dropped to the doorknob. No visual sign of Carter, but his presence was obvious given the circumstances.
Stepping inside, Sully clicked on the light on his phone and scanned the room. Two easels stood facing the windows, each holding a partially finished painting. Both showed obvious talent, and he was reminded Tessa was an artist. A bathroom stood on the far side, but the cottage contained no other rooms. A set of shelves along one wall held a variety of art supplies and other items, and he headed there next.
Searching the shelves, Sully spotted a small box resting on the lowest shelf. Crouching to inspect it, he noted a keyhole that might fit the key now in Forbes’s possession. The box was locked, but the most notable detail was that the box was the right size and shape to hold a gun. Flynn Braddock had owned a personal handgun, and had kept it in a box similar to this.
The fact Carter had reappeared and was standing near the box suggested to Sully he was on the right track.
An attempt to open the box was unsuccessful, and Sully hoped Carter would be able to repeat his trick with the door. But, as minutes ticked by with nothing resulting but a sense of mounting frustration from the spirit, Sully decided he’d need some human intervention.
He drew his phone from his pocket and located Forbes’s number in his recent contacts, firing off a quick text as he turned from the shelf to head for the door.
Found what looks like a gun box on the bottom shelf inside the building by the lake. Need the small key to open.
The feeling of tension in the room grew to fever pitch in the seconds it took to type and send the text. Sully jumped at a loud crash behind him, spinning to discover the box now lying open on t
he floor along the opposite wall. Next to it, spilled out on the tile, lay a firearm.
Check that, Sully texted to Forbes. Box open. It’s a handgun.
What the hell are you up to? Forbes responded a moment later. You’d better not be screwing with evidence.
Sully took a photo of the gun and sent it to Forbes. Ask Montague about it.
I will, Forbes replied. Just get out of there. Now.
Sully was happy to obey. He turned to Carter first, ensuring he understood. “The police officer I came with will ask about the gun. Leave it there. I’ll stay nearby, just in case he tries to get rid of it.”
He had just enough time to leave the building and dash back to the safety of the hedge when his phone rang. He assumed it was Forbes calling to tune him in, so was pleasantly surprised to see Dez’s number on the screen.
“Hey, you okay?” Sully asked upon answering.
“Fine. Like I thought, cracked rib is now solidly broken. Luckily no punctured lung, though. Where are you?”
The answer was unlikely to go down well with Dez. “Uh….”
“Sully?”
“Standing behind a hedge at Montague’s.” He talked fast, before Dez could get in a word. “When you were here, did you see a small building down by the lake?”
“Yeah. What the hell are you up to? You’d better not be there alone.”
“I’m not. Raynor is talking to the judge now. Listen—”
“Raynor took you over there?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
“Now I’ve heard everything,” Dez said. “All right, what about this building?”
“I found a gun box inside that I’m thinking fits the key we found. Carter smashed it open for me. There was a handgun inside.”
“He smashed it open? How?”
“Probably the same way he sent that tree rolling and hurled rocks at Lars and Tessa. He’s a teenager. My guess is that means more residual energy than some adult ghosts.”
“Okay, moving on. You’re thinking this is the same gun Montague used to shoot Carter? Why would he have held onto it?”
“I don’t know. It looks kind of old, so could be sentimental reasons. Or more likely he planned on using it to set someone up if the body was ever found. I think he stole his wife’s rings so he could plant them.”
“How would the judge know where to find the cave? He was no spelunker.”
“He was tracking Tessa by GPS all this time. Would have been easy enough for him to find and mark her location, wouldn’t it?”
“Good point. So why go to all this work to plant them? You think he was setting her up?”
“He’s friends with one of the lawyers on the Devereaux lawsuit. He knew it was coming up for trial and his wife would be called to testify. He must have realized it would coincide with the Supreme Court selection process. It was likely to come out that his wife was messing around with Lars.”
“No offence to your theory, but doesn’t it only make things worse if his cheating wife is involved in a homicide?”
The possible solution flashed into Sully’s brain. “Not if he’s involved in solving the crime.”
“What?”
“Dez, he knew the whole Carter death was going to be dredged up. He knew questions would be asked all over again. Things could come out he didn’t want revealed, things that would have gotten in the way of his career prospects. There’s no way for him to hide his connection, given Tessa’s involvement, but he could salvage his reputation by making himself out to be a man who will do the right thing, no matter the cost. So he plots out a way to set up his wife and Lars, and he takes some extra steps by hiring Lachlan. I mean, why would a guilty man hire a private investigator to dig into his personal life? It suggests he’s got nothing to hide.”
“But it’s Lachlan,” Dez said. “Everyone knows the guy’s brain has got the bite of a great white shark. Nothing much gets past him.”
“Yeah, but this is Justice Prescott Montague. You never stop talking about how full of himself he is. If there’s anyone out there who would think he could outsmart Lachlan Fields, it’s him.”
Dez grunted. “Or maybe he knew he didn’t have to outsmart Lachlan. He only had to slip one past me. The attack on Lachlan was all over the news. I can’t imagine Montague missed it. He had to know Lachlan wouldn’t be handling the case himself. Goddammit.”
“Guess you get to put one over on him then, huh?”
“Only I’m stuck in the ER waiting on the all-clear to leave while Raynor is geared up to bust this thing open.”
“That was always the plan, Dez,” Sully said. “Someone needs to be charged with Carter’s murder. Only the police can do that.”
“I guess.”
Sully held the phone away from his ear as a ding indicated a text had come through. It was from Forbes. Judge didn’t bite. I have to leave. Hang tight. See what he does.
Sully raised his eyebrows. Forbes had to be desperate if he was asking Sully to run surveillance for him.
“Montague didn’t take the bait,” Sully told his brother. “Raynor’s leaving, and he wants me to keep an eye on the judge. I’m going to watch to see whether he goes near the gun.”
“Damn it, Sully, no. The guy’s already killed one person. If he gets near a gun and catches you in his path, he’s not going to react well. What exactly are you planning on doing if he goes near it?”
“I think I have an idea that won’t involve me confronting him directly,” Sully said. “Do you have his number on you?”
Half an hour passed, and the moon was visible in the evening sky when Montague finally emerged from the house.
Sully had expected the judge to head to the cottage sooner, but he suspected Montague might have waited to ensure Forbes was long gone before venturing out to check on the weapon. It was also possible Montague had simply been too unsettled to leave the house right away. After four years, he’d probably gotten comfortable, expecting he’d gotten away with it. To suddenly be confronted with this—and with a photo of the murder weapon, no less—had to be more than unnerving.
It had to be downright terrifying.
Montague stepped out the back door of the house, right shoulder toward the doorway as his head turned in all directions, no doubt searching for anyone who might be watching. He clicked on a flashlight, and Sully ducked farther into his place of concealment as the beam approached. The beam and Montague’s eyes travelled the length of the hedge surrounding the property. In the light from the house’s interior, Sully could make out the rueful expression, as if Montague had suddenly come to regret the greenery that might be concealing an enemy.
But there was nothing to be done about that now, and Montague continued on his way, eyes occasionally sweeping his surroundings as he headed toward the cottage on the manmade lake shore.
Only when he disappeared from sight did Sully dare to leave his spot behind the hedge. Keeping low, he jogged toward the back of the cottage, coming to a stop with his back flat against the rear wall. On this side, a window looked toward the main house, and Sully resisted temptation to peer through it. Instead, he removed the cell phone from his pocket and clicked on the camera function. Scrolling to video, he carefully raised the camera lens toward the window and pressed the record button. Craning his neck forward slightly, he was able to make out what was on the screen.
Montague had entered the cottage and was eyeing his surroundings through wild eyes. He appeared to spot the open box on the floor, and all of his focus honed in on that object—or rather the handgun next to it.
In two quick strides, the judge closed the distance between the door and the gun. Kneeling next to it, his fingers reached for the weapon, but he drew them back sharply before they could touch it.
Now seemed the time to shake Montague up even more.
Shifting over a little, Sully withdrew the phone from the window long enough to fire off a quick text.
Carter knows you killed him. And he showed me what
you did.
Toggling his phone back onto the camera function, Sully returned his handset to the window in time to record the judge, now standing, removing the phone from his pocket. That he'd spotted the text was obvious; eyes widened in a narrow face, jaw dropped, shoulders tensed, and the fingers holding the phone clenched.
He managed to type in a text of his own. Who is this?
Someone who knows, Sully returned.
In jerky motions, Montague returned the phone to his pocket and knelt back down. Sully recorded him as he placed the gun back inside its box and closed the lid. As the judge stood with box in hand, Sully sent another quick text—one he knew would shake the judge even further.
You aren’t thinking about getting rid of evidence, are you?
Sully knew he was taking a chance; he hadn't seen any bullets with the gun, but that wasn't to say there weren't some nearby.
What he hadn't counted on was the possibility of one in the chamber.
The crack of a gunshot coincided with the feel of an explosion next to him, of glass shards stabbing his face and neck. The window next to him had been blown apart, and Sully knew he would be next unless he moved fast.
As he sprinted from his place of concealment, Sully realized how wrong he’d been about the availability of ammunition. Two shots followed him as he ran, leaving him no opportunity to regain the shelter of the hedge.
The main house wasn't far, and Sully turned his attention to reaching it. But Montague, likely firing from the window of the cottage, had other plans.
Another shot rang out, this one tearing through the outside of Sully's left thigh, causing his leg to buckle beneath him. Forcing himself to his feet, he limped toward the edge of the house, knowing he'd make less of a target once he was flat against it.
A crash and a revving engine sounded from nearby and, a moment later, a car Sully recognized as Forbes’s ripped around the side of the house. The vehicle braked hard next to him, sending up a spray of gravel and sod.
“Get in!” Forbes yelled above Pax’s barking.