by G. R. Lyons
Ryley caught him staring, and flashed him a cheeky grin. “You have no idea how much I've missed this.”
Vic scowled. “Smelly corpses?”
Ryley shrugged. “Being home, doing my job, something I'm good at. It's like life finally makes sense again, you know?”
Vic grunted. Ryley had a point. He couldn't imagine being dragged away from his life and his purpose for months on end. He'd go out of his mind.
“The only thing that doesn't make sense,” Ryley went on, shooting him a look, his tone a little too teasing, “is the fact that you are still single.”
Vic rolled his eyes. “I thought we went over this.”
“Yeah, but, babe…” Ryley typed a few more words into his report, then spun his chair to face Vic. “I gotta be honest: I figured you'd be practically married by now.”
Vic raised an eyebrow. “We dated for six years and never talked about getting married.”
“Yeah, well…” Ryley floundered for a moment, then shrugged. “We knew we weren't gonna work.”
Vic nodded. That much was true. It had just taken them both way too long to concede the point.
“I just can't believe you haven't found the right guy yet,” Ryley said.
Vic shrugged, but before he could come up with a response, his computer pinged a notification, the sound somehow ominous, tearing his attention away from the conversation. He glanced at his screen, intending to set the notification aside for later, but the date on the case alert caught his eye. 12 Soldis 3578? That was almost nineteen years ago.
Vic clicked on the alert to open the case file: a two-year-old boy who'd gone missing from the local hospital when his mother had gone into the emergency room, where she died from a gunshot wound. The boy had also been mildly injured, leaving his blood on the mother's clothes. That little DNA sample was the only identification they had for the boy. His mother had been identified from past hospital records, but her file showed no living relatives, and neither her DNA nor the boy's showed up in any other insurance database available at the time, which wasn't exactly unheard-of: Some people just liked living as anonymously as possible. The agent who'd originally been in charge of the case noted that he'd searched multiple times, but never found any other records. The missing boy had never been identified beyond an anonymous birth record and his DNA making him his mother's son, and no trace of him had ever been found since.
Vic clicked the alert again. Their computer system had automatically brought up the old case when a DNA match flagged in a new case. Vic checked the new case and sat back, stunned. It was the medical examiner's report for the body Ryley had recovered yesterday.
According to the report, the deceased man—one Dr. Bryce Ahriman—had skin under his fingernails and traces of blood and fecal matter in his pubic hair. When those samples had been run through the company's database, they linked to the only match the system could find.
A boy missing for nineteen years.
“Ryley–” Vic called, not even tearing his eyes away from his screen.
His voice must have been less steady than he thought because Ryley darted to his side rather than just answering back. “What's wrong?”
Vic gave Ryley a quick glance, then stared at the case notes again, old and new side-by-side on his screen. “Was there anyone else living in that house you went to yesterday?”
“No.” Ryley shook his head. “No, the guy lived alone. Haven't even found a next of kin yet to notify. I'm gonna have a hell of a time working out his inheritance clause with no heirs to track down.”
Vic pointed at his screen. “He had someone else's DNA on him.”
“Whose?” Ryley asked, bending closer and scanning the screen. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “A missing kid? And what's–” Ryley scrolled through the DNA profile generated from the samples collected during the autopsy. “You don't think…No, it couldn't be.”
“Couldn't be what?” Vic asked.
Ryley frowned, thinking, then shook his head. “I was gonna say…blood in his pubic hair…Maybe the doctor raped him, and the kid fought back? Killed him? Except the scene was clearly an accident, and the M.E.'s report–” He nodded with his chin at the screen. “No indication that it was murder. The guy just choked on his dinner and died of asphyxiation.”
“Wait…” Vic turned to the deceased's file and clicked on the client history attached to it. He scanned Dr. Ahriman's personal details: name, home address, place of work. “Holy shit.” He switched to the cold case and pointed at the screen. “Your dead doctor worked at the hospital where this kid was taken from.”
Ryley stared back at him. “You don't think…All this time…”
Vic nodded. He was sure Ryley was thinking what Vic himself was thinking.
“We have to go back to that house.”
Chapter 3
VIC GOT into Ryley's car and immediately switched on his tablet. Ryley had already been to the scene, so he knew where they were going, leaving Vic free to study the case file along the way.
“You're sure there was no one else living in the house?” Vic asked again.
Ryley nodded, focusing on the road as he made a turn. “Granted, we only gave the house a cursory glance. Mostly focused on the body. But there weren't any obvious signs of anyone else living there.”
“Hmmm.” Vic scanned the case notes and medical examiner's report again, then went over the deceased client's insurance policy. There was nothing in it to indicate Dr. Ahriman had any dependents or cohabitants, but that didn't mean there weren't any in existence. It would hardly be the first time Vic had come across a client who had a policy that only covered the policyholder, leaving his or her cohabitants to purchase their own insurance or security policies, even though they occupied the same residence.
On that thought, Vic ran an inter-agency search on the address they were going to see. No results came up to indicate that anyone else held a policy tied to that house, but it could very well be that there was a policy out there belonging to a company that didn't participate in the sharing of information.
They'd just have to wait and see for themselves.
Ryley pulled his car to a stop and switched it off. “We're here.”
Vic switched off his tablet screen, removed his restraint, and got out of the car, scanning the front of the house. “Gods.” The place was huge. “Guy did well for himself.”
Ryley snorted. “Wait 'til you see inside.” He paused, then said, “Fair warning: It'll probably still smell like death in there.”
Vic grimaced, and gave a tight nod.
Ryley waved his agency passkey at the electronic lock, and the front door opened. Vic went in first, checking all around the entryway, before Ryley followed and shut the door behind them.
“Clear,” Vic said.
Ryley nodded, activated the door lock so no one could come in after them, and went on to the next room. “Clear,” he called over his shoulder.
They checked the whole main floor, clearing every room, then stopped to listen. There was no sound from upstairs, but they went to check anyway, just to be sure, giving each room enough of a glance to determine there was no person to be found.
Ryley trudged back downstairs, and Vic followed, frowning at his tablet. The blood on the doctor's body tested fresh enough that it had to have gotten there shortly before his death, and there was no indication that anyone had left the house in the days the medical examiner had determined the man had been dead before he'd been found. So the boy had to still be there.
But there was no sign of him.
“Maybe we should look again,” Vic said, glancing around. “Under a bed, or in a closet, or…”
Ryley shook his head. “If there's someone else here, you'd think there'd be a sign. You know…something moved, or…Hells…” He darted into the kitchen, and Vic followed, but Ryley just stopped and shook his head. “Food out, dirty dishes, something. But there's nothing here.”
Vic clenched his jaw. Damn it. He wanted to find this kid,
assuming the boy had ever actually been in the house. Maybe the doctor had gotten the blood somewhere else, then come home and died? He checked the house's alarm logs again, and muttered a curse. That was most likely the case. The last time the front door had been opened was just a few hours prior to the estimated time of death. The kid must be somewhere else.
But Vic had a gut feeling that the kid had to be there.
“There's gotta be something we're missing,” Vic muttered, looking around. He gave Ryley a sideways glance. “There's not some sort of…spell or something you can use, is there?”
Ryley started to laugh, then tilted his head, thinking about it. “Huh. Maybe, but…if there is…I don't know of it.” He paused. “I could jump over to Jadu'n. Find Master Ross and ask him and come right back.”
Vic blinked. “You can do that?”
“Sure.” Ryley grinned. “After learning to transport objects, it didn't take much to learn how to transport myself.”
Vic slowly shook his head. He wasn't sure he actually wanted to see Ryley simply vanish before his eyes.
“Well?” Ryley asked.
“Well what?”
Ryley gestured at the room. “Do your thing.”
Vic blinked, then slowly scanned the room. Ryley was right. Vic's gut was telling him the boy was in the house somewhere. He just had to go with his instincts. There had to be something they'd missed.
Closing his eyes, Vic took a deep breath, then looked around again. He crept upstairs, Ryley keeping several paces behind so as to stay out of his way, and checked each room one more time, looking under the beds, in the closets and cupboards, checking the ceiling for any sort of attic access, and finally knocking on walls and even checking the floorboards, just in case. The trail felt cold, somehow, so he went back downstairs and checked over the main level the same way.
The boy wasn't hiding behind any furniture, and there wasn't a single locked room in the house. He wasn't in a closet or cupboard. Vic was about to give up and check the backyard for any outbuildings when he walked past a bookcase and jerked to a stop.
“Vic?”
Vic held up a hand, asking Ryley for silence as he scanned the wall. Something about it didn't feel right. He paced slowly to the end of the bookcases, then around the corner, where a short hallway led into the kitchen. A doorway at the other end of the kitchen led to a small breakfast nook, which opened up into the other end of the living room, allowing him to loop around to where he'd started.
He stopped and stared at the bookcases again.
“What is it?” Ryley asked.
Vic tilted his head. “This wall,” he said, holding out both arms with his hands spread as wide as the bookcase right before him. On the other side, that section of wall stuck out too far in the kitchen with nothing to account for it doing so.
He took a step forward and felt all around, shoving books aside, tugging on shelves, rising and ducking to see above and below eye-level.
Ryley chuckled. “Babe, what are you doing?”
Vic reached under a shelf, sliding his hands all around, and felt a small, metal handle.
He breathed a laugh. “A bookcase.”
“What?” Ryley asked.
Vic looked over at him. “Do you remember that story Zac told us when he was studying Will Knightley in Music Appreciation?”
Ryley snorted a laugh. “When was he not studying Will Knightley? I swear, Zac was obsessed. Fanboying all over a dead guy.”
Vic raised an eyebrow. “I seem to recall you being a rather big fan of that dead guy.”
“Yeah, his music,” Ryley scoffed, then rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine. So he was hot. But his music was incredible. Come on, you love it, too–”
Vic shot Ryley a look.
“Sorry,” Ryley muttered, chuckling. “Focus. Got it.”
“Anyway,” Vic said, “Zac said Knightley's family owned some land with an old Ceynesian estate that got torn apart in the Breaking of the World. When they explored the ruins, his brother seemed to just vanish, until he realized there was a hidden passage. Apparently, the Ceynesians were big on those, especially the nobility.”
Ryley nodded slowly. “And…”
“And all of Morbran City is modeled after the Ceynesian architecture that originally stood here just prior to the Breaking.”
Ryley frowned. “I don't get it.”
In answer, Vic tugged on the handle, and one side of the bookcase popped forward about an inch.
Ryley gasped. “Holy shit.”
They shared a look, then both pulled out their guns, turning aside to bracket the hidden doorway. Ryley gave a nod and pulled the door the rest of the way open while Vic whirled toward the opening, aiming into darkness.
“Vic,” Ryley whispered. He nodded at the side panel of the bookcase, now exposed with the door open.
Vic found a light switch there, and flicked it on, flooding the hidden basement with light, though he still couldn't see anything from that angle. He started to creep down the stairs, then stopped when the stench hit him.
“Gods,” he gagged, backing into the living room.
“What–” Ryley began to ask, then jerked back, wrinkling his nose. “Oh.” He peeked in again, then pulled back. “Doesn't smell like death, but…I'll go look first.”
Vic gave him a grateful nod. If there was a body down there, Vic didn't want to have any part of it. That was Ryley's area of expertise.
Ryley held his gun ready, just in case, and crept down the stairs while Vic waited, grimacing as the stench continued to spread.
“Shit,” Ryley muttered. Vic peeked down, but he couldn't see much more than Ryley's legs. “There's a body,” he called. “Male. Young. Probably…fourteen? Fifteen?”
Vic closed his eyes and sighed. Gods damn it all. He did not want to see another dead kid.
Then he heard Ryley gasp. “V-Vic!” Ryley called, his voice a strangled cry. “He's alive!”
Vic holstered his gun and flew down the stairs. He breezed past Ryley, who was backing away, his eyes wide and his face pale. Vic might not be able to handle death, but Ryley couldn't handle suffering, especially when it came to kids.
And as Vic approached the body, he was sure it was a kid. Slim and short, the boy couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen at the absolute most, if he had to guess. Which meant this couldn't be the boy they were looking for. Of course, that wasn't going to stop him. Vic had a chance to rescue someone, and he was damned well going to do it.
Ryley whimpered. “Vic–” He jabbed a finger, and Vic looked at where he was pointing. The boy was collared and chained to a pipe in the wall.
“Shit.” Vic crouched down and carefully rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, afraid to move him in case he was injured. He lay facing away from Vic, his knees drawn up, arms curled in against his chest, though his whole body was limp. The kid was breathing, but it was shallow, and when Vic checked the boy's pulse, he found it weak and erratic. If the boy had been trapped down in that basement for at least three days—ever since the doctor had died—he had to be severely dehydrated. “Ryley, give me your lock picks and go get him some water.”
“Water, right, water,” Ryley muttered, pulling his lock pick set from his pocket and tossing it over before he bolted back up the stairs.
Vic made quick work of the lock, getting the collar off the boy and gently rubbing his chaffed skin.
“Hey there, champ,” Vic murmured, brushing the boy's hair out of his eyes. The hair was greasy from a few days without washing, his skin was dry, his lips were chapped, and his backside and legs were streaked with excrement—Vic had spotted the boy's waste over in the corner, about as far as the boy could probably go with the limitations of the chain—but the boy was alive, and that was all that mattered.
Even if he was so painfully reminiscent of Cam.
Shit. Vic needed to pull himself together before Ryley came back down.
The boy let out a low whine.
“Easy,” Vic wh
ispered. “It's alright, champ. We're gonna get you out of here.”
The boy whimpered, his eyes slowly opening halfway before drooping shut again.
Ryley's footsteps were loud as he clambered back down the stairs. “Here,” he panted, thrusting a cup of water into Vic's hand.
“Thanks.” Vic bent over the boy. “Hey, kiddo,” he murmured. “Have some water.”
Another weak whimper sounded, but the boy didn't move.
Vic set the cup on the floor, dipped his fingers into the water, and touched the boy's chapped lips. He dipped his fingers again, then gently pressed into the boy's mouth, hoping the touch of water on his tongue would rouse him sufficiently so he could sit up and take a proper drink.
But still the boy didn't move.
“We need to get him to the hospital now,” Vic said.
“Right.” Ryley nodded rapidly. “One sec.” He darted away, hurrying up the stairs. Vic heard him race for the front of the house, his footsteps thundering overhead. Maybe the poor man needed a second to breathe before they faced getting the kid to the hospital.
Vic dipped his fingers in the water again and touched the drops to the boy's tongue. It was hardly the most efficient way to go about it, but he had to do something.
Maybe it would be safe to move the boy. Without a scanner, there'd be no way to know if the boy had any internal injuries, but with memories of Cam fresh in his mind, Vic was afraid to shift the boy at all, worried that he might suffer worse because of it.
He dripped more water into the boy's mouth, then heard Ryley's footsteps thunder overhead again before the man raced back down the stairs.
“Here,” Ryley gasped, shoving a blanket into Vic's hands while also nudging Vic out of the way. Vic stumbled and caught his balance, then saw Ryley waving a scanner wand over the kid's body.
“Good thinking,” Vic said, then asked, “You couldn't just…magic that here from the car?”
“I'm kinda freaking out here.”
Shit. Vic grabbed Ryley's shoulder. “I'm sorry, Ry. Just breathe, yeah? It's gonna be alright.”
Ryley gave him a grim look, clearly unsettled by being so near a suffering kid, but he took a deep breath and got through it, finishing the scan. The scanner wand beeped, and Ryley checked the readout. “No broken bones, no obvious signs of internal bleeding.” He looked at Vic. “He should be safe to move.”