JOURNEY (THE CHASER CHRONICLES Book 2)

by John C. Dalglish

  “No need. There’ll be plenty of food. See you then, bye.”

  “Bye.” I hung up and dialed the station, hoping my mother’s cooking would smooth over any hard feelings from yesterday.

  “Homicide.”

  “Detective Myers, please.”

  A few clicks and she came on. “This is Detective Myers.”

  “Hey, Mandy. It’s me.”

  “Hey, Jack. What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner at Mom’s tonight?”

  “I’d love to, if I can get away. What time?”

  “Six, and you have to eat sometime.”

  She laughed. “I might disagree with that.”

  Mandy was always in good shape, and her figure was terrific, but you couldn’t tell her that. “Oh, come on. Mom’s making fettuccine.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I grinned into the phone, knowing she couldn’t resist Annie Carter’s Italian cooking. “You want me to pick you up?”

  “No. I’ll have to see how the rest of day goes and get away when I can.”

  “Okay, see you later at my mom’s.” I hung up, a smile still on my face, and returned to the article I was reading. It was always a good day when I got to see Mandy, especially when I wasn’t being questioned by Detective Myers!

  One paragraph was left in the news report:

  American Big-Top Tours has two performances remaining in St. Louis. Both afternoon matinees are scheduled for tomorrow, one at noon and the last at four.

  Two pictures of Burt Cummins accompanied the article. One pictured him in overalls and a t-shirt, standing next to a circus tent. The other was a portrait, probably for advertising and promotions, of him in his clown outfit.

  Now, clowns all look pretty much the same to me, at least at first glance. It figured Burt Cummins was my Runner, but I wouldn’t know for sure until I came in contact with him.

  It looked like I was going to the circus. Seems ironic, since lately my life feels like I’m walking a tightrope without a net!

  CHAPTER 7

  My mother’s home was in the northwest section of the city, on Marcus Avenue, an older section of the city. She’d bought the red-brick house with Dad nearly thirty years ago. The neighborhood has seen better days, but despite my concern for her safety, she refused to leave.

  I arrived just before six, parking on the street in front of the house. Something tickled at the edge of my Chaser senses, and as I came up the walk, it got much stronger.

  Turning and scanning the street, I caught a motion at the end of the block, and knew instantly who it is.

  Harbinger, what are you doing out here?

  I looked at my mom’s front door, then back at where I’d seen the Runner. Anger mixed with fear surged through me. I turned and ran for the end of the block.

  You son-of-a… You’re stalking my mother!

  Of course, other than my pistol, I didn’t have a weapon to fight with, at least not one that could do him any permanent harm. I saw a large black coat disappear around the far corner, and slowed to a walk. He’d seen me, and I wasn’t going to catch up with him.

  I continued on to the end of the block, making sure he had really left, before returning to my mother’s home. I’d accepted the personal danger of being a Chaser, but I’d never considered my family. They were supposed to be off limits.

  Back at mom’s door, I knocked, and let myself in. “Mom?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  The aroma in the house was fantastic. “Is that garlic bread I’m smelling?”

  She turned and gave me a hug as I came into the kitchen. “It is, and I baked the bread fresh earlier today.”

  I hadn’t seen Mandy’s car, but I asked anyway. “You hear from Mandy?”

  “Not yet. Is she coming?”

  “Supposedly. I mentioned your fettuccine and she was all in.”

  Less than ten minutes later, Mandy knocked at the door. Even though she was still in her uniform, she’d let her hair down, and put makeup on. As always, she looked great.

  Dinner consisted of the fettuccine, a fresh salad, and apple strudel. I was stuffed. “That was wonderful, Mom. Have you got any coffee?”

  “Thank you, and yes there’s coffee. It’ll be ready as soon as you make it.”

  I laughed and got up. “Fair enough. You want a cup, Mandy?”

  “Sounds good, although I don’t know if I have room for it, I made a pig of myself on the fettuccine. Dinner was awesome, as always, Annie.”

  “Thank you, Amanda.” She got up from the table. “Why don’t you and I await our coffee in the living room?”

  I gathered up the dessert plates. “It will be my privilege to serve you, ladies.”

  Taking the plates and setting them in the sink, I grabbed the coffee pot, rinsed it, and began filling it. My senses started to kick into gear again, and when I looked through the kitchen window, I could see a figure in the alley behind the house.

  Staring intently, I forgot what I was doing, and the pot overflowed.

  “Dang it!”

  I shut the water off, and when I looked up again, he was gone. Fear for my mother mixed with anger at Harbinger.

  You coward! Targeting those least able to defend themselves.

  I pondered whether I would call him a coward to his face. Probably better to keep my mouth shut and carry a big stick, or in this case, a blessed sword.

  A few minutes later, the coffee was done and I loaded three cups onto a tray. Mom was laughing as I came into the room. “That’s my son!”

  I set the tray down and doled out the cups. “My ears are burning. What insults have I suffered in my absence?”

  Mandy smiled. “I was just telling your mom that you tend to pop up in the most unlikely places, at the least likely times.”

  “My way of keeping you on your toes, Detective.”

  “I see. Like yesterday, at Journey Chapel, I’m working a homicide. I get a call on the radio saying a Jack Carter is here.” She rolled her eyes at my mother. “And I’m thinking, what in the world?”

  Mom was intrigued. “You were working a homicide at a church?”

  “Yeah.” Mandy’s smile disappeared. “It was difficult. A young pastor was ambushed in his car.”

  “That’s awful. Do you know who did it?”

  “Not yet.”

  I sipped my coffee. “Did you get a report back on the video tape?”

  “Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with the tape. The guy’s image just isn’t there, getting in or out. We can see the car doors open and close, but no person.”

  “Maybe he had a Romulan cloaking device?”

  Mandy allowed herself a smile at my joke, but she didn’t like loose ends, and the video had them in spades. “It’s weird. We went to the pastor’s home and found nothing.”

  “No diary, no notes, nothing?”

  She shook her head. “Nobody we talked to can even come up with a name we should investigate.”

  Mom was sympathetic. “I imagine some cases are tougher than others, but I know this, you can solve it if anyone can.”

  Mandy was genuinely touched. “Thanks, Annie. I appreciate that.”

  I was thinking the same thing, and that was the problem. This was one case I wished she wasn’t on.

  During our second cup of coffee, Mandy mentioned someone on the police force had asked her out. “What do you think, Jack?”

  It had always been our habit to assist with each other’s love dilemmas. Unfortunately, I couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t, discuss my feelings for her. “I don’t know anything about him, so I’m afraid I can’t be much help on this one.”

  Mom was aware of how I felt about Mandy, and was always pushing me to fess up. Meanwhile, she discouraged Mandy from dating whenever she could. Mom thought Mandy felt the same way as I did.

  I wasn’t convinced.

  Annie Carter definitely had some advice, and she wasn’t hesitant to share it. “You know what they say about workpla
ce romances, Amanda.”

  Mandy appeared to take the advice seriously. “Yeah, I’m kinda worried about that.”

  I was left unsure if she was going to accept the date or not. I’d find out soon enough.

  CHAPTER 8

  I’d slept in, and looking at my watch, I figured how much time my trip out to the circus would take. Deciding I had a few extra minutes, I planned a stop at the office, but I needed to get moving.

  I dressed in my usual investigating outfit. Black Dockers, Reebocks, and a black bomber jacket over a white t-shirt. Mandy said I looked like a cross between James Dean and Johnny Cash. The all-black look had helped hide me more than once, so I stuck with it.

  At six feet even and two hundred pounds, I wasn’t an imposing figure. The outfit made me look a little tougher than I was.

  Going outside, I searched the area from my front step, looking for any sign of Harbinger. I didn’t sense or see him.

  He’s probably off stalking a group of small school children!

  My bravado concealed the real fear that the Runner might be after one of my family. I needed to talk to Buddy. There must be something I could do to protect them when I wasn’t around.

  I locked the door, fired up the Ranchero, and headed for the office.

  *******

  From the office, I returned a few phone calls and confirmed the time of Brother Timmons’s funeral. It was scheduled for tomorrow morning, and I was to be a pallbearer. I needed a suit.

  If she isn’t on a date, maybe Mandy can help me pick one out.

  The circus was set up not far from Creve Coeur Park in Northwest St. Louis. The first show was scheduled for noon and I arrived forty-five minutes early. My plan, such as it was, involved moving around the various tents and trailers. I would try to pick up the sense of a Runner nearby, and then hopefully identify him.

  Tucked in my belt was my wood sword, made from the Cedars of Lebanon and blessed with the power of a Chaser. Hanging around my neck was a large cross, made of the same wood and blessed with the same power.

  Many times, a Runner had several places he might go. Their run was triggered by strong emotion, which usually meant family and friends, or enemies. All of which Burt Cummins would likely find here at the big top. It had been his life for twenty-six years.

  Love, revenge, hate, unfinished words, or unfinished deeds. Those are the things that drove a Runner to make contact with the life they’ve lost. But the desire to contact, which put the ones they cared about at risk, had to be thwarted. My calling was to find them before they do irreversible damage.

  The living can have no knowledge, other than what they learn from scripture, of the afterlife. If they receive proof, it changes their decision from one of faith and the heart to one of intelligence and mind.

  That proof condemns them to death, because salvation comes by faith and faith alone.

  Slipping under a barricade, I made my way down the row of trailers that serve as the performers’ homes. None of the trailers was very large, and all showed the wear and tear from years on the road. These trailers were their makeup and dressing rooms, their kitchens, bedrooms, classrooms and more, all packed into eight-by-fourteen-foot shells.

  Clothes hung on the back of lawn chairs, drying in the sun. Children’s toys were scattered randomly, as if they were left suspended in the middle of playtime. Muddy trails, to and from the big-top, had formed from the steady foot traffic over the last week.

  A Runner slowly gains power over time, but I figured Burt Cummins hadn’t reached the point where he could make himself visible, and therefore hadn’t yet contacted the person he came back to see.

  When a Runner first takes off, he is purely spirit, unable to interact with the world he’s in. The longer they remain on Earth, they begin to gain an understanding of the world around them, and start to gather strength.

  Usually, they begin by being able to move things, but eventually, they learn to transform into physical beings, and can walk among the living. The Chaser mustn’t let that happen.

  I’d almost reached the end of trailer row when I came upon an older-looking blue unit, the door padlocked, and sprays of flowers placed on the ground all along the base. Some still had ribbons declaring ‘Rest in Peace.’ The publicity photo I’d seen in the newspaper was taped to the outside of the door. This had to be Burt’s trailer.

  I moved carefully around back, looking for the clown, but my senses were telling me he wasn’t here. I went from trailer row to the big-top tent and circled around the outside, trying to get a vibe on whether Burt was inside. Still no sign of him.

  The carnival midway was my last stop, and despite seeing several clowns, none of them was my Runner. The noon show was in full swing, and when I returned to the trailers, performers were now coming and going in a steady stream.

  Though I watched carefully, I couldn’t find him among the other clowns. He would have been easy to spot, since he’d be the only clown no one talked to, or even noticed.

  He’s just not here. Could I have misjudged? Is it possible there is somewhere else he wanted to be? If he’s not here, then where?

  I decided it was time to do some real sleuthing. I’d assumed this assignment would be a piece of cake, but I may have put people in danger by not doing things the right way.

  I left the circus grounds and headed back to my office. I’d missed something, and now I had to find out what it was before someone’s path was changed forever.

  *******

  I looked at my watch. Even though it was nearly seven in the evening, I hadn’t eaten, and I wasn’t really hungry. I’d spent four and a half hours scouring through news reports, the Big-Top Tours website, dozens of clown Facebook pages, and anyplace else I could think to check.

  So far, I couldn’t find any connection between Burt Cummins and the world outside the circus. He’d been married to the same woman for over twenty-five years, and the only address he’d had besides a post-office box, was a very old one in Kansas City.

  Wait, Kansas City. That’s where Mandy spent her first few years as a cop.

  I picked up the phone and dialed her number. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Mandy. It’s me.”

  “Hey, Jack. What’s up?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Oh, Jack! You never call just to talk to me anymore.”

  I was caught off guard. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Of course.” She laughed knowing she’d got one over on me. “What’s this favor you need?”

  “In your time on the K.C. police force, did you make a connection with any of the reporters at the Kansas City Star?”

  “Not really, except for Danny.”

  I hadn’t heard the name Danny before, and a twinge of jealousy tickled around my neck. “Who’s Danny?”

  “He worked the city night desk. We’d occasionally have coffee in the morning when I worked night patrol.”

  “I guess I don’t remember you mentioning him before.”

  “No, probably not. He was just a friend, nothing serious.”

  My pulse slowed slightly. “Oh.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  Focus, Jack! You sound like a schoolboy.

  “I need someone to do a search for me, and if I could use your name, I might have more luck getting it done in less than a week.”

  “Okay. His name is Danny Unser, and I believe he’s still there, although not on the night desk. Tell him I told you to call.”

  “Thanks, Mandy. You’re the best.”

  “I know. See you at the funeral tomorrow?”

  I was surprised. “You going?”

  “Yes, in an official capacity. Killers sometimes attend their victims’ funeral.”

  “I’ve heard that, which reminds me, Can you help me pick out a suit?”

  “Sure, but doesn’t your mother have a closet full of your dad’s suits?”

  “Of course, good idea. Thanks, see you tomorrow.”

  I hung up, made a mental note
to call Mom, then searched for the Kansas City Star on Google.

  How did we function before Google?

  I found the number, called, and got a recording. “Thank you for calling the Kansas City Star. Your call is important to us…” I faded out while the thing rambled on, and when it asked me to push a number, I punched zero. “Please wait while I connect you to the next available operator.”

  I was treated to standard elevator music while I waited my turn. Within just a couple minutes, I heard a female voice. “Thank you for calling the Star. How can I help you?”

  “Hello. I’m looking for Danny Unser.”

  “Very well, sir. I’ll ring you through to his desk, and if he is not available, you’ll be put through to his voicemail.”

  “That’s fine and thank you.”

  Again some music, then a couple clicks, and finally a voice. “Danny Unser.”

  “Yes, Mr. Unser, my name is Jack Carter. I got your name from Amanda Myers.”

  “Mandy Myers, boy I haven’t heard that name in a while. How is she?”

  “Good. She made detective.”

  “I’m not surprised. Not only was she cute, but she was smart.”

  That twinge of jealously returned. “She’s one of the best.”

  “You got that right. How can I help you, Jack?”

  “I’m a P.I. in St. Louis, and I’m working a case. I have a name and address from over fifteen years ago, and I need somebody to run them down for me. I want to know if any newspaper articles, or other records, surfaced about my guy around the time he had this address.”

  “Sure, Jack. Be glad to do it. Probably be tomorrow before I can get back to you.”

  “That’s fine.” I gave him Burt’s name and address, along with my office number. “If I’m not in, leave a message.”

  “Will do, and say hi to Mandy for me. Tell her to give me a call some time.”

  “I will.” I was hoping he couldn’t hear the reluctance in my voice. “Bye, and thanks.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Black cloth hung draped over every entrance to Journey Chapel. Dark, ominous clouds matched the mood shared by the mourners who streamed into the main sanctuary. The sadness on their faces was mixed with fear, as they wondered who did this, and why.