Chief Walcott stood silently with his arms crossed, his lips pursed pensively as the Tech looked over the worn out pale blue Camero parked in front of him.
‘Well, we’ll take samples to be sure if you want Chief but I have to say I think Brody is right, there is no damage or evidence to suggest any impact with the victim.’
‘Check the whole car.’
‘Sorry?’ the tech frowned.
‘Check the whole car inside and out,’ he repeated.
‘What exactly am I looking for?’ He frowned in confusion, ‘The report said it was a suspected front impact incident. Why would there be any evidence inside?’
‘I want you to look for any physical evidence that Adam Miller was in that car.’
‘Adam?’ He looked surprised.
‘Just do your job,’ The Chief glared at him coldly ‘and make sure you keep your mouth shut, you report directly to me.’
‘Yes Sir,’ he swallowed tightly, turning back to the car and opening his kit.
‘Chief,’ Jake’s voice echoed slightly across the underground garage.
Chief Walcott turned towards his deputy, noting the way Jake’s eyes darted towards Olivia’s car causing his jaw to tense angrily.
‘A word if you don’t mind,’ Jake forced the words out between clenched teeth.
‘My office.’
Jake followed behind silently as he made his way back to his office and clicked the door shut behind them. Rounding his over piled desk he sat down unobtrusively and propped his elbows on the desk, lacing his fingers together and regarding Jake with serious eyes.
‘Is there a problem deputy?’
‘Yes there’s a problem, you have no right to keep Olivia’s car.’
‘I have every right,’ he replied calmly, ‘she was involved in an incident. I am simply being thorough.’
‘You’re not going to find what you’re looking for.’ Jake replied
‘And what exactly is that?’
‘You’re looking for evidence that Adam was in that car.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Olivia had nothing to do with the murder.’
‘You’re so sure of that are you?’ His eyes narrowed as he studied Jake. ‘By your own admission you haven’t seen or spoken to this woman in over twenty years. You really think you know her, know what she is capable of.’
‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Jake answered, ‘But the fact remains the only thing tying her to the murder is that fact she met Adam the night of his abduction and that she happened to live close to the body’s dump site. That’s not enough to make her a murderer.’
‘Maybe I’m just working a hunch?’
‘Maybe you’re punishing her for her father’s sins.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Jake slung the manila envelope down on his desk.
‘The autopsy results, Adam’s bones were removed just like the murders in the summer of ‘94.’
The Chief’s face closed up immediately as his fingers curled around the envelope.
‘Was Olivia’s father a suspect in the original murders?’ Jake pressed as he leaned forwards on the edge of the desk.
‘That is none of your business,’ he replied carefully.
‘Excuse me?’ Jake frowned.
‘You are no longer working the Adam Miller case;’ he leaned back in his seat comfortably, ‘your friendship with Miss West compromises your objectivity.’
‘And your obsession with her father compromises your objectivity.’
‘Be very careful deputy or I may just add a suspension for insubordination.’ He warned.
Jake straightened up, his jaw clenching as he glared back at the Chief.
‘If that is all Sir, my shift is over.’
He nodded as Jake walked back out of the door and clicked it closed behind him, fighting the immature urge to slam it like a surly teenager who’d just been grounded. Raking his hand through his hair in frustration, an unconscious gesture he often did, he blew out a deep breath.
Things were worse than he thought, the Chief seemed fixated on Olivia and this connection to an old case just seemed to make matters worse. He needed get a look at the original case files somehow but in the meantime he had a bad feeling about Olivia, he knew deep down in his gut the Chief was not going to let it go and he needed to make sure she was protected. He glanced at his watch and with a sigh he pulled out his phone and scrolled through to the number he wanted. After several rings he was about to hang up when a sleep roughened voice answered.
‘Hey Erica,’ Jake spoke softly, ‘I’m sorry about calling so late but I need a favour…’
Olivia stood looking down at the unconscious face of the guy she hit with her car, resisting the urge to reach out and stroke his face with her fingertips. He was extremely good looking, in his early thirties if she had to guess. His dark brown hair was the colour of bitter chocolate and a bit too long so it would hit the collar of his shirt and curl slightly at the ends. Wondering what colour his eyes were she tilted her head unconsciously as she studied his profile.
‘He’s going to be okay you know.’
Olivia turned in the direction of the familiar voice.
‘Is he?’
Louisa nodded.
‘He’s stable and responding well to treatment, but there’s something you need to know.’
‘What?’
‘You didn’t hit him with your car’ Louisa told her gently.
‘Sorry, what?’ Olivia repeated in confusion.
‘You stopped in time; he simply collapsed from injuries he’d already sustained.’
‘What sort of injuries?’
‘As far as I can make out he was caught in some sort of fire, as well as being in a fight. He had some bruising to his face and jaw which look like they were made by a fist, a stab wound to his forearm and burns and smoke inhalation.’
‘Then how the hell did he end up in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a road, in the middle of the night?’ Olivia frowned thoughtfully.
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’ Louisa shrugged, ‘I did tell the Chief you weren’t responsible for his injuries.’
‘Chief Walcott was here?’ Olivia replied with a sigh, ‘that’s just great.’
‘It’ll be okay,’ Louisa placed her hand comfortingly on her friend’s shoulder as they both stared at the sleeping guy in front of them, ‘Jake will straighten it all out,’
‘Yes I will,’
They both turned as Jake stepped back into the room.
‘Come on Olive,’ He held out his hand, ‘I’ll get you home.’
Nodding she took his hand and allowed him to lead her out of the room and through the maze of corridors to the front entrance.
‘Where’s my car Jake? She asked as they stepped out into the cold night air.
She felt rather than saw his body tense beside her as he turned to look at her.
‘It’s at the station,’
‘Why?
‘It had to be checked for evidence,’ he replied evasively.
‘But I thought Louisa told the Chief I didn’t actually hit the guy?’
‘She did,’
‘So what is he looking…’ She trailed off as the pieces fell into place. ‘He’s taking the opportunity to check my car over for evidence in Adam’s murder isn’t he?’
‘Olive,’ Jake shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
‘It’s okay,’ she sighed in frustration, ‘it's not your fault; first he took my clothes and my coat, now he’s taking my God Damn car,’
‘I’m so sorry Olive.’
‘Well it’s not as if he’s going to find anything,’ She retorted angrily, ‘I don’t suppose you know when I’m going to get it back do you?’
‘I’m working on it.’
Olivia turned her face up to the night sky and sucked in a deep cleansing breath as she looked to the stars.
‘I knew I shouldn’t have c
ome back to Mercy.’ she whispered.
‘Don’t say that,’ Jake tugged on her hand forcing her to once again meet his gaze, ‘Louisa and I are glad you’re back.’
‘Thanks,’ she answered sincerely.
‘Come on let’s get you home,’
He tugged her away from the entrance towards the parking lot. An ambulance pulled slowly in towards the emergency bay. She froze in her tracks as her eyes momentarily locked with the pale haired man from outside the pub the night Adam disappeared. The ambulance crossed her line of vision and once it had passed he was gone.
‘Olivia what is it?’ Jake asked in concern.
‘I thought I saw…’ she frowned shaking her head, ‘Nothing, its fine. I just want to go home.’
Jake nodded as he pulled her towards his police cruiser.
She said nothing of the man she thought she saw; maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe she was just imagining it, but she knew what it felt like to be accused of something you didn’t do and she wouldn’t wish that on anyone. She hoped it was just paranoia brought on by stress.
Chapter 7.
The Morley Ridge psychiatric facility was one of the few remaining Victorian era sanatoriums left. A dark imposing sort of building it was rumoured to have had a very unsavoury past and an alarmingly high death toll. It had been spared the fate of many of its contemporaries, whereas most of them had simply been left as rotting abandoned buildings and the birthplaces of many an urban legend, Morley Ridge had been re-purposed, refitted and dragged wailing mournfully into the 21st century. Despite its modern face-lift it still retained an air of foreboding and was generally regarded as a chilling unwelcoming sort of place, not that Davis paid much mind.
He strolled through the security checks with the supremely unconcerned air of a man with a singular purpose. He signed the visitors log with an efficient practicality and waited patiently before the metal bars of the interior security door. Brushing an imaginary piece of lint from his crisp grey suit he waited patiently as security checked through his briefcase. Seemingly satisfied the guard snapped the lid closed and handed it back to him. Davis nodded in acknowledgment as the door buzzed and another guard ushered him through into a sparse white corridor.
He set off down the familiar corridor at a brisk pace and was shown into a small visiting room. Stepping through the doorway his penetrating gaze missed nothing. The room was small and sparse, with plain white walls and a barred window letting in the pale early morning light. A metal table sat in the middle of the room bolted to the floor as were two the two metal chairs placed either side. One was empty, the other was not.
Davis looked at Charles Connell with a neutral expression, noting the lurid orange jumpsuit, the neatly tied white canvas sneakers and white sports socks. His ankles were chained to the seat as were his wrists. His nails were clean and neatly trimmed as was his deep brown hair which was greying at the temples. Despite the fact he had been the unwilling guest of several mental institutions over the past twenty years he had not aged as badly as one might think. His face was freshly shaved and his skin a smooth and pleasing colour, not the pallid sickly complexion of someone who barely saw the outside of his cage.
All in all Charles Connell had endured his captivity well, with one minor inconvenience. Charles’s head drooped to one side, his mouth hanging open silently as his eyes rolled to the side and stared unseeingly at the wall.
‘You couldn’t have waited to medicate him until after I had spoken with him?’ Davis spoke directly to the guard, his face hard and his voice full of censure.
The guard smirked and shrugged his shoulders as he tugged at the belt tucked under his paunch.
‘It was the Doc’s call.’
‘I see,’ Davis’s eyes narrowed.
‘I’ll be outside the door when you’re done, I guess it won’t take long.’ He smirked again and headed towards the door.
Placing his briefcase down on the table in front of him he unbuttoned his jacket and sat at the table. He didn’t move just sat watching patiently.
The guard snorted in amusement and slammed the door behind him.
For several moments they sat in silence, the room still broken only by the monotonous tick of the wall mounted clock.
Slowly Charles’s eyes rotated towards Davis, his gaze no longer blank but sharp and focused. He straightened in his chair and closed his mouth, his tongue moving in his cheek, slightly distending it before he blew out an elegant breath, and a small white capsule was expelled from his parted lips landing on the table between them.
Davis looked down at the pill and then back up to Charles.
‘Good morning Charles,’ he spoke softly his voice betraying no hint of surprise.
‘Davis,’ he greeted in return. His voice was low and cultured with a slight rasp to it, as if he hadn’t used it in some time.
‘They haven’t tried to medicate you in some time.’
‘Apparently they have been receiving some phone calls from the Chief of Police in Mercy,’ Charles replied calmly, his face amused as he regarded his associate.
Despite the air of culture and wealth that his sharply tailored suit portrayed Davis still held a hint of danger about him, one so subtle under the layers of his facade most would miss it. His face was unlined and handsome and in direct contrast to his white hair and pale coloured eyes.
‘I assume they are trying to keep you from talking to the wrong people,’ Davis mused.
‘I would imagine so; they are not very subtle about it.’
Davis nodded in understanding.
‘The first sacrifice has been made,’ he spoke so softly anyone else would have had trouble understanding.
‘It bears the brand of the serpent?’
Davis once again nodded in confirmation.
‘Is everything in place?’ Charles asked sharply with the confidence of a man used to being obeyed.
‘Yes, all the arrangements have been made, everything is proceeding as planned.’
‘Good,’ Charles nodded, ‘my daughter?’
‘She is back in Mercy.’ Davis replied.
‘Does she suspect?’
‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘I have kept a close eye on her, for the moment she knows nothing.’
Suddenly the watch at Davis’s wrist beeped and he looked down. Pulling back his sleeve slightly, he noted the blinking number counting down from thirty. He stood and opened the briefcase, pulling out the false bottom and retrieving two gas masks.
‘It is time.’ He held out one of the masks towards him.
Charles stood and as he did the handcuffs and restraints at his ankles confining him to the chair simply clicked open and dropped back against the chair with a small metallic clang. He felt his power flex and unfurl inside him, held dormant for too long. There was a commotion in the corridor and loud voices as he calmly reached out and took the mask from Davis, a small smile curving his mouth.
‘I think it’s time to pay my daughter a visit.’ he spoke softly before pulling the mask over his head to hug his face tightly.
The watch beeped again and suddenly the voices in the corridor went quiet.
‘Shall we?’ Davis’s voice was slightly muffled as he gestured with his hand, indicating for Charles to take the lead.
Charles nodded moving towards the door. It opened with a small click and swung outwards making a muffled thud as it caught someone lying in a heap on the polished floor. Raising a brow in amusement Charles stepped over the unconscious guard, as did Davis and the two men walked confidently down the corridor as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Upon reaching the internal security door, it buzzed and swung open.
They were greeted on the other side by two of the facility’s guards who were also wearing gas masks.
‘Charles, this is William Duke and Carlton Sway. They will be joining us as private security.’ Davis introduced the two tall broad men, his voice echoing inside the mask.
&nb
sp; ‘Ex-military?’ Charles surmised by the look of them.
‘Yes Sir,’ the one named William nodded.
‘Well by all means gentlemen,’ Charles indicated with his hand, ‘please lead the way.’
They proceeded quickly and efficiently through the rest of the facility, stepping over the unconscious bodies on the floor and ignoring the guards and staff slumped at their positions. When they finally stepped out of the main entrance and into the cool crisp fresh air a shiny black sedan waited patiently. Charles pulled off his mask and took a deep breath, allowing the cleansing air to saturate his lungs. Looking up at the endless cloud covered sky he smiled.
‘Charles,’ Davis had also disposed of his mask and was holding the car door open for him.
Charles looked around and caught sight of several bodies lying at intervals along the perimeter fence just as two more guards jogged towards him. These two wore the unrelieved black of the exterior guards, with weapons strapped across their bodies and grasped tightly in their fists.
‘Mr Connell,’ they greeted. ‘Barnes and Chester.’
Charles nodded at the introduction.
‘Non lethal tranq darts,’ Barnes explained, ‘The perimeter is now secure, you’re good to go.’
‘Thank you gentlemen,’ he threw them a cocky little salute as he stepped into the car.
Barnes walked backwards signalling to the driver to pull out. The gate beeped and slid open behind him as he stepped aside, his hand still cautiously on his weapon as he watched the car pass. A dark coloured SUV pause beside him. relaxing his weapon he swung up into the back seat, slamming the door and settling back as the car followed his new employer.
Olivia stepped back as she admired her handiwork. The display cabinet situated in the dining room now gleamed, the deep rosy coloured wood was so glossy it almost reflected back the sparkling glass wear housed inside. She’d finished wrapping and boxing the items she personally didn’t care for, those would be stored in the attic until she decided what to do with them. Now that all the furniture was clean and dusted with a slight citrus smell hanging in the air she filled a bucket and with a brush in one hand and a rag in the other she began to tackle the floor.
Mercy (The Guardians Series 1) Page 11