by H. P. Bayne
“Enough,” she said. “We need to start planning what we’re going to do.”
Sully remained where he was as Eva crossed the room and tossed her used tissue into a small wastebasket. “Once the chief and Duncan leave, we can sit down with Dez and Lachlan and start figuring out our next move. In the meantime, maybe you can try again to reach your dad.”
It seemed as good an idea as any. Sully closed his eyes and pictured his father in his mind. He allowed the image to become just this side of solid, so detailed he could make out the odour of Flynn’s usual brand of aftershave. He recreated the scattering of freckles across his nose, the bulge of muscle beneath his shirt sleeves, the flecks of gold within the olive green of his eyes. He sent out the call, begging his father to come.
Nothing.
It was like dialling a number and getting a busy signal.
Sully opened his eyes and shook his head. He was approaching the point of frustration where he’d risk struggling for control. All his life, he’d never been able to keep the ghosts away; the moment he needed one to come to him, he couldn’t get there.
As if that weren’t enough, Eva presented another conundrum.
“I was thinking about something,” she said. “Your ghosts don’t always work in a linear way. You remember Bulldog’s sister four years ago? She wanted you to find Sparrow but had no way of leading you directly to her. Not until you got close, anyway. You told us ghosts can kind of astral travel from one location to the next—or one person to the next—without knowing how they got there. If that’s the case, your dad and Aiden might not know how to lead us to where we need to go.”
“But this is Dad,” Sully said. “He policed this city for years. He knows it well. He could send me images of landmarks or street signs or something—anything to get us to the right area. After that, once we got close enough, he could lead us to the right spot. I’m sure of it.”
Eva crossed back toward Sully and sat next to him. “I police this city, too, and so did Dez. Lowell and Kindra know that. It makes me think they might have taken Kayleigh somewhere else, somewhere they feel they have the upper hand.”
“Lowell’s lived in Kimotan Rapids his whole life. Where else would they go? I mean, he isn’t going to take her to either of his homes, and he won’t go to either of the LOBRA properties. I don’t think so, anyway.”
“No, you’re probably right,” Eva said. “Maybe he’ll use the home of another member of the Circle, someone who lives out of the city. We know several of them were in on what Lowell did to Aiden. He’s got some longtime support around there. I think we need to call Paul and see if he has any ideas.”
“If we call Paul, we’ll have to explain about Kayleigh,” Sully said. “That means we’ll have to tell Mom too. We can’t expect Paul to keep it to himself. And once Mom knows, it’ll take an act of God to keep her at the cabin.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Let’s wait for Dez and Lachlan,” Sully said. “If, as a group, we can’t come up with anything right away, we’ll call Paul and figure out how to break it to Mom.”
The muffled sound of conversation on the move downstairs told Sully that Ed and Duncan were leaving. He moved to the side of the bedroom window, peering around the edge of the drape until he saw the two men climb into an SUV.
“They’re leaving,” he said. “Let’s go.”
He hadn’t yet reached the door when it opened, Dez emerging from the other side.
“Everything go okay?” Sully asked.
Dez crossed toward Eva, meeting her embrace. Only once she was held tight in his arms did he answer. “Yeah, everything went all right.”
Lachlan crossed the room and lowered himself onto one of the chairs. “We gave them a few details. They’re giving us until morning—eight o’clock—to provide the rest. We didn’t tell them about Kayleigh, and they knew we were leaving out something big. Leuvan and McPhee didn’t get promoted to their current posts by being dummies.”
“Morning?” Eva said. “What if that’s not enough time? We can’t put the police on to Lowell, not until Kayleigh’s safe.”
“That gives us a solid twelve hours, maybe a bit more,” Lachlan said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m planning on getting your kid back safe and sound long before that.” He met Sully’s eye just as Marc and Raiya returned to the room. “You get anywhere?”
Sully shook his head. “I can’t get through. It’s like someone put up a wall between me and Dad. I can’t connect, no matter how hard I try. I know he has to be with Kayleigh, but what good is that if I can’t get him to show me?”
“Maybe it’s not that he isn’t trying,” Raiya said. “Maybe it’s you who’s blocked.”
“Why would I be? The drugs I was given at Lockwood to suppress it, all that’s long worn off. I’ve never normally had problems connecting with that world.”
“This Thadeus guy, he wants to be in control,” Marc said. “Could be he’s still got a bit of a hold on you, that he’s trying to distance you from your supports.”
Sully thought back to a moment not so long ago. He and Dez in Gerhardt’s old house in The Forks. A group of men intent on killing the two of them. Sully had turned the hangman loose to save himself and Dez, and he’d almost lost himself to Thadeus.
He hadn’t because of Flynn and Aiden. They’d pushed through, made Sully remember himself, and in so doing, had given him the strength to push Thadeus away.
“That makes sense,” Sully said. “But what do I do about it? I need to reach Dad.”
Lachlan stood from his chair so fast, it made Sully jump—Dez, too, by the startled expression on his face.
“I have an idea,” Lachlan said. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
17
Lachlan was right.
Sully didn’t like his plan. Not at all.
Lachlan hadn’t provided details of it before leaving the room, holding off until his return a few minutes later. When he walked back in, he was carrying a syringe and a small bottle.
Sully recognized the bottle right away.
“That’s the drug you took from Lockwood a couple of months ago,” he said. “The stuff they were giving me during the experiments.”
“Hell, no,” Dez said. “That’s your idea, Lachlan?”
Lachlan didn’t reply directly, but what he said was answer enough. “Do either of you have something that belonged to your dad?”
Sully met Dez’s eye. “You have his watch, right?”
“Sull—”
“We need to find Kayleigh, and Dad isn’t coming to me for some reason. If this will get us what we need, I’m game to try.”
Ordinarily, such a suggestion would be met by the sharpest opposition from Dez. But this was his little girl, and Sully knew as protective as Dez was of him, his daughter trumped everything.
Not that Dez was completely sold. “How is it you just happened to have a syringe lying around? And how do you know how much to give him?”
“I bought a few syringes when I was looking to have the stuff analyzed,” Lachlan said. “I didn’t want to send in the full bottle, so I needed something to withdraw some samples. And I took photos of Sully’s Lockwood file, remember? Gerhardt kept records of the amounts he used.”
Marc stepped close to Sully. “This doesn’t seem like a very safe approach.”
“It probably isn’t,” Sully said. “But it’s Kayleigh. I’m more than willing to risk it.”
“Something goes wrong, you could end up like Gerhardt,” Dez said. “You know that, right?”
Sully nodded. He didn’t respond further. He was anxious enough, the idea of going under just as he’d done during his time in the Blue Room. Only his biggest worry now wasn’t the other people in the room with him; it was what he might see while he was under.
All the other spirits with whom he’d connected had showed him one thing, and one thing only: their deaths. If he had to live through Flynn’s, he wasn’t sure he’d co
me out of this experience the same.
He towed Dez to the side, looking up to meet his eye. “I don’t think you should be here for this.”
“She’s my daughter, Sully. Damn straight I’m going to be here.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking about. All the other times I was on that drug, the only thing I was shown was the deaths of the ghosts they connected me to. The drug in combination with a trigger object made me experience their deaths. That might be all I get out of this. I don’t want you to see it if that’s what happens now.”
Dez paled, his sprinkling of freckles standing out all the more as a result. “You mean you might experience Dad’s death?”
Sully nodded.
“Jesus,” Dez said. “I hadn’t thought about that. Sull, I don’t know, man. Maybe there’s another way.”
“Maybe,” Sully said. “I could drive around aimlessly, hoping to pick something up. But that might not happen fast, if at all. And the road conditions aren’t good out there. If we’re heading out to get Kayleigh back, it would help to have just one destination in mind. The other thing I’m worried about is that Thadeus will use the fact I’m not in control to try to put himself there. I don’t know who I’ll be when I come back around.”
Dez’s face hardened. “All the more reason for me to stay, then. If someone needs to hold you back—”
“You won’t be enough. Not against him. None of you will be enough. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Well, I can say the same about you. And that’s not even getting into the psychological side of this, if it turns out you do have to experience what happened to Dad. If you’re going through with this, Sull, I’m sticking around.”
Sully sighed. There was no point arguing—and not enough time, even if he was of a mind to try.
He turned back to Lachlan. “Let’s do it. But I need everyone to be prepared. There’s a chance this won’t end well. If I don’t come out like I’m supposed to, it’s no one’s fault. I’m doing this willingly. And if Thadeus uses this as an opportunity for a return appearance, I need you guys to be ready for it.” He turned to Raiya. “Have the palo santo ready, but if it’s not enough, if you can’t stop me, just let me leave. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“We won’t let you,” Raiya said. “And what’s more, I don’t think you’d let yourself.”
Sully wished he could believe it. It would make what he was about to do so much easier.
He headed over to the bed, tugging up the sleeve of his T-shirt on the way to expose the veins of his inner arm. While Lachlan measured out a quantity of the drug, Sully laid down, making himself as comfortable as possible.
Dez and Eva took up spots on the bed next to him, Eva laying a hand on his chest as she settled in.
“We’re here,” she said. “This isn’t like Lockwood, all right? Not at all. Try to remember that.”
He gave her what smile he could manage. What she said was true. Being surrounded by Dez, Eva, Marc, Raiya and Lachlan was a damn sight better than looking into the faces of Gerhardt, Hackman, Lowell and the guy in the fright mask. But no matter the change of location, circumstance or companions, the drug and his brain remained very much the same—and he worried the effects he was about to experience would be the same too.
He turned away as Lachlan approached his arm with the loaded syringe. “You’re sure about this?” Lachlan asked.
Sully nodded. He watched as Dez removed his watch, the one that used to belong to their dad.
“Sullivan.” The soft quality of Lachlan’s voice, a tone unusual for the man, had Sully turning back toward him. “If this doesn’t go well…. I mean, I’ve checked and triple-checked the dose, and I know it’s the lesser of the amounts you were given in the Blue Room. I just hate doing this, you know, just in case.”
Sully laid a hand on Lachlan’s arm. “It’s okay, Lachlan. I’m doing this willingly. Whatever happens, it’s not your fault.”
“But it’s my idea.”
“Still not your fault. Anyway, I may not be crazy about it, but it is a good idea.”
Lachlan didn’t appear convinced, but he moved in anyway. Sully turned back to Dez and Eva, focusing on them as the needle pricked his arm. He wasn’t back there. He knew that. He wasn’t strapped down and he wasn’t being looked at the way scientists might eye a lab rat.
But the feeling of the drug itself—the sensation of the cold chemical entering his vein, worming its way through his system—slammed him heavily back into the past nonetheless.
He reached out with his free hand, expecting Dez to drop the watch into it. Instead, he felt fingers—Eva’s—intertwine with his while Dez’s warm hand settled over his wrist.
“Not until you’re ready,” Dez said.
Sully wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready. All he knew was he had to try. For his family, he’d try anything.
He closed his eyes, sealing out the image of Dez and Eva, of the comfortable room in which he lay, settling into the feel of the drug as it invaded his brain. He felt it now, the crawling sensation within his skull as if parts of his mind, ordinarily closed off, ground open. Open doors, open windows, waiting to receive.
He nodded. At least he thought he nodded.
Eva’s fingers released, Dez’s hand lifted away.
Something hard, metallic, was placed gently into the palm of his outstretched hand.
Then he was gone, no longer himself.
He was Flynn.
18
The gate protecting Lowell’s country estate stood before Flynn, an effective barrier between him and his brother.
Pressing on the brakes, he lowered his window, pausing to reign in his anger before pressing the button. He felt like he’d failed when the best he could do was to announce his presence with a muffled growl.
It was enough, and the gate opened.
Now the only thing standing in Flynn’s way was the long driveway leading to the main house.
He stepped on the accelerator, eating up the remaining distance in less time than he ever had before. Ordinarily, he liked this drive and took his time. Lowell’s estate was built into a heavily wooded valley west of the city, and the winding drive this side of the entrance passed beneath an honour guard of elm trees, their limbs threading together above passing vehicles.
Just ahead, if he looked to his left at just the right moment, a pond would be visible. Lowell had begun stocking it with trout a few years back and they had enjoyed many a lazy day throwing in their lines and chatting.
Those days were over.
In discovering a thumb drive on Sully, Flynn had taken it to his computer downstairs, had pressed it in to check out the contents. Only one item was saved on the drive. One item had proved more than enough.
He hadn’t immediately recognized Thackeray Schuster’s voice, but it was obvious who was talking between references to his parents and the fact Sully had been hunting for a missing thumb drive since Betty was killed. The voice he had recognized immediately belonged to Lowell.
Flynn didn’t know what he’d expected to come of Sully’s search for the drive. Part of him wondered whether it would simply contain precisely what Betty had claimed: a collection of items detailing her family history. Whatever else the drive might have held, Flynn would never in a million years have expected this.
He’d been a cop a long time. He’d sat in numerous interview rooms with suspects, had learned all the visual and verbal tells of lying.
Lowell had stuttered. Lowell, who never stuttered.
And it had come at a crucial moment, immediately after Thackeray accused Lowell of killing Aiden.
Flynn’s head had spun. It was still spinning, his pounding heartbeat doing nothing to ease the sensation. Part of him didn’t believe Thackeray’s accusations, couldn’t believe it. But the other part of him, the part that was both a police officer and a father, had driven him here. Because on some level, it rang true.
After Aiden died, Lowell hadn’t come around for a long
time. Flynn had convinced himself his brother felt guilty he hadn’t been watching Aiden closely enough. Flynn had allowed Lowell to wallow in guilt for a while; frankly, Flynn had blamed him too.
But with time, anger had passed, leaving only the heaviest grief behind. Flynn had decided he needed his family around him—all of his family. But still Lowell hadn’t come. In fact, close to two years passed before Lowell again set foot at Flynn and Mara’s acreage.
Then there was Sully. Flynn had suspected something had to be up, the way he avoided Lowell, the way he looked at him when he thought no one noticed. Sully distrusted Lowell; that much was plain to see. Flynn had asked him about it once, but the little boy guarded his secrets well. Or perhaps Flynn just hadn’t been willing enough to dig further. It had been only a couple of years since he’d lost Aiden. Flynn hadn’t wanted to deal with any more personal pain, not then.
God forgive him, he’d ignored the signs.
There was no ignoring what he’d heard on Thackeray’s recording.
He slammed on the brakes in front of the house and pulled the keys before leaving the car and slamming the door behind himself.
The house’s front door opened for him, Lowell’s grin fading as Flynn stormed toward him.
Lowell’s expression told Flynn he knew something was wrong. But he’d have no idea what it was about. The only question left to Flynn was whether to explain verbally or to beat it into him.
The latter seemed far more likely.
The vision fell away, disappearing into darkness around Flynn, leaving him standing there amidst a pool of black silence.
No, he thought. I won’t let him see this.
Inexplicably, in a way Sully had never experienced during his time at Lockwood under this drug’s influence, he felt his own presence there, inside the vision. He was no longer Flynn; he was a spirit within him.