The River Is Dark

by Joe Hart

  When it appeared that Liam’s assumptions were correct, that robbery wasn’t on the killer’s list of motives, they made their way back to the kitchen. The afternoon looked darker than it had earlier, and rain still fell in silver lines outside the window, veiling the impressive view from atop the bluffs.

  “So what now?” Dani asked, leaning on the kitchen counter.

  “There’s not much else to look at here,” Liam said. “I suppose we can go back to town, maybe find something to eat.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be hungry again,” Dani said, her eyes locked on the black spatters in the living room.

  “We’ll have to plan a funeral too. Everyone will expect one,” Liam said.

  Dani nodded. “I’m dreading that, but after this, it should be easy.”

  “I’m sorry I put you through this.”

  She turned toward him and shook her head. “You didn’t put me through anything. I came here because I wanted to.”

  “I know, it’s just rough, that’s all.”

  “Like I said, Suzie was basically a sister to me. I owe it to her if I can help figure out who did this, and you obviously have the skills to find them, so you’re stuck with me.”

  Liam smiled. “Okay.” He caught himself looking into her eyes for a second too long and turned his head. “Let me just grab a pen and paper here. Maybe on the ride back we can call the funeral home and try to schedule something.”

  Liam pulled open a random kitchen drawer and found stacks of silverware. The drawer next to it held measuring cups and spoons. The drawer on the end was full of odds and ends, and he pulled it out all the way, looking for a scratch pad and pen. As he shifted the contents around, he spotted a stack of Post-Its along with a pen in one corner. Liam grabbed the two items and was about to shut the drawer when something beneath a small calculator caught his eye.

  Pulling the set of keys free from the drawer, he straightened and flipped the plastic key fob over so that he could read the label marked by his brother’s hand.

  “What is it?” Dani asked when she noticed him staring at the keys.

  Liam turned the fob toward her so she could read the letters encased in the plastic: J & K’s house. Dani looked at Liam, who stepped around the counter and began to walk toward the door.

  “Wanna take another ride?”

  They found the Shevlins’ house after passing by the narrow driveway twice on the county road a mile outside of town. The storm doubled its effort as they drove, and more than once Liam had to flip the Chevy’s wipers onto high just to make out the centerline. Dani studied the driveway as they passed it by, reading off the address number to him.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” he said, and scanned the sides of the road. A hundred yards from the driveway he spotted a narrow turnaround on Dani’s side and pulled into it, dousing the headlights that attempted to light up the thick forest lining either side of the road. A stand of pine trees just tall enough to loom over the Chevy appeared on the left, and Liam swung the pickup behind them, effectively blocking the truck from being seen from the road.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he shut off the truck.

  “We have to go in on foot from here. I don’t want to risk parking in the driveway and having someone see my truck there. That wouldn’t bode well for me. Could you open the glove compartment and grab the flashlight that’s inside?”

  Dani opened the compartment in front of her knees and handed him the black barrel of the LED flashlight before shutting the compartment door.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked, looking out at the swaying trees and the pitchfork lightning that stabbed the sky in intermittent bursts.

  “No, but it’s the next step. I think there was something binding the Shevlins to my brother that Suzie knew nothing about, and I think that something might be here.”

  Dani nodded and gazed at her lap so long that Liam was about to offer to drive her back to town. Then she spoke. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  The wind pounded them when they left the safety and warmth of the truck. The rain became more like stinging nettles as they ran near the ditch on the edge of the road, both of them looking forward and back for any sign of headlights coming their way. By the time they made it to the driveway and hurried beneath the overhanging canopy of trees, their clothes were second skins and water squelched from the soles of their shoes. The driveway was longer than Liam expected, and just when he began to regret not parking the truck closer, the house came into view.

  It was an impressive two-story chalet-style home with long eaves and cedar siding. A manicured flower garden sat to the left of the driveway, along with an immense steel outbuilding. The paved drive dropped away and wound down to the two-stall attached garage, where a sidewalk shot off from its front, leading to a wide covered porch. Beyond the house a close-cropped lawn stretched a stone’s throw away, extending into the river. The dark water flowed by in eerie silence, as lightning danced somewhere behind them, throwing the yard into a shocking negative flash that cut through the gloom.

  Liam reached out and grabbed Dani’s hand, pulling her with him as he pelted down the slope to the house. Their footsteps resounded in hollow thumps on the decking as they crossed it to the front door. Liam fumbled with the keys in the twilight and finally managed to fit the correct one into the lock. Before turning it, he glanced at Dani.

  “If there’s an alarm on the door, we run, okay?”

  She nodded, and he turned the lock and opened the door.

  Only the muffled patter of rain on the roof met them as they entered. They stood in a foyer, with a large sitting room to their left. A bank of stairs rose to their right and turned, opening up on a landing that fronted what looked like several bedrooms. Liam searched the darkness behind the banister above him, not knowing why the sight chilled him. Dani closed the door behind them, and Liam felt the wetness and heat of her shoulder brush his.

  “Let’s not turn on any lights, including the flashlight, unless we have to, okay?” he asked in a low voice, uncertain why he felt the need to speak quietly.

  “Okay.”

  They moved together past the stairs and turned a corner, where the kitchen extended under a lofted ceiling. A row of stools sat in a neat line behind an island, and multiple windows gave a panoramic view of the yard and river outside. A spacious living room branched off the kitchen, and Liam searched the shadows that consumed its far end.

  “God, it’s spooky in here,” Dani said. “Way worse than Allen and Suzie’s.”

  Liam nodded. There was something different about the place. Perhaps it was the sprawling size of the home and the utter vacancy within it, or maybe it was the storm. He wasn’t sure, but now wasn’t the time to comb through the emotions to find a source.

  “This is where Jerry and Karen were killed,” Liam said, turning in a small circle. The floor in the kitchen looked clean even in the low light, and he saw no obvious stains or matter anywhere in the vicinity. “The cleaning company’s been here already.”

  “I can’t say I’m disappointed,” Dani said.

  Liam suppressed a smile. “I want to find Jerry’s office if possible, see if anything stands out.”

  They moved through the kitchen, the sound of their wet shoes squeaking on the floor like shrieks in the silence. Liam and Dani wound their way through the overstuffed recliners and around a leather corner sofa until they stood at the far end of the house. A bathroom sat beside a closed door at the rear of the room. Liam tried the handle of the door, fearing it wouldn’t open. It turned easily. Elation bloomed in his chest as the meager light from outside illuminated an oak desk and a computer, and two file cabinets that sat flush with the wall.

  “Got it,” he said, and stepped into the room. Liam made his way around the desk and rolled the office chair out so that he could sit. “Here, do you want to hold the light?” he asked Dani.
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  She took the flashlight and, after a moment of fiddling, turned it on. The light, switched to the lowest setting, shone just enough to allow them to see their immediate surroundings. Liam opened a deep drawer in the desk and pulled the lone folder within it out. As soon as he did, Dani aimed the light into the drawer and pointed.

  “Look.”

  A handgun lay at the bottom of the drawer, its steel flesh gleaming. Liam grunted and turned his attention back to the folder. A few pages within revealed several old stock-exchange records and client contacts. Most of the numbers looked like gibberish to him, and he placed the contents back into the folder and returned it to the drawer. The other drawers in the desk were almost as empty, with only two more binders containing quotes on various land projections and an envelope with two one-hundred-dollar bills inside.

  Liam put everything back the way he found it and settled into the chair. Dani focused the light on the desktop, and Liam saw something that made him sit forward.

  “That’s Allen,” Dani said, training the light on the framed photo.

  Liam picked it up and studied it. The picture was of the front of Allen’s practice. A group of a dozen people stood side by side on a sunny day, a drooping red ribbon hanging before the entrance to the building in the background. His brother held an overly large pair of scissors poised to cut the ribbon. A man stood beside him with a hand on Allen’s shoulder, his grin broad and full of white teeth.

  Liam grabbed another photograph from the desk’s surface and brought it close. It was of Jerry, Karen, and Eric sitting on the deck in front of the house, their hands clasped in one another’s, each smiling through the years that had passed since the picture was taken. Jerry was the man with a hand on Allen’s shoulder in the first picture.

  Liam set both frames back on the desk and stood. “Jerry was involved with Allen’s business somehow, otherwise he wouldn’t be in that photo.”

  “Well, they were friends, right? Could he have been there just to be there?” Dani asked.

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so. My dad and I drove down to see the opening ceremony for his clinic. That picture wasn’t taken that day. I think that was a grand reopening or something.”

  “We could ask around about that—there’s nothing to hide there, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Liam said, stepping around Dani as he moved to the file cabinets. “I just want to take a look in here, then we can go.” The words had barely left his mouth when he saw movement to his right.

  A shadow strode through the storm outside the living room windows.

  Liam sunk to the floor, grabbing the flashlight from Dani’s hand as he did so. “Get down,” he whispered, snapping off the dull glow of the light. “There’s someone outside.”

  “Is it the cops?” she asked, huddling close to him on the floor, both of them kneeling beside the desk. Liam’s heart thundered in his chest, matching the weather outside, and he scanned the yard for the figure.

  “I don’t know. Do you have your phone with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you hear me shoot, call 911, okay?”

  “Shoot?”

  Liam stood and drew the Sig from the holster at his back. Leaning against the doorway, he peered into the living room and through the windows lining the far wall. He saw no flashing lights or other movement except for an arc of lightning in the distance. Liam crouched and moved out of the office, stopping behind an easy chair. The grip of the pistol felt slick in his hand, and he flexed his fingers as his breath shuddered in and out of him like something alive. With slow caution, he eased to the edge of the chair and peeked around the side.

  A shape stood in the corner of the yard.

  Liam folded himself back behind the chair. He couldn’t see if the person faced the house or the dense woods beyond, but with the lights off inside, he would have an advantage to move without being seen. He glanced at the office and saw Dani’s pale face looking back at him, her eyes wide. He held up one index finger, and then moved out from behind the chair, his back and knees bent, his body as low as he could get it to the floor. Lightning flashed again, turning the world outside into a blizzard of light. Liam spun and tried to get a glimpse of the figure, but the light dimmed and dusk resumed within a clap of thunder.

  Liam moved through the kitchen, throwing a look at the garage door to make sure it was intact. He winced at the sounds of his feet on the floor, but was sure the pounding rain and thunder masked any noises he made. When he reached the foyer, he searched the rain-soaked drive for vehicles. Empty.

  His heart picked up its already brisk pace. If there was no car, then that most likely ruled out law enforcement. If it wasn’t the law outside, then there was a good chance it was the opposite.

  The killer had come back.

  Liam glanced at the stairway and realized why he’d had a sense of apprehension earlier. It was the thought of young Eric Shevlin running up the stairs to hide in his parents’ room while they were slaughtered below him, in the kitchen. Liam did a quick pan of the area outside the windows and saw nothing. His angle was now wrong to survey the corner of the yard. He would have to leave the safety of the house to see where the form waited.

  Without a sound, he turned the knob and opened the door to the storm. Rain fell in sheets beyond the overhang of the deck. Muddy trails of water flowed over the concrete drive and raced to join the Mississippi at the bottom of the property. Liam closed the door and crept to the corner of the house facing the river. His head swiveled back and forth, his eyes scanning the cascading layers of rain for movement. Leaning forward, he pushed his face around the corner of the house and looked toward the spot where he last saw the figure.

  The yard was empty. Without hesitation, he moved down the steps, the gun held out before him, his legs bent, eyes twitching, finger tight on the trigger. Puddles splashed around his feet, but he didn’t slow until he reached the far corner of the building. Pausing, he swept the woods for any sign of a deeper shadow before pivoting around the corner. Only swaying trees and brush met him, and after a full minute of waiting, he lowered the gun.

  He was sure he hadn’t made enough noise to alert the trespasser, and he hadn’t seen him depart. Liam turned his head toward the river and the spot where he last saw the figure. A small, rounded shadow sat on the ground just before the tree line. He hadn’t noticed it, since the figure had blocked it from his earlier vantage point. He moved toward it, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the dark forest. When he was a few feet away from the object, he glanced down, finally seeing it for what it was.

  A tombstone grew out of the ground, the outlines of letters carved into its front. He knelt and moved close to the granite until he could read the words etched into the rock. Peter Shevlin, June 8, 1993—In our hearts and in God’s hands. A small angel with massive wings hovered over the inscription, its head bowed in mourning.

  Liam stood, glancing in all directions as he retreated to the house, his mind trying to make sense of what just happened. An uneasy feeling like a ball of infection began to throb in his stomach. He didn’t know what bothered him more: the sight of the shadowed form appearing and disappearing within the storm, or that it seemed to have come to visit the grave of the Shevlins’ deceased infant.

  CHAPTER 7

  Donald Haines stirred the vodka and lime-water together with an angry flick of his wrist.

  He shot his cell phone a poisonous look before downing half the drink, the ice cubes in the glass clinking together. The conversation with Ian hadn’t gone well. Not well at all. When Donald mentioned that the project might be postponed because of the recent murders, there’d been only silence on the other end of the line. He could imagine Ian’s high-rise office in Chicago, his floor the only one in the building illuminated at this time of night. He could see the man seated behind the hideous art-deco desk in the middle of the room; his dark eyes unmoving from the ni
ght around the building, the curling, ever-present sneer on his otherwise stoic face.

  “Fuck you,” Donald growled, and slammed the rest of his drink.

  He tossed the glass onto the countertop and went to the freezer to grab the vodka, wanting—no, needing—another drink after the encounter with Ian. The vice president’s conditions were clear: get the project under way within the next week, or Colton would find someone else to do it. Donald huffed at the sound of Ian’s voice in his ear, so cold and calm, assuring him that they would have no trouble finding a replacement at all.

  “Asshole,” Donald said to the empty house. Couldn’t Ian see that he was doing as much as he could? The cops were out searching for the lunatic right now, and there wasn’t any confirmation that the city council would postpone because of the recent crimes. He’d also given the mayor an extra thousand dollars. Although the bumpkin took the money, he said there weren’t any guarantees, but he’d do his best to push it forward.

  Donald sloshed vodka into the glass and didn’t even bother with the lime-water before snapping the drink back. God, he couldn’t wait to get out of this little shithole. There was nothing here he wanted. No friends, no nightlife, no women to fuck. He walked across the kitchen and gazed out the windows at the storm. The wind hadn’t abated since early evening, and the rain fell as if there was a hole in the sky. Turning away from the window, he stalked to the counter where his phone lay, his steps heavier with the influence of the vodka. He checked the time on his phone; it was getting late. He needed to get to bed if he was going to make his tee time in the morning.

  Shooting the vodka another longing look, he walked his glass to the sink and set it down. He turned off the single light in the kitchen and was about to grab his phone when a noise made him stop in his tracks.