Castle of Sorrows

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Castle of Sorrows Page 7

by Jonathan Janz


  “They’ll go to Colorado with Claire’s parents. The beast is resourceful, but it’s not going to go a thousand miles to get them.”

  “Christina will be happy.” When Ben shot him a look, Teddy explained, “About us going to the island, that is.”

  “Us?”

  “She owns the damned place. If I know Christina, she’ll bring her whole damned entourage. Bodyguards, this medium she consults, the professor.”

  Ben cocked an eyebrow at him.

  Teddy smiled. “That’s right. It’ll be a regular goddamned Gilligan’s Island. Only thing we’ll be missing is that hot red-haired girl, what’s her name? Ginger? We just need a Ginger, and we’ll be good to go.”

  Ben opened the car door, swung a leg out. “The FBI lady has red hair.”

  Teddy snapped his fingers. “Son of a bitch, you’re right!”

  Shadeland climbed out, flung shut the door. Teddy watched him cross the yard, reach down and scoop up his son. Moving like a sleepwalker, Shadeland’s wife followed him toward their Camry. Teddy assumed the three of them would spend the night in a hotel, and tomorrow Ben’s wife and son would be on a plane to Colorado.

  Teddy started his car, put it in reverse, then described a slow U-turn through the driveway. Jesus, Teddy thought, moving around the bend into the forest. What a crazy yarn. A seven-foot-tall creature straight out of Greek mythology spiriting away an infant to its island in the Pacific Ocean. Teddy shook his head. Craziest shit he ever heard.

  Still, when he came to the stop sign that led to the main mountain road, Teddy put the car in park, swiveled in his seat and peered into the back to make sure there was nothing hiding there.

  When he was sure the beast wasn’t hitching a ride to town with him, Teddy slid the car into gear and continued down the mountain. When he reached the bottom of the mountain road, he angled onto the rocky shoulder, shut off his engine and dialed Christina. It was Chad Wayne who answered.

  “Hello?” Wayne said in a bored voice.

  “Mr. Wayne, this is Alfred. Your tuxedo is ready for the Gotham City Ball.”

  Silence.

  Teddy sighed. He usually enjoyed messing with the big moron, but tonight his heart wasn’t in it. “Put Christina on.”

  “Who’s this?”

  Teddy could almost imagine Wayne frowning at the phone in his hand, the guy’s deep-set eyes crossing a little. “Who the hell you think it is, dumbass? It’s Brooks. Put your boss on before some drunk driver comes along and crashes into my ass.”

  “Are you standing in the road or something?”

  Jesus. “Are you gonna put her on or not?”

  “Hold on,” Wayne grumbled.

  There was an interminable pause. It was late, but not so late that calling her would make her mad.

  “Here she is,” Wayne said.

  A second later, Christina Blackwood’s slightly groggy voice said, “Where are you, Teddy? Nothing’s wrong, I hope?”

  “I’m okay, but something’s come up.”

  Careful to leave out the gruesome details, Teddy told her what had gone down at Shadeland’s ranch.

  There was a gasp and then a protracted silence. Finally, he heard her whisper, “That’s terrible.”

  “It is that,” Teddy agreed. “But though I hate to say it, there’s a silver lining. At least for you, there is.”

  “I can’t imagine anything good coming from this.”

  “Ben’s going back to the island.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He thinks he’ll find his daughter there.”

  An even longer silence. “How would his daughter end up on the Sorrows?”

  “You got me,” Teddy said, deciding it was best to leave out the part about the seven-foot-tall goat man. “I just know he’s going there.”

  “You think we should go too?”

  “That’s your call.”

  He pictured her thinking it over. Chewing on a thumbnail, like she always did when she had to make a tough decision.

  “What time should we leave, Teddy?”

  Teddy told her as soon as possible. Christina said they’d go tomorrow afternoon, and soon after, they hung up. Teddy sat there a couple minutes wondering why he was so unsettled. It wasn’t the slaughterhouse back at Shadeland’s ranch, though that hadn’t exactly been a cheerful episode in Teddy’s evening. It wasn’t going to the island tomorrow; if anything, the prospect of finally seeing the castle he’d heard so much about was a little exciting. No, it was something else…something about the phone conversation…

  Then he had it. It had been Teddy’s own comment, the one about the drunk driver crashing into him. He’d been joking, of course, but it was one of those ill-advised jokes, the kind that left a sour taste in your mouth after you said it. Teddy had a quick, unwelcome recollection of a night ten years ago. It had been a lot like this. Warm, sultry even. He’d been with his wife then. They’d just left Amelio’s…

  Teddy’s fingers twitched. With a spasmodic motion, he gunned the engine into life and spun out onto the road. Enough of that shit, he decided. He had work to do. Preparations to make.

  The last thing he needed was bad memories.

  Chapter Two

  Jessie Gary didn’t like it, but her partners on the case, Sean Morton and Troy Castillo, were beaming their approval at Ben Shadeland. The morning was cool and overcast, the stiff breeze adding a chill she normally didn’t associate with a California July. Troy Castillo looked a little uncomfortable, his deeply tanned flesh tight with goose pimples. The pink polo shirt and white shorts had no doubt been selected to display his muscular physique, but as she watched him bounce on his heels in his ill-chosen sandals, Jessie suspected Castillo was regretting his wardrobe choices. Morton didn’t seem fazed by the coolness. Ben Shadeland showed no sign of noticing the weather either, merely stood staring at them as the wind whipped his sandy brown hair off his forehead.

  Jessie took a moment to size Ben up and decided that under other circumstances he’d be a ruggedly handsome guy. But the purple hollows under his blue eyes and the grizzled cheeks lent him a haggardness that made it impossible to forget what he was going through, what he must be feeling.

  But it didn’t make sense to her. If Ben was so determined to keep his wife and boy near him at all times—they were waiting in a car just fifty yards away—why the tickets to Denver, why the sudden desire to return to the Sorrows, the place where so much horror had occurred?

  “Shouldn’t take too long to set up,” Castillo said.

  “No more than a week,” Morton agreed.

  The two agents continued talking as if Ben and Jessie weren’t even there.

  “Today,” Ben said.

  Morton and Castillo stopped talking and stared at Ben. Castillo’s grin faded.

  “What do you mean ‘today’?” Castillo asked.

  “We leave today,” Ben said, his expression unchanging.

  Morton didn’t speak, but Castillo’s easy smile returned. “Come on, Ben. You’re messin’ with us, right?”

  Ben didn’t respond.

  Castillo frowned. “Please tell me you’re messing with us.”

  “Mr. Shadeland,” Morton said patiently, “we’re as eager for closure on this case as you are, but—”

  “No you’re not.”

  Morton fell silent. He studied Ben Shadeland as if seeing him anew. Castillo, however, was squinting at Ben as though he were a fool. A thought tickled at the back of Jessie’s mind, but it was gauzy and half-formed.

  “Let me see if I get your thinking,” Castillo said. He ticked off his points, enumerating each on his big, tanned fingers. “We’re supposed to procure clearance from our supervisors, get the go-ahead from the owner of the island, find a competent helicopter pilot who can also be trusted on this sort of mission, and pack all our
things today? That’s absurd.”

  “That’s the only way I’ll go with you.”

  Castillo glanced at Morton in exasperation.

  Morton said, “What happens if we can’t satisfy your terms?”

  “I’ll get there some other way.”

  Castillo gave him a challenging look. “I suppose you can fly a helicopter?”

  “No,” Ben said.

  Morton said, “You could charter a boat, I suppose, but it would be difficult finding one on such short notice.”

  Castillo made a dismissive gesture. “I say we let him go. He thinks he doesn’t need us, he can find his own ride.”

  “He could go with Christina Blackwood,” Jessie said.

  All three men turned to stare at her. She detected the ghost of a smile on Ben’s face.

  “How the hell would he—” Castillo paused. “Wait a minute, why do you think she’s going to the Sorrows?”

  Morton was watching her. “Mrs. Blackwood hasn’t been to the island for decades.”

  “But she’s had a detective trailing Ben for the past year,” Jessie said. “She wants to know what happened to her son, and she thinks Ben can tell her.”

  Morton said, “You think she’d cooperate?”

  “Why not?” Jessie said.

  Castillo stared at her, arms akimbo. “And where the hell do you come up with something like that?”

  “I phoned the Santa Rosa police this morning,” Jessie explained. “They said Ben spent some time talking to a man named Teddy Brooks.”

  “The detective,” Morton said.

  “How do you guys know all this?” Castillo said. “We just got the file the other day.”

  “You were to read it immediately,” Morton said, all trace of chumminess gone.

  Castillo reddened. Jessie suppressed a grin.

  Morton turned to Ben. “So we either take you there today, or you go with Christina Blackwood’s party. Is that correct?”

  “What do you mean her party?” Castillo asked, shivering. The wind had picked up and was whipping salt spray in their faces. “We still have jurisdiction.”

  “The deaths occurred over a year ago on a privately owned island. There’s no imminent danger now, so we hardly have the right to restrict access,” Morton said. “What I want to know is why Mr. Shadeland wants us to come if he already has a ride.”

  Castillo turned to Ben, a sardonic twist to his mouth. “How ’bout it, Shadeland? Why do you need us?”

  Again, that ghost of a smile played at the corners of Ben’s mouth. “Who says I need you?”

  “You know,” Castillo said, “I don’t enjoy being made fun of.” He stepped closer, jaw tight. “Is that what you’re doing, Shadeland?”

  “Given your line of work, I’d think you’d be able to tell,” Ben answered.

  Then they were standing toe-to-toe, both very broad, but Ben a good three or four inches taller. Jessie didn’t know who would win in a brawl, but she suspected it would be worth watching.

  “Mr. Shadeland,” Jessie said. It took a full five seconds for him to turn from Castillo, but when he did look at her, she could tell she had his attention. “I think you should reconsider sending your wife and son to your in-laws’. They need you now.”

  In her periphery she saw Morton and Castillo exchange a look.

  “I also suspect you need them,” she said, but even as she said it, another idea was forming, at first inchoate, but rapidly transforming into a theory.

  “Joshua and Claire leave on the 12:20 flight,” Ben said. “I want to arrive at the island by four. Do we have a deal or not?”

  Jessie’s eyes widened. “You want us for protection.”

  “Protection from what?” Castillo asked.

  Still looking at Ben, she said, “From whatever’s on that island.”

  Castillo chuckled. “Nothing’s on the island. Just ask the agents who had this duty before us…what were their names?”

  “Moss and Early are both on medical leave,” Morton said.

  “Both of them are?” Castillo asked.

  Morton said, “We were brought in not only for our expertise, Agent Castillo, but because there is currently no one on the case.”

  “So what happened to them?” Castillo said.

  Ben said, “That’s the first good question you’ve asked.”

  “You’re using us,” Jessie said wonderingly.

  Ben eyed her, and she caught a flicker of what might have been guilt. But it vanished in an instant. “I’m doing what you guys have been asking me to do since last summer.”

  Castillo’s eyes narrowed. “What do you think we’re going to run into on the island?”

  “I’m sure you can handle it,” Ben said.

  But Castillo wasn’t to be put off this time. “We get there tonight, and all of a sudden you say, ‘Oh, I remember now.’ And then you spring some fanciful story on us, and we’re meant to believe it. That about right?”

  Ben seemed about to answer, but Morton broke in. “We’ll agree to your terms.”

  Castillo cocked an eyebrow. “We will?”

  “Meet us at Santa Rosa Memorial at two p.m. There’s a helipad there.”

  “How do you know that?” Castillo asked in a plaintive voice. “Was that in the file too?”

  “We wanted Mr. Shadeland to return to the island,” Morton said. “I didn’t think he’d acquiesce this quickly, but I wanted to be prepared for when he did.”

  “I’ll be there at two,” was all Ben said.

  Morton wheeled and headed up the beach without a word. Ben set off toward his family.

  Jessie and Castillo followed Morton. Jessie was halfway to the car when she heard Ben call, “Agent Gary.”

  He was coming toward her at a slow walk. She glanced back to see if Castillo or Morton had noticed, but they had their backs turned and were nearly to the car.

  She hurried across the thick sand to where Ben had stopped.

  “I’m not going to ask you to keep this between us because I’m sure you took some kind of oath,” he said. He was talking fast, sounding distracted, but there was an intensity in his voice that drew her closer.

  “Go on,” she said.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I explained,” he said, “so I’ll just skip the why. But I’m telling you, there’s something horrible on that island. Worse than anything you can imagine. And it has my baby girl.”

  Jessie opened her mouth, but Ben hurried on.

  “You better come well-armed. It probably won’t do us any good, but it won’t hurt to be prepared.”

  He took a step away from her, but paused, a deep frown creasing his forehead. He moved nearer to her again, so near she had to force herself not to take a step backward. Under his breath, he said, “Morton seems okay, but that Castillo is an asshole. Believe me, I’ve met his kind before. Last summer, as a matter of fact.” He took a breath, paused as if choosing his words carefully. “The island is like a magnifying glass, but it only magnifies the darkness in a person. The malevolence. We’ve all got it, but some of us are more afflicted than others. You need to steel yourself against it, because it’ll work on you, too. And I’d keep a close eye on Castillo. He’s exactly the kind of guy the place preys on.”

  And with that, Ben headed toward his car.

  Teddy glanced about the vast marble foyer, more than two stories high, the Corinthian pillars broad and tall enough to prop up the Roman Coliseum. There were expensive-looking paintings on every wall, one of which he was pretty sure was a Picasso. There were freshly cut flowers sprawling out of delicate antique vases. Teddy wondered who was responsible for them. There’d be a full-time gardener, he was sure, for a place this big. He’d never asked Christina about it, but he figured the estate for fifty acres or more, a good deal of that landscaped. Stephen Blackwood,
Christina’s late husband and one of the corpses from last summer’s bloodbath, had inherited the land, but the structure on it, the opulent pool area, the tennis courts, the twelve-car garage full of foreign sports cars—all that had been Stephen’s doing. Too bad the guy had been an asshole.

  Christina was currently bustling about the foyer, a cell phone in one hand and a drink in the other—Teddy couldn’t tell what it was, but from the color, he doubted it was orange juice. Her trendy black skirt billowed around her whenever she turned, providing Teddy with a healthy glimpse of her legs all the way up to her thighs. Woman was fifty-one and a widow, but Teddy wasn’t complaining. Her thighs were just fine by him, as were her calves, breasts and her face, these last two items he suspected of having been surgically enhanced.

  Her bodyguards were lugging suitcases and boxes of books through the huge front doors, both men with muscles on their muscles. Jorge carried Mrs. Blackwood’s personal items. Chad Wayne had been charged with toting the boxes of books from the library to the car.

  Professor Peter Grant was on the phone too, carrying on what to Teddy sounded like a hell of a boring conversation with another professor. They were throwing around words Teddy hadn’t heard since he was an undergrad at Cal-Poly; just listening to the men discuss paradigms and dichotomies made Teddy want to go to sleep. He felt bad for their students.

  The doors opened again and in walked Elena Pedachenko. Teddy felt his malaise lift immediately. Seeing the way her tight little body shifted in the slinky blue sundress, Teddy felt something else lift too. Hot damn, the girl was something. Too bad she was creepy as hell and fond of freaking Teddy out. The few occasions he’d attempted to strike up a conversation with her, she’d ended up making him feel naked, and not in a good way. Naked as in showing up for school without your clothes on and having everybody laugh at you. She knew how to get to him, which was why he mostly avoided talking to her these days. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t look, did it? When she turned sideways, he caught a glimpse of her sensual profile, the tiny turned-up nose, the full pouty lips, the striking green eyes that might as well have been surgically removed from some cat. Teddy let his eyes crawl down the curve of neck. The silky blue fabric just nuzzled the tops of her breasts, but the sides of them were as bare as her willowy arms. He bet she had the slightest bit of roundness on that little tummy of hers. What he wouldn’t give to sprinkle some sugar on it, just like that grating Def Leppard song his ex-wife had always wanted to make love to.

 

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