Ghost Mortem (Bordertown Chronicle Book 1)

  “You gonna tell me what this is about?” said my dad.

  “Okay,” I started. “What would you say if I told you I think I know who’s been committing the Nefarious Darius copycat murders?”

  “I'd probably immediately ask who, and cut through the bravado,” said my dad. “So go ahead. Who do you think it is?”

  I looked him and Vikki over. I made sure there was no one at the window. No one within earshot, save for the two people I could trust most with this. I softened my voice and answered.

  “Sheriff Perry Porter.”

  My dad burst out laughing. Vikki, on the other hand, simply looked away. She looked like her mind was racing, like she was making hundreds of connections of her own. She would undoubtedly have many.

  “Sheriff Porter,” my dad echoed.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Dad gave Vikki an incredulous look. Maybe he expected her to smile and let him in on the joke. Except it was no joke.

  “You mean the same sheriff who handpicked me to work in Bordertown when I was all but washed up as a police officer?”

  “No dad, the other Sheriff Perry Porter. Yes, that Sheriff Perry Porter.”

  Dad gave me a deadpan look.

  “Why on,” he began. “Why on Earth would you think that? You have evidence I'm guessing.”

  I nodded.

  I went and got my laptop, and put the mug shot of Darius Danko on the screen, and placed it on the coffee table in front of both of them.

  “Behold exhibit A. Darius Danko.”

  “Thanks, son. I’m pretty sure I’m never going to forget his face in this lifetime.”

  “Now, dad, you remember that boyfriend and girlfriend back in the mid 1990s? Their car ran out of gas on the highway, so the boyfriend went to get more?”

  “The guy who claimed Danko had a twin, yeah. But like I told you last night, we never substantiated that claim. Besides, it didn’t really go along with anything else we knew about the murders. There was only one consistent sample of D.N.A. on all of the bodies.”

  “But that’s just it dad. Twins have the same D.N.A.”

  “I know that, Gavin. That's exactly why we wouldn’t be able to prove it one way or the other. Except we know from his parents that Danko was, in fact, an only child.”

  “What if they lied?”

  “Oh, come on, Gavin. I think that's reaching.”

  “Really? Would you lie to protect me?” I asked. “Or Raven?”

  Dad shifted around awkwardly in his chair.

  “W…well…that's hardly a fair—”

  “You don’t have to answer that. But see? You’re already thinking about it.”

  “Well…I mean…okay. Maybe. But not if you committed a string of heinous murders.”

  “That’s just it, though. To public knowledge, Darius worked alone. So there might be no need to involve his brother.”

  “If he had a brother. Which he didn’t. You have no idea how many hundreds of people I personally canvassed over the years about this. Nobody—and I mean nobody who ever knew the Dankos—made any mention of a twin brother. Or any brother. The only person who ever claimed he saw a twin, was that one guy. Even his girlfriend and the truck driver couldn’t remember what they saw.”

  “I know. And I found out the other day that the boyfriend died, which means there are no witnesses at all. Don’t you find that a little suspicious?”

  “Okay. Still, Gavin, even if it is true. Even if there was a twin. What are the odds he’d be from this backwater town? I mean no offense, Vikki.”

  But Vikki hadn't objected. She acted as though she'd barely heard. In seeing this, dad looked back to me.

  “Dad, you’re forgetting the most obvious troubling thing about that crime scene.”

  “And what’s that?” he asked.

  I turned to look at Vikki, who’d been deep in thought the whole time. She looked like she was on the verge of a realization. Or possibly tears. But it was Vikki who had first pointed this out to me, my first night here.

  “There was no spiritual residue on the body,” Vikki said. “None whatsoever.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And who would be best equipped to do that?”

  “Anybody with access to Doc’s lab and equipment,” she said.

  “Which could be anyone who’s served in the B.T.P.D. for the last twenty years,” said dad.

  “Not anyone, dad,” I said. “Behold exhibit B.”

  I handed him the photograph from Vikki’s home.

  “Okay…what am I looking at?” said dad.

  “See that tall guy next to the Vikki's mom? That's Perry Porter.”

  “Okay,” dad admitted. “This does sort of look like Danko, I guess. But that isn’t Perry Porter.”

  “But it is, Jack,” Vikki said.

  “What?” said dad.

  Vikki covered her mouth and blinked away tears.

  “What?” said dad. “What am I missing?”

  “He…” Vikki stammered. “Oh my god, Jack. It's him. I know…I know it.”

  “Now wait a minute. Really Vikki? We can’t just—”

  “Jack, you don’t…you don't understand,” Vikki continued. “This…this all makes sense. He…he goes off grid. He’s had…god, he's had so many complaints against him too. From back in the day. Long before I was even on the force. And my mom…and Stephanie…they both warned me about him. They said…they said don't be alone with him. But I never believed them. I mean…he was never anything but kind to me. But Jack, he…when he goes off grid…he just says he’s doing a perimeter check. But then sometimes he’s gone for days. I mean…he’s our sheriff. And how many times have you seen him since you moved here?”

  Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. He didn't answer, but I got the impression it can't have been much more than the once in the corn fields, and then the second time I signed those waivers at the precinct.

  “And Jack,” Vikki continued, “I knew his parents, growing up. His mom’s black, Jack. I always knew she wasn't his biological mom. And she told me herself once he was adopted, and he never knew his real parents. And that’s him,” she said, pointing at the old photograph. “And that’s his twin. They’re identical, Jack.”

  “Now wait a minute,” said my dad. “Okay. Even if they are twins. What are the odds they both happen to be serial killers?”

  “About seventy percent, dad,” I said.

  “Wait, what? Seriously?”

  “Well, according to one study, anyway. But yes, dad, I’m not making this up. I told you this was important. I don’t even know the first thing about what we’d actually have to do if I’m right. And you know, there’s a part of me that still hopes that I’m wrong,” I said.

  “But you're not wrong, Gavin,” Vikki sobbed. “I just…god…I just know it. God. Jesus Christ. I used to garden for him. And he’d just stand there at the window for hours, watching me. It did make me feel pretty uncomfortable. But he never did anything. So I convinced myself it was my imagination. That I was being stupid. God. I'd forgotten about that. He took me under his wing and helped me join the force. God…ugh…I feel so filthy now. Growing up, Gavin…you know my friend Stephanie? She…she kept telling me he was spying on her. Trying to get her alone, and saying creepy things to her. God, and I didn’t…I didn't believe her. She said she’d keep catching him snooping through one of her windows. And I told her…I told her she was imagining it. And then…then…one day she was just gone.”

  He's been snooping on you for a while now too, I realized.

  “She was my friend, Jack,” Vikki sobbed. “It was even Sheriff Perry who organized the whole fucking search party to find her. He probably…he probably sent us to the wrong areas to make sure she wasn't found…oh my…oh my god… Everyone…everyone trusted him.”

  “He tried to get Raven alone in his car,” I said.

  “What, what?” said my dad.

  “Yeah, he…he sort of gave up when I happened along. But Raven really didn't want to get
into that car with him.”

  “Oh my god,” said Vikki. “Well thank god, Gavin.”

  Dad looked pensive, like he was torn between two worlds—good cop and protective father.

  Dad shook his head. “See…no…this is all still just circumstantial.”

  “No, but dad. That’s like, exactly what Danko used to do. You know that, don’t you. Don’t you remember? From his file? He'd get girls into his car. Alone. And the one time the boyfriend came back at just the right time, the two of them decided to immediately fuck off.”

  “Yeah, but…” dad trailed off and looked at Vikki, seeming taken aback by how haunted she looked. “Yeah. I’m sorry. Give me a minute. I think I’m about to agree with both of you. It just seems so…surreal. So far-fetched. I mean, two twins, raised by two different sets of parents, in two different places, just happen to both be serial killers, and then…what? Just happen to find each other, and then just happen to brooch the subject of serial murdering young women? How would they know they could trust one another? You don’t think that maybe violates the principle of Occam’s razor, son? Let alone common sense?”

  “Not when you consider the seventy percent principle, dad. Twins raised by similar families share about seventy percent of the same personality traits. Right down to their favorite flavor of ice crime. It’s science, dad. You remember that psych degree I took in college? Not a complete waste of time after all.”

  “Is all of that actually true?” asked my dad.

  “Yes. All of it. Well, everything except the not the complete waste of time part. The jury is maybe still out on that one. But I'm pretty sure I'm right about the rest.”

  “But still,” said dad. “They’d still have to have met. And then be candid enough with one another about their…well…their urges.”

  “Yeah, but dad…if either of them chanced upon the same articles as me, then even when they first laid eyes on one another, I bet they just instinctively knew. In those lizard brains of theirs. Heck, one of them could have already been onto the other.”

  “I don’t know, son…”

  “Fuck! I just feel so goddamn stupid,” said Vikki. “He’s been in front of us the whole time.”

  “So if this is true—” I began.

  “It is true,” said Vikki. “God. Gavin, I just know it. I think there's a part of me that's known it for years. And it just becomes more and more clear every time I think about it. I mean, two years ago, Doc and I had to clear away a ghost who'd been haunting the sheriff's home. It was the ghost of a teenaged girl, Jack. She said she’d been trying to find him for twenty years, that she knew this was where the killer lived. We thought she just meant the town. We didn't think she literally meant his house.”

  “All right,” I said. “So if it is true, then what do we do?”

  “Well, for starters,” said dad. “We don’t even have a shred evidence. I mean…all this stuff? All still circumstantial.”

  “So, what, maybe we get a DNA sample and test it against Danko’s,” I suggested.

  “See, that still wouldn’t prove anything. Because Porter’s D.N.A. will simply match the D.N.A. we already linked to Danko. If it’s the same D.N.A., it doesn’t help us. And if it’s not, well. Then it doesn’t either now, does it?”

  “It’d mean he’s innocent at least,” I said.

  “No,” said Vikki. “Even if they aren’t twins, I think deep down I’ve known there was something wrong with Perry this whole time. I just didn’t want to believe it. But Jack’s right. If we’re going to point the finger at Perry, we’re going to need evidence.”

  “Why don’t we just tail him,” I said. “You know, that good old fashioned police work you’re so fond of, dad.”

  “Okay,” said my father. “But I don’t know about this 'we' business, kemosabe.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “I gave you this.”

  “Right. And we’re the police. And now it’s time to let the police handle it.”

  “Oh, come on, dad. I can help.”

  “Gavin, do you have any idea how boring stakeouts actually are?”

  “Then they’ll be less boring with me around. Am I right?”

  “Gavin, you have the attention span of a gold fish,” my father said.

  “That’s not…wait, what? Oh, come on, dad.”

  “You’ll go stir crazy. Then you’ll drive us crazy.”

  “I will not!” I said. “Besides. When the two of you get your reputations back as the big heroes who took down the Nefarious Twins, you’ll need a good chronicler.”

  “Just let him help, Jack” said Vikki. “He’ll probably just keep calling us every ten minutes if we don’t.”

  “True,” said my father.

  “Plus,” I added, “I’ve already filled out all the necessary paperwork.”

  “Well, isn’t that convenient?” said dad. “Anyway. I said yes. Don’t oversell it.

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “For now, what do you say we call it a night? We can reconvene in the morning.”

  With that settled, Vikki went home, and we all got some well-needed shut-eye.

  Chapter 43

  I wasn't involved in the bugging of the sheriff's car. My father said “we need a distraction, not a spectacle.” So Vikki kept the sheriff busy while dad bugged his cruiser before the sheriff disappeared for the rest of the day.

  Then we waited.

  That night, when the sheriff’s cruiser reappeared on the official radar from its apparent hiatus, I got a call from Vikki saying she’d be by shortly to pick me up. I put on my best spy gear, which is to say I donned a black hoodie, black slacks, and sneakers, so I’d feel like a boss on our stakeout. I knew it wasn’t so much a stakeout as reconnaissance at this point, but I still wanted to be prepared. I brought along the sonic oscillating resonator Doc gave me, even though I knew it would be overkill, since both Vikki and my dad would already have theirs on them.

  I sat and waited for Vikki and my dad on the front porch. Moments later, they pulled up in their cruiser. I got in, and we rode off into the night.

  We followed Porter's route north up the highway. When we'd driven an hour or so, we came to a stretch of road which seemed to double back around on itself. It was an old road which should have closed years ago, being rendered obsolete by the new main highway. Effectively, this meant that, for about five minutes of the journey, the sheriff would be looping around and be able to see anyone who may have tried to follow him. Kind of brilliant, really.

  I had to hand it to the sheriff; he knew how to keep his eye on his tail. My father wasn’t shy about rubbing that in my face either.

  “You see that, kids?” he said. “See the way that old road doubles back. If we'd tried to tail him directly, we'd have been about as subtle as en erection in a Speedo.”

  Vikki snorted a laugh.

  “All right, all right,” I admitted. “When you're right, you're right, dad.”

  We followed the road further into the north. We must have driven nearly a hundred kilometers into the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, before finally finding a dirt road. We didn’t so much spot it at first, as pass it twice before we actually saw it. We continued along the dirt road and eventually came to an old ghost town.

  It was an old mining town, or so it seemed. It wasn’t even on the map. This appeared to be the end of Sheriff Porter's captured G.P.S. route, the end of the road, so to speak.

  Vikki killed the engines, and we all got out to survey the old ghost town.

  The town was pitch black, save for the faint starlight overhead. The dim starlight didn’t do much for our eyes, which had yet to adjust to the almost absolute darkness.

  “You know what’s ironic about this ghost town?” my father said.

  “No ghosts,” I said smugly, being no stranger to his predictable brand of humor.

  “No light either,” said Vikki. “Just a second.”

  A part of me wanted to say 'no, let me. I want to do it.' But somehow, that sounded re
ally childish, even in my head.

  Vikki activated her sonic oscillating resonator. We saw a faint glow blanket the small town and its buildings—all fifteen of them.

  “Hey look,” I said, pointing to the tracks at my feet. “We can even see where his tire tracks end.”

  We peered around the dimly outlined town.

  “Well…” said Vikki, “I don't see any specters anywhere.”

  “Which is weird, right?” I said.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “It could take hours to search this whole place,” said my dad.

  “Should we split up?” I asked.

  “Absolutely not,” said Vikki. “I’m getting visions of being stalked in this place.”

  We looked in each direction across the ghost town. A lot of the homes here were boarded-up somewhat, but some of the boards had come loose over the years.

  “Are these buildings even safe to go inside?” asked my dad.

  Vikki simply shrugged.

  “Hello!” I bellowed as loudly as I could.

  My voice echoed out into the night. No one made any reply. I tried shouting in front of a number of the buildings, and then finally into the old mine. Nothing.

  We systematically checked each of the houses in the area. There were fifteen of them in all, I counted. It must have been a very small community, back when people were living in it. I wondered about what the final days must have been like in this town. Or when they would have been, for that matter. Did people gradually grow bored with the secluded life of the mining town? Had whatever resource they'd been mining depleted, or did it no longer hold any value? Or did they have a mass exodus when the economy changed, leaving for proverbial greener pastures?

  “What do you think they used to mine here?” I asked.

  “I don't know,” answered dad. “Coal? Gold? Might be a relic of the gold rush.”

  “It's a shame there's no ghosts left,” I said. “It'd be cool to learn more.”

  “Yeah,” said Vikki. “It would, wouldn't it? Guys, I don't like this. This place is giving me the royal creeps. I mean…it's almost weird there aren't ghosts here. There really should be. But there isn't even any residue. It's like something cleaned it all up.”