Darc Murders Collection (The #1 Police Procedural/Hard Boiled Mystery Series)

by Hopkin, Ben

  Darc had no response to that question other than to shake his head. He had not eaten anything. It had not seemed important.

  “Yeah. I thought so.” Maggie held out the bag to Trey, who inexplicably did not seem to want to meet Maggie’s gaze.

  He reached for the food, and when their hands touched, Trey’s eyes darted up, his pupils dilating. Perhaps Maggie had built up an electric charge as she entered the building. It seemed unlikely, as the relative humidity was high enough in Seattle to typically avoid static discharge, but what else could explain Trey’s reaction? The lines of logic snaked around, offering up another solution, but Darc pushed them away.

  Maggie backed away suddenly, reinforcing the static discharge theory. “Um. Make sure he eats it, okay?” she asked Trey. “There’s something in there for you, too.”

  “Hey, thanks,” Trey muttered. He watched Maggie leave with a wave to both of them before turning back to Darc. “Darc, go after her.”

  “Why?”

  Trey ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. “Because she still cares about you. She brought you food, for hell’s sake.”

  “I know she cares. She told me as much when she left. It changes nothing.”

  “Whatever.” Trey reached inside the bag, pulling out a sandwich and handing it to Darc. “But you’re going to eat this.”

  Darc took the food, noting that it was made up of fried eggs and cheese on toasted white bread. It was Darc’s favorite breakfast, at least for those times he had to eat while traveling. Otherwise, it was simply fried eggs and toast with orange juice.

  The gray landscape of his emotions rose up within him, threatening the precision of the clean lines of light that pointed his path forward. Darc pushed down the gray, taking a bite of the sandwich. It surprised him to note that he was, indeed, hungry.

  “That’s better.” Trey fished around inside of the bag once again, pulling out another sandwich. “Bacon and sausage and egg sandwich. Man, I love me my breakfast meats.” He looked over his shoulder in the direction that Maggie had left, perhaps to thank her for the meal.

  These meals were designed to be eaten on the move, so Darc began moving. He would have alerted Trey to that fact, but his mouth was full and it should be readily apparent to his partner what was happening as soon as he turned back around.

  “Hey! Darc! Where are you going?” Trey yelled out, running to catch up.

  Alas, Darc always managed to overestimate his partner’s deductive abilities.

  CHAPTER 2

  The building that housed Birds of a Feather was new and glitzy. Trey had heard about the site before, of course. It was kinda infamous for starting out as a Christian dating service that quickly devolved into a no-holds-barred booty call website.

  The C.E.O. was some young buck that seemed to have nothing in the way of morals. Trey had heard through the grapevine that the guy had been linked to every socialite in Seattle at one point or another.

  Apparently he was a huge thrill seeker, too. Liked to bungee-cord dive, scuba with sharks, that kind of thing. Trey shuddered. Risking your life for your job was one thing. Choosing to do it on your off time? Two steps away from crazy as a cuckoo clock.

  The automatic doors in the lobby swished open as Trey and Darc approached. The receptionist, a young brunette who looked like she probably modeled in her off-time, gave them a huge smile as they approached.

  “Can I help you?” The girl had dimples, too. She’d probably been handpicked out of hundreds of applicants for that very reason. And for a cushy job at a huge company that seemed to be doing nothing but going up? Trey couldn’t blame her.

  He flashed his badge at her, and the girl’s smile diminished by a couple of watts. Yeah. Happened all the time.

  “We need to talk to someone in charge here.”

  The receptionist seemed a bit flustered at that. “Well, our C.E.O.’s not in quite yet, but I believe his mother is.”

  “His mother?” Trey was incredulous. “His mother works…” He waved his hand around, indicating all the pictures of gorgeous men and women scantily clothed, some together in more-than-friendly embraces. “…here?”

  “Yes. She’s very involved in the day-to-day operations.”

  “Well then, yes. We’d love to talk with her.”

  The receptionist pressed a button on the console, then smiled at Trey once more. “She’s on her way. Why don’t you have a seat over there?” She pointed to a lounge area with couches. As he went to sit down, Trey leaned in closer to Darc and muttered under his breath, “Okay, that’s weird.”

  Darc just looked at him with a flat expression. Right. Why would it be weird to have a mother and son working on what amounted to a sex website together? Nothing strange going on here, folks. One more indicator of the fact that Darc saw the world differently than the rest of the human population.

  Before Trey could go far, however, a young woman with an angry expression on her face stalked toward the receptionist’s desk. Trey hung back to listen. One, because he was curious. Two, because you never knew what kind of interesting information you could get when people were pissed off.

  “Angela, is he here yet?” the angry woman barked.

  “No, he’s not. Gail, you know he doesn’t usually get in until at least 10 or 11,” the receptionist answered in a consoling tone. Trey guessed that Gail must either be a friend of Angela or someone important, if the receptionist let her talk to her that way.

  “Yeah. That’s only one of the hundreds of problems I have with this place,” Gail groused. She wasn’t nearly as attractive as Angela, but Trey figured that at least half of that was the fact that she was dressed in a baggy flannel shirt, low-rise jeans, and Converse. In addition, her auburn hair was disheveled, and she appeared to be wearing no makeup. Granola hipster? Or tech? From the seeming lack of social skills, Trey was inclined to think tech.

  “Sorry,” the young brunette murmured. “I’ll let you know the moment he arrives.”

  “You know what? Don’t bother.” Gail stalked off in the opposite direction from where she came from. Trey approached the desk.

  “Hey,” he said, and the receptionist jumped. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay. I just thought you were over there with your partner.”

  “Yeah, I just wanted to know where the nearest bathroom was,” Trey improvised. “Angela, was it?”

  The young woman glanced up at him, surprised. “How did you… Oh, you heard me talking to Gail, didn’t you?”

  Trey shrugged. “Yeah. Wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. Couldn’t help hearing her.”

  “Right?” Angela lowered her voice a bit. “She gets a little loud when she’s mad.”

  Nodding his head, Trey smiled back. “My captain’s like that, too. She works for the company, I’m guessing?”

  “Yeah. The head of website design. Came on when the whole thing was just starting. Actually, that’s probably why…” Angela stopped, seemed to think better of what she was saying, and pointed down the hall. “The restrooms are right down there on the left. That’s what you asked me for, right?”

  Trey was usually good about feeling his way around a tricky conversation. She may have stopped whatever it was that she was about to say, but the smile still seemed genuine. Trey decided to push just a little further with the conversation.

  “Thanks.” He turned to head off to the restroom, then paused, as if he had just had a thought. “Can you tell me something before I go?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Well, it seemed like Gail wasn’t too happy. Can you tell me why?” Angela stiffened up and her eyes darted around the lobby, apparently looking for anyone that might overhear the conversation. “I wouldn’t ask, but it might help in our investigation.”

  “Oh, you’re investigating something? I mean, of course you are, why else would you be here?” She seemed to realize what she had just said and blushed. “I mean—”

  “Don’t worry about it.”
Trey grinned at her. “But what do you think? Can you help me out?”

  Angela seemed to think about it for a moment, but then shrugged. “I guess so. Can’t see what it would hurt.” She looked off in the direction that Gail had gone. “From what I’ve heard, she’s been pretty mad since the website changed.”

  “Oh, you mean from when…?”

  “Yeah, she’s like a Super-Christian or something. Hates everything the company’s become. She’s not shy about saying it, either.” Angela wrinkled up her nose.

  “So, why’d she stay?” Trey asked. Didn’t make sense. If she was so morally opposed to the whole thing, why stick around to watch it go down the proverbial toilet?

  Once more, Angela scanned the lobby for listeners. “Well, I think she’s in love with the C.E.O. They knew each other from college, and she sort of followed him around from thing to thing. She says it’s about insurance or whatever, but… that’s what I think. She’s like obsessed with him.”

  The click of high heels on the polished black marble floors behind her caused Angela’s entire persona to change. She straightened up her shoulders, put back on her professional reserve, and began speaking to Trey in a clipped tone. If Trey hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn she was a completely different person altogether.

  “Detective, I will check on the whereabouts of Mrs. Doherty for you if you will give me just a moment.” She moved as if to once more press the button. Trey started at the name. It was familiar to him. What was it about that name?

  “That won’t be needed, Angela. I’m here.” The voice was a vibrant alto, and the woman attached to it was striking. Her graying shoulder-length hair swept back from a high forehead to reveal piercing steel blue eyes. Her lips were strong but thin, with an aristocratic sweep to them as they traveled from the nose out to the cheek. Right now, they were pressed into a warm smile that lit up her entire face.

  There weren’t many times that Trey felt outclassed. He often was outclassed, but he rarely felt it.

  He did right now.

  “Hello, Mrs. Doherty. My name’s Detective Keane. My partner over there is Detective Darcmel.” Trey waved a nervous hand at Darc, who was making his way over.

  “A pleasure to meet you both. I’m Candice Doherty. What can I do for you?”

  “Well,” Trey started, “two of your employees ended up dead last night. Together.”

  Mrs. Doherty reached out a hand to steady herself on the reception desk. “Oh. Oh, my.” She passed a hand across her face. “Who, may I ask?”

  “Robert Jergesen and Trisha Blake,” Darc responded. Mrs. Doherty moved her gaze to the bald detective before responding.

  “Robert I know, of course. He headed up our marketing. Brilliant man. But who is…?” She waved her hand, asking the question with her body as much as she did with her words.

  “Um, she was a temp, Mrs. Doherty,” Angela stepped in. “We brought her in from Apple One. She’d only been here a couple of weeks or so. She was working for Robert, actually.”

  “I see.” The woman’s tone hardened almost imperceptibly. “And what were they doing together?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t talk about that, ma’am,” Trey said with deference. “We just need a list of your employees, if you would be willing to provide it.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Mrs. Doherty tapped Angela on the shoulder. “Contact H.R. and make sure they get a copy of that list over to these detectives at once.” She turned her attention back to Trey, her smile still warm, even if it was a bit distracted. “We want to do everything we can to help, Detective… Keane, was it?”

  Trey nodded, surprised. People in power typically ignored those they found beneath them, but this woman had gone to the trouble to remember his name. He was impressed.

  The entranceway doors behind them slammed open, and a loud clatter caused Trey to turn around. Just inside the doors was a sharply dressed young man wearing sunglasses. He was scooping up a set of keys that he had dropped. As he stood, he swayed a bit before moving forward.

  “Hello, everyone! I’m here, I’m here.” The man tipped an imaginary hat to the receptionist, making a kissing noise to the young woman, who blushed furiously. Mrs. Doherty made a sour face.

  “Caden, where have you been?” Her tone was less than pleased.

  “Mother, I was just…” He swayed a bit as he refocused on the now stern woman. “I was out late last night—”

  “Again,” she interrupted.

  “Yes, again,” Caden replied, sweeping an unsteady bow. “I’m young and rich, mother. I’m supposed to stay out late. It’s practically a job requirement.”

  “You’re the C.E.O. of this company. You’re supposed…” She broke off, seeming to realize that there were two detectives present. “Never mind. We’ll discuss this later.”

  Trey stepped forward, presenting his hand. “Caden Doherty, I’m guessing?”

  Caden tipped up the sunglasses, peering with bloodshot eyes at Trey. “Yes, I am. Who the hell are you?”

  “Caden!” his mother hissed. “This is Detective Keane. He and his partner are investigating a murder. Robert and that temp girl.”

  “Robert? Marketing Robert? Pshhh!” The young man flapped his hand, dismissing his former employee. “He was an ass. A dinosaur. Just wanted to put boobs in everything.” He grinned at Trey, his attitude doing a one-eighty. “Don’t get me wrong, boobs are great, but you’ve got to have more going on than that. Right, Angela?” He leered at the receptionist, who once again blushed a deep red. “But it’s too bad about the temp. She was kinda hot.” Angela’s lips pressed together at that, her color returning to a more normal hue.

  “Mr. Doherty, would you mind telling me where you were last night between 6 and 10 pm?” Trey asked.

  Caden clapped a hand on Trey’s shoulder with a little too much vigor. “Sure thing. Me and some friends went to Canlis for dinner, then we headed over to Re-Bar for some dancing and adult libations.” He grinned back at his mother, whose lips almost disappeared, they were pressed so tightly together. “Had to check it out for our event next month, you know? Just to make sure?” He laughed at what he clearly thought was his own very funny joke.

  “You had to check it out for the fifth time this week?” Mrs. Doherty chided.

  “Hey, can’t be too careful, Mommy. Sex and alcohol… kinda my business, don’t cha think?” Caden turned back to the two detectives. “We’ve had a whole bunch of events leading up to Valentine’s Day. Rented out the entire Hotel 1000 for the big day tomorrow. All the rooms and everything.”

  “Oh, didn’t want to go with the Four Seasons?” Trey asked, being careful to keep his tone respectful. This guy was a douche.

  “That dump?” The young man snickered. “That’s where youth goes to die. Hotel 1000’s deck.”

  “Deck?”

  “Yeah. Deck.” Caden lifted his sunglasses again and looked more closely at Trey. “You know what? Four Seasons is probably more your speed.”

  Wow. Not just a douche. A d-bag of the highest order.

  “Yeah, okay.” Trey turned from Caden to nod at Mrs. Doherty. He then reached out to tap Darc on the arm to let him know it was time to go. “I think we have everything we need for the moment. Thank you for your help.”

  The woman nodded, clearly distracted by her son.

  Checking out Caden’s alibi had just become Trey’s first priority. He might not have done it, but right now Trey really found himself hoping that maybe he had.

  * * *

  Darc listened as Trey muttered to himself. He was either angry or having a manic episode. The bands of light in Darc’s mind had the percentages at about fifty-fifty.

  “It’s just… I mean… He was so condescending.” Trey waved his hands around, almost striking Darc in the face. Darc began to experience some concerns regarding Trey’s ability to navigate the vehicle in his present state of agitation.

  “We will double-check his alibi, but my calculations suggest that there is less tha
n a 35 percent probability that he committed the murders,” Darc responded. He found that the stating of facts often had the unintended result of calming his partner down.

  “Really?” Trey pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “Shit. I kinda wanted it to be him.”

  “It may still be, but there is someone else that merits more immediate consideration.” The glowing tracks of logic wrapped themselves together, forming a symbol that spoke of greater certainty. The green of likely, not the blue of near-certainty.

  “Oh, yeah. Right. The website chick?”

  The streams of logic formed a partial image of infant chickens that was immediately discarded in favor of a young human female. Darc detested idiomatic speech. But Trey’s reference was unexpected.

  “Why do you suspect the website designer?” Darc may have been over on the couch at that point, but he had heard everything. The ins and outs of that particular conversation seemed wrapped up in the gray of emotional interference.

  “Well, she’s a pissed off Super-Christian who’s in love with her douchebag of a boss. Seems like she’d be someone who would want to knock off a few philanderers while bringing shame on the company, y’ know?”

  “That is not the person to whom I was referring.”

  Trey swerved around a slow-moving vehicle, then turned his head to peer at Darc. “Okay then. Spill it. Who?”

  More idioms. Darc wrapped a tendril of information around the gleaming streams of logic, then decided to answer Trey, once the meaning became clear.

  “The original suspect in the killings more than five years ago. Ronald Doherty.”

  Trey slammed his fist against the steering wheel again, causing the Land Rover to swerve to the left several feet. “Dammit! That’s what I couldn’t think of. I knew the name Doherty was familiar. Just couldn’t remember where I’d heard it before.”

  Trey might have been seeking some sort of solace in that confession, but Darc did not understand his partner’s dilemma. Not in the slightest. Darc had no conception of what it would feel like to not recall random bits of data and then to be unable to fit those bits together to form a cohesive whole. The thought of living in that manner caused Darc to mentally recoil.