The ghost blurred to the floor, and I realized with a start that she was imitating the position she’d died in. Reaching out with one arm, she pointed toward the empty driveway. Upward Path. Upward Path.
I frowned. Was this another demonstration of their insanity? If that was even a term that applied to something that wasn’t really human, anymore. “I don’t understand—”
The van. Upward Path.
The last vestige of Ethan and Evan’s mother was pushing past the shattered remnants of her memory to give me a clue on a silver platter. I resisted the urge to slap myself on the forehead. “Okay. I’ve got you.” I pulled my new phone out and tapped in a quick search.
There it was—Upward Path Recovery Center. I clicked on the link and scrolled through the main page of the site. The pictures made the place look like some sort of upscale resort, with golf courses, tennis courts, and lots of smiling, photogenic people in khakis and polo shirts.
And, right in the background of the web site’s main page, sat a row of identical black vans. No logo decorated their sides, but right above the license plate on each was a stylized ‘U P’ logo.
I stared at the picture, unable to believe my eyes. The emotional storm of the house had subsided, but my own emotions threatened to overcome me.
It was here all along, waiting for me to come ask.
I clenched my fist and resisted the urge to punch a hole in the wall. “I’ve still got time,” I muttered under my breath.
From behind, an ethereal voice. Evan? Ethan?
Information conveyed, the mother stood before me once more. No matter how many times I did this, it still made me feel shitty, like a junior sadist frying ants with a magnifying glass. But even if they were the faintest imitations of life, they deserved the truth. They deserved peace.
I pushed. “You don’t have to worry about your boys.” Her face turned confused, but I could tell I had both ghosts entranced as I began to convey the horrible truth of their existence to them. “What you think you are, that’s not real. You’re a residue of pain, the shadow of a memory. What you were is in a better place. You don’t have to hold on. You don’t have to hurt, anymore.”
The father went first, and a rush of wind flowed in through the open door as he left. I could sense that the mother still rejected the truth, hanging on the threshold of dissipation.
“I’ll save the boys,” I promised, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t a lie. “It’s going to be okay.”
More wind, and all at once, I stood alone in an empty house. Something like a deep sigh went through the place, as though the energy of pain and terror that once had filled it had created some vast internal pressure which now eased.
I turned to face the open door, no longer caring if anyone saw me. There was work to do.
CHAPTER 18
Valentine
Phoenix, Arizona—Friday evening
“We caught a lucky break, here. Empty lot on one side, house for sale on the other. This place has been a short-term vacation rental for the last few years, so the neighbors across the way are used to new folk coming and going.” Morgan led Val and Eliot through the foyer into the front room. The trio stopped in front of the sliding glass doors leading to the patio and backyard.
Val reached out to pull the curtains to one side and allowed a smile to spread across his face. Past the back fence, the land dipped down into a shallow ravine dotted with intermittent cholla and ironwood. The view was a straight shot into the Sikoras’ backyard. Despite the low block fence surrounding the opposite property, their perspective gave them a prime view of the backyard and the rear of the house. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “I won’t ask how much it’s costing us.”
“The director has, surprisingly, been pretty relaxed about any budgetary issues.”
“What do you make of that?” Val let the drape fall back and turned to face the other agent. “Seems out of character.”
“Something’s up,” Eliot muttered. “This whole town makes me itch.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow at Val, but he just shrugged. “The agent they sent to bring us the car had some interesting information.” He gave a short summary of the lack of activity in the area and concluded, “So, yeah, I can see why you’re itchy, Eliot.”
The other agent fidgeted in place, then shrugged. “Be back. I’m going to start hauling in equipment.”
Morgan waited until he was out of earshot before turning back to Val. “Are you keeping a close watch on him?”
“You’re joking, right?” Val scoffed. “What else have I been doing over the years?”
“I’m just saying. He looks a little more tight-wound than usual, Matthew. The last thing we need is for him to lose it in the middle of a case.”
He stared at her for a moment, then grinned. “We’re all monsters, darling. Some of us just handle the load a little better than others.”
“I can count on you and George not go through this subdivision like a buzzsaw, too. You and I both know that there are—levels, shall we say.”
Val patted his hip. “It won’t be a problem.”
“I know he’s been a friend for a long time—”
“Not an issue,” Val growled, and her eyes widened, just a bit.
“Understood.”
“Moving on—Agent Anjewierden’s numbers, or lack thereof?”
“I’ll need to see the data, but that’s not a good sign. There are some spells I can try, to see if we’re dealing with something that’s gone unnoticed. But it’s all packed up.”
“Let’s get to it, then.”
With the U-Haul backed up to the garage, they could move equipment in and out of the house without much chance for being noticed. And while the big truck had a cozy command center, setting up on a couple of folding tables in the living room was far more appealing.
Val promptly lost their security deposit by screwing camera mounts into the drywall of several of the south-facing windows. He took a few moments to neatly collate the bundle of cabling, then duct-taped it to the carpet so none of them stumbled over it.
Eliot double-stepped down the stairs. “Parabolics are in place. If they pop their heads outside, we should have no issues keeping an ear on what’s going on.”
“Where do you want the table, George?” Val asked, as the other agent wheeled his chair into the room. The front porch had too many stairs for him to navigate, but the step up from the garage into the kitchen was short enough that a set of folding ramps from the U-Haul worked just fine.
“Few feet back from the sliding glass doors, we don’t anyone to spot it and wonder what’s up.” Val unfolded the table and retrieved the bundles of cables as the other agent started laying out the computer equipment he’d hauled in on his lap.
“I’m starving, anyone else?” Eliot wondered aloud. There was a breakfast nook between the kitchen and dining room. Armed with a pair of binoculars, he scanned the target house. “I’ve got a good angle on the side where the RV is parked, we should set up one of the cameras in here.”
“I call pizza,” George announced. “Any takeout menus in the kitchen?”
“It’s always pizza with you,” Val grinned. “Sicilian?” The other agent frowned, then scratched his noise with his middle finger. “Thin crust, it is.” He headed back out to the truck for another load of gear.
Most of the equipment they needed was stored in heavy-duty plastic Pelican cases. Other items weren’t nearly as portable. Considering the neighborhood, Val figured it was safe to leave the heavily-laden weapons rack on one wall loaded up, for the time being. The rune-inscribed holding units on the opposite wall weren’t removable, and the furniture in the house was a lot more comfortable than the chairs in the mobile command center. With a satisfied nod, he hefted the last two cases and stepped out of the truck.
While on the surface the vehicle was physically identical to the company’s standard equipment, the sensitive contents made for certain requirements when it came to security. Rather than the typica
l gravity handle on the roll-up door, the Division M truck came equipped with an automatic locking solenoid that was engaged and disengaged by an unobtrusive numeric keypad. Val hauled the door down, waited for the heavy click of the lock, then hauled the Pelican cases inside the garage. Once in, he bumped the button to close the door with his elbow and stepped back into the house.
“This is all of it,” he announced. “Put any special requests down on the pad and I’ll hit a grocery store later. I want to keep any traveling down to a minimum, we don’t want to spook any of the neighbors.”
“Yes, dad,” George intoned. Morgan tinkled laughter; Eliot just shook his head. “Can you check the feed on camera three? I’m not getting a signal.”
Val suppressed a grin of his own and traced the cable. Hopefully we can wrap this up before we all go stir crazy. Come soon, Helen. You and I have a date with destiny.
Paxton
Phoenix, Arizona—Friday night
Kent, as it turned out, had heard of Upward Path.
“Unreal, kid. They’ve got ads on the TV every time I change the channel. ‘If you don’t get help at Upward Path, please get help somewhere.’ They’ve got a big-ass rehab facility out on Estrella Drive.”
“Where’s that?”
“Out toward Laveen. Nice and isolated.” He thought about it for a second. “Shit. Come to think of it, the Mayor’s smarmy little Chief of Staff is on their board of directors.”
“That’s a handy way to keep an eye on the case,” Cassie pointed out. I frowned as the shadow of a thought flitted around in the back of my head but focused on driving.
“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s been trying to steer avenues of investigation or anything like that.”
The idea coalesced, and I asked, “But which came first? Was he on the mayor’s staff before he was with Upward Path or after?”
“Why does it matter?” Kent said.
“Well, I thought we could check out the facility, but is it a case where he weaseled his way into the mayor’s office, or into Upward Path? We know for a fact they used one of the vans on the home invasion, but it’s just a guess that they used one for the other body dumps.”
“If we look into him, we’ll need to keep it quiet. I don’t want it coming back to bite us.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” I said. “I called the De La Rosas earlier today. Karen is doing some digging for me on the mystical side of things, and Carlos thought he and a few of the other guys could head this way soon.”
Kent squirmed in his seat. “I can pretty much guarantee you there’s not going to be a consulting fee. Not that I don’t appreciate the help, mind you, but—”
I laughed. “I love when you get nervous, Pops. I got this one.”
“Hell, kid, I know Esteban and his crew don’t come cheap. I can’t ask you to do something like that.”
“I owe you, old man. This doesn’t even begin to cover it. Forget it.”
“You don’t owe me a thing, son. Don’t think like that. That was the milk of human kindness.”
“Exactly,” I said. I turned into Kent’s subdivision and glanced over at him. “Who knows how I’d have turned out without you guys to help keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Kent scoffed. “You were damn near a finished product, boy. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“You can protest all you want, but I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Cassie leaned into the conversation. “Trust me, Mr. Sikora. I’ve seen his bank account, it shouldn’t be an issue.”
He chuckled. “That’s a pretty serious step, Pax. You sure about this young lady?”
I was thankful for the darkness as I blushed and met Cassie’s eyes in the mirror. “About as sure as it gets.”
Kent laughed again. I shook my head as I pulled into the driveway. As we piled out of the Explorer, another car pulled in right behind us. On edge, I stiffened, but Kent put his arm on my shoulder. “It’s all right. That’s Tully. Don’t know why he didn’t call.” He muttered something under his breath, then said, “Head on inside.”
Tully just sat there, engine running, headlights shining on Kent as Cassie and I stepped into the house. Jean looked up from a magazine she was reading. I shot her a look and murmured to Cassie, “I’m going out there. Lock the doors.”
As she threw the deadbolt, I headed to the other side of the house. Right before the bedrooms, I slid through the interior door to the garage. The inside was dim enough that I had to pick my way through, but the window on the opposite wall was my ultimate destination and gave me something to navigate toward.
I phased through the garage wall. Solid once more, I picked my way through the gravel at the side of Kent’s house, trying not to make too much noise. The RV was in a prime position to use it for cover. I crept around the rear, then cut into the driveway while invisible. Tully had gotten out of the car, though he’d left the engine running. He stood in front of the driver’s side headlight, strangely far away from Kent. I approached in time to hear him finish speaking.
“The Chief wants you in his office first thing tomorrow morning.”
“On a Saturday?” Kent sounded incredulous, and it didn’t sound like he was putting any act on it. “What the hell’s this about, Tully?”
“You had instructions. Don’t bring any third parties into the investigation.” This was my first time hearing the man, but something seemed off about his tone. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “You should bring your consultant with you tomorrow so we can clear the air.”
How the hell does he know about me? On impulse, I dropped the cloak. As I appeared behind Tully, Kent jumped slightly. His partner turned and gave me a calm look. That was almost as off-putting as his stilted manner of speaking. “My ears are burning, so I guess you’re talking about me.” I stepped forward and stuck out a hand. “Paxton Locke.”
He looked down his nose at the gesture as though my hand was a piece of dog crap on his shoe, then locked eyes with me. At that moment, I knew for sure and understand what my gut had been trying to tell me. There were no overt signs, but somehow, I had the sense that something at once more and less than Detective Tully Roberts regarded me. Vast and cool and unsympathetic, as the saying went. “Enchanted,” the Tully-thing said.
I pulled my hand back. “I’m sure. You’re here late. Busy night?”
“Clean-up duty,” it said, cocking its head to one side. “You?”
“Clean-up duty, huh?” I resisted the urge to clench my fists. “Must have been one hell of a mess. Why the rush?”
It smiled with one corner of its mouth. It was a disconcerting expression; a funhouse mirror image of a lunatic’s smirk. “Best not to spook the populace.” He uttered the last word with the same flat effect one might use for ‘shoe’ or, more fittingly, ‘cattle.’
“Difficult job, I’d guess.”
“It would surprise you how easy it is to convince those with no desire to see to look the other way.” Its eyes narrowed. “You should try it on for size, instead of poking your nose where it does not belong.”
“Not my style.”
Tully’s fingers twitched, and I considered the obvious bulge of the holstered sidearm under its jacket. It saw me looking, and the smile broadened. A bit too much, I’d say. The corners of his mouth were well back of the molars. “Concerned?”
“Nope.” A gun would be too easy and too obvious. The fact that Tlaloc, or one of its drones, had come forward in such a blatant manner was telling in and of itself. Or, I was completely off-base and the thing was off its rocker. I resisted the urge to call up a force blade.
“You should be, Paxton Locke.”
I shrugged and favored the Tully-thing with a winning smile. “All these things that go bump in the night, they keep telling me how scared I’m supposed to be. Then they go down like chumps.” I made a point of looking Tully over from head to toe. “Buddy, you’re about the tenth worst thing I’ve seen this week.”
It
turned and looked over its shoulder. “Nine o’clock, Sikora. Bring your charming friend. We’ll talk about the future.”
And with that, the thing in the detective suit stepped to one side and marched past to the waiting vehicle. I waited until it slammed the driver’s door and pulled away before I let my hands start to shake.
“What the hell was that all about?” Kent whispered.
“It got your partner. And apparently, it wants to talk.” I stared after the car and resisted the urge to laugh. “The joke’s on you, asshole. I know where you live.” I think.
He rubbed his forehead and grimaced. “Hell, Pax. The mayor’s chief of staff and now the chief of police. If the rot goes that high, what are we going to do?”
I slapped Kent on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” I said with good cheer that was only a little put-on. “Help is on the way.”
CHAPTER 19
Cassie
Phoenix, Arizona—Saturday morning
She sat on top of the covers with crossed legs and stared at the bathroom door.
Things went sideways for a while after Paxton and Kent came back into the house, but things had settled down, now. Sikora had taken a sleeping position in a living room chair, pistol close at hand. Paxton had brought the shotguns in from the rental car, but despite worries of an attack, the house remained still. The only sound was the periodic rush of the furnace, staving off the chill of the desert night.
The clock had long turned over midnight, but she still couldn’t sleep. Cassie had exchanged a few text messages with her dad, reassuring him that she was alive, safe, and not yet ready to come home. Mike Hatcher was only marginally aware of the craziness of Paxton-world, but he’d supported her decision to go along, nonetheless.
A few years ago, her dad would have been less supportive, and understandably so. Less than six months after arriving at Ball State, she’d headed home. She’d spent more time partying than going to class. Forget about homework. Worse than returning home with her tail between her legs was the baggage she brought back. Between parties, alcohol-fueled encounters, and walks of shame, she’d found that she had more than a bit of a taste for alcohol.
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