Hollow Road Page 17

  “Any idea where he is now?” Dez asked. “I’m thinking we’re going to need to talk to him.”

  “Already on it. I’ve got a buddy looking up his vehicle registration as we speak. Hoping to have something within the hour.”

  “One of these days you’re going to get this buddy into a heap of trouble, doing this sort of digging for you,” Dez said.

  “Hey,” Lachlan replied. “I’m not stupid. I never put all my eggs in one basket. You keep using the same sources, people eventually get wise. I like to spread out the work, and I’ve got a lot of people to spread it out to. Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got things cased.”

  Dez rolled his eyes.

  “So what do you want me to do?” Sully asked. “I don’t think I can come with you to talk to him.”

  “No way,” Lachlan said. “Sit tight. You’ve done plenty already.”

  “I’d like to help.”

  “Well, there’s Nora, of course. Maybe she’d tell you something.”

  Unsurprisingly, Dez cut in before Sully had the chance to answer. “No. No way. Sully was stuck down a hole in the woods overnight because of her. It was only because of Pax I was able to find him at all. Forget it. No doubt we need to get some justice for her but, as far as I’m concerned, she’s proven to be nothing but a homicidal maniac. You know what pisses me off in all this? Her boyfriend kills her, and she spends the next thirty years targeting other guys who just happen to be walking through there. That’s wrong. I mean, Lonnie Debenham might have been a victim. Now Emory and Sully. Who knows if there have been others?”

  “None that I could find,” Lachlan said. “I asked. A handful of others got lost in the woods around there, but they came out again. And they had no ghost stories to share. Two of them admitted to going off in search of the ghost, but said they didn’t find anything. Most made like they were on a nature hike—which was bullshit. Quite frankly, with all of these wannabe ghost hunters crawling around Loons Hollow and Hollow Road, I’m surprised more people haven’t gone permanently missing due to no more than their own stupidity.”

  Dez turned to Sully. “So if there are only certain people who become victims, why them? Why not others?”

  “It takes energy for ghosts to manifest in a way that makes them visible to others,” Sully said. “Not in my case so much, because I can see them naturally. But it must take more when it comes to people who don’t normally see ghosts. Maybe there are times she just didn’t have the energy. Or it could be the ones who’ve seen her are more sensitive to spirits than they realized. Or maybe it’s something else.”

  “Such as?”

  “Maybe the people she targeted weren’t random at all.”

  “You’re thinking she deliberately went after the three of you?” Lachlan said. “Why?”

  “No idea about Emory, but she might have targeted me because I was determined to find him and she didn’t want that.”

  “It could be she was leading you to him to help him.”

  “That wasn’t the impression I got,” Sully said. “I’m not basing that on anything more than a feeling but, in my experience, my senses are pretty on about these things. What about Lonnie, though? He disappeared close to the same time she did, right?”

  “He went missing a couple months after her, so no immediate connection there.”

  “Could they have known each other?”

  “Let me put it this way,” Lachlan said. “Lonnie Debenham was a spoiled rich kid who hung around other spoiled rich kids for the most part. Nora Silversmith was what elite snobs in this community would have referred to as ‘trailer trash.’ She and her boyfriend lived in a dinky rental house on the wrong side of the tracks, and the newborn baby meant they weren’t going to have the money to save up for anything better. There was no way she might have inadvertently run into Lonnie Debenham at the Blue Swan Social Club or something. They would have been in completely different circles, no way their paths would have crossed socially.”

  “What did she do for a living?” Dez asked.

  “At the time, she was a stay-at-home mom. Before the baby was born, she was a supermarket cashier. And before you ask, no, it was nowhere near where Lonnie lived. Anyway, the Debenhams are the sort of people who get their groceries delivered. Can you see Thomas wandering through the frozen food aisle while his wife checks the salads-in-a-bag for soggy lettuce?”

  Dez shrugged. “Just a thought.”

  “Well, like I said before, when Lonnie disappeared, there weren’t many stones left unturned. Investigators talked to every family member, friend, enemy and colleague they could find. All it got them were more dead ends. That said, those investigators weren’t me.”

  “And you think you can do better,” Dez summed up.

  “I’m going to have to try. The Debenhams want answers, and I’m determined to be the one to get them. Let’s not forget, even if every single stone was unturned, something beneath might have been missed if it was the wrong set of eyes doing the looking.”

  Lachlan’s phone dinged, and he checked the screen. A satisfied smile drifted over his face. “First things first: you and I are going to go have a chat with Nathaniel Porter, Braddock.”

  “Your contact came through, I take it.”

  “Yep. And the good news is he hasn’t left Kimotan Rapids.”

  Sully was about to ask what he should do when Sergeant Forbes Raynor solved the problem for him, his number showing up on the call display as the handset’s ringer went off.

  “Hello?”

  “Gray. We need to have a chat. You at your brother’s?”

  “Yep. Why?”

  Dez crossed the couple of feet from the counter to the table, looming over Sully as the minimal conversation continued. “What’s he want?”

  “Is that Braddock?”

  “Yes, but he’s heading out right away. Was there something you needed to see him about too?”

  “Nope. You’ll do for now. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be over soon.”

  “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  “Your uncle,” was all he said before severing the connection.

  “What does he want?” Dez asked again as Sully returned his phone to the table.

  The truth would have Dez looking for an excuse to stay, and Sully needing to come up with a good story, fast. A white lie seemed simpler. “I don’t know exactly. I’ll find out soon, I guess.”

  Dez turned to Lachlan. “Maybe I should stick around. Raynor was still trying to peg Sully for Betty Schuster’s death. What if that’s on his mind again?”

  “You sitting around here playing nursemaid isn’t going to help anyone,” Lachlan said. “I need you to drive me to find Porter. Your brother’s a big boy, and he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He can take care of himself. Now, come on. Time’s a-wasting.”

  “I’m fine, Dez,” Sully said, providing what extra incentive he could to get Dez out the door. “He isn’t going to arrest me as long as he wants to keep his wife out of major legal trouble. I can handle him.”

  Dez’s furrowed brow and tight lips suggested he wasn’t so sure, but he left with Lachlan anyway. Sully went to the window and watched as Dez’s SUV emerged from the direction of the back of the building, turned onto Twenty-Fifth and drove away.

  Sully played with Pax for a few minutes to keep himself from watching the windows or pacing. He’d known, after the recent phone conversation with Forbes, Justice Prescott Montague had hinted at some wrongdoing by a circle of wealthy and powerful men, including Lowell Braddock. It struck at the heart of Sully’s deepest desire: to find something he could use to bring Lowell down, to have him arrested and held in custody. Only if Lowell was somewhere unreachable would there be safety in telling Dez the truth about what the man had done to Flynn, Aiden and Sully.

  Less than fifteen minutes had passed when the buzzer sounded. Having checked to ensure it was indeed Forbes, Sully pressed the button to allow him upstairs.

  It said something that Pax di
dn’t growl or bark when Forbes came in, although he didn’t beat out a happy greeting with his tail either. The dog was complacent which, given this was Forbes, was likely the best the situation was going to get.

  Sully allowed the Major Crimes investigator into the small apartment. He hadn’t made up the couch, so he led the way to the kitchen table instead. The police detective took the chair Lachlan had recently vacated.

  Never one to beat around the bush, Forbes launched right into it. “I haven’t had the opportunity to touch base with you about what Montague hinted at. I wasn’t sure whether I should start asking questions with your brother around.”

  “Don’t. Dez doesn’t know. He’s not really close to Lowell anymore, but he was while growing up. There are things he doesn’t know, that I don’t know how to say.”

  Forbes leaned forward. “Such as?”

  That was the question. There were plenty of things to say. The question was how many of those things could safely be said to Forbes.

  “Why are you so interested?” he asked instead. “You don’t even know if Montague was on the level. It could have been nothing more than him trying to deal his way out of a murder charge. How do you know he actually knows anything of value?”

  “I don’t, which is why I’m here. If there’s really something seedy in Lowell Braddock’s past, something involving a gang of rich men, I’d like to know about it.”

  A possibility flashed into Sully’s brain, one he hadn’t considered. “Your father’s the mayor. Are you concerned he’s wrapped up in something you didn’t know about? I mean, if there’s some weird circle of powerful people involved in something not so good, it stands to reason your father might know about it. It’s his job to know the major players in this city, after all. He’d socialize with them, wouldn’t he?”

  Forbes’s narrowed eyes suggested he was of a mind to argue. “My father’s not that kind of man. He may be the mayor, but he’s not particularly wealthy, and he’s not what I’d call ‘in with the in crowd.’ ”

  “No, but maybe he wants to be. People will do all sorts of things to move up in the world. We’re almost due for another municipal election, aren’t we? If he’s voted out, what’s he left with?”

  “He’s not going to be voted out.”

  “You sure about that? There are a lot of pissed off people, given the current economy. Plenty of rich people lost money in the flood, and they’re paying some really high taxes these days. They’re pretty annoyed lately, at least according to the papers. Property taxes are crazy high on downtown condos and businesses.”

  “You’ve been doing a lot of reading.”

  “Nothing much else to do when you’re supposed to be dead. Our neighbour across the hall gives me her papers when she’s done with them. I like knowing what’s going on in the world.”

  “Look, you can believe this or not, but my father has nothing to do with my interest in this info Montague hinted at. If there’s something going on, something that involves rich, powerful people like Lowell Braddock, I’d like to find out about it.”

  That was, of course, quite possibly true. Forbes was the kind of man who was eager for career advancement, but didn’t necessarily have the skill or likability to pull it off without a little help. He was in his forties, working his way closer to the natural end of his policing career. Sully knew he coveted a place in administration, more than likely the chief’s role. No way he was getting there without a good nudge. A solid gold case, one that would make the news—possibly even nationally, if he could help it—would be a pretty decent step in the right direction. Forbes’s father was mayor, and therefore head of the police commission, but conflict would preclude him from selecting his son for the top police job. Forbes would need to earn the undying respect of others on the future hiring committee and in the public realm to earn himself a promotion of that nature.

  His reasons for being here might be less than pure, but he was still here. And he had the drive to solve this problem and more power than Sully did to get there.

  On the other hand, it would mean one more person knew before Dez did—and in this case, it was a person they didn’t particularly like or trust. Dez would see it as a slap in the face. Where it would leave the brothers’ relationship was anyone’s guess. But at least if they were both alive and on this side of the prison walls, Sully stood a chance at fixing anything he’d inadvertently broken.

  “What would you like to know?” Sully asked.

  A flash of a triumphant smile on Forbes’s lips was quickly pushed back. “Let’s start easy. What kind of relationship do you have with your uncle?”

  “A nonexistent one. He thinks I’m dead, and I need to keep it that way.”

  “He was central in your committal to Lockwood, I understand.”

  Sully nodded. He took a breath. This was it, his opportunity, if he was willing to make the leap.

  He knew what he had to do. To say nothing would mean nothing happening. Lowell would continue to walk free while Sully was forced to hide in the shadows, living a half-life as a dead man.

  “He was central in a lot more than that.”

  Forbes inched forward on his chair. Any farther and he would be on the floor. He didn’t say any more, didn’t ask the questions Sully could see burning on his face, in the pinch of his lips, in the shine of his eyes. It was the expression of a starving man eyeing up a steak on the grill.

  Sully didn’t like the idea he was the steak. Forbes wouldn’t have his best interests at heart. He knew that. But he also knew if he played his cards right, Forbes could prove to be his ally, whether he cared to be or not.

  Mind made up, Sully told Forbes the truth. All of it. By the time he finished, Forbes’s jaw had gone slack.

  A silence fell into which neither of them stepped. Sully waited, knowing Forbes would eventually have to speak to the claims Sully had laid out.

  “Those are extremely serious allegations,” Forbes said at last. “Do you have any proof?”

  “I might have had. Betty had a thumb drive containing a recorded conversation with Lowell, supposedly containing evidence about his murder of Aiden. I had it in my possession briefly, but didn’t have the chance to listen to it. My dad found it, and died confronting Lowell over it.”

  “It makes no sense. From what you say, everything starts with the boy. Why kill his five-year-old nephew in the first place? I mean, did he abuse the kid or something? Was he worried Aiden would say something?”

  “I didn’t get that impression. Aiden wasn’t afraid of Lowell.”

  “And you know that in your creepy way.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it, sure. Aiden showed me his death. That’s how I know beyond a doubt Lowell drowned him.”

  “Still doesn’t answer why. These ghosts of yours, they can’t tell you?”

  “They can only tell me what they know. If they don’t know why they died, there’s nothing more they can say.”

  “Couldn’t they find out, though?” Forbes asked. “I mean, they could follow their killers around or something, couldn’t they?”

  “Sure, and they do sometimes,” Sully said. “But it’s not that simple. Most people who have gotten away with murder aren’t going to run around talking about it. They guard their secrets. Ghosts can’t see inside a person’s brain, not unless they were a mind reader in life.”

  “So all you need is to find a mind-reading ghost. Sounds simple enough.”

  Sully sensed sarcasm and allowed himself a slight smile. “Right. I’ll get on that. In the meantime, maybe you can start doing some quiet digging. One thing you might want to do is see if you can figure out where Thackeray Schuster ended up. It could be he’s in hiding. I know he was more afraid than I am. But I think there’s a good possibility he’s dead, possibly murdered.”

  “You’d see him then, wouldn’t you?”

  “Not everyone who’s murdered sticks around. I haven’t seen Betty or Harry around either. Might turn out the three of them found each
other and crossed over. You’ll also want to check into Harry’s death, for that matter. I’m willing to bet Dr. Gerhardt was more involved in it than he’s admitting.”

  “Alleging the doctor killed a patient is a huge deal. I can’t just walk in there and do that.”

  “I’m hoping you aren’t planning on walking in anywhere and throwing any of this around. The reason I haven’t made more progress isn’t just because I’m not in a position to do much with it. It’s also because I realize how out there it all sounds. I know it’s going to be hard to prove—maybe even impossible—but something needs to happen. These people can’t be allowed to get away with this just because they’re rich and powerful.”

  “I don’t care about rich and powerful,” Forbes said. “And for the record, no, I’m not planning on throwing this stuff around. I know how to play my cards close. But a few things are going to have to be done, among them autopsies on the bodies.”

  Autopsies. The word called something else to mind. “Lowell’s wife Kindra is the chief forensic pathologist. I’ve always liked her, but now I don’t know. What if she covered something up for him?”

  “That’s a possibility. But maybe there weren’t autopsies in the first place. If the coroner didn’t have any real questions as to cause and manner of death, there wouldn’t necessarily be a need for a post-mortem. I’d expect there was in the kid’s death, but it might not have showed anything suspicious. The way you described it, he was held under and his body was later found downstream somewhere. It wouldn’t be unusual for there to be bruising on him from anything he bumped up against—if he was alive at that point. And being small, it wouldn’t have taken much pressure for Lowell to hold him down. With an adult, I’d expect far more signs of a struggle than you’d get with a small child.”

  “So she could have missed it, is what you’re saying.”

  “Sure. Or she covered up for her husband. No way of knowing until I can dig further into this. Leave it with me. I’ll pull some files, start trying to wrap my head around it. I’ll contact you with any further questions.”