The Depth of Darkness (Mitch Tanner #1) (29 page)

“Bent,” she said again.

“What is bent? What’s this have to do with
the girl?”

Cassie breathed heavily into the phone, like
she was hiding it from someone, or something, while talking.

“Cassie? Talk to me.”

“That’s what he says his name is. Does Bent
mean anything to you, Mitch?”

“Bent? Do you mean Ben?” I glanced at the
portable hanging on the wall. I thought about calling Sam to find
out if something had happened. “We’ve got a person of interest
named Ben McCree.”

She remained silent for a few moments, then
said, “No, that’s not it. Think, please. Bent? What’s it mean?”

“Bent.” I repeated the word verbally and
mentally several times over. “Bennett? Cassie, Principal Bennett is
the man who was murdered.”

“Bennett,” she said, followed by several
words spoken too low for me to decipher. “Yes!”

“Is Principal Bennett there with you now?” I
asked.

“In a way,” she said. “It’s not like that all
the time.”

“Well, what’s he saying?”

Cassie took a moment to respond. Then, she
whispered, “Bricks, bricks, bricks.”

“What?” By this point, I’d risen and now
stood in the kitchen, waiting for a pot of coffee to brew. I
decided after this I’d buy one of those single serving machines
with the little plastic cups. As often as my nights were
interrupted and called for a heavy dose of caffeine, it’d save me a
lot of time.

“Bricks,” she whispered again. She kept
repeating the word. I’d only watched Cassie in action once before,
and this fell in line with what I saw then.

“Cassie,” I said loudly. “I need you to talk
to me.”

She coughed, then groaned. “Mitch?”

“What’s going on? What is it about
bricks?”

“That’s what he kept saying, Mitch. That, and
he told me time is running out. Soon to be gone. Bricks secured the
wall between the past and the future.”

“What the hell? We’ve got a riddling
ghost?”

Cassie groaned, deeply. I had a feeling it
wasn’t her and that I’d upset a ghost. I said, “Bricks, time
running out, soon to be gone.”

“Yes, Detective,” she said. “Does any of that
make sense?”

“No,” I said. “Can you ask him to
elaborate?”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes, he left.”

“Was it something I said?”

She started to speak, then hesitated. “It’s
not like that. He’s just…gone.”

“When these beings come to you, do you get
any kind of imagery?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Did you tonight? Like maybe an image of
where the girl is or of these bricks?”

“No. There was nothing, Mitch. Blackness and
his words, that’s all.”

“How’s that…” I cut myself off. No point in
asking how the man sounded. It did little to advance our case.
“Okay, listen, Cassie. I’ve got your number on my phone, and you’ve
got mine. You hear anything, get any more visitors, whatever, you
call me. Got it?”

“Okay, Detective.”

“And I’ll do the same.” Although, I didn’t
expect to receive any spectral guests anytime soon.

We hung up and I ran upstairs and showered,
skipped shaving, and got dressed. By the time I returned to the
kitchen, the coffee had brewed. I poured some into a mug while
thumbing Sam’s number. The phone rang several times, then the call
went to voice mail. I called twice more before he answered.

“Sam, you up?”

“What do you think?”

“Probably not.”

He groaned into the phone. I imagined him
sitting up and grabbing his head. He’d had a lot to drink, and I
guessed he’d drank plenty more after I’d left. The clock on the
microwave said it was two-thirty in the morning. He might have only
been asleep for half an hour.

“Cassie called me,” I said.

Sam drew in a sharp breath of air, then
exhaled loudly. “What’d she say?”

“She said that Principal Bennett was with
her.” I wanted his reaction to that before I gave him the rest.

“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out.

“He had a message for us.”

“What was it?”

“He said bricks and that we’d better hurry
the hell up.”

“Hold on.” After a few moments of silence,
followed by the sound of running water, Sam returned to the phone.
“What’s the context of this ghost message?”

“Cassie kept saying bricks over and over
again. And then, I guess his final message, was time was running
out and something about a wall and the past and the future. I
figure he meant the girl. But bricks, I mean, what else do
kidnappers do with bricks other than tie them around someone’s neck
or ankles when they toss them overboard into the water? And if that
were the case, time would have run out long ago.”

“Unless they built something with the
bricks.”

“Or closed something.” I reached into the
cabinet and pulled down a travel mug.

“Mitch, didn’t you say something after we
left McCree’s house about bricks.”

I searched my memory, but could not recall.
“It’s not registering at the moment.”

“Horace or Fairchild, one of them mocking
you.”

“About the bricks in the corner of the yard.”
It came back to me. I pinched the phone between my neck and
shoulder while dumping the contents of my mug into the travel mug.
“Sam, get dressed. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

My headlights washed over Sam’s front lawn as
I turned into his driveway. He stood on the porch, coffee mug in
hand, and with his shoulder holster hanging open. His shirt was
unbuttoned and his slacks looked wrinkled. I was dressed in jeans
and a t-shirt. Sam was dressed for work.

He jogged over, opened the door and plopped
onto the passenger’s seat. “Damn car’s gonna wake the
neighborhood.”

I revved the engine. It sounded like two
dozen lions roaring. “Let’s go, man.” I backed out of the driveway,
shifted into first and pressed the gas. The Boss’s tires screeched
along the asphalt. I could care less who it woke up. We had a
lead.

“Did you call Bridget?” Sam asked.

“No, why?” I hoped he hadn’t.

“Just curious how much we were sharing,
that’s all.”

“Nothing,” I said. “You and me right now.
That’s it. We figure out for sure where the girl is, we can make
some calls. To hell with everyone else for right now.”

“Okay. Just wanted to know where we
stand.”

I raced past an unmarked going at least
thirty over the speed limit. Had to have been a cop I knew. He
didn’t come after me. I wouldn’t have stopped even if he had.

The lights inside McCree’s house, like most
in the neighborhood, were off. The empty driveway offered no clues
as to whether someone was home or not. We drove past and stopped
two houses down. Sam and I approached McCree’s from the front. The
garage door had eight square tinted windows cut into it about head
high. We each shined a flashlight through the window next to us and
peered inside. Our beams bounced off the bare floor. It looked the
same as a few days before.

“Think he fled?” Sam asked.

“I’m wondering,” I replied.

“He came off as an arrogant prick in that
interview, but nothing that he said gave any indication he might
have been involved. It really sounded like he hated his brother and
only loaned his truck to appease their mother.”

I nodded and said nothing.

“Try the door?”

“Nah, let’s go around back.”

We walked around the side of the house. Ten
feet of grass separated McCree’s house from his neighbor’s. A
six-foot privacy fence ringed the backyard. The gate was padlocked,
so we climbed over.

“He didn’t have a dog, did he?” I asked as I
threw my right leg over the top of the fence.

Sam forced a laugh, grabbed the top of the
fence, and pulled himself up. “Better hope not.”

I dropped to the ground and pulled my pistol.
I swept my flashlight across the yard in wide arcs, the barrel of
my gun following along. The shin-high grass could stand to be
mowed. Dew reflected off the tall bending blades.

“Where was it?” Sam asked.

“Other end,” I said, starting toward the
opposite side of the yard. I passed by the sliding glass door and
raised porch. I recalled those two yokels Horace and Fairchild
standing there, mocking me. I swore right then and there that if
they did anything to screw this case up, I’d nail their asses to
the wall. As it turned out, I might have to thank them if this
bricks revelation helped the case. I shined my light through the
uncovered back door. Nothing stood out in the illuminated portion
of the home.

Sam’s light shot ahead of me and fell upon
the stack of bricks. “There you go.”

We continued forward and stopped a few feet
shy of the pile.

“So, you think that’s what the message was
about?” The tone of Sam’s voice told me he still didn’t believe in
Cassie.

I leaned forward to inspect them. “They look
old, worn. Keep that light on them for a minute.” I backed up a
step or two before heading toward the deck. The wooden stairs bent
slightly with each step. I reached the top, turned, and located the
bricks again. “The pile’s maybe half as tall as it had been a few
days ago.”

“These bricks are the ones then.”

“Presumably, yes. But, for what?” I shone my
lights on McCree’s house. The sides and back were siding, but the
front was brick. I grabbed a brick from the pile in each hand and
told Sam to do the same. We kicked at the gate until the latch
broke and then jogged around to the front of the house. I placed
one brick on the ground while holding the other in my hand. It felt
weathered and gritty. I took a step back and aimed my light toward
the bricks, and then on the house.

“They don’t match,” Sam said. “The house is
newer. That brick is old, faded.”

I nodded. They weren’t even close.

“Where do you think they’re from?” Sam
asked.

I thought for a moment. It turned out that
was all it took for me to realize where they’d come from.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Bring those with
you.”

Sam scooped them up and raced toward me. I
stood at the rear of the Boss with the trunk open. He dropped the
bricks inside. I closed the trunk and we both got in the car. I
created as much noise as I had when I picked him up. He didn’t
complain this time.

Five minutes into the ride, Sam asked, “You
going to tell me where we’re going?”

I glanced at him and shook my head.

“Mitch,” he said.

I still said nothing. I knew if I did, he’d
try to talk me out of it.

“Dammit, Mitch!”

I responded by taking a turn at forty miles
per hour. I leaned to my right. Sam slapped against the door. He
cursed. I yelled. Two minutes later I turned into Lana’s
neighborhood. I pulled up to the curb in front of her house and cut
the engine. The sound of our breathing filled the car. The windows
started to fog. I reached for my door handle.

“What’s going on, Mitch?” Sam asked.

“Come with me,” I replied.

Sam grunted his disapproval at having to
enter a situation without any idea why we were there. But he
followed along. This wasn’t the first time, and I knew it wouldn’t
be the last. So long as we both survived the night, that is.

Accessing Lana’s backyard proved to be easier
than McCree’s. We walked around back without any fence or gate to
block us. I stopped in front of the still-in-progress chimney. The
new brick stood stacked off to the side with the old brick next to
it, half as high as its newer counterpart.

“Let’s see how that matches up,” I said,
circling the pile with my flashlight.

Sam walked over and set one of the bricks
from McCree’s onto the pile of the old stuff. We turned them over,
stood them on end, even compared the leftover mortar.

“We can get forensics to verify,” Sam said,
“but I’m pretty sure this is a match.”

I nodded, said nothing, and looked toward the
far end of the house where Lana’s bedroom was located.

“You think this implicates her?” Sam
asked.

“I don’t know. I think you ought to call it
in and have a couple of guys come out and babysit her until we find
out what McCree’s up to.”

“We can go in now.”

I shook my head. “If we go in there, the
whole thing will fall apart. I can’t be anywhere near this case.
Legally, at least.”

Sam pulled out his cell. “I’ll make a
call.”

I heard the sound of water rushing through
pipes, then saw Lana’s bedroom window light up momentarily. The
water trickled to a stop. So did my mind. One single thought spun
out of control and I realized how stupid I’d been.

“Hang up, Sam,” I said.

“What?”

“I know where she is.” I pulled out my cell,
found Bridget’s number in my recently called list, highlighted it
and hit send. A moment later she answered breathlessly. I could
tell I’d roused her from a deep sleep. “Bridget, it’s Mitch. Before
you say anything, you need to hear me out. We’ve got a lead and I
think I know where Debby Walker is.”

The thudding sound repeated itself at regular
intervals. At first, Debby figured it was part of her dream. Only,
she realized she was no longer sleeping. The sound came from the
front of the room. She counted the beats in between. When she
reached ten seconds, it hit again. She dug into her pocket and
pulled out the small flashlight and switched it on. She saw the
wall shake a little on the following occurrence. Someone was
breaking down the wall that imprisoned her.

She grabbed the last unopened bottle of water
and headed toward the back of the room, cutting her light for the
duration of the trip. By this point she had the layout of the room
memorized, including knowing how many steps she had to take both
walking and running. This time she sprinted. Her body crashed into
the wall a half-step too soon, sending her falling back and hitting
her head on the hard floor.