The River Is Dark (19 page)

CHAPTER 24

Liam’s breath came in ragged gasps by the time he crawled over the rock wall beside his hotel.

His clothes hung from him as though two sizes too big, and he felt a raw blister ready to burst on the bottom of his injured foot. The lighted windows in the hotel looked heavenly, and he jogged toward the front door, relishing the feeling of relative safety.

One thing gnawed at his thoughts, and had since his leap from the cliff: where had the other person been? Peter obviously had an accomplice, but he was alone tonight. Liam threw a glance over his shoulder before pulling the front door open.

If the clerk at the desk thought anything of his bedraggled and still-sopping clothes, he kept it to himself. After entering his room, Liam stripped and re-dressed in dry clothes, the feeling of the soft fabric delicious on his skin. Examining the wound on his foot, he saw that Peter’s blade had taken a chunk the size of a dime from between his big and second toes. The hole still seeped blood but didn’t look too serious. After he pushed a ball of gauze between his toes, he shoved his injured foot into a sock. He then disassembled the Sig in a few practiced motions and began to dry each part individually. When he felt satisfied, he reassembled the gun, racked the slide a few times, dry-fired it, and then shook it once more to make sure no moisture remained inside.

Slamming his final mag into the butt of the Sig, Liam reached for the phone near his bed but stopped, his hand hanging in midair. His intentions were to call the sheriff, but what if Barnes had taken him seriously and sent a cruiser up to the mayor’s cabin? The officer would find his truck smashed near the front door, two dead bodies, and shell casings strewn everywhere. Switching gears, he called Dani instead. Her phone rang several times before going to voice mail. Liam hung up and stared at the wall for almost a minute. If the authorities were already at the crime scene, they’d probably go to Dani’s hotel right after they paid his a visit.

Pulling on his still-soaking shoes, he stood from the bed and tucked the Sig into the holster at his back. He needed to get to Dani, tell her what happened, and then figure out their next move. Even Phelps couldn’t deny his story now, with two more bodies piled up. It would be an arduous process, but necessary. Nut would be exonerated and Liam would have to endure a rigorous investigation.

Liam left the hotel and jogged onto a back street that ran parallel to the main drag. Despite the ache in his foot, he covered the mile to Dani’s hotel in a little less than ten minutes, keeping his eyes peeled for police cars the entire time. Very little traffic graced the roads, and as soon as he turned into the hotel parking lot, he almost sighed with relief upon seeing Dani’s Toyota Corolla parked on one side of the building. As he began scanning the rest of the lot for patrol cars, something stopped his search and brought his eyes back to Dani’s car.

Her driver’s-side door stood partially open.

A frantic plea for his instincts to be wrong echoed inside his head as he made his way toward her car. She just left the door open accidentally, or maybe she ran back inside to grab something. When he got closer, his heart tried to seize. Several dark spots stained the pavement near the driver’s side. With the plea still ringing in his head, he pulled the door all the way open.

Drops of blood coated the seat’s upholstery, soaked in like old coffee spills. Half a bloody handprint smeared the tan steering wheel with scarlet, and when he reached out to touch it, it came away tacky. Not dry yet. She couldn’t have been gone for more than half an hour.

Liam stepped back, careful not to tread in any of the dollops of blood on the ground, and leaned against the car next to Dani’s. Now he knew why Peter had been alone at the mayor’s cabin. Tears threatened at the corners of his eyes, but he willed them away, replacing the panic in his chest with white-hot anger. She’d better be alive, or no one would walk away from this.

Liam moved away from the car and was about to get out from beneath the overhead light of the parking lot when he spotted something on the ground. Bending down, he saw that it was Dani’s cell phone. When he turned it on, he immediately closed his eyes—his earlier call along with his number ready to be dialed on the screen seared all else from his mind.

Swallowing the sickness in the back of his throat, he turned toward the way he’d come and began to run as fast as his foot would allow. There was only one place she could be now, and he hoped he wasn’t too late.

CHAPTER 25

The boat’s motor started on the first try.

Keeping the noise at a minimum, Liam tossed away the ropes fastening the boat to the bait store’s dock and pushed away from the planking. After angling the craft into the black current of the river, he dug into his pocket for Dani’s cell phone and tapped in Barnes’s number. The sheriff answered in a hushed voice on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Barnes, it’s me.”

“Boy, what the fuck?”

“I’m assuming you’re at the mayor’s?”

“You assume fucking right.” He heard the sheriff curse again and the rustle of clothing. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m going to the foundry.”

“Boy, you’re past the point of trouble. This place is a bloodbath, and Phelps is on his way. Once he gets here, all hell is going to break loose, you copy?”

“It’s already broken loose, Sheriff.” He stopped, steadying himself. “They took Dani.”

Silence from Barnes’s end. Then, “Suzie’s cousin?”

“Yes. I think they took her to the foundry. I’m going there now, and I need backup.”

“You got a lot of nerve, son. How am I supposed to believe you with all your shit lying around the bodies here?”

“Oh, use your fucking eyes, Barnes!” Liam half yelled. “Does it look like the mayor and his girlfriend were killed by gunfire?” When he received no reply, he continued. “Look, I have to find her. They took her because they knew she was working with me on this, and they knew I’d come for her. They’re trying to end this, Barnes.”

The sheriff wheezed. “I don’t know what I can do, Liam. Phelps is going to have a shit fit when he gets here, since this is blowing his little closed case wide open again.”

Liam steered the boat past the park on his left, where Haines’s body had been found. “You know how little I care about how angry Phelps is going to be? I need help, Barnes. Your town needs help. Stand up and do something. Retirement or not, you have an obligation to do what’s right.” Liam’s anger boiled over, and he hit the end button.

His eyes found the darker smudge on the southern shore that was the foundry and piloted the boat toward it, wishing the motor made less noise. Although, it didn’t matter; he knew he was expected. Liam swung the boat in on the far side of the decaying pier, which jutted like a mangled tongue into the water. When the boat was a few yards from the shore, he cut the motor and let the momentum carry him onto the soft soil of the bank. After climbing out, he pulled the nose of the craft farther inland and then faced the towering form of the building, its shadow an insurmountable wall in the night. He drew the Sig, making sure the safety was off before beginning to walk. A few strides in, he noticed a crushed area in the long river grass to his left, and when he moved closer, he saw that a small boat lay there, its aluminum belly toward the sky and two oars on the ground beside it. Turning toward the foundry again, he continued on.

The grass rasped against his jeans, whispers of warning that he couldn’t heed. Fog hovered in patches of gossamer, with veins extending into the woods surrounding the structure. Liam swung the Sig to the left and right, knowing Peter and his accomplice could be anywhere. The foundry loomed closer, and as he neared the front façade, he veered left and traced the wall as closely as he could, his eyes searching the darkness of the woods on the other side. Soon he came to the large bushes growing from the base of the building’s foundation, their viny tendrils snaking into and through the cracked wall. With a blind effort, he pushed into them, letting his right shoulder rub the wall as he moved. After a minute, his outstretched hand touched what he knew must be there—a door.

The steel door was of regular height and width, built out of heavy iron and sitting on a sliding mechanism no doubt hampered by the countless seasons that had attempted to rust the entrance shut. He knew if he tried to move it, the same screech would issue from its track that he and Dani had heard on their first visit. Now the door stood open, a rectangle of utter dark unlike anything he’d encountered before. It waited to swallow him, abysmal, beckoning. Liam paused at the threshold, listening for the soft inhalation of breath but hearing nothing save the clicking of leaves against one another in the nearby trees. Re-gripping the pistol, he stooped low and walked forward, turning left as soon as he entered the building. Something hard struck his shoulder as he sidled into the massive space, and he grunted with the pain that shot down his arm. With one hand, he reached out and felt a flat surface and a cold steel tube that sat at the end of what could only be a worktable.

While he waited for his eyes to adjust to the thick darkness of the foundry, every regret he’d ever had came rushing back in a torrent of sorrow. His brother’s face played across his mind, followed by Suzie’s. Then it was Abford in the alley, the gun barrel pointing his way, its muzzle looking like a culvert it was so large. Then Kelly, her face obscured by the hair she’d just had cut, unaware that her and her son’s lives were seconds from over.

Liam forced his eyes shut, the swimming darkness becoming rolling fountains of color with the pressure. He would not fail again; he would not let her die here alone. When he opened his eyes, he could make out more features of the room he stood in. Innumerable support beams slanted toward the lofted ceiling, which had a long row of skylights. The room itself spanned the entire building, ending in the older portion of the original structure fifty yards to his left, the chipped concrete floor marred by remnants of the work that toiled here half a century ago. Several unnamed pieces of machinery stood a few paces apart near the opposite wall, their purpose shrouded in obscurity by both the lack of light and his ignorance of the jobs that had taken place here. A line of girders close to the sidewalls supported what appeared to be a catwalk with banks of stairs leading up and down at either end of the massive space. Everywhere on the floor were the shapes of I-beams, some only inches long, while others stretched fifty feet or more.

Liam glared into the dark and watched for movement. The soft tick of metal expanding or contracting was the only sound, mocking his vigilance with its shifting resonance. Heat lightning spiderwebbed across the sky directly over the foundry and bathed the interior in a strange red illumination that allowed him to scan his surroundings again. He seemed to be alone.

Liam moved forward, skirting the long worktable, which was coated in dust and grime. A few forgotten hand tools lay on the floor, and he stepped over and between them. The vast space around him stunk of old grease and burned steel, the ozone muted but still there. The place had the feel of a sepulcher, quiet with the waiting of secrets. As he neared a set of stairs leading to the catwalk above him, he stopped, his eardrums straining for a new sound somewhere ahead. It came again, and there was no mistaking it this time.

Crying.

Dani was somewhere ahead, her soft sobs barely audible through the doorway leading into the old part of the structure. She was still alive. A massive chunk of fear fell away and dissolved at the knowledge that he would not find her mangled body amongst the wreckage of this place. Moving even more carefully, he slid up against the old building’s rough brick and peered through the doorless opening.

A few candles burned inside on various surfaces, their light paltry but better than the darkness he stood in now. The next room was large but not near the size of the newer section. A conglomeration of broken chairs and piled canvas bags sat everywhere. A few long tables stood in the center of the space, their tops devoid of anything but dust.

Swinging into the room in a low stance, Liam scuttled to the nearest table and knelt beside it, covering his left and then his right with the gun. Nothing moved besides the slow waving of the candle flames. Dani whimpered and sniffed somewhere ahead. He ran fast across the room, leaping over a pile of I-beams and sliding to a stop near a small archway. With his back to the wall, he glanced around, watching the faint outline of the doorway for the darkening of a shadow.

A few cables as thick as his middle finger snaked in tangled lines near his feet and disappeared in a cloak of filth on the floor. In the corner nearest to him, he made out a large pile of canvas arranged like some sort of nest, its center depressed and filled with heaps of blankets. A nearby shelf held several stacks of canned goods along with what looked like large bottles of water. A smell of unwashed flesh and soiled laundry emanated from the corner. The sight disturbed him, mostly because the area looked lived in. Shuffling closer to the archway, he peeked inside the next room.

It was much smaller than the space he stood in now, an antechamber of sorts. It was square and lacked features, measuring fifteen feet across at the most. Candles littered the floor, their meager light illuminating the far wall, where Dani sat with her hands and feet bound together.

Hope surged in his chest, but he resisted the impulse to run to her. This was a trap, but what choice did he have? He leaned farther into the doorway, waiting for the sound of movement or a glimpse of clothing shifting against the backdrop of darkness. Other than Dani, the room looked to be empty. He stood and pivoted inside, the Sig straight out in front of him. His feet made a hollow sound on the floor as he entered, and Dani looked up, her face a mask of fear and matted with blood. When her eyes found him, a look of sheer relief flooded her features, and it nearly broke his heart.

“You found me,” she whispered as he hurried forward and hit his knees beside her. With one arm, he hugged her awkwardly, kissing her bloodied temple.

“Of course I did.” Liam stood just enough to pull out the straight razor, then crouched again, opening the blade. The bindings at her hands and feet were coils of oily rope. As delicately as he could, he began to slice the strands away from her wrists.

“Do you know where they are?”

Dani shook her head. “Just one attacked me in the parking lot. I think I cut his face, but he hit me with something and I blacked out.”

The rope popped free and fell away from her wrists, and he was about to start working on the one locking her ankles together when he heard movement behind him. Liam spun, thrusting the Sig out as he did. Shuffling steps came closer through the darkness, and a shape emerged.

“Stop right there,” Liam said, holding the bead steady on the person who stood in the doorway. The figure was small, shorter and much narrower than Peter. “Don’t move,” Liam said, his voice sounding dead in the enclosed space.

“I’m unarmed, Mr. Dempsey.”

The voice sent a runner of shock through him, partly because of the grating rasp it contained, but mostly because it was female.

“Who are you?” Liam asked, squinting.

The figure stepped closer, the dancing candlelight revealing two pale hands poking from the arms of a dirty hooded sweatshirt, the cowl pulled forward, shrouding her face from the glow.

“My name is June Harlow.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I escorted Dani across the river. I have to say, young lady, that you are quite the scrapper. You left me with a nasty cut that will forever hinder my good looks.” June’s white hands drew back the hood, and her face came into view.

Dani gasped.

June’s face was lined like that of a woman in her late forties, with crow’s-feet extending out from the corners of her eyes. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her nose was sharp and prominent, but below that her features became twisted and malformed, as if roughly hewn from a piece of wood. Her jaw sat at an angle, the right side drawn up in a rictus of bulging joints and sinew. Her cheek looked swollen and prodded from within, as if a bag of crushed glass sat inside her mouth. Her chin was wide and sloping, and several teeth stuck crookedly from her smiling lips. A long but shallow gash ran from her left temple down to her throat, and blood still seeped from it.

June cackled, and in the small room it was cold, cruel laughter that raised the hairs on the back of Liam’s neck. He responded by pointing the Sig at the woman’s deformed face.

“You’re going to back up, and then we’re all going to walk out of here, nice and easy, okay?”

June chuckled. “Mr. Dempsey, you’re just as arrogant as your brother was.”

The mention of Allen made him halt as he began to stand. He kept the muzzle pointed in her direction but lowered it a few inches. “You killed him, didn’t you? You and Peter Shevlin.”

June sobered, her eyes like two points of flame in the dark. “Oh yes, he died at Peter’s hand, as did his wife.” She sniffed, her warped mouth tightening. “His wife wasn’t supposed to die, but she got in the way. Payment for his sins, I would say.”

“Why?” Liam jerked his head around, surprised by Dani’s question. “Why would you do this?”

June stepped closer, stopping only when Liam raised the Sig again. “To undo the wrongs of the past, dearie. The sins of the ones across the river run deep, but now they’re being cleansed. One by one they fall by a righteous hand.”

“This isn’t righteous, it’s murder,” Liam said, finally standing.

“Murder?” June nearly shouted. “You know nothing of murder, Liam.” A smile crept onto her face. “But your brother knew it well.”

He licked his lips, watching June’s hands to make sure she didn’t go for a hidden weapon. “What are you talking about? My brother was a doctor, he saved lives.”

“He carved a fortune out of the flesh of the weak and helpless!” June roared. “He was the enabler of what’s happened.”

A semblance of calm spread across her distorted face, and she studied Liam in the flickering light. “You and I aren’t that different, Liam. You didn’t know the darkness that lived within Allen, but I always suspected my sister had murder in her heart.”

“Your sister?” he heard himself say, the answer already forming in his mind before June spoke.

“Karen Shevlin.”

Liam heard Dani’s surprised intake of breath and glanced at her, then returned his gaze to June. “You killed your own sister?”

“You would have too if you knew what I knew, what I saw. She deserved to die, right alongside that despicable husband of hers.”