Night Eyes (The Detective Temeke Crime Series Book 2) (25 page)

The helicopter landed in Glenwood at eleven forty-five on Tuesday night. No sign of the Shadow Wolf officers and no sign of an ambulance. But there was a coroner’s van in the parking lot and a hunter’s frame smeared with blood. It all confirmed the radio report they had just heard.

The gravel driveway of the Santo Nino church wasn’t exactly a helipad, but it was brightly lit and the closest thing in a town where the population was less than two hundred. Temeke climbed out on shaky feet, clutched his stomach and wanted to throw up. Not a park bench in sight.

Christopher Ramsey was dead, zipped up in a body bag they were now loading into the van. The report said the Shadow Wolf officers knew he had a gun in his jacket, they tried to detain and arrest him and decided as a last resort to open fire. He would have shot them, they said. He posed a serious threat to Adam. And to themselves.

Temeke wound a scarf tightly around his neck as he made his way to the church steps, three simple concrete slabs leading to nothing more than a portable cabin. He struck a match and drew smoke and fresh air into his lungs. He wasn’t fond of heights and flying around in a thunderstorm only added to the thrill.

Malin wasn’t happy either. You could tell by the look on her face. The coldness was gone and a white rage shone in her eyes. And then she tried to squint it away by looking up at the sky like she could see a face up there. There was something on her mind no matter how hard she tried to pretend otherwise. “Where is everyone?”

“Buggered if I know.” Temeke flicked some ash on his shoe. “Too damn quiet out here.”

“How long have you known?” she said, one foot on the step he was sitting on.

“Mrs. Oliver never asked the kidnapper if Adam was still alive. If you were his mother, you’d be begging with all you’d got. Begging to hold the son you’ve given birth to… for his body… something to bury. They all beg. And where was the bloody dog bowl, the dog bed? All gone, like she’d closed the chapter on something. Do you know what I hate?” Temeke watched the coroner’s van as it pulled out into the road. “Not knowing Christopher Ramsey. I might have actually liked him.”

“He killed a man and kidnapped a child.”

“He killed a serial killer. One the police couldn’t track. Did us a favor. Did himself one too.”

“You know what I mean,” she said, rocking back and forth slightly.

“I wish I could have talked to the Mayor. But she was there… struggling with her ghosts.”

“What ghosts?”

“Her past, her parents. What they’d done.”

“It’s not their fault she got pregnant.”

“It was their fault she married the wrong man.”

“Chris Ramsey was threatening her. Doesn’t sound like love. Sounds like a lost cause. An old fling gone bad.”

“Who told you that?”

“
I’m
telling you.”

“Those aren’t your words. Too insightful. Deep.”

“Oh, you think I don’t go deep?”

“Not that deep.”

“You can be such a pig sometimes.”

“If I was anything less, you wouldn’t recognize me.”

“I won’t be intimidated.”

“Not by me, that’s for sure.”

“What’s up with you?”

“All this talk of intimidation makes me wonder if your confidence has taken a beating. You talking to a psychic?”

“Easy Tonto,” she said, smile lurking behind those eyes. “A man of your age could end up in hospital. That could be lonely without family.”

“You’d come and visit me.”

She started laughing then. Turned a full circle, swinging one of her gloves with one hand.

“Chris Ramsey knew he was dying,” Temeke said. “Wanted to see his son. It was his last chance.”

“And Raine?”

“She was expecting Ramsey to call. So she could take Adam to the park, let him meet his dad. Then she got cold feet. Knew she was being followed and didn’t want Ramsey hurt. But he came anyway because he had an old score to settle. It must have been a shock for her to come home and find Bill on the floor and Adam gone. That wasn’t part of the plan.” Temeke took another drag of his cigarette and felt that unmistakable sense of relief. “When I showed her the burnt letter we found in the grate, she knew what it was. I could see it in her eyes. Bill Oliver never knew. But I wonder if he ever suspected.”

“You’re a genius, sir.”

“And you’ve got a generous heart, Marl. Got a good head. With any luck you’ll have Raine packed in a U-Haul to San Diego before the mayor’s discharged from hospital. Course it’ll be in the bloody papers.
Mayor on fundraising trail to get wife back
.”

“It’s better this way, sir. Better Raine gets out before those bruises start migrating to her face. You know what they say? Hate can easily turn to love.”

“Then hate’s a good starting point.”

Temeke felt a presence behind him and saw a swarthy man in a black hat, hand clutching a Browning rifle sling embroidered with a southwestern weave. Temeke hadn’t heard him coming, hadn’t heard his footsteps over the gravel. It was Running Hawk.

Temeke introduced Malin, noticed a smile that played on Running Hawk’s lips when he took her hand.

“Where’s Adam,” he asked.

“In the trees.” Running Hawk jutted his chin towards a porta-potty which appeared to be surrounded with sandbags.

“What’s he doing in the bloody trees?”

“Reading a book.”

Temeke was astounded. The poor kid had been left all on his own and given a book to read.

“Wanted to be alone,” Running Hawk said in that slow drawl of his.

Temeke had no idea what Running Hawk was blabbering on about, but it sounded deeply spiritual. He flicked the last of his cigarette in a nearby puddle and stood to shake his hand.

“Better take this. Fell out of the deceased’s jacket pocket.” Running Hawk handed Temeke the photograph of a young woman in a swimsuit. “Boy was scared of us. We could have found him sooner if they hadn’t kept running. Thought we were rogue rangers. We carried his pa down the mountain. Most of the money was there. Just finished counting it in the church. Had a knife wound in his thigh. Sceptic by the look of it. He was alive most of the way.”

“And Adam?”

“He held his pa’s hand. Watched him die. He’s a man now.”

Temeke didn’t doubt it. He had a vision of a boy clutching a dead man’s hand and what that must have felt like. “So Ramsey didn’t hurt the boy?”

Running Hawk just shook his head. “Boy’s good. Cried when they took his pa away. Told me he taught him to shoot. Hunt rabbit. Told me he could survive in the wilderness on his own if he had to. He’s waiting for you.”

It was dark in the woods, the type of dark where you couldn’t see a bear in the shadows and the scenery all looked the same. A boy could get disoriented out here. And so could a detective.

Temeke went alone into the trees behind the church, listening to the hiss of a cold biting breeze. It was Murphy that bounded towards him, tail wagging, foam dripping off black lips. He led the way, eyes expectant and urging Temeke onward with a snort.

A thick layer of gray clouds gathered overhead and Temeke’s head was beginning to throb with all that fresh air. He walked on with Murphy at his side, stopping every now and then to listen. A gash of lightening lit up the sky behind the mountains and he was aware of the sweet scent of rain. Crossing a small stream, the surface of the water was suddenly dimpled with the first drops and then a deluge that rattled along the surface of the leaves.

Snapping twigs alerted him to movement in a thicket. It was a large elk walking silently between the trees, nostrils sniffing the wind, ears twitching on the side of its head. A few seconds and the great bull detected Temeke’s scent and flew through the underbrush, hurdling over a log with the grace of a horse. Murphy took chase as far as the log and then thought better of it. He stood in a clearing, ears pricked and panting. He was tracking a scent with that twitching nose of his.

Temeke hunched along a narrow path to the clearing some twenty feet to his left. It was the flashlight he saw, diffracting through a gap in the trees. It was a good cover from the rain and he allowed himself to listen to the constant patter. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could hear a boy sobbing.

Adam was wrapped in a large black ski jacket, wooly hat drawn over his ears. A few strands of brown hair fluttered over his collar, cheeks red and glistening.

“You OK, son?” Temeke showed Adam his badge.

“I’m OK.” Adam wiped his eyes on his wrist, breaths hitching as he spoke. He hugged a book and the flashlight to his chest. “Have they taken him away?”

“Yes.” Temeke heard a wail of sirens and sat down beside Adam on the log. He handed him the photograph. “Might want to ask your mom about that.”

Adam gave the photo a cursory glance and slipped it inside the book. He didn’t say anything. Just stared at the ground.

“I don’t know if the police told you,” Temeke said, “but your dad’s much better now. Sitting up in hospital eating ice cream. He asked us to come and find you. So here we are.”

“Thank you.”

Temeke heard the relief in Adam’s voice, saw him flinch and blink at a sudden downpour of sleet.

“Tell me what happened.” Temeke shouldered the backpack and hooked his arm through Adam’s. “So I can understand.”

“They shouted at him… he was going to put his hands up… but they shot him. All of them.”

“He could have shot them, son. He had a gun.”

“No, Ramsey gave me the gun. It’s in the backpack.”

Temeke felt that unmistakable churning in his stomach, felt the back of his throat go dry. It would have been dark on that ridge, too dark to take any risks. And the very men Adam was afraid of were the very men who could have saved him. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

“I called my mom. She said I had to wait for you.” Adam just stared ahead and after a minute or two, he said, “His heart was cracked down the middle. He said it hurt sometimes… I didn’t understand what he meant. But I do now.”

The book felt good in his hands. A wedge of pages all tart from wood smoke and still carrying a fresh memory. Wrapped in Ramsey’s coat, Adam could still feel those big arms around him, still hear those throaty mutterings. It was like Ramsey had just walked into the next room. Except Adam had seen him fall asleep, sensed he was gone.

The detective handed him a steaming cup of hot chocolate. It didn’t have a marshmallow bobbing on the surface, didn’t taste of chocolate much either. 

The walls were gray and so was the trim around the door. It made Adam feel like he was in a dream, made him feel in the halfway place between happy and sad. Sometimes his eyes just timed out and they just stared at a sheet of glass. Even the dog was somewhere else.

“Now, I can leave you alone if you want, or I can sit here quietly,” the detective said.

“I’ll be OK on my own, thank you.”

That way he would hear Ramsey’s voice and it would make it all better. Like he was sitting right there beside him telling the same old stories he always did.

“One more thing,” the detective said, handing him a flip phone with a blue screen. “Officer Running Hawk found it. It think you’ll find it still works.”

“Thank you.” Adam felt a surge of pride. Of course it still worked. It was brand new, wasn’t it?

“Mr. Ramsey was a bit off his chump, son. Most of his brain was missing and what was left of it rattled around in that head. So I doubt it will make much sense.”

“It’ll make sense.”

“I’m glad you said that. Cause I almost called in an interpreter.”

Adam half smiled, even as his eyes watered. “He couldn’t stand being away from us. Said it was unnatural. Like putting a pig in a sty and taking away the mud. Anyway, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.” The detective stood up and smiled. He left after that.

When Adam thought of Ramsey he wasn’t a monster. He was a man who taught him to hunt, a man who made him laugh. It had been an adventure.

He opened the book.

I don’t remember when it all began, but I do know this. You were always part of it. A bright spark in a dark world. You were the last thought in my head when I went to sleep and the first when I woke up.

Now don’t get blubbery, cause I need to tell you how it all started.

The weather was unusually cold that night and there was a ring around the moon. I walked to the beach with six other men, hearing only the sound of my footsteps. Your father was standing there, arms by his sides. I couldn’t be sure, but he was laughing. Raised his gun in the air, held it there for the count of three. 

I had time. A second or two. Waded into the shallows until my feet were well covered. Until I could feel how cold it was. I could almost touch that trident, smell it against my collar.

Unless my heart missed a beat. There was always that. Tricky things hearts. They can switch off without you knowing.

I heard a click and a laugh. Nothing new. It’s what he always did to see if we’d take off. But we stayed right there until we heard the crack, the echo, and then shouts as if the beach was alive with voices. I could hear the men behind me, feel hot sticky breath against my neck.

I was first when we plunged into the breakers. First when we got to the red buoy. Then it happened. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Swallowed a wash of salty water.

There was a bright light streaking to one side, a tunnel tracking down into the earth. I thought I was seeing things.

Adam remembered a time when he was afraid of the tube slide in the playground at school. How he heard the pounding of his footfalls on the platform and the occasional drip of water from the trees above. And then he was sliding, tumbling, arms bracing as he broke out into the sunlight. There was snow on the ground, spread out like a bright shimmering mirror. He would have slid all the way to the parking lot if his mom hadn’t stopped him.

I woke up in hospital. There was no going back. No trident. There’s a hole in my heart now where the pain comes in. And when it does, I see dead leaves all spiny and withered. I’m reminded of the things I left behind. You. Her. Family.

Adam could see Ramsey in his mind’s eye, hair matted across his face, teeth clenched in a moue of pain. One hand clasping his chest, blood oozing between his fingers.   

You probably want to ask me what I loved the most. Your mom. She wouldn’t approve of me now. It wouldn’t have been fair to expect her to suffer my appalling relapses. That’s memory to you. My tattered clothes, a body that could have done with a shower. If she had seen me in the street, she would have made appropriate noises of sympathy, dropped a nickel in my hat and passed me by. 

Didn’t stop me loving her though.

Adam took his mind back to that night in the tent. The words were right there. In the book. How Ramsey brushed her hair, how it turned red in the sun. Adam remembered how the lantern swung in the wind and he could still smell the camp fire. He was afraid then. But not now.

That Spitfire’s just the small piece. Maybe you’ll have a good laugh at some of the things we did. Maybe you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. And maybe you’ll marry Runa and tell your kids about me. I’d like that.”

Adam made the sound with his lips, strange at first. It was the second time he’d said the word and it would be the last.

“Dad.”

You probably want to ask me what I hated the most. Silence. You have to fill it with something. A good laugh, a good story. Like the time when I met your mom’s dad and how he used to say, ‘it must be March when the mad hares breed.’ He was probably hoping for a personal tragedy, hoping I’d disappear down a manhole so he could wake up from that particular nightmare and chalk it down to experience. He even told me I was a crook. But crooks aren’t that stupid.

I went away for a while. But don’t think for one moment, I forgot. Cause I stalked the crap out of you, followed you to New Mexico. I saw you in the park. Yes, that was me. Watched you grow up.   

I know your dad’s strict. I know you sometimes don’t get along. But you’re a great kid. He saw to that.

I had a strict dad once. Used to hide behind the tub panel when I’d done something wrong. Strange, because it was a screamingly obvious hiding place, I’m surprised he missed it.

I flushed four small dinosaurs down the toilet once. Velociraptors I think they were. They did a number on the honey dipper, sewage everywhere. Amazing those raptors got past the U-bend. Don’t try a T-Rex. Too big.

Adam chuckled. He felt very lucky. Because some kids only have one dad. He had two. Three actually, if you counted the big guy in the sky.

You probably want to ask me what I regret most. I should have fought for you. Because in two short weeks we went everywhere together. Did things other people never get to do. I learned a few things too. Doesn’t matter where we come from. It’s the people we meet, the trials we face.

I met you. That makes me a man.

Now don’t go tearing up when I tell you you’ll see me in the thunder and the lightning. Means I’m up there somewhere having a party. Probably drinking a few beers and hurling them against a tree. Might not have my trident, but I have a son.

And don’t get too excited either because I’m not about to go down on my knees. But you’re right. Truth is the only father. I can see him clear as I can see you. Got my ticket. So I’ll wait for you at the entrance… save you a seat.

But while you’re still there, it’s very important you follow instructions. Paper’s for sissies. So just use grass.

Adam felt the sweat popping on his forehead and the shudder in his legs, and he felt the soft brush of fur against his arm. He heard a laugh that never broke for breath and somewhere in the pit of his mind, he realized it was his.