Only the Lost

by Amanda M. Lee

  “The beach is a draw,” he continued. “There’s a golf range, the aquarium, the conservatory ... you know the drill. There are fireworks for the Fourth of July. This is a target-rich environment for an individual hoping to find some easy money. There’s a lot of drinking that happens out here during the summer, too. Things sometimes get out of hand.”

  “That’s sad.” Paris’s face reflected genuine regret. “I knew there were a lot of homeless people in the area, but for some reason I assumed they stuck close to the city.”

  “They do. The area around the casinos is especially thick. This area is popular in the summer. It is what it is.”

  “It’s just sad.” Paris blew out a sigh and then tilted her head. “What’s with his clothes?”

  The abrupt conversational shift threw me. “Nothing. They actually look pretty clean considering he was out here all night.”

  “Not that. They’re dated. I mean ... these are polyester.” She gestured toward his pants. “Like, really old polyester. And look at his shoes. I haven’t seen rubber soles on loafers like that since ... well ... ever. I think I might’ve seen them in books at some point. I bet my grandfather wore shoes kind of like this. My mother always makes fun of his shoes when she tells stories.”

  I straightened and leaned forward, taking an extra few minutes to actually study his ensemble. “They are dated.”

  Paris nodded. “Incredibly dated.”

  Cormack moved closer for a look. “You’re right,” he said. “These clothes are old. They’re not something you can pick up in stores these days. I don’t even think you could get them in second-hand shops. Maybe in vintage shops, but even then I would think they were just for looks.”

  “Why is that important?” Griffin asked.

  “Because yesterday we had five people return from the dead and they were all wearing dated clothes,” I volunteered.

  “They were all men,” Paris added. “He kind of looks like he fits in with that group.”

  Realization dawned on Griffin’s handsome features. “You think he’s part of the group that disappeared. Why would he be out here? I thought they all appeared in the gate room.”

  “They did.” Cormack was thoughtful. “We need to confirm that he’s one of the missing men. Izzy, take a photo of his face and text it to Oliver. He’s our best chance at getting answers without having to wait too long.”

  I nodded and lowered myself to the ground, my phone already out. I grimaced as I focused on the man’s face. Thankfully his eyes were closed, so I didn’t have to see him staring back at me. My hands were steady as I texted the photo to Oliver.

  “It shouldn’t take him long,” I offered. “He was focused on the gate data from yesterday when I left, but he’s a vampire. He can multi-task.”

  “I thought that meant he drank blood,” Griffin argued, smiling at his daughter and doing a little dance that seemed out of place.

  “What are you doing?” Paris asked, confused.

  I knew what he was doing. “They’re all in a competition to see who can make her smile first,” I explained. “I’m convinced that she’s not going to smile at all because she has her mother’s personality.”

  Griffin scowled at me. “I’ll have you know that my wife smiles all the time. She’s not always dour. You haven’t spent time with her when she’s been at her best.”

  “That’s true,” Cormack agreed. “Aisling doesn’t often withhold her smiles. She is a pouter, but she’s always open for a good time. As a child, she smiled at me every single day ... even when she was upset. Lily is going to be the same way. Of course, Aisling smiled at me first, and I think Lily is going to be the same way there, too.”

  Griffin rolled his eyes. “Aisling smiled at her father. Lily is going to smile at her father.” He increased his pace, sighing when the baby merely stared at him. “Of course, she really could be channeling her mother and enjoy torturing me.”

  Cormack snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tortures all of us. Her mother will teach her that particular lesson well.”

  “Yeah.” Griffin grinned at the baby. “Part of me can’t wait until she starts talking and expressing her opinion. The other part realizes that she’s going to be an unholy handful when that happens. What was Aisling’s first word?”

  Cormack pursed his lips, his expression telling me he was going back in time. “Well, let me see. Redmond’s first word was ‘no.’ Braden’s was ‘mama.’”

  My heart rolled at the information. Braden, out of all his siblings, struggled the most with the death of his mother. When she came back, only a shell of the person he remembered, he fought his siblings over her motivations ... and lost. He didn’t often talk about his mother now that she’d died a second time. He especially didn’t talk about the thing that came back in her form. When he was in a good mood, though, he would tell me stories about what she’d been like when they were children. He always lit up when relating those tales.

  “Cillian’s first word was ‘story,’” Cormack continued, his lips quirking. “He loved books even then. We read to them every night, and that was his favorite time of day. He would demand story after story. Aidan’s first word was ‘no.’ He was yelling at Aisling because she kept trying to take his favorite toy. And Aisling’s first word was ‘mine.’ She uttered it the same day she tried to take the truck from him.”

  Griffin’s face split into a wide grin. “I think that’s still her favorite word.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Lily’s first word is going to be ‘Daddy.’” He brushed his hand over the baby’s hair. Her eyes were getting heavy. “We’ve already agreed on that, haven’t we?”

  Slowly, the baby’s eyelids drifted shut.

  “I don’t think she agrees,” Cormack countered. “It’s going to be ‘Grampy.’” He made a face once the word escaped. “Wait ... I don’t like that. It makes me sound old.”

  Griffin chuckled. “Well, there’s no way Grandpa is going to be her first word. It’s too difficult.”

  “You don’t know. She’s gifted. It could be her first word.”

  “I’m guessing ‘mine’ is going to be her favorite word, too,” I offered, exhaling in relief when my phone dinged. “It’s Oliver. I read the text twice before sharing. “He recognizes him. He says his name is Ray Smith. He was one of the people who disappeared that day.”

  “Anything else?” Cormack asked.

  I shook my head. “No.” It was hard to read tone in a text, but I could practically see Oliver’s stricken expression in my mind. “I think he’s upset.”

  “Do you blame him?” Cormack pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “What are we going to do here?”

  Griffin remained focused on the body. “His neck is broken. That doesn’t necessarily mean he was murdered, but it doesn’t point to a natural death either. We need an autopsy.”

  “We could call in a reaper expert,” Cormack offered. “That might be the smartest way to handle this.”

  “It might,” Griffin agreed. “But you called me on my official cell phone. There’s a record — and I already mentioned to one of the guys in the bullpen that there was a body out here. I didn’t think about it at the time. I assumed we were dealing with something else. I can’t put that genie back in the bottle.”

  “So ... you’re handling this officially?” Cormack looked horrified at the thought. “Do you know what that means?”

  “It means the same thing it did yesterday.” Griffin’s tone was clipped. “You can’t hide the fact that those men are back. You might be able to delay the world finding out, but it’s only a matter of time until the truth leaks to the media. Those men deserve to go back to their families, even if the families they find aren’t the same. I’m not going to just sit back and let you guys hide them away.”

  Cormack balked. “Did I say that’s what was going to happen?”

  “No, but you’re not in charge. Those above you might try to make this go away, and yo
u know it. I’m not going to play that game with you. I can’t.”

  Cormack opened his mouth to protest and instead turned his attention to me. “What do you think?”

  I hated being put on the spot. “I don’t know what to think,” I admitted after a beat. “I agree with Griffin that hiding this isn’t an option. We might not have all the answers yet, but the people who lost these men ... well ... they deserve answers. This man didn’t make it all the way back. He’s still here and that can’t be erased.”

  Cormack grumbled. “I didn’t say I was going to hide things or try to erase them. I wish you would stop assuming things like that.”

  I held my hands up in capitulation. “I wasn’t insinuating anything.”

  “You were, but we’ll ignore that for now.” Cormack planted his hands on his hips. It was hard to look manly and in charge with a baby strapped to his chest — especially as she wore a lavender onesie — but he somehow managed to pull it off. “Call in your team, Griffin. You’re right. We need everyone working for answers. The only thing I ask is that you don’t volunteer what happened here yesterday just yet. Explaining that ... .”

  Griffin nodded without hesitation. “You don’t have to worry about that. We’re going to have another problem, though. You realize that as soon as word leaks that a man who disappeared sixty years ago has turned up dead — and he looks exactly as he did all those years ago — every conspiracy theorist in the world is going to descend on this island.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right.”

  “They won’t immediately jump to conclusions about a death gate,” Paris pointed out. “I mean ... that’s not even going to be in the top ten theories. You’re going to be dealing with aliens first. The public is hungry for stuff like that. They’ll believe that somehow Ray Smith was scooped up sixty years ago, transported to outer space for experiments, and then returned to Earth.”

  Cormack looked legitimately horrified at the prospect. “Oh, geez.”

  “That’s better for us,” I countered. “Having people erroneously believe aliens are to blame than correctly assume reapers are doing funky stuff on Belle Isle relating to life and death is a good thing.”

  “I guess.” Cormack stroked his cheek. “This is going to be a mess.”

  “It is,” Griffin agreed. “There’s no getting around that. I won’t hide this.”

  “Would you if it kept Aisling safe?”

  The question clearly grated the dedicated police detective. He planted his hands on his hips and glared. “Don’t do that. Aisling isn’t in danger here. I will do whatever it takes to keep my family safe. You know that. That’s not what we’re dealing with. I’m not going to institute a cover-up because it’s more convenient.”

  Cormack’s eyes momentarily flashed with annoyance and then he scuffed his shoe against the grass. “Fine. I guess that’s fair. It’s not as if you haven’t covered up things for us in the past.”

  “And I did that to protect Aisling,” Griffin confirmed. “I’ll always protect her. I don’t like that you’re insinuating otherwise ... while wearing my child as a vest.”

  “I know you’re loyal,” Cormack offered. “I just ... this is going to be a huge mess. I don’t even want to consider how easily this could fall apart for us.”

  “That’s not my concern.” Griffin straightened his shoulders. “This man died about twenty-four hours ago. He very well could’ve been murdered. That’s my concern. The rest is your problem.”

  “Fine.” Cormack threw his hands into the air, frustration wafting off him in waves. “I’ll handle the ramifications. That’s my job.”

  “Good for you.” Griffin clapped his shoulder and then smiled fondly at his sleeping baby. “Take care of my daughter, too. This will probably be a late day if it goes as I expect. I can’t volunteer that I know this guy disappeared sixty years ago. I still expect the information to be known by the end of the business day, tomorrow at the latest.”

  “I’ll keep my granddaughter safe. You don’t have to worry about that.” Something akin to mischief glinted in Cormack’s eyes. “I think she’s definitely going to smile at me first now. She’ll be angry at you for giving Grandpa a headache. I know my girl.”

  “Ugh. This family.” Griffin retrieved his phone. “I’m calling this in. Prepare yourselves. There are going to be questions.”

  I slid my eyes to Paris. “If you don’t want to deal with the police you can head back to the gate room. It’s okay.”

  “Oh, police officers don’t scare me.” Her lips curved. “I’ve dealt with worse things in life. Trust me.”

  I had no doubt that was true.

  Eight

  “We have another problem.”

  Paris was somber when she approached me an hour later. Uniformed police officers and representatives from the medical examiner’s office had arrived right on schedule and I’d spent the better part of the last hour answering questions with the sort of breathless nervous energy I hated. I figured it was better to put on a show than act calm and collected. That wasn’t what was expected, and I didn’t want to garner suspicion.

  “What other problem do we have?” I asked, glancing around at the endless activity. “I’m not sure we can handle another problem.”

  “Well, maybe it’s not another problem,” she conceded, “but it is an additional wrinkle for this problem.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  “Fourteen men went missing through that gate. Five came back, ending up in the exact spot from which they disappeared. One has now turned up about a mile from that location. That leaves eight people unaccounted for. What if they were returned too but somehow missed their mark?”

  “Oh, holy ... !” My eyes felt like saucers as I scanned the horizon. Most of the police officers had congregated in this small area. That didn’t mean they would stay here.

  “I think we should search the rest of the island,” she supplied. “And I think we should do it without an audience.”

  It made sense. “Yeah. I need to tell Cormack first so he knows where to find us if there’s trouble.”

  “I’ll wait for you by the golf cart.”

  PARIS WAS ON VIDEO CHAT AGAIN when I rejoined her.

  “Sami, there’s nothing I can do about your father,” Paris explained pragmatically. “I’m not his boss. In fact, I’m not your boss either. You’ve got to learn to suck it up.”

  “But he’s being an idiot,” Sami whined. “He took my computer. He says he doesn’t trust me not to talk to boys on it. He says that boys are sick and demented and that I’m not allowed to date until I’m thirty.”

  It took everything I had not to laugh. The teenager obviously couldn’t see me, but she wasn’t deaf. If she knew someone else was listening she would melt down even further ... which couldn’t possibly be a pretty sight.

  “Sami, he’s been saying that since you were five and you announced you were going to marry that guy from that movie.”

  Sami sniffled. “Robert Pattinson. He was Edward in Twilight. I’m still going to marry him.”

  I made a face and spoke before I thought better of it. “Isn’t Twilight the one where the vampires sparkle? All the girls were reading that when I was a teenager and I couldn’t stop laughing. I mean ... vampires don’t sparkle.”

  Sami jerked her head. “Who is that?”

  “That’s my boss,” Paris replied. “I told you I was working.”

  “Well, I don’t like her.” Sami turned prim, which only served to make her funnier. “We don’t know that vampires can’t sparkle. I bet people would say that vampires can’t be tan and walk in the sun either, but we both know that’s not true.”

  “Very good point.” Paris looked tired, but she didn’t lose her temper with her goddaughter. “You’ll have to deal with your father on your own while your mother is out of town. Either that or wait until she comes back and have a serious conversation with her.”

  Sami’s expression was withering. “My mother doesn
’t have serious and adult conversations. Besides, she’s going to side with him. She always sides with him. Most of the kids in my classroom can play divide-and-conquer games with their parents. I can’t do that because you can’t divide my parents.”

  “That’s very true.” Paris looked amused rather than sympathetic. “You’re lucky, Sami. A lot of kids don’t have parents who are as involved as yours. They love you.”

  “They’re stupid.” Sami’s expression was dark. “When Mom gets home she and Dad will disappear into the bedroom and say they’re reading. They won’t be reading. They’ll be doing … other stuff. She won’t have time to listen to me.”

  “That is not true.” Now Paris’s expression took on an edge. “They always have time for you.”

  “They always have time for each other,” Sami pouted.

  “They do always have time for each other. Believe it or not, you’ll be grateful for that in a few years.”

  “But not now. Now they’re embarrassing.”

  “I think they work hard to be that embarrassing ... and every time you melt down, it rewards them for their efforts. If you would stop reacting, they would stop doing it.”

  Sami’s eyebrows drew together. “Do you think that’s true?”

  “I do.”

  “But then ... that means they only do it to annoy me.”

  Paris laughed. “I believe that you’ve just figured out one of the biggest secrets of your parents’ marriage.”

  “Oh, well ... I’ll make them pay for this.” Sami was irate as she stood. In the background, a German shepherd hopped to its paws, as if readying for action. “They’ll be crying and begging by the time I’m done with them.”

  “I’m sure they will. Good luck.”

  I waited until Paris disconnected from the call. “Do you think you should’ve told her that?” I asked as I climbed behind the wheel of the golf cart. “Now she’ll have a leg up on them.”