The Wynne Witch

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The Wynne Witch Page 9

by H. P. Bayne


  Sully and Dez left Pip a sobbing mess on his sofa. Whether the message would prove enough to make him change his ways, Sully had no idea. He hoped so, but he wasn’t banking on it. More likely, someone with Pip’s level of addiction would seek solace there. If he survived the next hit, maybe he’d get help. Maybe he wouldn’t.

  Some problems Sully just couldn’t solve. He was no longer sure he could even solve the one they’d come here for.

  “The Forks, huh?” Dez followed it up by running a hand through his head of copper hair. “Bloody hell.”

  Sully nodded but said nothing. No need. “Bloody hell” was exactly the right phrase for it.

  His phone rang before they could discuss it further, and Forbes’s personal cellphone number showed on the screen. Sully answered and put the call onto speaker.

  “Hi, Forbes. I’m with Dez and you’re on speaker.” Said more to ensure Forbes didn’t make some smart-ass comment about Dez that would require a smarter-ass retort.

  “Good to know I’m in the presence of the Red-Headed Sasquatch,” Forbes said. Sully cast a glance at Dez and found him eyeing the phone with a surprised quirk of the lips. If Forbes hadn’t matured much, at least Dez had.

  Dez leaned toward the phone to reply. “Better a Sasquatch than a shrimp.”

  Then again …

  Sully worked to bring the call back on track before it settled into a full-on slanging match. “Had a chance to check for the file, Forbes?”

  “Yep, I did. This is all between you and me, you understand.”

  “We got it,” Dez said.

  Seemingly satisfied, Forbes took it from there. “Not much to the whole thing. Patrol took the call initially, alongside paramedics. Ms. Wynne was declared deceased at the scene, and Major Crimes was called in as per usual, just in case. A colleague of mine went out. She’s a solid investigator, and she didn’t see anything to raise her suspicions. The coroner also attended, and the body went to a forensic pathologist as a precaution. Not a full autopsy. Just an external to check for anything untoward. Nothing showed.

  “She had a few older, healing bruises, which the pathologist said he observes frequently on elderly bodies—falls and the like. But nothing to suggest foul play. If the old lady was murdered, as you say, no obvious signs were found. Cause of death was put down to accidental drowning. The thought was she fell into the pool and hit her head—an injury was located there, between her forehead and left temple. Enough to cause temporary unconsciousness. A few minutes out and under would have been enough.”

  Dez leaned toward the phone. “Was any thought given to the possibility the injury got there some other way?”

  “Someone hitting her, you mean? It was considered, but with no other injuries and no evidence at the scene to indicate foul play, it was simply put down to accident. If you find me something to suggest otherwise, I’ll take it to my colleague. She’ll probably be a bit pissy about it, but better start the process of reopening it ourselves than have something come out publicly and make her look like an idiot.”

  “We’ll pass along anything relevant we find,” Sully promised.

  “You’d better. What are you doing now?”

  Sully cast a glance toward Dez before answering. “Trying to find a possible witness. An associate of his told us he’s been trying to get into the Oldwater Crew. He gave us a place to go search for him.”

  “Where’s that exactly?”

  “Place in the Forks.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Forbes’s remark, spoken quickly and heightened with obvious surprise, had Sully answering carefully.

  “We’ll watch ourselves.”

  “You planning on going in there with a submachine gun and a rocket launcher? Because if you’re planning on confronting the OC in their stronghold in the bloody Forks, you’re going to need all the firepower you can get.”

  “Where the hell are we going to get a rocket launcher?” Dez said.

  “You know what I mean. You going in there, just the two of you, it’s suicide.”

  “We’ve done it before,” Sully said. “We’ll be fine. Listen, we’ve got to go. Thanks for your help. We’ll keep you in the loop.”

  He disconnected before Forbes could get in another word, then checked his phone as a text came through from Drea. He held the phone for Dez to see as a photo of Callum popped up on the screen. Light brown hair, brown eyes, lean, nice-looking if you discounted the crabby expression.

  Dez showed he’d seen enough when he moved back to their previous topic. “Never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I actually agree with Forbes. Two of us against the OC? Come on.”

  “We’re not going to confront them. We’re just going to see if we can find Callum. No way in hell I’m marching in there, demanding to see him.”

  “And how exactly are we supposed to avoid being seen?”

  Sully grinned. “Hey, I’m awesome at avoiding being seen. I survived in the Forks for two years, don’t forget. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re like a bull in a china shop. I’d go in there on my own if I could, but I know damn well you’ll never let me.”

  “Damn straight.” Dez rubbed enthusiastically at the back of his neck. “Okay, so how are we going to play this?”

  “Honestly? I’m planning on figuring it out when we get there.”

  9

  It wasn’t the answer Dez had wanted.

  His heart hammered harder inside his chest the closer they got to the crossing they’d used in the past, his mind turning over every horrible possibility as he drove. A couple of times he’d gone in there, he nearly hadn’t come out. Sully too. He’d have a hell of a time watching both their backs, and he knew it.

  He’d called Lachlan before setting out and was happy to find him already waiting at their usual riverbank crossing when they pulled up. This was a quiet part of town, east of an old industrial area that recent years had rendered largely disused. Wanting to ensure his SUV was all in one piece upon their return, Dez pulled off road and steered behind a grove of trees. He hoped they’d find the old boat in its hiding spot ahead.

  Or maybe he hoped they didn’t.

  Lachlan met them halfway down the slope, standing just out of view of the road in the tall grass.

  “You two are nuts,” he said. “That’s all I have to say about it.”

  “I’m glad that’s all you have to say,” Dez said. “Usually, I can’t shut you up.”

  Lachlan turned a glare up on him. “I was going to offer to join you, you big buffoon.”

  Sully stepped forward and spoke quickly. “Thanks, Lachlan, but you really don’t have to. To be honest, the more of us in there, the easier we’ll be spotted. I’ve already told Dez I’d rather go in on my own.”

  “Nope,” Lachlan said. “Not happening.”

  Dez grinned at his boss. “Now we’re on the same page. Did you bring it?”

  Lachlan fished inside his coat’s inner pocket and removed his .38 Special. “I wish now I’d invested in a pistol. This guy packs enough of a punch, but a magazine on a Glock or a SIG would hold more and be easier to reload.”

  Dez took the weapon, opened the cylinder and checked the rounds loaded inside, habit rather than lack of trust in Lachlan guiding his actions. “I’m really hoping I don’t have to use it at all. Just makes me feel better to have it.”

  Lachlan next handed over a small box of extra rounds. Dez slipped it into a pocket and tucked the gun into the back waistband of his jeans.

  “Thanks, boss.”

  “No problem.” Lachlan turned to Sully. “What about you? You going to do your freaky Exorcist thing?”

  “I haven’t ruled it out, but I’m like Dez. I’m hoping I don’t have to. Whenever I suck in spiritual energy like that, I risk going dark-side. I don’t want to risk it while Dez is around.”

  Something for which Dez was secretly grateful. As helpful as it could be having an amped-up Sully at his back, it also meant unlocking the door to a very dark part of Sully�
��s soul. The last time he’d used it, Dez had nearly died at his brother’s hands. For him, he could think of no worse way to go.

  “Sure you don’t want me to come?” Lachlan asked.

  Dez smiled. “Thanks, man, but no. Sully’s right. We’ll stand a better chance of going unnoticed if there are fewer of us.”

  Lachlan nodded. “I hear you. Just keep your phone on and call if you need help. I can round up a pile of ex-cops to charge in there and bust you out. Believe me, the way those guys talk about the action they used to see, I know they miss it. They’d be thrilled to go in and challenge some murderous gangbangers.”

  Dez briefly entertained the thought of asking Lachlan to bring in his buddies now and have them all head over en masse to approach the OC clubhouse. He dropped it quickly. Not only would it lessen their chances at stealth, there was a solid chance someone would be killed. Dez didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if a retired cop died trying to help him.

  Lachlan joined them as they hunted for the rowboat they’d once left on this side of the river. Sully had spent his two years in the Forks living at an abandoned mansion called Ravenwood Hall. It had come complete with no fewer than six ghosts, including a bad-tempered poltergeist Sully had nicknamed Noisy Ned. Ned had come in handy a few times, once Sully had figured out how to harness his abilities. He’d eventually released the spirit back into the shadows of Ravenwood, and it would be tempting to ask him to bring Ned along on this job. Tempting, but not without its own set of problems.

  The rowboat was where they’d left it, upside down and concealed in the trees, coated now in a layer of dirt and cobwebs. The woods surrounding it seemed to have been working on making the boat a part of them, and it took some heaving on Dez’s part to pry it free of the undergrowth. That done, he swept clean what he could, seeking out any damage to the hull.

  “Seems all right,” he said. “Just the same as when we left it.”

  “I thought maybe someone would have found it by now,” Sully said.

  Dez shrugged a shoulder. “Disused part of town. Who’d be over here?” He followed up the comment by tugging the boat to the river while Sully pushed. The sooner they got over there, the sooner they could get this trip over with.

  Lachlan eyed them as Sully climbed into the boat. “You sure you boys are okay doing this?”

  Dez had been about to push the boat in, but stopped to turn a grin on Lachlan. “You really are getting soft on us, aren’t you?”

  “Bugger off, smart-ass. Just don’t want to lose my entire staff to some damn fool mission. Even stupider since you’re not being paid.”

  “I did this for years without getting paid,” Sully said. “These clients are far nicer than some of the people I’ve helped.”

  Lachlan shrugged. “Like I said, your call. Don’t get yourselves killed, all right?”

  Dez pushed the boat the rest of the way into the water and climbed in afterward. He crawled around Sully to grab the oars. The currents in this south branch of the Kimotan weren’t nearly as strong as on the north side of the Forks, but it was a tiring row nonetheless. With Dez’s arm strength, he’d handle it better than Sully.

  As Dez rowed away from the shore, he watched Lachlan gradually shrinking on the shore.

  Lachlan’s voice, when he called out one last time, was quieter but nonetheless firm.

  “Check in with me or you’re fired!”

  Standing on the opposite shore, boat pulled up and concealed in the wild vegetation of the old Ravenwood Hall property, Dez shook out his arms.

  “That seemed so much harder than the last time.”

  Sully grinned. “You getting old, D?”

  Dez glared down at him. “Watch it. I’m still plenty tough enough to kick your ass.”

  Sully held up his hands in a show of surrender—a point he was smart enough not to argue. Then he glanced around. “I don’t see anything, but we should keep our eyes open.”

  “Why? We were generally safe here, right? I mean, no one wanted to tangle with the ghosts here, especially Ned.”

  “We don’t know what’s happened in the past couple of years. A lot might have changed. We need to be careful.”

  Dez frowned. “Now you tell me.”

  The riverfront portion of the property had likely once been visible from the mansion. No longer. Nature had taken over the Forks, and Ravenwood Hall was no exception. The grass and weeds displayed a mind of their own, growing everywhere a tree didn’t stand. And many saplings seemed to be following suit. Dez recalled there being a small opening through which he could see the house from the river. It was completely gone now, lost to the growth this side of the property. It was like Ravenwood was seeking to wall itself off from the rest of the world.

  Given its immediate surroundings and the people populating it, Dez couldn’t blame it.

  “Should we use the underground passage into the house?” Dez asked.

  “I was going to suggest we stay outside, but on second thought, the passage is probably a good idea. If anyone’s living in Ravenwood now, we don’t want them to see us before we know they’re there.”

  Dez had been hoping for an outside route himself, eager to stay out of the house at nearly all cost. But he was aware many people who called the Forks home now carried weapons, including firearms—weapons they were happy enough to use in this No Man’s Land. Like Sully had suggested, Dez didn’t want to find out someone was inside Ravenwood Hall because he or Sully took a bullet.

  The fact the hidden doorway to the secret passage was completely covered by vegetation was a promising start.

  “Could be if someone’s staying here, they just haven’t found the passage,” Dez suggested.

  Sully shook his head. “I’m not sure the door on the other side would have been closed the last time the tunnel was used. And anyone staying here probably would have explored the place looking for stuff they could salvage. That’s what I did when I first came here. They would have found the door—and probably the spare boat too. It was still there, buried in the weeds. I’m hoping that means we’re safe.”

  “I didn’t even see the boat,” Dez confessed.

  It took some work, but he managed to pry the door open. After ensuring their boat was safely out of sight, they stepped into the shadowed passage.

  Sully was right. The door leading from the passage into the cellar was wide open.

  With only their cellphone flashes to guide them, Dez mentally kicked himself for not bringing a proper flashlight, reminded as he was of the way this place could drain through batteries. Loss of light aside, the inability to communicate with Lachlan or Eva or anyone else across the river could be the difference between life and death.

  “You’d better power yours off,” Dez suggested. “You’ll attract any ghosts first, and knowing you, that means your cellphone will be dead before we even get out of this house.”

  Sully paused before extinguishing the light. “I got an email from Mildred’s lawyer, Hank. He sent me a copy of her will.”

  Dez turned fully and moved to peer over Sully’s shoulder. “Who’s all listed as beneficiaries?”

  Sully opened the attachment and used two fingers to enlarge the portion of the will in question. “Nothing new there. Everything she owned went to Neil Wynne and whomever he was married to at the time of Mildred’s death. In the event of Neil and Drea’s deaths, everything goes to Callum and Casey.”

  “No one else on there?”

  Sully shook his head. “Nada.” In the light from the cellphone screen, Sully turned his face to meet Dez’s eye. “Guess Callum is definitely in the frame for murder. If he wanted to get his hands on Mildred’s property, taking her out would be the first step.”

  “Only problem is he’d have to take out his dad and Drea as well.”

  Sully nodded and returned his eyes to the screen. “We don’t know anything about him, do we? Could be that’s exactly what he’s planning. Maybe that’s why this Witch of Rhibyn has been appearing to Ne
il.”

  Sully signalled an end to this conversation by powering off his cellphone. “Yours is on silent, right?”

  “Yep. You ready?”

  “Let’s listen for a sec before we leave the tunnel.”

  They listened for more than a sec, holding their breath and straining to pick up the sounds of any movement overhead.

  Dez gave it almost a full minute. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Me neither.”

  “How long before Ned realizes someone’s in his house?”

  “In my experience, not long. Probably once we hit the main floor.”

  That in mind, they paused again at the bottom of the basement stairs, then again most of the way up. Still nothing to be heard, which Dez hoped was a good sign they wouldn’t have human beings to contend with. The Forks was the one place in the world he felt more comfortable surrounded by ghosts than living people.

  As they approached the door to the main floor, Sully pressed past him. “Let me go first. If Ned senses it’s me, hopefully he’ll be less likely to spear us with a fireplace poker.”

  Sully had barely stepped through the door when he came ducking back inside. A second later, an object crashed against the doorframe and shattered.

  Sully picked a shard of glass off the shoulder of his hoodie. “Ned, stop, it’s me.” He didn’t say it loudly, and Dez guessed he didn’t have to. It wasn’t as if ghosts had ears, after all.

  A soft clatter sounded outside as if something heavy had been set down.

  “I think that’s a promising sound,” Sully said.

  Dez plucked a piece of vase out of Sully’s hair. “Let’s hope.”

  Sully stepped back into the hall. This time, nothing happened, so Dez followed.

  “Thanks, Ned,” Dez hissed into the air. To Sully, he said, “Makes it pretty likely no one else is here, then.”

 

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