by Adira August
He wondered why everything that sounded so simple was always so fucking difficult.
“There’s a dim possibility I’m being an ass.” He looked back out his window. He had to focus on what was ahead.
“Be there in five,” Cam told him, taking the exit. “Drink the water.” He handed Hunter a bottle of water he’d brought along that had been so far, ignored.
Hunt took it. “The toilets don’t work, you know.”
Cam shrugged. “It was an orchard. Find a tree.”
When Cam pulled up, they found the house dark. Merisi, Peat and one K9 officer waited by their vehicles.
“Now we do things my way,” Hunter told Cam. “You can wait here or go home. You don’t get anywhere near the house.”
Cam hated the haunted look on Hunter’s face. That he had to do whatever this was when he was already at his limit. “I’ll be right here.”
Hunter grabbed a long pry bar he’d stashed between his feet and got out of the Bronco.
Tuesday, October 3rd, 2017
It was just midnight when Hunter led Merisi and Peat through the front door. The K9 officer remained outside to cover the perimeter. When Hunt asked him of the one dog was enough, the man had just smiled.
Hunt had thoroughly prepped his small team at the curb. Everyone knew their role. Knew they must speak in normal tones and at normal volume. Hunter would handle all the props.
If something went wrong, only he would be to blame.
Hunt stopped at the foot of the stairs, Merisi and Peat paused at the entrance to the dining room.
“So we were the last ones upstairs? Gordi’s people didn’t go up?” He spoke loudly enough to be heard across the room. Or in an attic space, even if the words weren’t discernible.
“Nah, the cellar was enough.”
They passed through the dining room. Hunter picked up a chair, maneuvering carefully so no part banged against molding or wall as they entered.
Peat flipped on the light. “I’m telling you it’s gotta be a sewer line. He’s getting out through the railroad cut.”
Hunter stood to the side of the pantry door. Merisi opened it and flipped on the light.
If there was some kind of peephole, they’d lose the element of surprise. But Hunter thought there was a better chance the suspect depended on sound, considering visible alterations too easy to spot.
“They do anything in the pantry? Prints maybe?”
“No, they just handled the cellar. That was a big enough job.”
Hunter set the chair down silently in front of the shelves. Merisi backed away from the pantry, talking to Peat.
“Did you guys check the sewer line last time?”
“Wasn’t our jurisdiction,” said Peat. “We suggested it but …”
While the two continued talking, Hunter carefully mounted the chair; the upholstered seat muffled the sound of his shoes. He reached up and placed his palms on either side of the large plastic bucket. The top was only an inch from the ceiling. Hunter had no idea what might be in it, how heavy it might be.
He had to lift it from its perch without allowing any part of it to scrape against the ceiling or the shelf. If he was right, someone could be a few inches above him on the other side of the ceiling.
And already knew he was right.
Slowly, slowly, he lifted. It was very light. Apparently empty. He moved his hands while turning his upper body in the small space. Fully focused on the mere half-inch of space between the shelf and the bottom of the bucket, he willed it to remain exactly the same.
He brought it over the edge, barely breathing. The plastic bottom cleared the shelf. Not glancing up even for a split second, using very small movements of his feet, he rotated ninety degrees. Hunter lowered his hands, and handed the bucket through the door to Peat.
While Merisi talked to the air, Peat carried it quietly into the dining room and set it down silently on the braided oval rug.
Hunter breathed, stretched his tension-stiff fingers and looked up.
Access panel. The same size as the others.
But it was not painted over. A neat black line described the rectangle set flush with the white-painted ceiling board. This panel had a wood thumb turn, also painted white. It was a simple four-inch by one-inch handle with a bolt through the center. That bolt would terminate above in a longer piece that slid over the interior of the ceiling when the handle turned, keeping the drop-down panel closed.
It dropped down. And it could be opened from above or below.
Just outside the open pantry door, Merisi fixed on the panel like a hungry predator. Hunter held out a hand and allowed the young detective to steady him as he soundlessly dismounted the chair.
Still in the center of the room, Peat continued his faux conversation with Merisi.
“I guess we’re coming back tomorrow and digging up the yard?”
“That what we’re doing, Boss?”
Hunter turned off the pantry light, but left the door open.
“We’ll look at the schematics in the morning and figure out how to proceed. I’m beat”—he rattled the knob of the cellar door— “this all locked up? The back secure?”
The others answered in the affirmative.
“Let’s go.”
They trooped through the house and out the front door, shutting it firmly. Their steps were loud on the board porch. They talked to each other as they crossed the 100 feet of lawn to their cars. They slammed doors shut, started engines and drove away.
At the end of the block, they parked around the corner and went back, walking across lawns to muffle their steps. Hunter knew the sides of the house without gable vents afforded no view of the street. They crossed the lawn to the front porch.
They re-entered through the door Hunter had shut hard, but pushed back immediately. They made no noise. Peat remained in the dining room. Hunter and Merisi moved forward slowly and silently until they were on either side of the open pantry door.
Merisi stopped next to the chair. He was smaller, could get further through the panel. Hunter stood to the side with his Colt in one hand, his flashlight in the other.
It was a simple plan. They would wait until they heard something move above the pantry ceiling. At Hunter’s signal, Merisi would spring up on the chair and drop the panel. Hunt would turn the blinding power of the flashlight beam on the space while Merisi grabbed whatever portion of anatomy presented itself in the opening.
Unless they saw a gun. In which case, Hunter would use the Colt.
IT WAS COLD. The rank odor of sewage was stronger now, as if it seeped out of the pantry, permeating the air the men breathed.
It had been a half hour since they’d re-entered. Dead silent. Even the many neighborhood dogs had gone silent, as if waiting for something to happen. A thin wail of a siren very far off.
But Hunter knew the evil in this house was also waiting. Waiting to see if they came back. Waiting only feet away from him. His legs and back ached. His fingers were numb. A clear salty liquid trickled down from one nostril over his lip. A reaction to the rank, cold air. He thought of the hours he’d spent on his knees at the club while some Dom kept him waiting, trying to break him.
Whoever this asshole was, Hunt would a wait him out. If dawn broke, he’d wait him out.
The hollow sound of a jar lid being unscrewed. Faint. Merisi caught Hunt’s eyes in the dim light. Hunter shook his head slightly.
Not yet.
A dull thunk of glass on wood. Merisi stood. Stretched. Watched Hunter for a signal.
Hunter stared at the access panel, willing it to come to him.
Merisi’s eye’s flew to the panel.
A soft scraping of cloth against the ceiling. Overhead.
Hunter nodded.
In one fluid movement Merisi stepped up on the chair, reached for the handle and yanked the panel down. The glaring white beam from Hunt’s flash hit a stretched mouth and black holes of eyes as the thing slithered shrieking out of the hole, white limbs sw
arming, teeth slashing, dusty bits of itself floating like giant moths in the light beams.
Merisi bellowed something muffled by the body wrapped around him. Peat flicked on the lights. Hunter slung an arm around its throat and dragged it away, taking it to the floor, pressing his weight into the putrid bag of desiccated flesh and bone still screaming, long yellow fangs slashing at Hunter’s wrist and arm.
It was like choking out a corpse. Peat took the Colt and ripped Hunt’s cuffs from his shoulder rig. Merisi was vomiting onto the floor of the pantry.
Hunt and Peat got the handcuffs on, closed them past the ratchets and Hunter wondered even then, if it could slip out. The thing under him struggled and mewled
“Merisi!”
“Yeah.” He wiped his mouth on an arm.
“Upstairs. Get a blanket. Hurry.”
He kept it on the floor until Merisi came back dragging an old quilt. Together, they rolled the wraithlike being up, binding it. Calming it. They used their belts to bind the quilt to the body. The thing immediately tried to curl up on its side. They let it.
Hunt closed the closet door with his foot and fished out his cell. “I need an ambulance for a ninety-six. … No. No emergency.” He put the phone away.
“Merisi, drag it out to the front porch. Shut the door behind you.”
Hunter unlocked the back door and went into the backyard. His stomach heaved long after there was nothing left to expel.
And when he would have gone to his knees, strong arms circled his body and held him up, leading him away.
Cam.
They who have nothing to trouble them will be troubled at nothing.
Poor Richard's Almanac
WARM WATER RAINED DOWN on Hunter’s body. Cam used a generously sized sponge heavy with fragrant lather to wash every inch of Hunter’s skin. Hunter did nothing. Cam rolled him, and lifted and positioned him and Hunter thought how much he loved Cam’s strength. How much he loved surrendering to him. How much he loved his touch and control and care. How much he loved…
Cam had brought them to the A-frame, to his birch paneled room of a shower with the multiple shower heads. To a place of familiarity and comfort.
Hunter had fallen asleep on the birch floor under the warm mist. Cam turned off the water and set the dry sauna feature on low. He covered Hunt with big bath sheets from the warmer, folding one into a pillow. Lying down behind him, Cam pulled him close. They’d both wake up sore from sleeping on the hard surface, but he didn’t have the heart to wake Hunter again.
Hunt had ordered Merisi to leave everything exactly as it was and double lock both doors. They’d return in daylight with protective gear and the equipment to cut out an accessway. The health department would be present while they processed the upper level.
The K9 officer would be relieved by a uniform car at the end of his shift.
When the ambulance came, Hunter filled out the paperwork. Cam drove, following it to DGH where the suspect would be examined and processed. Hunter fell asleep in the car. After processing “J. Doe” suspect, gender unknown on a mental health hold, he’d gotten back in the Bronco and fallen asleep again.
HUNTER WOKE UP alone in the big bed. He was in the A-frame. Downstairs, Cam was talking to someone. A woman.
Hunt rubbed his face, disoriented. He vaguely recalled getting up to piss and having to push himself off the shower floor. He’d thought it was a dream because Cam was there.
The thing came out of the ceiling. A giant white spider with teeth.
Now he was awake.
Cam had left some clothes neatly draped over the armchair next to the bed. On the nightstand were anti-inflammatories and a bottle of sports drink.
Shaved and dressed, Hunt paused on the stairs and bent down to see who was in the house with Cam. He was at the kitchen counter with his laptop open. The voice coming from the speaker was Avia Rivers.’
Cam threw him a quick look and Hunt shook his head.
“He said he’d be in at noon for the briefing,” he heard Avia say.
Cam stood up. “I’ll let Hunter know. Talk to you later.” He closed lid.
Hunt followed his nose to the coffeepot and eyed the breakfast ring on the counter. The warm scent of cinnamon and roasted pecans was a siren song to his appetite.
Cam set a place for him at the counter while Hunter grabbed the butter from the fridge. Cam didn’t mention the call and Hunt didn’t ask. It was half-past nine and he didn’t need to know, yet.
He ate pecan ring sparingly until he saw how it settled, but drank all the water and juice Cam placed in front of him.
“I’m glad we’re here,” Hunter told him.
Cam nodded. “Can we talk about the moving in?”
“Can we talk first about how I’m affording half the payment on a multimillion dollar condo building?”
Cam blew out a breath, not at all sure how this was going to go.
“I said it was supposed to be a wedding present. Now, I guess it’s an engagement present. The way it’s set up, with the amount I paid upfront—which is the ‘present’ part—we shouldn’t pay anything. The income won’t be much at first, we have to build up a fund for repairs and pay the maintenance guy.”
“And the mortgage,” Hunter said, reaching for a banana from the fruit bowl.
“Right. And the utilities and property tax. A management company handles all that.”
“And who’s keeping them honest?”
“Nobody, yet,” Cam admitted. “My mother’s firm will do it gratis, but I thought you might want an independent company. Actually, at this point, I’d like an independent company.”
“You have someone in mind?” Hunter started cleaning up.
“Not really.”
“Merisi’s family are all accountants, he should be able to recommend someone.” Hunt washed the few dishes by hand.
“Maybe. But we all work together. Could get messy if we have to fire them.”
“Okay. Who else do we know who’s … Sherrilynne!”
Cam brightened. “She gave me a handful of business cards at closing. I didn’t even look them. They’re at the townhouse.”
“We’ll look through them tonight?”
Cam ducked and smiled and colored and looked up at Hunter. “You’re okay with this, now?”
Hunter kissed him briefly on his way to brush his teeth. “I’ll have my moments. You’ll handle them.”
MIKE MERISI NEVER never thought anything could make Heather Zee hesitant. He imagined she would charge a lion if it got in her way. But when he met her at the morgue, she glanced around at the other staff and ushered him into a small office devoid of personal effects.
“This is your office?”
“What? No. This is where we bring family members to explain how their relations died. Sign papers, all that.” She put a file on the desk. “I had a call about the DNA results.”
He waited for her to go on. She didn’t.
“Did they tell you anything?” Merisi took out his notebook.
“You won’t need that, you can take the file, it’s a copy.” Zee tapped the pages.
Merisi put the notebook away. He decided to wait her out. He had a feeling Hunter Dane would.
Zee turned the pages as she spoke, not looking at him. “The lab asked me a lot of questions about procedure. About how many samples were taken from how many individuals. How exactly the samples were stored and labeled.”
“Is that normal? Aren’t the protocols pretty standard?”
She nodded, flipping back to the front of the file. “They are. I’m very precise.” She took the top sheet and put it on the desk facedown. “I’m not answering those questions a second time.” Now she looked at him. “Do you understand?”
Then he got it. Zee wasn’t nervous; she was outraged. Someone had called her performance and professionalism into question. She was telling him preemptively to fuck off if he thought to do the same.
“I do.” You may now kiss the bitch, his smart-ass
mind voice said. It was the same voice responsible for multiple detentions before he’d learned to not speak every stray thought out loud.
She shoved the paper across the desk, closed the file and put it down near him.
Mersis turned the paper over. He read it twice. He looked up at Heather Zee.
It wasn’t the lab’s questions she was outraged about.
THEY RODE IN together as Cam’s car was at the townhouse. “You ready for messages?” Cam asked, opening the laptop.
“Avia shouldn’t have called you,” Hunt told him. “It can wait until I get to the office.”
“She called to find out how you were. And that’s all,” Cam said, bringing up the right screen. “I asked her and she didn’t tell me much. I think she took my discretion lecture too seriously.”
“That’s an oxymoron,” Hunter told him, getting on the highway. “So what did she say?”
“Just that Merisi was called to the morgue, the Maki DNA is back. He’ll be in for the meeting.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Then Natani stuck her head in.”
“She stuck—in where?”
“Into the frame of the picture. Practically shoved Rivers of out her chair. She said to tell you she called Nugent and the health department and what the hell’s wrong with you expecting Twee and Merisi to handle all that.” He laughed. “She went on but I quit listening.”
“A strategic auditory retreat,” Hunt confirmed. “So they’ll be joining us at the farmhouse?”
“They’re already there,” Can said offhandedly expecting the-
“What?”
“Deep breath, Hunter. Merisi let them in, gave them the run down. Twee showed up and relieved him so he could go to his meeting. The warrant’s good until midnight. Nugent trained Twee. He’s the best around and he invented discretion.”
Hunter knew that was true. But he should have been the one to make these decisions. He said as much to Cam.
“Maybe,” Cam said. “I never had anyone work for me but I’m about to. Doesn’t there come a time when you just trust your people to do their jobs? Didn’t they do exactly what you would have done?”
