by Amy Cross
While I wait for someone at Gordonville to answer the goddamn phone, I type out a message to Harry, apologizing for whatever I might have said and done last night. Once the message is sent, I wait for a reply, but I guess maybe she's too mad at me. I don't blame her for that. I was completely -
“Gordonville Psychiatric Hospital,” a voice says suddenly on the other end of the line. “You've reached B-Ward. Gretchen Lucas speaking. How can I help you?”
“My name is James Kopperud,” I reply, “and I'm calling from Deal County Sheriff's Department to check on the status of one of your patients. I need to know whether Liam Cane is still in your care.”
“I don't think there's anyone by that name on this ward.”
“Maybe he's on a different ward, then. He might've been moved.”
“One moment, I'll check.”
Suddenly the door opens, and Katie leans through.
“I'm doing a coffee and sandwich run,” she says. “Do you want anything?”
“Coffee,” I reply. “Lots of it. Double, triple, whatever's the strongest they have. But not one of this little ones that comes in a thimble. I need a lot of whatever you get.”
“Okay, boss,” she says with a faint smile. “Back soon.”
“Mr. Kopperud?” the voice on the other end of the line continues, as Katie leaves. “I've just checked our system and I can confirm that Liam Cane was discharged from our care on January 11th this year. Doctor Ericsson signed the papers himself.”
“Where was he moved to?” I ask.
“He wasn't moved to anywhere,” she continues. “He was deemed to be no risk to the community, and he was released.”
“Why wasn't I told?” I stammer, feeling a rush of panic in my chest. “When he was sent to Gordonville, we were assured that any release program would be discussed with this office in advance.”
“Sir, privacy laws in this state prohibit -”
“I need you to send me everything you have about Liam Cane,” I continue, interrupting her. “I need the most recent photo you have, I need his physical characteristics, and I need to speak to someone with recent experience of his treatment. I need to know what we're dealing with here.”
“Sir -”
“This is a murder investigation,” I tell her, “and I have reason to believe that Liam Cane might be in the Deal area. I don't care what privacy laws you might have in place, okay? You need to find someone who treated him, and get them to call me. I'll send you my email address, and I want every document in your possession, is that understood?”
***
“Come on, Hinch, pick up,” I mutter as I head through to my front room and grab the case from next to the sofa. I've come home for a few minutes to collect a few items, since I figure tonight is going to be a very long night out searching for Liam. Of course, it'd help if Hinch actually answered his goddamn phone.
Finally I'm put through to his voicemail.
“It's me,” I tell him, unable to hide a sense of irritation. “I don't know where you are right now, but we've got a serious problem and this is not the time to go AWOL. Liam Cane is not a patient at Gordonville anymore, so I'm pretty goddamn sure that he must be the one who was living rough at Dodderidge Farm. I'm waiting for his files to be sent over, but we have to consider him armed and dangerous. Call me as soon as you get this message.”
Once I'm done, I toss my phone onto the sofa while I start going through the briefcase. I can feel another twinge of pain in my gut already, but I figure I'll just have to pack as many pills as possible and hope for the best. My mind is racing and I can barely even think straight as I head over to the desk and start searching for some older pain-killers I'm sure I remember putting here. My hands are trembling and there's a part of me that desperately wants a whiskey, but I know I can't afford to make that mistake again. In fact, I'm never going to drink another drop.
Suddenly my phone starts ringing, and I see that someone from the office is trying to get in touch.
“Hinch?” I say as soon as I answer. “Where have you been?”
“It's Lewis, Sir,” says the voice on the other end of the line. “Everyone else has headed out to start the search, but I'm not sure what to do here. Katie still isn't back from the coffee run. Should I just lock the station up?”
“What the hell's taking her so long?” I ask. “Fine. Sure. Lock it up. We need every hand we can get out there. Is there any sign of Hinch yet?”
“I haven't seen him since yesterday.”
Taking a deep breath, I feel for a moment as if this whole situation is rapidly spiraling out of control.
“I'm waiting for information from Gordonville,” I say finally, trying to think straight. “As soon as that comes through, I'll forward whatever's important to the search teams. The priority has to be locating and apprehending Liam Cane, because right now we have a potentially dangerous individual on the loose somewhere in the area, and there's a strong possibility that he's already killed once.”
“We'll find him.”
“We have to,” I reply, as I hear a new message arriving on my phone. “I'll call you back.”
Checking the message, I find that it's the files I've been waiting for. Someone at Gordonville has finally sent through some information about Liam Cane, so I set the larger files to download before opening the main message. Scanning through the report that was prepared at the time of Liam's release, I find that it's filled with useless babble about how the kid has made remarkable progress during his time at the hospital, and how he's no longer considered a threat to anyone. The report is pretty glowing, and I can only assume that Liam must have learned how to manipulate the doctors into thinking that he posed no danger. There isn't even any mention of a follow-up schedule. It's as if they just pushed him out the door and never thought to check on him.
“Idiots,” I mutter. “Goddamn fools.”
Once the files have all downloaded to my phone, I tap to open the most recent photo of Liam, and then I turn and grab a bottle of pills. My hands are trembling so much, I need to take something so that I can at least function properly. After swallowing a couple of the stronger pills, I chase them down with water and then turn back to look at my phone.
As soon as I see the photo of Liam Cane, I freeze.
I check the file name, and the list of attachments, convinced that there has to be some kind of mistake, but everything seems to be in order.
This can't be right.
My mind is racing as I look at the photo again. It shows a man standing in a hospital room, wearing a gown, smiling nervously at the camera. The picture quality isn't great, but it's good enough for me to see his features clearly, and slowly a sense of fear starts crawling up into my chest.
“This isn't possible,” I whisper.
But it's not only possible.
It's real.
The photo is clearly labeled, and there's no doubt whatsoever that the man in the gown is Liam Cane, shortly before his release. Equally, there's no doubt that I've known that same man by a different name ever since he first arrived six months ago to work at Deal Country Sheriff's Department.
Hinch.
Thomas 'Hinch' Hinchcliffe.
He was Liam Cane all along.
For a few seconds, I can only stare in horror at the photo as I try to make sense of all the conflicting information. It's not possible that Liam Cane could have changed his name and joined the department, calling himself Hinch, but at the same time I can't deny the evidence that's right in front of my eyes. I tell myself that there has to be some kind of mistake, that I could never be fooled like this, but the man in the photograph is undeniably the same man who has been working alongside me for several months now.
I have to find him.
Grabbing my jacket, I hurry to the door while trying to call Hinch again. This time I'm put straight through to voicemail, which means he must have switched his phone off, so I try calling the office, only to find that evidently Lewis locked up and left.
&n
bsp; Fumbling with trembling hands, I bring up Lewis's number as I pull the door open.
Startled, I find somebody standing right outside my door, framed against the dark street.
Somebody familiar.
“Ramsey?” I stammer, startled to see her wearing filthy, torn clothes.
“Dad?” She stares at me for a moment, with tears in her eyes, as if she doesn't quite believe that it's really me. And then, with no warning, she puts her arms around me and holds me tight. “Dad, please,” she sobs. “You have to help me!”
Part Seven
Glitter in Their Eyes
Forty-Seven
Sheriff James Kopperud
Three days earlier
“Can you toss me that file?”
Finally, Hinch turns to me. That was the third time I've asked him to let me have the file, but for a moment he seemed to be lost in a world of his own. I've noticed that about him a few times since he started working here. He seems to go inward and lose all awareness of the world, as if he's briefly absorbed by some inner voice. I guess he's just a thoughtful guy. Some people are like that.
“It's the one right there,” I continue, seeing that he's still not quite fully back from his dazed moment. I point at the file I need, although I'm starting to think it would've been quicker to go get it myself. “I just need to check something.”
He stares at me for a moment, and then suddenly he smiles as he hands me the file. There. Whatever was wrong, he seems to have snapped out of it pretty fast. He can be a strange guy sometimes.
“Thanks,” I mutter, opening the file and starting to look through the papers. “Something about this wasn't sitting right with me last night. It's probably nothing, but I always like to be thorough. You get where I'm coming from, right?”
“Totally,” he replies. “You've gotta be thorough.”
“It's always in the details,” I add, flipping to another page. “You've got to get right down and dirty in the details of a case. Oh, and you have to set out a timeline, too, otherwise everything can get confusing.”
“Sure. Understood.”
“And you have to stay focused,” I mutter under my breath, feeling another faint twist of pain in my gut. “Don't let distractions get in the way.”
If I took my own advice once in a while, this department would run a lot more smoothly.
“I wouldn't mind some rain,” Hinch says after a moment. “After this dry spell, we could really use some.”
Before I can reply, I spot an interesting detail on an old map of Dodderidge Farm. It's probably nothing, but apparently part of the boundary was changed many years ago. It seems there was a dispute between old Bernard Cane and one of his neighbors, and there's some paperwork about a scuffle that had to be broken up. Apparently Buddy got involved, and he was with his old partner, a woman named Molly Abernathy. Molly's story is well-known around the department, on account of her having disappeared not long after she arrived in town. Even now, no-one knows what really happened to her.
But her name sure seems to keep popping up in relation to old cases.
As Katie goes over to Hinch's desk and takes his lunch order, I turn to my computer and start bringing up the files relating to Molly's disappearance. Something about that case has always sat wrong with me, and deep down I've often wondered whether Buddy has really told the whole story. He claims she simply wandered off into the forest, investigating a possible disturbance, and was never seen again, but now – as I read through the files again – I can't help feeling that he shut the investigation down pretty quickly. His preferred theory was that she was killed and eaten by wolves, but something about that explanation seems wrong to me.
Scrolling down the page, I find a photo of Molly. She's grinning from ear to ear, posing in front of a flag in the far corner of the office. She looks happy and cheerful, but I know from the date-stamp on the picture that she disappeared just a few hours later.
I bring up a list of other cases Buddy was working on at the time. All I find are a few reports of drunk and disorderly arrests in town, and a family called the Stewarts who were reported missing. A search was made for their car, but nothing was ever found, and the case was handed off to police in their home state. From what I can tell, nobody from this station bothered much with the hunt for them. Again, Buddy seems to have closed the case, at least from our end, very quickly. I need to look into this some more, just for the sake of my own curiosity, but first I need to hand off the Millard's Point business to someone else.
I glance around and see that everyone's busy, except for Hinch. He looks to be lost in thought again, staring into space. I can't help smiling as I watch him for a moment. Sometimes, I honestly wonder what goes through that guy's mind. Maybe a lot. Maybe not a lot at all.
“Do you mind going out to Millard's Point for me?” I ask finally.
I wait, but he doesn't seem to have heard me.
“Twice in one day?” I continue. “Hinch? Are you getting enough sleep?”
Again, I wait, but again he seems completely zoned out. In fact, his eyes look almost glassy.
“Hinch?” I say finally, raising my voice a little before snapping my fingers. “Seriously, is anybody home in there?”
Suddenly he turns to me.
“Millard's Point,” I continue, holding the relevant paperwork out toward him. “Would you mind? Just run up there for me. Sorry, I was going to do it myself, but you know what it's like some mornings. I've got a ton of calls to make.”
He stares at the paper, seemingly a little confused, as I hand it to him.
“It's pretty self-explanatory,” I continue. “Don't waste too much time on it.”
“Corned beef or chicken today?” Katie says suddenly as she reaches my desk.
“I'll have the chicken,” I tell her. “But tell them to go easy on the mayo, okay?”
“Darn,” she mutters, making a note. “I was hoping that one day everyone'd order the same thing. I don't know why, really, I just thought it'd be neat.”
“I can take the corned beef instead,” I reply. “It really doesn't matter. Just get whatever's easiest.”
“No, you should have what you want,” she says, turning and heading away. She's a strange girl sometimes, but she's been working here for a long time now and she always gets things done. Glancing over at Hinch, I see that he seems to be watching her as well, and I can't help wondering whether he has the tiniest crush on her. There's just a certain look in his eyes right now.
“It'd be good if you could get out there before lunch,” I tell him.
He turns to me.
“To Millard's Point?” I add.
“Right. Sure. That's fine.” Getting to his feet, he seems a little flustered as he starts gathering a few items from his desk. I swear, sometimes I think Hinch isn't quite made for this world. He's so goddamn clumsy, and I watch as he almost knocks a bunch of files off his desk.
“Grab me some gum while you're out,” I add. “And tape.”
He turns and stares at me, his eyes filled with shock, as if I just made some kind of crazy request.
“Did you hear what I just said?” I ask. “Gum and a roll of tape. But only if you happen to go by the store on your way back.”
“That's fine,” he stammers, turning and hurrying away.
I sit and watch for a moment as he bumps into Katie at the door. He seems completely awkward talking to her, and I think perhaps my earlier suspicions were right after all. Hinch does have a crush, although I'm not sure he's quite Katie's type. I've seen her down at one of the local bars a few times in the past, and she usually goes for the big, muscle-bound guys who ride loud bikes and spend their nights playing pool. Somehow, I really don't think she'd be very interested in a man like Hinch who acts like he still needs his mother to get his laundry done. Still, good luck to him, and I watch with a mixture of surprise and fascination as he and Katie head out the door, talking and laughing.
Well, she's talking and laughing, and he just seems nerv
ous. Then again, Katie's one of those people who talks incessantly, and I figure she can carry both sides of a conversation.
Turning back to my computer, I start bringing up some more case files on the disappearance of Charlotte and Tony Stewart. They had a daughter, too. A little girl named Esther. I guess there's probably no connection to what happened with Molly Abernathy, or to the murder of Leanne Halperin, but at the same time I feel like there's one very thin connection that might link everything together.
And that connection is the fact that Buddy has a history of shutting down investigations that have anything to do with Devil's Lookout.
Forty-Eight
Liam Cane
Today
“Katie!” I call out, waving at her across the dark parking lot. “Hey Katie, over here!”
She stops at the bar's door, standing just beneath the bright, garish neon sign. For a moment, she seems not to even recognize me, but finally she takes a few steps closer and a cautious smile spreads across her face. I think she's actually surprised to see me.
“Hinch? Is that you?”
“Fancy seeing you here!” I continue, trying to sound casual. I'm also trying very hard to keep from looking at her chest, because I can't help noticing that she's wearing a very revealing dress. It's almost like she wants guys to stare at her cleavage.
“Are you coming to the Stud for a drink?” she asks.
“Well, I...”
My voice trails off. I guess I didn't really think ahead and come up with an excuse for showing up like this.
“Hinch,” she continues, “the Stud is kind of a rough bar. Well, not rough, but it has its own particular crowd. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you'd be entirely comfortable. Maybe one of the other bars in town would be more your style. You know, somewhere quieter and less boisterous.”
“I can handle a loud place,” I tell her, forcing a smile even though I'm dazzled by the glitter that's flashing in her eyes.
