Smoke Rising

by Craig Halloran

  “I’ve got everything I need: my own ways,” Smoke said, tapping his head, “and my own gear. Just step aside and let me make this happen.” He looked straight into her eyes. “I want this murderer as much as you do, and at some point you’re going to have to put some trust in me.”

  Sidney shook her head. “We’ll see.”

  Ted grumbled at the fries in his basket. “Where the heck are my onion rings?”

  She glanced back at Smoke. “So, do you have any leads?”

  He drained his Coke and clopped the plastic tumbler on the table. “Nope.”

  CHAPTER 27

  “You know,” Smoke said, riding shotgun in the Interceptor, “there’s one thing I can’t figure.”

  “About what?” Sidney said.

  “AV. If he turned into a werewolf—”

  “A werewolf?” Oh lord, please don’t be some Twilight geek.

  “In theory.”

  “Uh, stupid theory.” She pulled the car to a stop at the light. “I think I like the Bigfoot idea better.”

  “Well, you saw a pack of wolves for yourself. So did I.”

  “And you thought they were coyotes. Perhaps they were were-coyotes?” The light changed, and she eased on the gas. “That said, I’m not liking your theory. It’s ludicrous.”

  “My point is, AV’s clothes were gone. Not a stitch. If he turned into a werewolf or something else, there would have been evidence of something.” He pointed up the highway. “Take the next exit.”

  “So, you’re ruling out the supernatural then?” She nodded her head. “Good for you.”

  “Well—”

  “Well, I won’t have any of it.” She accelerated. “Monsters don’t roam Washington.”

  “Hah, Washington’s full of them. They just prefer human form.” His head turned right. “Uh, you missed my exit.”

  Sidney jammed on the brakes and shifted into reverse. She eyed the rearview mirror and gunned the gas.

  “Hey,” Smoke said, “there’s a lot of traffic coming our way. Not a good decision.”

  “What’s the matter, are you afraid I might run over a groovy ghoulie?”

  “A what?”

  “Nothing.” A few car horns blared as they whizzed by. Sidney gunned the Interceptor down the exit ramp. “How much farther?”

  “About three miles.” He shifted in his seat. “Are you telling me your skin didn’t crawl when you stood in the middle of that bloodbath?”

  “No, my skin didn’t crawl.”

  “Your friend’s head was twisted clean off.”

  Her throat tightened a little. She thought about Dydeck’s family. The funeral. A closed coffin was never a good thing. “I’ll let forensics figure that out.”

  “And I guess you’ll read it in the reports you’ll never see. Ha.” He pointed right. “Turn there.”

  She hit the blinker and turned right down a blacktopped road marred with low spots and potholes. The car plunged into a pothole and lurched upward.

  Smoke stared out the window. “You just lost a cap.”

  She kept driving.

  “Aren’t you going back for it?”

  “No.”

  “But that’s littering.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  “Yes—”

  She hit the brakes, lunging Smoke forward. Putting the car in reverse, she hit pothole after pothole. Coming to a stop, Sidney put the car in park and got out. Outside, she located the hubcap, picked it up, walked over to Smoke’s door, opened it, and dropped it in his lap. She got back in the car again.

  “What do you want me to do with this?”

  “Shove it.”

  Smoke flipped it around between his hands. “Usually these old cars are nothing but black rims. It’ll probably look better without it anyway.” He tossed the cap in the back seat. “Take the next left. Another mile up or so.”

  Sidney’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. She couldn’t shake the image of Dydeck’s headless body from her mind. She knew his wife, Jean, and his children, Larry and Zoey. Her heart ached for them.

  “Are you all right?” Smoke said.

  “Fine.”

  “This is strange.” He cleared his throat. “And I know plenty about strange. I’ve seen bodies after fifty-caliber bullets ripped through them. At least, I’ve seen what was left of them. I saw plenty of people decapitated in the desert. It’s gruesomely horrible. That said, I’ve never sensed anything like this before. Eerie.”

  Goosebumps rose on her arms as she wound the wheel to the left. Sidney couldn’t deny the eeriness she felt either, or the sickness the scene stirred inside her.

  They passed by some small homes and trailers.

  “Next right,” Smoke said.

  Ahead, an old gas station sign was mounted on a light pole twenty feet in the air. Below it was an old service station, neatly kept. It had two closed garage bays on the left and the store front on the right. The gas pumps were gone, but the overhead canopy remained. It all had been converted into an apartment or house of some sort.

  “This is where you live?” she said. The place was almost forty minutes from D.C., east of the Potomac. “Strange place for a gas station.”

  Smoke popped open his door, but before he got out he said, “It’s an old place. Mostly for the locals and family. I picked it up at an estate auction several years ago.” He closed the door and headed toward the apartment. “Are you coming?”

  Her palms started sweating.

  Strange place to be with a strange man.

  CHAPTER 28

  She picked up the file on AV and made her way after him, eyeing the garage bays.

  “What’s in there?”

  “That’s where I keep my friends,” he said, reaching inside his pocket and producing a set of keys.

  “Ah, Fat Sam and Guppy then?”

  He tilted his head back and laughed. “You remember! No, but I can’t wait to tell them you said that.” He stood at the door beside the large block glass window. The heavy grey steel door had both a keypad and a key hole. He stepped in front of her and punched in the code. “I hate carrying keys.”

  Me too.

  Smoke shoved the door open and stepped aside, gesturing. “After you.”

  Sidney crossed over the threshold. Her heart raced a little.

  What is wrong with me?

  She took a long draw through her nose. The glass wall offered little light to an otherwise dim room. It was quiet.

  “Hold on.” Smoke brushed by her. He stopped at a circuit box and pushed up the black handle. The overhead incandescent lights came on, and the room hummed with life. “That should be better.”

  A sofa, kitchenette, refrigerator, cupboards, and an island with two stools made for a quaint apartment remarkably similar to her own. An office desk and computer monitors filled one back corner. Two tall dark-green gun safes filled another. It was a lot more modern and cozy than she expected from seeing the outside.

  No back door.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” He sat down and turned on the computer. “As best you can, anyway. It’s not much for entertaining. And ignore the cobwebs; I haven’t dusted in over a year.”

  “Ha ha.” She took a seat on the sofa, tossed the folder on the coffee table, and opened it up. “So, bounty hunter, you don’t have any leads?”

  “Nuh-uh.” He pecked the keyboard of his computer. “But give it some time and I’ll have something.”

  Adjacent to him, she squinted her eyes toward the monitors. There were four in all. The biggest displayed security camera feeds from outside. Smoke’s broad back blocked the front screen from her view. This is awkward. She pulled out a picture of Rod Brown, AV’s goon.

  “Maybe we should check up on Rod Brown.”

  Smoke stopped typing and swiveled around in his chair to face her.

  “I already did.”

  “What? When?”

  “Yesterday, right after they took the leash off.” He cocked his head. “You look
angry. Are you angry?”

  Sidney’s nails dug into her palms. She’d been put on ice, but Smoke had been given free range? Ted’s going to get it. “What did you find?”

  “Rod’s dead.”

  She leaned forward. “Dead how? I didn’t see anything in the news about it.”

  “FBI covered it up after I called them. Just like the other one.”

  Sidney’s pulse quickened. Her jaw muscles clenched.

  Smoke rose out of his chair and gestured at it. “Have a seat. I’ll show you what I discovered.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see your big discovery, but I’m fine where I am. Just tell me what you did.”

  “I went to Rod’s apartment, picked the lock, and went inside. His blood was everywhere, just like we saw at Benson. The only difference was Rod’s head was … missing.” He turned and plucked away at the keyboard. “I took a few pictures of the scene before I called. Can you stomach it?”

  She eased her way over and gazed at the monitor. Blood soaked the carpet and was splattered on the walls. Rod’s corpse lay headless on the floor. A queasy feeling sank into her stomach and weakened her knees.

  “It takes time to get used to it,” Smoke said, easing back. “But it’s best you don’t.”

  “Did anyone report a disturbance? Screams? Someone must have heard something.”

  “Growls,” he said, taking hold of the mouse.

  “I don’t think werewolves lock doors.”

  “Maybe someone else did. Besides”—he clicked on another file—“the residents did report seeing something tall and hairy sprinting through the streets.”

  “There are such things as bearded runners, you know.”

  He opened up a video file. “True. But here’s a little local footage I hacked into, from the condos.”

  “You hacked into?”

  “Sort of.” He pointed at the screen. “Just watch.”

  The video clip showed a view of the condominium complex’s parking lot. It was nighttime, and most of the spaces were filled. The lamp posts illuminated much but not all. A tall figure— distant from the camera angle—glided along the perimeter wall.

  Sidney’s spine tingled.

  The image was unclear, but its shoulders were hulking, and a snout looked to be protruding from its face. It jumped, grasping the high wall’s ledge and pulling itself over with ease. Then it vanished. It all happened in a few seconds.

  “Go back,” she said, “frame by frame.”

  Smoke toggled the keyboard. The video wound back frame by frame.

  “There’s something in its hand.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Smoke said, zooming in. It looked like a dripping skull was clutched in a big paw. “I’m pretty sure that’s Rod’s head.”

  CHAPTER 29

  The human brain is a powerful organ. It can detect the difference between reality and the finest computer-generated images. What Sidney saw wasn’t a hoax, but that wasn’t the problem. What she saw wasn’t human. The limbs were too long. The movements impossibly fluid.

  “Maybe a seven-foot-tall ape escaped from the zoo,” Smoke said, powering down the monitors. “Or maybe there is a Sasquatch, even though I always figured him to be bigger.”

  Sidney rubbed her head.

  “It’s a lot to take in,” Smoke said. “I have some aspirin.”

  “No.” She made her way back over to the sofa. “Just give me a moment.”

  Smoke turned on a TV that hung on the wall. The local news was on.

  “You know, it always amazes me how deft the FBI are at covering things up. The sad thing is, I don’t think there’s enough news time to air all the stories they cover up. And if there were, people would be overwhelmed by the reality of the horrible world we really live in.” He sat down on the other end of the sofa and kicked his boots off onto the table. “And in the last few days, I’ve learned the world is even worse than I thought it was.”

  “We need to learn what we can about the Drake.” She stared at the big screen. “I spent my time poking around the last two days, and I picked up a few things. It’s owned by a real estate investor. Aside from the hotel and restaurants, I found almost nothing. There isn’t even a website about the barge island on the river.”

  “Sure, follow the money. I’m sure the IRS has something.”

  “I made some calls to some friends, and they’re pretty tight-lipped right now.” She spread some of the file pictures out on the table. “But I did learn the Drake Corporation operates a lot of subsidiary companies. They own most of these locations that Adam Vaughn frequents.”

  “I think he’ll show up.”

  “Where? Here?” She shook her head. “He’s hiding somewhere.”

  “He’s cocky. He’ll be out and about.”

  “We can’t stake all of those places out, and they’ll be looking for us.”

  “True, but that’s why I have Fat Sam and Guppy on it.”

  She rolled her eyes and got up. Damn, I’m still in my gym clothes. “I’m going. If you can control yourself, stay put and I’ll swing by and get you tomorrow.” She looked around. “Say, do you have a phone?”

  “I have a burner.”

  “Let me have it.” She pulled her phone from her bag. “Here’s mine.”

  They each put themselves in the other’s phone as a contact.

  “Wow, you just gave me your number and I didn’t even ask for it. I’m flattered.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it from him. There was a text from her mother.

  It read:Allison’s gone.

  ***

  Racing down the road, Sidney pounded on the steering wheel. “I don’t need this right now.” Her phone rang. “What’s going on, Mom?”

  “It’s been seven hours, Sidney, and we can’t find her anywhere.” Her mother sobbed. “I’m worried.”

  “This isn’t the first time it’s happened,” Sid said, accelerating up the highway ramp. “Aren’t you used to it?”

  “Never, but Megan,” Sally’s voiced cracked, “it’s not fair to Megan. It breaks my heart and makes me so angry. And sad!”

  “Did she steal a car? How did she get out of there? You’re five miles from anywhere.”

  There was a silence.

  “Mom, you are five miles from anywhere, aren’t you? The camp, not the house?”

  “We thought the house would be a nice change.”

  Sidney squeezed her phone. Her parents used to be tough as nails, but over the past few years they’d gotten softer. Almost feeble in many ways.

  God, don’t let that happen to me.

  “Your father and Joe are out looking for her now. I’m sure they’ll find her.”

  No, they won’t.

  “Mom,” Sidney softened her voice, “Allison’s going to have to figure this out on her own. You’ve given her all the love you can. There’s nothing more you can do.”

  Sobbing, her mother said, “You’re a good girl, Sid. You know how to say the right things.”

  “I’m just repeating what you told me.”

  “Oh!” her mother said, perking up. “I hear the garage door opening.” There was a pause. Suddenly, she screamed in the phone. “It’s Allison! He’s got Allison! She looks okay!” Click!

  Sidney looked at her phone and said to it, “Are you frickin’ kidding me?”

  ***

  Buzz … Buzz … Buzz …

  Sidney stretched her arms through her bedsheets, fingers searching for her phone. Bright morning light peeked in through the apartment’s blinds. She found her phone. 8:00 a.m. “Ugh. Already.” She’d been in bed by 2:00 am, but it felt like five minutes ago. Screw it. She set the snooze and sank back into her bed.

  Buzz … Buzz … Buzz …

  She forced her heavy eyelids open. Her phone was still clutched in her hand. 8:08 a.m. A crack of sunlight gleamed in her eye. Sidney’s bare feet crossed the cold floor to the window, where she pulled the curtains closed. That’s better. She set th
e snooze again and crawled back under the sheets. A few things raced through her mind. Smoke. Allison. Megan. Smoke. She drifted off to sleep. She dreamed. Smoke. Fire. Satin sheets.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  She lurched up in bed. A thin film of sweat coated her body. Her phone read 8:13 a.m. That’s odd, she thought, panting a little. It shouldn’t have gone off yet. Sounded like a knock. Yawning, she stretched her arms out wide. Normally she was on the move by six, except on the weekends. I’m not even sure what day it is.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Her eyes widened. She grabbed her Glock and headed toward the front door in nothing but a black T-shirt and panties.

  She’d been in this apartment a year, but only one time had this door been knocked on—by a couple of college guys who lived a few doors over. It had been an invitation to one of their parties. They never looked her way again after she shoved her badge and an earful of her legal authority in their faces.

  Sidney checked the peephole. Smoke stood on the other side, holding a tray of coffee and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

  How does he know where I live!

  CHAPTER 30

  “What are you doing here?” she said through the door.

  “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d bring some coffee over.”

  A playful thought entered Sidney’s mind. She swung the door open.

  Smoke’s jaw hung in the air.

  She plucked a cup of coffee out of the carrier, said “Thank you,” and shut the door in his face. From the other side of the door she heard him say, “I thought I’d come over and we could get a jump on things.”

  “Really, and what kind of things did you want to jump on?” She set down the coffee, headed to her room, grabbed a pair of jeans and a maroon sweater, and slipped them on. She could hear his reply through the door.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You’re a man, aren’t you?”

  There was a pause. “Well, it’s kinda like that, but not the way you think. I have a lead.”

  She buttoned her jeans. “Hold on.” Inside the bathroom she brushed her teeth and clipped her hair up. No. Back in the bedroom, she found an FBI-issued ball cap, put it on, and laced up some rubber-soled boots.