Mercy (The Guardians Series 1)

by Wendy Saunders

  ‘Chief, I’m not really comfortable discussing a customer’s…’

  ‘What did she want?’ he cut off the nervous man’s protestations.

  ‘She wanted to access her Aunt’s safety deposit box.’ he stammered.

  ‘And you let her?’

  ‘She had the key and she is listed as a signatory and as Evelyn’s sole heir, it’s her right.’

  ‘She removed something, what was it?’

  ‘I...I don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me.’

  ‘I’m not I…’

  With growl of frustration he grasped Mr Banbury by the throat and pinned him to the wall.

  ‘What did she take?’

  ‘I swear I don’t know,’ he croaked as the Chief applied pressure to his throat.

  ‘Tell the truth,’ he slammed him against the wall again.

  ‘I am,’ his face was beginning to turn purple, ‘please…’

  Chief Walcott's fist gripped tighter, his eyes glazing over as Mr Banbury scratched and clawed at his hand, trying to get him to release him.

  Suddenly he let go, Banbury slumped to the floor coughing and trying desperately to drag air into his starving lungs. Chief Walcott stared at his hands noticing the welts forming and the thin lines of blood. A buzzing began in his ears getting louder and louder as his vision began to grey slightly at the edges and his heartbeat picked up. The tiny airless room felt like it was shrinking, he needed to get out.

  He yanked the door so hard one of the hinges splintered away from the frame. Rushing out into the corridor he almost collided with someone. Not even bothering to apologise or even look up he staggered out into the main floor, shoving past people, his eyes fixed on the entrance. The noise was almost a roar in his ears now as he burst out into the soft cool drizzle. He rounded the corner and disappeared into the alley.

  Pressing his forehead against the damp bricks as the slow steady rain filled the back of his collar he sucked in great big lungfuls of air. Slowly the spots in front of his eyes disappeared and his frantic heartbeat eased. His body was still racked with shudders but he could once again hear the faint sounds of traffic and smell the rotting garbage of the nearby dumpster.

  He couldn’t believe what he had almost done to the bank manager. It was like he’d stepped outside his body and watched someone else take over, someone he didn’t recognise. All he knew was in that one moment he’d wanted to hurt that man, he’d wanted to squeeze and squeeze until there was no life left in him.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  Suddenly he found himself pinned face first against the wall and he couldn’t move. Scraping his head a fraction to the right he tried to look using his peripheral vision but there was nothing there. He felt another sharp abrupt jerk and he was spun around and slammed back into the wall, once again immobilised, only now he could see the alley. His eyes widened in surprise as his gaze locked on familiar hazel coloured eyes.

  Charles Connell lowered his hand but the chief remained trapped by an invisible force.

  ‘Hello Tommy,’ his voice was low but carried over the rain.

  ‘Charlie,’ he ground out from between clenched teeth, ‘release me.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he smiled coolly, ‘not just yet.’

  ‘You think I’m impressed by your cheap parlour tricks?’ he scoffed, ‘you forget I’ve known you a long time.’

  ‘You think you know me,’ Charles clarified, ‘but I can assure you, you never knew the half of what I was capable of.’

  He raised his hand again and Walcott was pressed even more painfully into the wall before he started to slide upwards painfully slowly, taking off any layers of skin exposed.

  ‘Did you really think my wife was the only one descended from a powerful witching family?’

  ‘Is that what all this is about?’ he spat contemptuously, ‘a pissing match between the Wests and the Connells? Is that why you killed her? Isabel didn’t deserve what you did to her and her mother.’

  Charles’s mouth curved in amusement.

  ‘How very like you Tommy, as usual always two steps behind everyone else.’

  ‘Just tell me why? Why’d you do it? Why her? Why the others?’ his voice dropped to a broken whisper, ‘why Jimmy?’

  Charles’s expression flattened giving nothing away.

  ‘What do you want Charlie?’ Walcott gritted his teeth even tighter against the helpless wave of rage at the sharp pain of seeing his former friend.

  Charles tilted his head slightly as he made a small gesture with his hand and Walcott slid down the wall sharply.

  ‘I came for one reason and one reason only,’ he stepped closer so there was only a breath between them.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Stay away from my daughter,’ he warned, his voice cold and menacing, ‘if you harm her....’

  His voice dropped to a whisper and Walcott felt the pressure against his body tighten painfully.

  ‘You’re a dead man…’

  Satisfied he’d made his point Charles turned to leave but at the last moment he paused at the entrance to the alley and looked back at the man he had once called brother.

  ‘If it makes you feel any better,’ he spoke blankly, his voice devoid of any emotion, ‘Jimmy didn’t suffer, he was dead before he hit the ground.’

  Walcott howled like a caged animal, fighting against the invisible bonds until Charles was long gone and when the restraints finally dissolved he dropped to his knees on the sodden filthy ground and wept bitterly.

  Olivia dropped down on the rug in front of the fire next to Theo and handed him a steaming mug of coffee.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure this is Hester’s Grimoire?’ he asked dubiously.

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded, ‘why?’

  ‘It’s complete nonsense,’ his brow creased as he leafed carefully through the pages crackling with age, ‘it doesn’t make any senses at all.’

  ‘I know that the language is a little archaic, which frankly shouldn’t bother you and she seems to like to rhyme an awful lot, but most of the spells and charms are pretty self explanatory.’

  ‘How do you know? It’s not even written in English; in fact it doesn’t look like any language I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘What?’ Olivia laughed, ‘of course it’s written in English.’

  ‘No its not,’ Theo told her seriously handing the book back to her.

  ‘What?’

  She set her cup of tea down and leafed through the pages, although the letters once again swirled and moved they settled down into English and she found she could read it easily.

  ‘This is an old housewives charm for shining the silverware and this one here is a draught for relieving the symptoms of ague.’

  ‘You can read it’ Theo mused, ‘interesting.’

  ‘Maybe it’s because I’m a West,’ Olivia replied thoughtfully. ‘I suppose Hester could have charmed it so only certain people could read it. It would be interesting to see if anyone other than me can read it.’

  ‘Have you come across any mention of Nathaniel yet?’

  ‘No, but then I haven’t finished looking through it yet.’

  Leaning back against the couch he stretched his legs out in front of the fire and sipped his coffee whilst he watched her. Olivia was reading avidly, a small smile tugging at her lips while her tea sat forgotten and going cold. It was always the same he thought with amusement, the second she started reading she would forget everything else. He’d lost count of how many cups of cold tea he’d thrown away.

  ‘Have you called Margaret?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ she murmured her gaze not leaving the book, ‘I’m not ready to talk to Mags yet.’

  ‘I do understand that but now that the initial shock has worn off, maybe you should give her a chance to explain.’

  She looked up from the pages her lips fixed in a tight line.

  ‘I know you’re only try
ing to help,’ she answered, ‘but unless she knows the identity of the murderer or how to stop a demon from rising I’m not really interested in anything she has to say.’

  Choosing wisely to drop the subject for now he continued to drink his coffee while he watched her return to the book. He’d just give her some space and then sooner or later he’d give her another little nudge. She was an incredibly stubborn woman but whether she liked it or not she needed to speak with her friend, Margaret was too important to her for her not to.

  ‘Hey,’ Olivia frowned suddenly, ‘I think I’ve found something.’

  Theo sat forward in interest but when he glanced at the page he just saw strange spidery symbols fanning outwards on the page like a web.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Hang on,’ she murmured her gaze scanning the next several lines before she turned the page and read that too.

  ‘Well?’ he asked impatiently.

  ‘This is definitely the spell Hester used to open the devil’s trap and seal Nathaniel in there, it mentions him by name. It looks as if she wrote the spell herself and she used some pretty heavy weight binding magic woven with blood magic.’

  She continued to read through a few more lines.

  ‘If I’m reading this right, this is incredibly powerful magic, the devil’s trap was built to last centuries but it has lasted barely three.’

  ‘So?’ Theo shrugged.

  ‘So what happened,’ she replied absently, ‘what made the magic start to break down?’

  ‘The murders?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t mention them at all, I still don’t understand their importance or how they are supposed to raise the demon. I suppose it could…oh’

  She suddenly stopped and read further.

  ‘Well that explains… a lot,’ her face paled and she sat back dropping the book back into her lap. ‘The prison remains intact as long as a West remains on this land.’

  Her mind was working furiously now the pieces were starting to fall into place.

  ‘The night my mother died,’ she spoke her voice cracked, she cleared her throat and tried again, ‘the night mom and Nana died and Aunt Evie was attacked, it must have been part of the plan to raise the demon. The killer knew that as long as a West remained alive and living on this land the trap couldn’t be opened, but with all of them gone the trap was weakened and I assume could be opened by whatever raising spell they are planning on using, a spell which requires the murder victims. So the killer took out Aunt Evie first, he must have assumed she was already dead, and then he came to my house and killed Nana and my mom.’

  ‘But your father killed your mom?’

  ‘Yes he did,’ she breathed heavily, the pain a hot hard ball burning at the back of her throat, ‘you know I never understood why he kept me alive, why he killed them and took me.’

  ‘Because he loved you?’ Theo answered quietly, ‘because no matter what he had done in a fit of madness you were his child, his blood.’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head sadly, ‘not because I was his blood but because I was hers.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘The last few lines on Hester’s spell,’ she quoted,

  ‘With my blood this trap here make, and by my blood this trap will break.’

  ‘That’s why the ritual could not be completed last time,’ Theo’s eyes widened in shock.

  ‘That’s right,’ Olivia answered numbly, ‘because he needs my blood to open the devil’s trap.’

  Chapter 22.

  Tammy looked up from her desk as the door to her office opened, smiling as Layton Macallister walked in with his trademark confident swagger. His dark hair was greying as was the day old stubble on his face, and his dark blue eyes sparkled with mischief as his face broke into a grin causing the creases in his cheeks which had once been dimples to deepen. Even at fifty Layton was devastatingly good looking. Tammy fought the ridiculous urge to smooth down her hair and sigh like a schoolgirl. She was a grown woman for God’s sake and the Mayor at that. The problem was the man not only had a face as handsome as sin, but when he opened his mouth......

  ‘Hello Tammy,’ his voice was a deep sexy drawl which always gave her a jolt in all the right places.

  ‘Layton,’ she stood and rounded the desk.

  ‘You look good.’ His gaze swept her trim figure encased in lilac and down her legs to the ridiculously high heels the woman insisted on wearing, but damn she had a fine pair of legs.

  ‘What’s this?’ she tugged at the scruff on his face.

  ‘I thought I’d try a beard’ he shrugged he stroked his chin in amusement.

  ‘It doesn’t suit you,’ she replied, actually it did suit him; it was as downright sexy as the rest of him, God dammit.

  ‘Well, maybe if you made an honest man of me, I could be persuaded to shave it off.’

  The laugh bubbled out before she could stop it.

  ‘When are you going to stop asking?’

  ‘When you stop looking at me like you want to nibble on me.’

  ‘Layton,’ she warned.

  ‘Alright,’ he held up his hands in mock surrender, ‘tell me where you’re at with the case.’

  ‘I have copies of the files here for you to go over.’

  ‘And Walcott?’

  ‘Getting worse,’ she shook her head. ‘I had a phone call from George Banbury the Manager of Old Mercy Mutual. He has made a complaint against Chief Walcott; he says he physically assaulted him yesterday.’

  ‘Why?’ he took the files she offered him.

  ‘Apparently a resident had been in the bank taking something from a safety deposit box and the Chief wanted to know what it was. When Mr Banbury wouldn’t tell him what that item was the Chief pinned him to the wall and tried to choke him.’

  ‘Jesus, what a mess,’ he flipped the file open and started to scan through the notes, ‘where is the Chief now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she glanced down at her watch, ‘he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.’

  ‘Who was the resident?’

  ‘What?’ she replied distractedly.

  ‘You said a resident at the bank, who was it?’

  ‘Oh, her name is Olivia West.’

  ‘Olivia West?’ his head snapped up, ‘Charles Connell’s daughter?’

  ‘Yes,’ her eyes narrowed, ‘how did you know?’

  ‘After he kidnapped his daughter and escaped from Mercy, he made it as far as Philadelphia, I was one of the arresting officers that night.’

  ‘Small world,’ Tammy murmured as she watched him thoughtfully.

  ‘It is,’ he agreed, ‘you know some cases stick with you; I remember that one as clear as day.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because of Charles Connell,’ he cast his mind back, ‘he was mad when we took him in; I mean absolutely ranting, something about a demon and a trap. Last I heard he was locked up in a mental institution.’

  ‘Not anymore,’

  ‘What?’ his eyes widened, ‘they let him out?’

  Tammy shook her head.

  ‘He escaped, he’s on the run. I would have thought you would have heard about it. They sent out a news bulletin to all law enforcement agencies.’

  ‘I’ve been out of the loop since the shooting.’

  Something about the way he said that made her wonder if there was more to his leave than he was saying.

  ‘Well, anyway,’ Tammy glanced again at her watch, ‘I have a meeting in an hour I need to prepare for; Audrey has booked you in at The Black Cat.’

  ‘The motel over on North Hill road?’ his voice softened, ‘yeah I remember it.’

  Tammy blushed, avoiding his gaze.

  ‘If you have any questions with regard to the case files just contact my office.’

  He nodded as he turned to leave.

  ‘You know Tammy,’ he turned back to her as she looked up, ‘last time I was here I never di
d get an answer to my question.’

  ‘I know,’ she answered quietly, ‘but you already know the answer and nothing’s changed.’

  For a moment she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes then it was gone.

  ‘I’ll call once I’ve reviewed the files.’

  She nodded, watching in silence as he clicked the door closed quietly behind him.

  Chief Walcott climbed into his car and started the engine. Looking down at his watch he cursed, he was already running late to meet with the damn Mayor. He was just about to put the car in reverse and ease out of his parking space when the radio crackled.

  ‘Chief.’

  ‘Walker,’ he answered, ‘I’m running late what is it?’

  ‘Just thought you’d want to know, the county search team found Lucas Campbell’s body, or what’s left of him. It’s pretty bad.’

  ‘God damn it,’ he hit the dash in frustration.

  ‘Where are the remains now?’

  ‘They’ve been sent over to Doc Hughes, for a formal ID and autopsy.’

  ‘Alright, I’ll head over there now and see what he’s found out.’

  ‘I thought you had a meeting with the Mayor?’

  ‘It was cancelled.’

  It was a lie but that wasn’t important, he’d get the Mayor her proof then she’d have to listen to what he was trying to tell her, to tell all of them, that Olivia West was as much a murderer as her father.’

  ‘Alright Chief, we’ll see you back at the station later.’

  As the radio went dead, he reversed out and headed towards the medical centre, hoping that this was the smoking gun that he needed.

  Doctor Hughes looked up as a shadow fell over his notes.

  ‘Chief,’ he nodded, ‘I wondered if you’d be by.’

  ‘Cam says you have Lucas Campbell’s body.’

  ‘Well what’s left of him, if it’s him,’ he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he took a seat in front of the desk.

  ‘The remains are in pretty bad shape,’ he blew out a deep breath, ‘he was skinned, the entire corpse, right down to the muscle layer. Lucas was missing for the longest time, so his remains were exposed to the elements for longer. Not only was the corpse badly damaged from the skin being removed but with decomposition and not to mention animals picking at the remains it all makes a definite ID very hard.’