The Depth of Darkness

by L. T. Ryan

  “I’d have to go look at those old textbooks.” Which wasn’t exactly true. I remembered what I had learned. But I also wasn’t qualified to be making any kind of determination about the man. Not without talking to him in the proper setting first. And even then, I couldn’t call myself a psychologist. I knew enough to be dangerous. The degree helped in the sense that a wet dishrag helps when you run out of toilet paper. It creates a mess you can’t just flush away.

  “Best guess, Mitch?” Sam’s expression turned serious. He thirsted for knowledge on what we were facing.

  “This cat’s got no family that we’re aware of. Just his wife and now she’s dead. He’s only got a couple of friends that we’ve found. Born and raised in the city. Never served in the military. Never spent time abroad or anywhere else in the U.S. of A. He’s a loner. He’s suicidal, based on his actions the other night. He might have killed his old lady. Would he do it again? He’s on the run, he’s alone or with one other person. If cornered, or in the right situation, he’d kill again. Especially if the person he’s with is so inclined. He might have taken his wife’s life, someone he cared about, at least at one time. If he did that, he probably won’t hesitate to take another life that means less to him. As for all the other stuff, we’d need a profiler to give us some help.”

  Sam nodded and said nothing.

  “We might need to dig a bit deeper. Who was the other guy? Maybe there was a childhood friend who moved away that he’s kept in touch with.”

  Sam nodded again, remaining silent.

  “He’s not that old. We should dig up his elementary school and see if any teachers remember him.”

  Sam nodded. “Good idea.”

  “Let’s also find out what happened to his parents.”

  “I got part of that,” Sam said. “Deceased.”

  “Yeah, I got that, too. But how?”

  He nodded again. He pulled a notebook from his inside pocket and jotted on a blank page.

  “I see this guy killing himself before going to jail,” I said. “I say that with one caveat though. One that could lead to him making us take him out.”

  Sam looked up from his notebook and lifted an eyebrow. “Do tell, partner.”

  “Huff said there were two of them. Now, we still don’t know if the ID was good or not, but—”

  “Strength in numbers. We find the childhood friend, we probably find the guy Roy’s riding with, and maybe find where they’re staying.”

  I snapped my fingers and aimed my forefinger at him. “You got it, bro. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Chapter 11

  I was on my cell phone before we got back outside. I spoke so fast that Huff told me to slow down at least ten times.

  “Okay, Tanner,” Huff said. “I got some of this in the works already. Expect to have the parental history on my desk by the time you get back. I like the childhood friend angle, but don’t get your hopes up there. I’ll get a couple guys on it once we find out which schools he went to. Then we can see if any of his old teachers are still present at the school or in the area. Some of them might be retired by now. I sent Horace and Fairchild out to act on a tip we received after you left.”

  “You did what?” I shouted.

  Sam turned his head, dipped his chin to his chest and looked at me over the rim of his sunglasses. I waved him off.

  “Set your huge ego aside, Tanner. We need to get this guy and bring him in. Besides, it’s not a tip on his location, rather about him. A friend stepped forward, said he had some information that could help us. I figure, at the least, he’ll lead us to Miller’s social circle.”

  “Speaking of that, let’s get his PC.”

  “What?”

  “His computer,” I said, leaving out the words dumb and ass.

  “Oh, yeah, good call. I’ll get forensics on that. Maybe we’ll find some dirty pictures on there.”

  “Not quite what I was thinking, Huff, but have at it.”

  “Shut up, Tanner. You know what I mean.”

  I wasn’t going there.

  “All right, Tanner. You two get back here ASAP.”

  I hung up and adjusted the vent so the cold air hit me in the face. The temperature had risen past eighty degrees with the humidity even higher. Oppressive was the word to describe it. I shifted in my seat so I could look at Sam without twisting my neck. A kink had developed that ran from my right shoulder to the base of my skull. The result of sleeping on the couch all night. And for what reason? Because I’d been too lazy to climb upstairs.

  “What’s up?” Sam asked.

  “He’s already working the parent angle.” I rubbed my neck and shoulder. “Said he should have a history worked up for us by the time we get back.”

  “Why’d you yell?”

  “He brought Horace and Fairchild in on this.”

  “Gotta be kidding me.”

  “I know, right.”

  “Why?”

  “Acting on a tip,” I said, shaking my head. “Supposedly one of Roy’s friends made a call and said he had some information.”

  “The damning kind?”

  I hiked my shoulders an inch. “Dunno. But the hope is that friend A might lead us to friends B through E.”

  “Assuming he has that many friends.”

  “Right.”

  “And the teacher thing?”

  “He’s gonna have the records pulled, then check with the city to find out if any of those teachers are still working and/or living in the area. But you know, even if we find one or two, they might not remember him.”

  Sam nodded as he reached for his blinker. He tapped it up with his left hand and swerved the Camaro a lane to the right.

  I glanced at the speedometer. We were going one hundred and five. Without lights and sirens.

  “I bet we get pulled over,” I said.

  He laughed. “Wouldn’t that be some shit?”

  “We could have them give us an escort.”

  “You know these pricks, Mitch. They’d be happier if they took us in for reckless.”

  “What’s this us crap? You carrying a gerbil up your ass?”

  Sam laughed and eased up on the gas. “Guess I can drop down to about eighty-five. Ain’t no point in getting pulled over.”

  “That’s why we should take my car at all times.”

  “Your car smells.”

  I looked at him, paused, then said, “Like your sister after a night out.”

  The banter went on for most of the ride. It was silly and pointless and it distracted us from the mess we would have to face when we reached the office. If only I’d known that the situation was going to get worse, I might have told Sam to turn the car around.

  Chapter 12

  Ms. Suarez dismissed her class of third graders for recess. Debbie and Beans were the last to leave the classroom. Even Ms. Suarez had left before them. They took their time walking down the hall. Ms. Suarez waited at the corner, waving them forward.

  “Come on, Beans,” Debby said.

  “Bernie,” he said.

  “Whatever,” she said.

  She wrapped her hand around his wrist and pulled him forward. She expected him to complain about his asthma. He didn’t. He jogged along beside her. She heard his ever-present wheezing increase a notch. Recess was their time to get outside and away from the rest of the kids, most of whom tortured poor Bernard Holland. Debby knew that one day her friend would show them all. He’d grow up to program computers to run faster and bigger than they ever had. He’d build planes that would cross the globe in an hour while riding amid the stratosphere. Or maybe he’d invent a stove that could cook dinner in a minute or two instead of thirty to forty. That’s what he’d told her one time, at least. A snap of the fingers, he’d said. Mac and cheese as you please.

  “You two,” Ms. Suarez said. “Always lagging behind.”

  “He has asthma,” Debby pointed out to the teacher.

  Ms. Suarez smiled and offered a knowing nod. She ushered them past
the tinted glass door. They stepped outside, his wrist still in her hand, and walked toward the outer edge of the recess area. While the other kids turned into four-foot tall savages, Debby and Beans found a shady spot under an old oak. He went to sit down in the grass.

  “Stop,” Debby said.

  “Why?” he asked. “Did you see a spider?” Beans was terrified of spiders. One time Debby had stuck a fake but realistic looking spider in his cereal. He screamed so loud and so long that he nearly passed out. She wished she had it on video. Not that she’d ever share it with anyone.

  “No,” she said. “The ground is wet from that storm this weekend.”

  Beans bent over and placed his hand on the ground to verify this. When he straightened back up, he nodded. “Let’s go over to the bench.”

  They walked along the back fence toward the other side of the recess yard. There was no shade to protect them from the bright sun. The air felt heavy, like they were walking through a cloud. Debby’s gaze traveled from one kid to the next. Most of them played on the large play set in the middle. Swings and slides and ladders and some kind of half-circle geometric plaything. Fun, she thought. But not for Beans.

  “Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “Hurry up.”

  “I’m already hurrying, Debby,” he argued.

  They reached the corner and turned right. The bench was close to the school building, just off to the side a few feet in front of the gate. Debby once again turned her head and watched the kids having fun. She felt a slight urge to join them. She never did, though. Not even on the days when Beans had been absent from school.

  She felt Beans’s grip on her hand tighten, and she looked back at him.

  He stared at her with a serious look on his face. “You should go have fun, Debby.”

  “I am having fun. Nothing is better than hanging out with you Beans. Besides, those kids don’t like me.”

  “No, they don’t like me. If you ditched me, they’d like you just fine.”

  “Nonsense and gibberish, my good man.”

  “What?” He smiled and let out a single laugh.

  She smiled back and tugged on him in an effort to get him to pick up his pace. When they’d almost reached the bench, she cast one last gaze toward the kids. Sometimes she wished that Beans wasn’t there to occupy all her time. Those thoughts were fleeting and she chastised herself for thinking such things. There was no kid she’d ever met who spoke to her or understood her the way he did. She’d be lost in the third grade jungle without him by her side.

  By the time they reached the bench, Beans looked like he wanted to collapse. He sat down in a huff. His hand reached into his pocket. She imagined that he wrapped his thin fingers around his inhaler. But he didn’t pull it out. No, Beans sat on that bench and took a deep rattled breath or two. He looked like a fish who’d escaped from a hook after dangling over the water for a minute. He glanced up at her and smiled.

  She felt relieved.

  So she reached behind her back and stuck her fingers through the chain linked fence. The metal felt damp, like it had been sweating. Everything else had been. Why not the fence? She didn’t watch the kids playing and having a good time. Instead, she looked up and stared at the clouds for a long moment. A cool breeze passed. It had the same smell her yard used to have when her dad was around and he mowed the grass on a Saturday morning. She remembered lying on her belly, watching cartoons and hearing the sound of the mower buzzing by the window. Those stinky gas fumes would always follow, but they’d soon be replaced by smell of freshly cut grass.

  Beans said something that she didn’t quite hear. She started to look down at him when she noticed the strange man from earlier. He was on the other side of the gate, maybe fifty feet or so away. He leaned against the side of the school and watched her. That shiver went down her spine again. Three times in one day. That, as her mother might say, was a sign.

  The guy narrowed his eyes and then lowered his head. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

  Debby watched on in horror. Beans said something again. Maybe he repeated himself. She wasn’t sure. His words sounded like they came from a hundred miles away. Or a few feet through the water. It was all the same to her.

  The guy turned and stuck the keys into the side of the building. He leaned forward into what she supposed was a closet of some kind.

  Along the outside of the building?

  It made no sense to her, but she had to trust what her eyes were seeing. Besides, she’d never walked along the outside of the entire school. He returned a moment later, holding a brown bag. Not like a trash bag, but something else. He began walking in their direction, his gaze fixed solely on her.

  Debby said, “Come on, Beans.” She didn’t wait to see if he followed along. The tone of her voice should have told him that she meant business.

  One of the boys from her class ran up to her and blocked her path. His name was Peter. His red hair and freckles always made her think of a pepperoni pizza. Strange? Yes, she admitted that. What was stranger was she couldn’t look at him for long, otherwise she’d get hungry. When she tried to go around him, he held out his arms and stopped her.

  “Let me alone, Peter,” she yelled.

  He stepped to the side so that he was in front of her again. “Go back to your little black boyfriend, dweeb.”

  She threw her arms forward and pushed him back. Peter’s cheeks turned as red as the hair on his head.

  “I ought to kick your little freak butt.” Peter also rode the same bus as her. Everybody copied the red-haired boy.

  She shrieked and bulldozed her way past him. By this point, Ms. Suarez had started toward her to see what in God’s name was going on.

  “What in God’s name is going on?” Ms. Suarez said.

  “She hit me,” Peter said. A few other kids added their two cents to confirm this.

  “Go away,” Debby said to him. Then she grabbed Ms. Suarez’s hand and started to pull. “There’s a—”

  “What are you doing, Debby?” Ms. Suarez freed herself from the child’s grasp and placed her hands on her hips. Her thin eyebrows angled downward in the middle. She tilted her head to the side and leaned over a bit. “Are you okay?”

  “There’s a strange man on the side of the building, and he—”

  Ms. Suarez straightened up. Her tone went from caring to fast and serious. “What does he look like?”

  “Old.”

  “What’s he wearing?”

  “A blue suit.”

  “Like Principal Bennett wears?”

  “No, like a trash man.”

  “What color is his hair?”

  “He has none.”

  Her expression eased up and her voice relaxed. “That sounds like our new janitor.”

  “What happened to the old janitor?”

  Ms. Suarez shrugged. “He stopped showing up.”

  Debby pulled away from Ms. Suarez and looked toward Beans, the bench and the gate. The gate swung open. She screamed. The man was coming for her.

  Ms. Suarez said, “Wait here,” and she started walking toward the open gate.

  At that moment the bald headed man who had seemingly been stalking Lil’ Debby Walker throughout the day burst into the recess yard with a brown burlap sack. He pulled a rifle from the bag and aimed it in the direction of Ms. Suarez.

  “Don’t move, bitch,” he said.

  It caught the teacher off guard. She had picked her pace up to a run when the guy appeared, and now in the presence of the rifle she tried to turn around. Her feet didn’t cooperate with the rest of her body. At one point Ms. Suarez’s body was parallel to the ground and three feet in the air. She hit the ground with a thud and made a painful gasping sound.

  Debby looked from Ms. Suarez on the ground to where the man had been standing. He wasn’t there. She shifted her gaze to the left. The man reached for Beans and yanked him off of the bench. Debby tried to scream. She couldn’t. Neither could Beans. So she did the next best thin
g. She started running after the man who had Beans hanging over his shoulder.

  Chapter 13

  Sam and I sat in Huff’s office, in the little seats, while he lorded over us from his deluxe office chair. We looked at copies of the papers that were spread out in front of him. According to the documents, Roy Miller’s parents, Susan and Robert, died when their Taurus sedan clipped the rear fender of another vehicle and went over the side of a bridge. The reason they ran into another car? The brakes didn’t work. And the reason for that?

  The line was severed.

  I noted that the words “was” and “severed” were used. Not “had been” and “cut.” That’s an important distinction. There was a line crossed when the word cut was used.

  “So they both drowned,” Sam said, looking up.

  Huff nodded.

  “Any insurance?” I asked.

  “Life?” Huff asked.

  The man had come up through robbery, not homicide. I reminded myself to be patient with him. “Yeah, life.”

  “You mean like a reason why someone might have severed the brake line?”

  Sam and I stared at him and did not reply. At least Huff was on the right track.

  His face reddened. Those veins on the side of his head stuck out around his temples. “You two are looking at the same information I am. Find out for yourself.” He rose and walked to his door and kicked it open. “I’m going for some coffee.”

  “I’ll take,” the door slammed shut, “some.” I looked at Sam and laughed. “Guess not.”

  “You always giving that man a hard time. Gonna give him a coronary one of these days.”

  I shrugged. My cell phone rang. I pulled it out and looked at the display.

  “Who is it?” Sam asked.

  “Lana.”

  “Kuh-cha,” he said while snapping his wrist.

  “Shut up,” I said and then I sent the call to voicemail. “There now. Would a whipped man do that?”

  Sam laughed, then stopped abruptly. He pointed at a spot on the paper in front of him. “There it is. Seems that elder Mr. and Mrs. Miller had a twenty-five thousand dollar life insurance policy.”

  “Not all that much.” I drummed my fingers on the edge of the desk. “We should check bank records for the following two months and see if Roy made any large purchases or had any debts, legal or otherwise, to pay off.”