The Darkness Inside Us (A Detective King Suspense Thriller) (A Detective King Novel Book 3)

by Laszlo,Jeremy

  “Okay,” Kelly answers, and I feel a skip in my heartbeat. I feel a smile spreading across my lips and then a new sort of horror sinks into my mind. I have to phrase everything that I’m going to tell her in a way that’s perfectly normal and as comprehensive and believable as possible. I need her to understand exactly what I’m saying and get it to sink in. I need her to believe me just long enough to catch this asshole creature in some sort of trap. I’m not sure how, but it’s going to end just how it started, in bloodshed.

  “I’ve found out how the killer is tracking his victims,” I tell her calmly, trying to string this together as I go along. I feel like I’m one step from oblivion and as I take a moment I can almost hear the silent breaths wafting through the signals hitting my cellphone. “For a long time now, we’ve been wondering how the killer tracks two people at once, the immediate victim and the preceding victim. Some thought that there were multiple killers, but the degree of maneuverability that would require is too great. No one was really sticking with the multiple killers because in the end, no one knew how the killer got out of the crime scenes so quickly. He would have to be a Houdini-esque escape artist. No one was buying it for long. So we started thinking that it might be a poison of some kind, a neurotoxin that the killer is passing on from victim to victim based on the last person they meet. But, none of the tox screens were coming back with any kind of confirmation on that. So we were left at a dead end. All the while, the killer was getting bolder and bolder.”

  “So you now know how he’s killing them?” Kelly asks, thankfully reminding me that she’s actually interested in what I have to say. Bless her heart, but the hard part is coming. I take a moment to gather myself before I speak.

  “Sort of,” I answer. “The night your mother died, the last person she came in contact with was David Marcus, her fiancé. Did you know him?”

  “A little,” she answers. “Mom and I weren’t on the best of terms there at the end. I didn’t think that David was the kind of guy that she should be marrying. I accused her of gold digging.”

  “Well,” I said, glad that I wasn’t the only person who thought that, “when you were going to meet your mother and I intercepted you with the call, I went there hoping to catch you and tell you in person. After we talked on the phone, I decided to go in and get something to eat since I hadn’t eaten in forever and it was a place with good memories for me.”

  “Okay,” she says, and I realize I’m starting to lose her.

  “Well, David Marcus was there, waiting for you,” I tell her and the silence on the other end of the phone is pregnant with silent contemplation and unspoken questions. I can feel it strangling me, but I have to keep talking. “He’d come there because he knew that you and your mother were going to meet there, even though he was well aware of your mother’s death at that point. When I walked in through the front door, he rose and confronted me, even though the two of us had never officially met. I brushed it off like he’d maybe seen a picture of me, but it felt odd. Finally, he swore to me that he was going to get you, Kelly, even though he’d missed you this time. Then he ended his life. Killed himself right there.”

  The silence is poisonous and I want to hear her say something. Finally, after moments of silence, I can hear her exhale. “That doesn’t make any sense, Steven,” she says in a very empirical voice. “Why would he swear to get me and then kill himself? If you’re trying to pin this on David, then it doesn’t make any sense. Why would he kill Mom or any of the other victims? Why would he be a serial killer?”

  “He wasn’t,” I tell her.

  “Then what are you saying?” Kelly presses.

  “I grabbed the security footage and headed to the tech lab at the precinct,” I tell her, continuing on with the story so she can catch up with me. “I had one of the best technicians analyze it and when we did, we discovered something that sounds absolutely impossible and completely insane, but I assure you that it’s the God’s honest truth. I need you to trust me on this, Kelly. I can show you the footage if you need it, but you have to trust me.”

  “Steven, what is it?” she presses, the suspense, no doubt, killing her.

  “We saw something transition from David’s body to the next victim’s body,” I tell her. I don’t wait for the impending silence and keep pushing. “The last person that David touched was found the following day dead as well, and the last person he in turn touched was one of the students at your school. But that night, at the bar, they had a high enough quality of security systems that we were able to slow things down and clean them up, and what we saw was some kind of shadowy entity passing from David to the next victim. When we started researching it, we came up with the fact that it’s some sort of demonic entity. I know it sounds insane, and I swear to you that I’m as much as a doubter as anyone, but this is enough to make me believe. The killer is a demonic force, possessing people in order to get to you and when it gets a little closer or finds someone who is a little closer to you, then it discards their bodies and they end up killing themselves. It defies everything I know and believe, but when I saw the footage, I knew instantly what we were dealing with was supernatural. I need you to believe me on this, Kelly. You have to know that this thing is getting closer and it wants to harm you.”

  There’s another long period of silence and I wait patiently, praying to whatever god there is that she’ll believe me, that she’ll understand what I’m saying. I don’t know if I should say anything more or if I should try to explain why she needs to believe me, but I don’t think it’s going over well. If she doesn’t believe me, she might just give up hiding and go back to her home where the demon will gladly kill her. It’ll get to her easier that way and I’m not about to let the thing keep going for her. I’m not a good father, but I’m not giving up my daughter either.

  “Miss Beasly was a good woman,” Kelly tells me. “Alice Walker was a bitchy prima donna, but she wasn’t a suicide case, she loved herself too much. Miss Beasly would never kill herself either. They said that Mom killed herself too, but Mom was about to get everything that she thought she wanted in her life. It didn’t make sense to me that she killed herself either. When they told me David killed himself, I suspected that it was just because Mom had killed herself. Honestly, none of this makes sense, Steven. But I’m not a skeptic like you are. I’m not a cynic. I’ve been a romantic for the majority of my life, just sick of my reality. I do believe that these sort of things are possible, always have. I never discredited what I couldn’t see. If you say that this is what you and the others believe, then I’m willing to believe also. But where does that leave me? If I can’t trust another person who comes up to me and wants to hug me or shake my hand, then I’m not much use to the world.”

  “I know,” I tell her honestly, so grateful that she is who she is. I’m glad that I wasn’t there to corrupt her, to quell her spirit and dampen her ideals. I’ve always been too vocal about my disliking of others and their beliefs. I’m glad that she was able to grow up without that in her life. Sometimes, people are better off without their parents. “I think this thing is going to try and lure you out. I need to know if you know a woman named Susan Larsen, she was a teacher at Parker High with you.”

  “Was? Jesus, Steven, how many more people that I know are going to die?” I can almost hear the hatred and fury in her voice and feel pity for her. I know exactly how she feels. It’s a dark and unwelcoming reality. I look at her dead friend and wonder how many more do have to die before this thing finally gets to my daughter. When everyone she knows is dead, will the creature give up because it exhausted all of its resources in getting to her? I don’t know. I don’t want to find out. “I knew her, Steven. She was new at the school, but we were starting to become really close friends.”

  “Well, she died at the district offices,” I tell her, suddenly wondering when the FBI are going to get here. They’ll be furious if they see me at the scene. Besides, I need to act. I need to start setting the trap for this demon. “I know
that the demon is now in one of the staff members for the school, probably someone you’re close with.”

  Again, the silence is enough to make me want to scream, but it gives me time to start the engine and look down the ramp, out of the garage. I don’t want Agent Halbert or the demon knowing what my next move is. Mostly, I don’t want Agent Halbert here to see me when he arrives. I’ll get the ass-chewing of a lifetime and I don’t have the patience for one of those today. If my luck still holds, I can get out of here before he pins a bull’s eye on my back. No doubt, he’s already looking into me. All he’s going to find is a bunch of whoring and a bunch of nothing. As I back, out, I can hear Kelly exhale again on the other end of the line.

  “Debra Connelly called me,” she says to me finally. “I didn’t answer the phone and let it go straight to voicemail. She said that she missed me at the meeting and told me everything that was discussed, how the school is going to handle the tragedy. She sounded completely normal, but I suppose she would, wouldn’t she? I don’t think it would be like the exorcist really.”

  “David sounded the same as he did on the phone when I talked to him,” I tell her. “Did you make any plans with her?”

  “Debra doesn’t really do things like a normal person,” I tell him. “She makes the plans and then sort of guilts you into coming through her invitation. And that’s exactly what she did. They want to have dinner at Goliath’s tonight and she told me that there’s a whole group from the English department going to be there. She listed off everyone who was going and Susan was one of them. I think that’s when it’s going to happen, Steven. If they want to draw me out, that would be when. I mean, she obviously talked to Susan today.”

  She’s right. “You’re not going to that, obviously,” I tell her. I feel something inside of me, a spark of hope that’s starting to roar into a fire of confidence. This might actually be the chance we need to get this thing. It’s shown its hand too early and I’m going in for the kill. I think back to the other times that I’ve been this close to the demon and it’s slipped past me. I’m not willing to let that happen again. I’m not going to let it go. I’m going to catch the bastard this time and I’m going to end its reign of terror. “I’m going to make sure that I catch this thing, Kelly. This is the best chance we’ve got,” I tell her honestly.

  “I hope you get it, Steven,” she says to me.

  “I will,” I promise her, but I know that this thing is slippery and I’ve been down this road before. I don’t want to fail like I did last time. I don’t want to let it get away and get one step closer to Kelly. It’s going down this time and there’s nothing it can do to stop me. It’s not going to escape me. “I’ll talk to you soon, Kelly.”

  “Be careful, Steven,” she warns me.

  I feel a flutter of happiness in my heart. She cares at least a little about me. “I will,” I tell her before hanging up. As I drive away, I try to remember where Goliath is. It has to be close to this general part of the city. Why else would they plan it here? I quickly call dispatch, transferring myself to Penny’s extension. Thankfully, she answers after the first ring like the professional that she is. “Penny, it’s King,” I tell her.

  “Hey, did you talk to Owens? He’s going crazy about this whole thing,” she says to me.

  “I did,” I tell her. “He’ll get over it, I’m sure. But right now, I need the phone number to a restaurant called Goliath and it should be in the general area of Parker High School. Can you find that for me?”

  “Sure thing,” she answers and I’m immediately put on hold, listening to soft violins playing as I make my way back toward Parker High, hoping that it’s near there. “Hey, Steven, I’ve got that number here for you.” She tells me the number and I write it down on my wrist while trying to drive and talk on the cellphone successfully. I’m not the best example of an officer of the law, but sadly I’m probably better than most. I’m on to something big. This is my chance. This is my one chance to do what’s right, to stop this thing once and for all, to break the cycle. “Thanks for everything, Penny,” I say to her with an excited tone. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Good luck, Steven,” she says to me before ending the call.

  Immediately, I dial the number to Goliath and wait until someone finally picks up the phone with a bored and annoyed sounding voice that makes me want to hang up after apologizing for waking them up from hibernation. “My name is Detective Steven King, I need to speak with the manager of your restaurant, it’s vitally important.”

  “Is this some kind of prank?” the woman asks me. “You got the name just like the writer, Stephen King?”

  “Manager, ma’am,” I remind her. “I need to talk to your manager right away.”

  “Alright, hang on,” the woman says before putting me on hold where I’m left to listen to Elvis.

  It’s a moment before a man answers the phone and states that his name is Art Derby and that he’s the manager of Goliath. “My name is Detective Steven King,” I inform him just like I informed the woman. “I would be interested in knowing if you’d be willing to help with an investigation to catch a murderer who has made reservations with your restaurant today.”

  “Certainly,” the man says after a moment, a worried and terrified tone takes over his original, professional tone and I’m glad to hear it. People who are scared are more willing to do what’s right when dealing with the police. He won’t lock up and demand that a lawyer speak with him first. “We don’t take reservations, but I’ll happily help the police with anything they need.”

  “This evening, a group will be dining in your restaurant,” I inform him. “They’ll be under the name Debra Connelly and they’ll be having somewhere around six people in their party. I need them to be seated in an isolated area and the rest of your guests need to be seated close to exits so that they can be evacuated at a moment’s notice. The suspect we’re hoping to capture will not be armed, but we don’t want to cause a scene that might damage your establishment’s reputation.”

  “Certainly,” the man answers again. “We’ll gladly help.”

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” I tell the manager. “There will be a representative from the police department contacting you with further information. We’ll speak again soon. Once more, my name is Detective Steven King if you need it.”

  I hang up on the manager before he can say anything else and I toss my phone into the passenger seat, grinning like a wolf over a kill. I’m going to catch this bastard. I’m going to catch him and I’m going to end this once and for all.

  XVI

  I knock on his door and I can’t help but feel like I’m a student who is standing in front of the principal’s office, waiting to be told that he’s been kicked out for bad behavior. He looks up from his desk, his dark eyes looking at me with the perfect veneer to hide whatever it is that he’s thinking. I feel like I should have brought him a bottle of something to help smooth things over, but there was no time for that. The clock is ticking and we need to start mobilizing if I’m going to get anything done besides opening fire on a bunch of teachers at a restaurant.

  “King,” Mendez says with a gruff tone in his voice. Clearly, he’s not surprised to see me, but he’s not happy about it either. It’s almost like he’s been sitting around, expecting me to rear my head eventually to talk about what’s transpired so far with this botched investigation. “Come on in, I was just thinking about you.”

  “Thank you, Chief,” I say to him, dropping down on one of his hard, awkward leather chairs across from where he’s seated at his desk. His office has always been dark, something about the gloom makes him more productive. I look at him and know he’s going to be happy to see me go and today probably won’t change his opinion for the better.

  “I was hoping you’d come in here of your own free will,” he says to me after clearing his throat and pushing his paperwork aside. “I didn’t want to have to call you in or drag you in here kicking and screaming. It’s good to see you�
�re not like some of these others out there. You’re old school and I respect that about you—always have.”

  “I’m glad,” I tell him. “I know that I should have called you about the Parker High incident, but there wasn’t time, Chief. I needed to act and I needed to get to Alice Walker before anything could happen to her. Unfortunately, she spooked and ended up killing herself before I could restrain her.”

  “You’re damn right you should have called me,” Mendez half-growls across the desk at me, clearly waiting to let that out for a while now. “Alice Walker’s parents are pushing to have charges placed against you for maliciously inciting a suicide. I don’t know what that means and the lawyers assure me that it’s bogus crap that won’t stick, but all together, a lawsuit is not something this department needs right now, not of the magnitude that this case is. But I want to know why the hell you didn’t think there was time to call me. I could have called the principal, the fucking school board, hell, I could have even gotten the mayor on board with this in the time it took for you to go Rambo on that school. I could have sent backup, instead I got a call from some uniform, telling me that I have a detective being held by the FBI as a suspect in all of this.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “Honestly, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to fall through like that.”

  “But more importantly,” Mendez clears his throat. “The FBI are now watching you. They’re building a whole case around how Detective King is the wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing. Again, that shit isn’t going to stand up on its own, but if they’re looking at you, then that means they’re not looking elsewhere for this killer. Now, I’ve got our best out there, chasing leads, tossing up facts to the FBI to try and get them off of you, but they’re not buying it. They think that you’re some kind of ringleader or informant to the real killers, even though they have a whole school full of eyewitnesses that say otherwise. So now I have internal affairs breathing down my neck asking a whole bunch of questions about what I know about your activities and whereabouts. You know they had a crew in here last night going through your computer and desk? Thankfully you’re so damn scared of technology that they didn’t find a goddamn thing, but I don’t need any of this. You hear me? You were supposed to mop up paperwork and get out of here and into retirement without a single chirp.”