by H. P. Bayne
The Sullivan Gray Series
Books 5 - 7
H.P. Bayne
Copyright © 2020 by H.P. Bayne
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Hollow Road
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Second Son
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Spirit Caller
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Hollow Road
1
Clouds obscured the moon in the October sky, casting Sullivan Gray deeper in shadow.
His childhood home stood before him, several of its windows lit like welcoming beacons in the dark.
But his homecoming would have to wait. Lowell Braddock was inside. Because of his uncle, Sully had been living like a dead man for two years He hadn’t intended to return until he’d taken Lowell out of the picture. Instead, ghosts had gotten in the way, and over the past month and a half, he’d found shelter with another current occupant of the house. His brother Dez Braddock, who had given him his life back.
As a means to repay him, Sully had agreed to talk to their mom.
Now here he was, crouched in the dark with his dog Pax. The spirits of his foster father and brother hovered nearby as he waited for the man who’d killed them—who’d tried to kill Sully—to leave the house.
He didn't check the time, but it seemed like forever before the sound of an engine reached his ears. Moments later, the glow of headlights illuminated the night as a car drove away from the house, toward the grid.
It had to be Lowell but Sully waited anyway. Fear had made him a wait-and-see guy, had turned him into somebody who watched and listened for signs, dangers and opportunities.
Dez knew it, and he sent the sign Sully was waiting for. The text message came through with a ping: He’s gone. Give me a minute to tell Mom about you. I’ll let you know when you can come in.
He rubbed his neck. One more person learning his secret. He’d delayed reunion with the woman who’d raised him by convincing himself he’d wanted to minimize the number of people who knew of his existence. To keep them—and himself—safe. But really, it was about trust and anger. Mara Braddock had been one of two people—the other being Lowell—who had signed the paper committing Sully to Lockwood Psychiatric Institution.
While Sully had forgiven his mother, he wasn't sure he could ever forget.
He expected a long wait. What he got was about two minutes.
His phone dinged again. She wants to see you. Now.
Sully heaved a breath. He hadn't thought through what to say. He figured much of what was about to be said would come from her. He'd never been much of a conversation-starter, and she knew it.
As he drew nearer, a figure moved in front of the kitchen window overlooking the backyard. Dez and Mara were in there, and Mara’s eyes were fixed on the world outside. From within the lit room, she'd never be able to see into the darkness, but she was trying anyway. The expression on her face—wide eyes, lips pressed tightly together, lines showing between her brows—was read best as torturous anticipation with a side of shock.
Sully knew he wouldn't be going anywhere else tonight. No way she’d let either of them out of her sight until she was convinced what she was about to see was true.
Sully took one last glance behind him, hoping for an encouraging nod from his dad. But he, along with Aiden, were gone.
The back door was unlocked, and Sully passed through into the mudroom and, from there, into the kitchen. Her eyes fixed upon him, but she didn't move or speak for an uncomfortably long time.
“Take your hood off, bro,” Dez said, voice near a whisper, as if afraid he’d shatter the woman standing between the brothers if he spoke any louder.
Sully had forgotten about the hood. It had become such a standard piece of his wardrobe, he felt naked and exposed without it.
He obeyed his brother, pulling the hood down and tucking strands of long hair behind his ears.
Only then did he get the reaction he’d expected: a gasp. Then the tears started, huge racking sobs that had Sully crossing the room and pulling his adopted mom into an embrace.
He ducked his head so it rested against hers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She tried to speak, but her words couldn’t be distinguished within the choke of emotion. What she couldn't say aloud, her body said for her. Her arms were like a vice around Sully’s middle, hands drawing him in hard enough to leave bruises.
Any anger Sully had felt coming in here evaporated like water in a desert.
It came as no great surprise, upon looking up, to find Dez crying too. The guy was a water faucet, turning on and off at a moment’s notice. Sully offered him a smile, one he found returned. This was okay. It really was.
Better than okay. It felt right.
At last, Mara pulled away, far enough to meet Sully’s eyes and study his face and body. Her mouth opened, but her lower lip quivered, and she held up a finger, before moving off to grab the tissue box atop the fridge. Two solid nose-blows later, she managed her first coherent word.
“Why?”
A one-word question wit
h a long, complicated answer Sully was unable to provide in full. As with Dez, generalities would have to be enough.
“I was scared. After Lockwood, I needed to get away. And I had to make sure no one could ever make me go back there or hurt the people I love to get to me. The only real escape was making the world believe I was dead.”
She opened her mouth as if to answer, but closed it almost immediately. Sully watched the thoughts play out across her face, thought he could sense the moment she came up with the answer on her own.
“I guess I can understand why you didn't trust me. I can't blame you. If I were in your shoes, I’d feel exactly the same. You need to understand, leaving you there almost killed me. Visiting you, seeing what was happening to you, it shattered my soul. I've never gotten over it, Sully. And I’ve never tried to. As far as I'm concerned, I deserve that for what I helped put you through. So it makes total sense for you to feel you had to hide from me. The people you were supposed to be able to trust the most betrayed you in the worst way.”
“You didn’t know. You were trying to help me. I understand.”
“But we didn’t. We allowed you to be in a place where you were hurt, where you were traumatized. I know what those men did to you. Dez told me after you… left us. I’ve never said this, but I seriously questioned whether I could live, knowing what I’d done. For a time back then, the only thing keeping me from following through was knowing what I would be putting my other son through. Dez has seen far too much loss in his life. I couldn’t be one more loss for him. I couldn’t turn him into the last living member of the family he grew up with. Anyway, I considered it penance, having to live with this on my conscience.”
“I forgave you,” Sully said. “You, Dez, Eva, Ara, you guys were the only reason I stayed sane. You kept me alive in there. You need to know that.”
Mara tossed out the tissue she’d been clutching, then returned to Sully and drew him back into her arms. “You’ve always been far too forgiving, kid.”
He hugged her back. “Not about everything.”
The three of them stayed up talking long into the night, until Dez nodded off on the sofa.
As expected, Mara insisted they stay over—a request Sully was happy to oblige. He slept in his old bedroom, Pax snoring softly next to him on the floor.
Morning came quickly, light streaming through his window, revealing a room Mara hadn’t touched since Sully had last left it. It also revealed Dez, sitting on the end of the bed, tapping away at a game on his phone.
“How long you been sitting there?” Sully asked.
Dez looked up and grinned. “Either my ninja skills are improving, or you were really tired. I don’t usually manage to sneak up on you.”
Sully smiled back. “I was really tired. Sorry. A guy your size is never going to be ninja material.”
Dez returned his gaze to his phone, suggesting whatever conversation was coming was going to be about something other than the weather.
“Thank you,” he said. “For doing this, I mean. It means a lot to Mom. And to me. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
“I needed it too.” Sully scanned the bedspread as he formed thought into words. “I thought I was angry at her. But seeing her, seeing what she’d gone through because of all this, it wiped all of that out.”
Sully looked up to find Dez’s eyes on him and a question on his lips. “What about Lowell?”
Sully dragged himself to sitting, propping his back against the headboard, maintaining focus on his brother’s face. “What about him?”
“Think you might be able to forgive him eventually?”
“That’s different.”
“Why? I mean, he’s not immediate family or anything, but he was a big part of us growing up. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never stopped being pissed at him over the whole Lockwood thing. But I’m tired of being angry, Sull. Aren’t you?”
“It’s not just anger.”
“Fear? He’s not going to send you back. I won’t let him. Hell, you won’t let him.”
“Newsflash: You didn’t let him the last time. He still did it. Like I told Mom last night, no one—not even anyone else in our family—can know I’m still alive. No one. You can’t tell him, Dez.”
“I know. I wasn’t going to. If anyone’s going to tell him, it will be you, okay? But, Jesus, man, you’re going to have to deal with this eventually. You know you can’t live like this forever.”
That was a fact. But what he didn’t know—couldn’t know—was Sully had every intention of ensuring this didn’t continue forever.
Lowell would face justice for his crimes. He would to find a way to make it happen.
2
“Have I got a job for you.” Lachlan Fields’s voice filling the earpiece made for an internal groan for Dez.
Seven words. Seven too many for Dez when it came to listening to his boss. The man sounded cheerful; as the characteristic wasn’t often found on Lachlan’s emotional spectrum, he would likely follow the words with a heavy dose of sarcasm or really bad news.
Dez held the phone in his hand, but didn’t say anything. He’d wait this out. Anything else was unlikely to end well.
“Braddock?”
“I’m here. What?”
“Mite testy, are we?”
Dez drew in a long breath and released it slowly. It wouldn’t do to blow at Lachlan. First off, the man signed his pay checks and had given him his first job after well over a year of unemployment. Second, it wasn’t a fight Dez was likely to win; nobody who battled wits with Lachlan came out whole again. “I’m fine. What’s going on?”
“You don’t mind ghosts, right?”
Dez hated ghosts. He hated the fact they existed. He hated the fact he couldn’t see them, and he’d hate it if he could see them. He hated that Sully had to see them. Most of all, he hated knowing another world overlapped his own, one which he had no control over.
Yes, Dez minded ghosts very much. And Lachlan knew it.
“You’re not about to send me on some case with a ghost, are you?”
“Not specifically, no.”
Dez bit back the response he really wanted to give. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know Hollow Road?”
“You mean the haunted one north of the city that used to go to Loons Hollow?”
“Still does. There’s just not much left of Loons Hollow to get to.”
“I know that. What are you getting at?”
“Nothing. Christ, Braddock. Kind of bitchy today, huh?”
“Why are you in such a good mood?”
“I went to see my doctor, and he said my concussion’s healed enough that I can return to some light work. That means you, your brother and I get to work a job together.”
The words “get to” made it sound like an opportunity rather than an impending nightmare. No doubt Lachlan was screwing with him.
Even so, Dez had plenty to be grateful for where his boss was concerned. But for Lachlan’s information pointing him in the right direction, Dez might never have saved Sully from the Dules.
“Glad to hear you’re on the mend,” Dez said.
“No, you’re not.”
“Just tell me about the job.”
Lachlan’s laugh contained its usual sarcastic glee. “Missing persons file. Bank employee disappeared almost thirty years ago. A massive search was done, but only his car was ever found—parked on the road leading to Loons Hollow. You’re too young to remember, but the case made the news for a good long while. Lonnie Debenham was his name. He left his wife and kids at home one day, got in his car and drove right off the radar. Never found him. Plenty of chatter about the case came from both in and out of the Kimotan Rapids Police Department back then. Some people thought he might have been kidnapped as a means to get his rich father to pay a hefty ransom. Some believed he ran off with another woman. Some suggested he killed himself. And some said—you’re gonna love this part—he became one of Florence’s victims.”
<
br /> “Florence? You mean Faceless Flo?”
“The very same.”
Dez snorted, his best attempt at pretending Lachlan hadn’t just succeeded in creeping him out. “Come on. That legend is just a bunch of crap.”
“Hey, you’re the one with a brother who sees the dead. I think we should take him out there, see if he can find Lonnie. If we can’t, maybe we find her instead.”
“Look, before you go too far down the path of trying to scare the bejeezus out of me, could we talk about the actual missing person case? You mentioned some other possibilities there.”
“I did,” Lachlan said. “But no one ever came forward demanding ransom.”
“Maybe they ended up killing him before they could make the demand.”
“In my experience, kidnappers don’t concern themselves with the state of their victim when they’re making ransom demands. I’ve heard of cases where families have paid up and only later discovered their loved one had been killed pretty much right off the hop. Kidnapping is not honest men’s work, and it’s dangerous work besides.”
