The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin)

by Carolyn McCray

  “That’s… well, what can I say?” Trey answered. “You’re right. I’ll give Maggie a call and let her know, but we won’t be able to open up your apartment until--”

  “It is unlocked.”

  Darc still wasn’t locking his door at night. He’d stopped when Maggie moved out, and no matter how many times the topic had come up, Darc had yet to alter his behavior. Trey felt a parental stab of worry shoot through him. Did his partner not realize that there were people out there that wanted him killed? Or tortured, dismembered, and then killed?

  Whatever. It was a conversation for another time. Trey pulled out his cell and hit Maggie’s speed dial.

  She was going to love this.

  * * *

  Janey was no sooner in her bedroom with the door shut than the argument began.

  Carly whirled on her and in a harsh but whispered voice, “What kind of shit was that?”

  Mala’s first instinct was to reprimand the girl for her language, but considering the look on Carly’s face, that might not be such a good thing right now. It was clear that she had not dealt well with the crime scene, and in retrospect, Mala should have left her and Janey both at home.

  That wouldn’t have gone over well with Janey. Getting left behind on a trip to a crime scene was about the only thing that would prompt bad behavior out of the girl.

  But the idea of a strange girl that was only linked to them through a link with Janey didn’t quite inspire the kind of confidence in Mala that it should have. It had been challenging enough to convince Carly that Darc had walked over to her apartment that morning to get a ride to the site. Mala still wasn’t positive that she had bought it.

  But for right now, there was an angry young woman in front of Mala, and she had to deal with it. She cleared her throat and pointed into the kitchen, where they could sit down and talk things over.

  Once they were seated, Carly launched back in, the momentary reprieve while they were making their way to the table over and done with. Her skin, which was the color of cream under most circumstances, had taken on an angry, splotched red hue.

  “I thought it was a shit move to take a little girl to a crime scene last night,” she whisper-yelled, “when she just about got blown up. But then you take us to that… that… Whatever the hell that was out there today?”

  “First off,” Mala answered, “that explosion happened well away from where we were.”

  The echoes of her own voice came back to her from the walls of the kitchen, even though she was doing what she could to keep her volume down. It was not the easiest thing in the world to do, as she was right now being attacked by a clueless girl just barely beyond the legal limit of adulthood.

  “Are you even listening to what you’re saying right now?” Carly shot back, uncowed. Apparently, living on her own had given her a certain amount of confidence in her own opinion. “The crazy-ass bullshit that’s spilling out of your mouth? That’s a little girl in there. Not someone that should be out in the field taking fire. Or seeing…”

  Carly choked a bit, her expression haunted. Mala couldn’t blame her for that. The site had been horrific.

  That was part of the issue here. No amount of explaining could help Carly to understand the history that had gotten Mala to this point with Janey. With Darc and Trey.

  She hadn’t experienced a little girl’s heartbroken cries as her hero with a shiny gold detective’s badge was taken away from her. The panic of realizing that Janey had run away to be with Darc, again. That her precious charge had placed herself in harm’s way for the umpteenth time while trying to get around the restrictions that Mala had put into place.

  Nor was Carly aware of the progress Janey had made since she’d been in Mala’s care. Perhaps it was time to have that discussion.

  “Carly, there are things here that you can’t unders--”

  “Don’t!” the young woman responded, steel in her tone. “Do not tell me that I’m too young to get it, or that I don’t know the situation.”

  “But--”

  “No! I’m old enough and I’ve seen enough to know that letting a little girl see dead dogs with dead men’s heads stitched to them is shitty parenting.”

  “That was…” Mala began, but then stopped.

  Perhaps Carly was right.

  Over time, Mala had grown inured to the horrors of Darc and Trey’s job. She herself had stepped into the profiling position enough to have seen far more than even most adults could handle. Maybe Janey really shouldn’t have been there.

  But another part of her rebelled, remembering all that the girl had been through. What all of them… Janey, Darc, Trey, Mala and even Maggie… had experienced together. They had become a family.

  And Carly didn’t understand that.

  “Let’s take a step back. I want to hear what you’re saying and see if I understand correctly,” Mala said with care, wanting to make sure Carly felt heard. “You think that I’ve exposed Janey to danger.”

  “Uh, no, that’s not what I think. It’s what I know.”

  Mala forced herself to stay calm. Eighteen was a difficult age. Enough world experience to feel like you knew what you were doing, brain not fully solidified enough to keep you stable. And for Carly it was even worse. She’d probably experienced more than most thirty-year-olds.

  So the disparity in Carly’s experiential education and her actual age was bound to make things more challenging. All the more reason for Mala to keep her head about her.

  “I would like for us to find a better way to speak to one another,” Mala stated. “I want to be respectful of your feelings, and I would ask that you do the same.”

  “I don’t give a shit about your feelings, Dr. Charan. I care about Janey. And right now she’s in danger.”

  “That might be overstating a bit, Carly.”

  “Is it? I’m pretty sure Janey’s social worker won’t see it that way.”

  A chill ran down Mala’s spine. This was exactly what she couldn’t afford to have happen right now.

  Carly was a teenager, and even if she had some valid points that were worth talking through, she was overreacting right now. The problem was, in the scenario they were currently in, that kind of out-of-proportion response could cause real problems for Janey’s adoption.

  The longer this conversation went on, the more of an issue it was becoming. It was time to shut the whole thing down, but it had to be in a way that didn’t alienate Carly even further.

  Mala took a deep breath. “I think we need to end this conversation right now before it escalates any more.”

  “Here’s the deal,” Carly glared at her. “I’ve spent a lot of time with shrinks like you. Talking a good game. Trying so hard to ‘respect boundaries’ and ‘create a safe space.’ If you want to try to use those head-trip strings on me, I will make a rope out of them to hang you with.” She turned and stalked off toward the guest bedroom.

  Mala chose not to mention as she was leaving the fact that currently Carly had food and shelter due only to Mala’s hospitality. Any satisfaction points gleaned from that statement would only sour and rot their relationship further.

  Fantastic. Not only did she have an angry and hostile teenager on her hands. She had an angry, hostile teenager who was averse to healthy psychological behavior. More than likely Carly had been on the receiving end of some bad therapy. There were certainly plenty of bad psychologists out in the world, waiting to spread their bad brand of ‘help.’

  Another thought struck Mala. She was supposed to go out with Darc that evening. How was she supposed to do that with Carly in the house?

  Under normal circumstances, Mala would hire a babysitter, but that didn’t seem like such a good option at the moment. A babysitter that was more than likely several years younger than Carly? It would only feed the suspicion and distrust that was already forming between them.

  She could cancel, but the truth was, Mala wanted to go out with Darc. Wanted to see if they could take their relationship to a deep
er place. To see if Darc could be a compatible companion.

  As far as Janey was concerned, Darc was perfect. And his Asperger’s was fascinating to Mala, if more than a little frustrating at times. But could they make an intimate relationship work between them? There were moments that Mala would have given an enthusiastic yes, like right after that first kiss.

  Then there were others, like her attempted second.

  One way or the other, she needed to see where this was going. Which meant figuring out what to do with Carly. She had several hours to figure it out, which was a good thing.

  It looked like she might need all of them.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Land Rover sailed down the Alaskan Way Viaduct, back toward South Park. It was a different part of South Park this time, the northern area that housed more of the kinds of warehouses they were headed toward.

  The movements of the lights in his mind both soothed Darc and urged him onward. In many ways, the manner in which the streams of logic flowed inside him mirrored pastimes that others enjoyed. Listening to music. Watching a fireworks display. Staring entranced at a lava lamp or playing a video game.

  The pathways that lit the way before him were also Darc’s constant companions. They helped him understand the ins and outs of the most complicated cases, but there was more to it than that.

  They were… friends.

  The concept of friendship was not foreign to Darc. He had studied it many times, particularly as a younger child.

  He had moved in and out of foster homes, each with a new set of foster parents who had no idea how to manage the emotionless boy that had invaded their home. Each time with a new school where Darc was initially the new student to be studied.

  Before long that study would turn to ridicule, as those around him discovered Darc’s lack of social skills. Then the ridicule would turn to torture, as Darc’s vast intellect began to make itself known.

  That would have been bad enough, if the teachers hadn’t joined in.

  And so Darc had studied, poring over book after book, attempting to make conscious sense of what was, to him, a maze of grey. A wash of monochromatic emotions surrounding him that others could easily see but that he could not.

  But now, after all of these years, he was surrounded by friends. It was not something Darc thought about often, but as the car followed the pathways of logic toward another crime scene, the grey inside whispered to him of his good fortune.

  Mala, Janey, for whom he would risk not only his career if he had to, but even upsetting the delicate balance of the web of information that existed inside his head. Trey and Maggie, who continued to care for him in spite of their relationship and the recent complication of the pregnancy.

  Darc pushed down the surge of grey that came with that thought, turning his attention instead to his partner, who was talking. That was an activity that never seemed to lose its appeal to Trey.

  “…and I know that you don’t think it’s aliens, but if you think about it--”

  “No.”

  “But, no, what I’m saying is that--”

  “No.” Darc did not alter the inflection of his voice. He had found, at times, that repetitive responses seemed to have the largest chance of shutting down the conversation.

  Indeed, it worked this time. Trey released a large puff of breath through his teeth as he turned the wheel to head down the side alley that led to the warehouse. Already the scene was overrun with CSU techs.

  As Trey parked the Land Rover in the alleyway, Darc stepped out and was immediately confronted with the new tech, Jeff Fischer. The large man rushed forward.

  “It just keeps getting weirder and weirder, guys. Dr. Hutchinson wanted me to wait for you, because it’s sort of complicated.”

  “Complicated?” Trey asked. “It’s a crime scene, not a relationship status.”

  The tech shrugged, his face devoid of expression. Was that in itself an indication of some form of emotion? Darc should ask that of his partner.

  As they entered the warehouse, they were hit by a wave of odor that was malignant enough to give even Darc pause. Under normal circumstances, bad odors were just another part of the sensory overload that was Darc’s existence. This was on another level. It was aggressive.

  Darc’s eyes took a moment to adjust. Techs had brought in some light to illuminate the area, but had kept them relatively low. Once he could make out what was present inside the building, Darc could see why.

  “Oh, man…” Trey muttered at Darc’s side, sounding like he was attempting to contain his gag reflex. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  On the floor before them, offal was scattered everywhere. Organs of various sizes and shapes littered the floor, and techs were making their way through the labyrinth of bloody refuse with extreme caution, trying not to further contaminate the scene.

  Hung from the rafters were grotesque forms. Large and bloated human corpses, but something was off about them. The outline was not typical for human beings, and the streams of logic began to trace the forms they found, searching for patterns.

  It was not long before they were found.

  “Pigs,” Jeff the tech said in answer to their silence. “The killer sewed pig hooves to their hands and feet.”

  The corpses were arranged in a pattern that resembled what had been found at the other sites, but rendered in three dimensions. Wires had been stretched between the bodies, linking them to one another, forming concentric circles, with the modified triangle in the center.

  There, on the ceiling far above them, were painted symbols, the blood dripping down from each, partially obscuring their meanings from most. But not from Darc.

  The colors flowed around the ciphers, lifting up data and assimilating it, reforming it, processing the information. And there, in the gleaming blackness, the words appeared as a shape, a form built of light and logic. But what that form revealed was not as finely crafted. Logic had taken flight before madness.

  Complacency before the slaughter.

  * * *

  The answer had come to Mala in a flash of insight while Carly and Janey were playing Clue on the coffee table in the living room. There hadn’t seemed to be a solution to the dilemma of what to do with Carly during Mala’s date, but there was a chance that the answer was to do nothing.

  Nothing with Carly, at least.

  The teenager had calmed down after a while, even going so far as to give Mala a small nod of acknowledgment. Very small. More like a twitch, actually.

  It wasn’t clear if that gesture had been intended as an apology. It seemed more likely that it was an understanding that lunch was coming up soon. Carly was a smart girl, and she had to know that Mala would be more inclined to feed her if she wasn’t being hostile in the moment.

  The workings of the troubled teenage mind were exhausting to figure out, Mala was finding. It wasn’t like Carly was the first teenager Mala had ever encountered, but the clients Mala had worked with had mostly been much younger. Counseling troubled teens had never been a passion of hers.

  And now she was feeling her lack of experience in the area.

  Regardless, Mala had an idea of what she might do to alleviate the awkwardness of the situation this evening. If she could get Trey and Maggie to invite Janey over, it might soothe over any hurt feelings Carly would have about Mala hiring a babysitter over leaving Janey with her older sister.

  Now all that remained was giving the couple a call. It wasn’t a perfect solution. The last minute request was sure to be an imposition. But it would take Darc out of his apartment, and if Trey and Maggie were already over at Darc’s, it might be a good thing.

  As Mala pulled out her cell phone to call, it vibrated in her hand, surprising her for a moment. The number was unfamiliar to Mala, but it was a local Seattle prefix, so she went ahead and answered. She never knew when a call might be something involving the latest case she was consulting on.

  “Dr. Mala Charan.”

  “Mala, It’s Cat,” came the voic
e over the line. The cheerful, almost bulldog manner of Jessalyn’s mom was present in her bright tone. “You know, from the Family Fun Center?”

  “Oh, Cat, yes,” Mala answered, surprised but glad to hear from the woman. “How are you?”

  “Good. Fantastic, actually. Just finished a workout, so I’ve got all kinds of endorphins swimming around in my blood.” She chuckled, a deep throaty sound.

  “Crossfit, right?” Mala remembered that being the woman’s post-divorce drug of choice.

  “Good memory,” she said with enthusiasm. “Listen… reason I called… Jessalyn has been bugging me nonstop since last night about getting together with Janey.”

  Mala felt a surge of something with which she didn’t have a whole lot of experience. This little girl had enjoyed Janey’s company so much that she was pushing her mom to do something about it. It didn’t make any sense, but Mala felt a swell of pride expand her chest.

  “That’s so sweet,” Mala replied. “I know that Janey had a great time with Jessalyn. She was grinning from ear to ear on the way back home.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad to hear it. So, I know this might be too much too soon, but how would you feel about them having a sleepover here at my place?”

  Mala assessed for a moment. Here was an even more perfect solution to her dilemma this evening. Having Trey and Maggie take Janey was a good idea, but it could still come across as a way to sidestep Carly.

  But how could she object to Janey going to a sleepover with a friend?

  On the other hand, Mala didn’t know Cat all that well. She seemed like a great person, and Jessalyn had been a wonderful friend to Janey at the amusement center, in spite of the fact that Janey didn’t speak…

  “Janey,” Mala called out to her daughter. “Can you come here for a second?”

  The little girl padded into the room, her ragged bear tucked under one arm. Lifting her head up, she gave Mala an inquisitive look.

  “You remember Jessalyn from the Fun Center?” Janey nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. “Would you like to go over to her house tonight?”