The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin)
Page 34
“You can feel it, can’t you?” Mala whispered. “That this is your home, and always will be?”
Carly nodded, the tears spilling over once more. Mala brought her in to a full embrace, and the young woman sobbed against her shoulder.
They sat there for quite a while, Mala holding her while Carly cried out her grief and pain. Then, after an extended time in which it felt like the world suspended itself, Carly stirred and moved away from Mala’s embrace.
“You know, I’m still going to want to go out,” she said with a half-smile.
Mala nodded. “I want you to. I’m not here to keep you from having a social life. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
Her eyes widened once more at that. “It’s been a while since anyone cared enough to ask me where I was going to be. It might take me a while to get used to it.”
“How about, in the meantime, you tell me where you’re going, and then plan on coming home by midnight,” Mala suggested, then held up a hand before Carly could react. “If you’re doing something that makes you want to stay out later, just give me a call. That way I know you’re all right and I know where you are.”
The young woman’s eyes had started to return to their hard state once more at the mention of a curfew, but as soon as she started to stiffen back up again, Carly took a breath. Then another.
“That’s going to be hard for me,” she confessed, “but okay. I’ll do it.” She spread her hands out to her sides. “And just to show that I mean it, I’m planning on going to Neumos tonight. DJ Deadmau5 is going to be there.”
Rather than show Carly that she had no clue what Neumos was, or Deadmau5 for that matter, Mala just nodded. “Midnight, okay? Or call?”
Carly sighed and nodded. “Fine.”
Now, rather than head out the door to Cat’s house, Mala needed to get on the Internet. It seemed she had some research to do on a certain nightclub.
This was all one hell of an introduction to parenting a teenager.
* * *
Darc walked through the hallway in the precinct building with Trey at his side. As he moved, the threads of light moved alongside, the silver links far more predominant than they had been before. It was as if the links were procreating, multiplying at an exponential rate.
Trey spoke, his voice received and logged in through the regular conduit of the threads of light. The information he conveyed was analyzed, processed and regurgitated as useful data in a process that had run smoothly as long as Darc could remember.
“I went through missing persons and a name popped up,” Trey said.” Deborah Singh. I pulled her financials, and it looks like the last charge was three nights ago at a club downtown called Neumos.”
The difference in Darc’s process now revolved around the additional stream of data. The one processed by the silver links.
Trey trotted along beside him, apparently attempting to keep up with Darc’s longer stride. The silver links flashed, exporting data. Darc followed the suggestion made to slow down by 17%. Within moments, Trey was able to slow down to a normal walking pace, both feet no longer leaving the ground at once.
“Hey, thanks…” he said, then almost fell down. Interesting. Was it possible that the links had been mistaken? “Whoa,” Trey muttered as he recovered from his stumble.
They passed by a woman. The threads of color identified her as Marilyn Jacobs, one of the people who worked down in accounting.
But the silver gave him additional data. Data that he could not confirm through any rational means. She walked with her head down and her brow furrowed.
“You are preoccupied. Worried. Stressed out,” Darc found himself stating out loud. Why had he done that?
The woman glanced up at him, her face registering a change in emotion.
“Shock! Surprise!” Darc called out.
The woman scurried off, darting her gaze back at him over her shoulder as she went. Another individual came around the corner, whistling.
“You are happy! You are enjoying the day!” Darc could not seem to stop himself.
“Why yes I am,” the man responded with good cheer. “I just won fifty bucks on a scratcher and my ex’s new boyfriend dumped her ass.”
Two more people in the hall.
“Hungry! Bored!”
They stared at him, their faces blank, eyes blinking in sync with one another. The pathways of color calculated the odds of that happening while the emotional epiphanies continued on the surface.
Trey placed a hand on Darc’s chest. “Dude. What is going on, man? You’re freaking me out.”
“I do not know. I seem to be having insights into other people’s emotional states.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Trey acknowledged. “But could you maybe… I don’t know… keep those insights to yourself like a normal person?” Trey shook his head. “This is… wow. I don’t even know.”
“Overwhelmed!” Darc exclaimed, pointing at his partner. The silver links inside pulsed with satisfaction.
“Seriously. Stop it.” Trey’s face appeared to be turning white. “Could you maybe just go back to being you for a second?”
The situation made no sense to Darc. For as long as Trey had been his partner, the man had done everything he could to help Darc understand social cues and interpret the nuances of human interaction. And yet now, as Darc seemed to understand those very signals in an unprecedented way, Trey appeared troubled. Almost as much as when they’d found the body of that young woman.
Again, there was a flash and a pulse of pure silver light, which spoke to Darc of Trey’s insecurities. It was possible that his partner experienced feelings of uselessness. If Darc could process emotions and became a more integrated human in terms of social interaction, what would his role be?
The urge to talk to his partner about this surged within him, in and of itself an oddity. But another throb of light urged his silence. Trey needed to work this out for himself, without his partner’s interference.
Unfortunate, as Darc possessed clear data that suggested that Trey’s involvement remained vital. Their partnership, although odd by most standards, worked.
Perhaps Darc could find another way to demonstrate Trey’s usefulness. But first, an apology seemed needed.
“I am sorry, Trey.”
“No problem, ma…” Trey stopped all of a sudden, staring at his partner. “Dude! That’s just what I’m talking about. Knock it off!”
“I am sorry.”
“No! That! Stop saying you’re sorry!” Trey ran his fingers through his hair and growled. “Never mind. This is a good thing, right? Right. Good thing.” He muttered to himself for a moment longer, his eyes darting up to meet Darc’s and then away.
A lack of eye contact had not been much of an issue for Darc’s partner before. Could it be that Darc had somehow infected him with his own behavior?
The symphony of colored pathways within his mind tangled up in response. The logic spoke in no uncertain terms. Trey’s response had nothing to do with Darc. And while that seemed counterintuitive to him, Darc had to acknowledge that it paired well with the emotional data he received from the shining links.
Perhaps a neutral topic? One that did not deal with the now fraught emotional landscape and Trey’s place within it?
“You mentioned Deborah Singh,” Darc said, the bands of light within providing the name with ease. “Would you like to go to the home of her family, or question the bartenders at the club?”
Trey looked at him sideways, his expression filled with what would have been something undecipherable to Darc. But now, in a flash of white light, he saw that it clearly spoke of suspicion.
Darc’s behavior remained atypical. Even now, his question to distract Trey had been unlike his normal interactions with his partner.
This appeared to be a problem with no solution, but a whispering from within suggested a strange approach. Rather than continue in this same vein, a pretense could alleviate some of Trey’s feelings of discomfort.
; Darc needed to act like Darc.
“The chances of gleaning useful information is 62% more likely if we speak to family members,” he stated, making sure that his affect remained flat.
Then he turned around and began walking to Trey’s car as fast as he could. But as he walked, Darc tuned his ears to his partner’s response.
Trey had no reaction for a moment, but then he grunted and cursed under his breath. All indicators would suggest that his reaction was negative.
And yet the silver links within vibrated in harmony, seeming content. Even the bands of color began resonating in sympathetic permutations.
This behavior matched Trey’s normal pattern. Follow Darc’s lead while grumbling without pause. With Darc’s newfound emotional sensitivity, embracing this old pattern felt uncomfortable, but the effect it had on his companion demonstrated its necessity.
For the moment, murmured the chains of silver. Only for the moment.
CHAPTER 3
Janey couldn’t concentrate.
Before she’d come over to Jessalyn’s house, she’d noticed how Mala and Carly had been circling each other. The streams of light inside Janey’s head had tracked where the two of them had been walking. But even more importantly, the lights also followed the way they were acting toward one another.
Popeye blew a raspberry at that. Janey glanced over at Jessalyn to make sure her friend hadn’t heard. It wouldn’t be good if Jessalyn started to think that Popeye didn’t like her.
But her friend was busy trying to create a YouTube video with her Littlest Pet Shop toys. The videos had become a new obsession for her, and she created new story lines each time Janey came over. It was hard for her to be able to move all the toys around without help, so she needed Janey to make it work.
And Janey liked it well enough. The stories would be a lot more exciting if there was some kind of criminal case going on… most of the conversations were about boys and whether or not the characters were going to pass their math classes. But Janey enjoyed playing with her friend, so she didn’t care all that much.
“Okay, so now Becca’s mad at Brandon because he carried Lisa’s books to class for her. It’s a scandal the whole school’s talking about.”
It didn’t sound much like a scandal to Janey, but she picked up the tiny hedgehog figure that represented Becca and moved it closer to Brandon so they could have their argument. When Jessalyn came over to Janey’s house, they almost always ended up playing Clue, so this was just Janey being a good friend, right?
But keeping her attention on what she was doing was proving to be hard. Mala and Carly seemed like they weren’t getting along all that well, and Janey thought she might know why. At least the bands of color in her head said so.
Carly didn’t understand how much Mala and Janey wanted her there. Well, she knew, but she didn’t know know, if that made any sense.
Popeye groused and said that it didn’t, but he was always grouchy when they played over at Jessalyn’s house. Something about her not paying any attention to him. He was so sensitive sometimes.
Jessalyn recorded with her mom’s iPad while she moved Brandon’s figurine around. He was a fox, and when she spoke for him, she made her voice go way deep. It made Janey giggle.
“ ‘Come on, Becca. Stop being so sensitive. Sheesh.’ ”
Even if this wasn’t Janey’s favorite thing in the world, playing with her friend was so much fun. A different kind of fun than what she had with Mala or Carly. And way different than the kind she had with Trey or Darc.
It was weird. She loved all of those people, and Maggie, too. But none of them in the same way. It was like there were all kinds of different loves you could have for all different kinds of people.
Maybe that was what was wrong with Carly. She compared the way Mala loved Janey to the way Mala loved her. But they weren’t supposed to be the same.
When she got home tonight, Janey was going to do something about that. She could draw her sister a picture. That could work.
Then Janey perked up at something her friend was saying. Jessalyn had taken the Becca hedgehog from Janey and was speaking in her voice.
“ ‘… and if you don’t stop carrying her books, I’ll kill you and her both! And no one will ever catch me, because I’m smarter than the police!’ ”
Whoa. Things just got interesting in Littlest Pet Shop land.
Janey settled in for a good time playing with her friend.
* * *
Darc had been unable to contact the Singh family. No one had answered any of the numbers they had been able to find for them, nor had they been present at their home. So until the Singh’s decided to return their calls, Darc and Trey had decided to check out the club where it appeared Deborah had been taken.
Neumos’ exterior did not seem to indicate its internal purpose. A square grey building with nothing remarkable to recommend it, the venue had NEUMOS written in the window with a series of large dots.
It stood right next to a fish and chips shop, and the smell of fried foods emanated from the structure. At Darc’s side, his partner grumbled.
“Isn’t it lunch time yet? I’m starving.”
Darc glanced at his watch. “It is 12:20. That is an acceptable time to consume sustenance.”
But then Trey smacked himself on the forehead. This action of his had always puzzled Darc, but now after a flash of silver light, the gesture became clear. Trey felt frustrated with himself over some misstep. Thinking back, Darc realized that his partner used that motion quite often.
“I can’t. I promised Maggie I’d go back and eat lunch with her.”
That seemed strange. Trey did not often express disappointment in meeting with Maggie. Darc experienced a surge of something that was both invigorating and unpleasant at the same time.
Another pulse of silver. He relished in Trey’s relationship problems with Maggie. That realization created discomfort within Darc that he did not know how to process.
Perhaps this silver light hurt more than it helped.
Another throb of light and Darc found himself speaking. “Is everything all right?”
Trey made a face. “Really? You don’t want to hear about my problems with Maggie, do you?”
In truth, Darc did not. But another part of him, a section opened up by the gleaming revelations, yearned to connect with his partner.
And that part of him seemed to possess a will of steel.
“Yes,” he answered, then modified. “If you would like.”
Trey stared back at Darc, his expression dumbfounded. The recognition of the expression occurred this time without a noticeable flash of silver, as if it had become integrated into Darc’s system.
He was not certain he wanted this process to become subconscious. That would mean giving up control of the proceedings.
In the meantime, Trey had opened and closed his mouth several times. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, man. And I’m not sure I like it.” He then turned and walked up to the door of the music venue.
Darc’s partner had to pound on the door for quite some time before anyone answered. When the door finally cracked open, a large man in a black T-shirt blinked at them for a moment and then spoke.
“We’re not open.”
The door began to swing shut, but Trey stuck his foot in the crack. An action he seemed to regret when the door slammed against his ankle.
“Ow! Dude! We’re detectives,” he said, holding up his badge for the bouncer to see as he hopped up and down on his uninjured foot.
The silver bands of light processed this occurrence and found it amusing. Odd. Why would his partner getting hurt be funny? Perhaps these silver bands were not as benevolent as they appeared.
The large man groused as he opened up the door. “What’s this about?”
Trey thrust a picture of Deborah Singh into the man’s face. “This girl was here three nights ago.”
“Um. Okaaaay. Do you know how many people are here every night?”
The bouncer shook his head. “Look. I’m just security. You’d have to talk to the bartenders. They’re the only ones that might have seen her.”
Darc’s instant calculations indicated that finding the bartenders here at midday were small. Trey seemed to make that same realization.
“I don’t supposed any of them are here right now?”
The man lifted his eyebrows. “Actually, you’re in luck. We just had a few come in to grab paychecks. I think a couple of them were here that night.”
He pointed back into the depths of the venue to where several people were chatting. Three men, with one young woman off to the side.
Approaching the cluster of men, Trey held up both his badge and the picture even before they were within the distance necessary for visual acuity. He waved the badge and the snapshot in an apparent attempt to gain the group’s attention.
“All right. I don’t want to have to go through a whole ‘thing’ here with you guys. Yes, I’m a cop. Detective, to be precise. And yes, I know the place was dark and there were lots of people and blah, blah, blah-betty blah.”
Two of the individuals glanced at the photo and then away. One of them spoke. “Yeah, man. You pretty much said it. Lots of peeps. Low light.”
“Thanks,” Trey responded. “You’ve been a huge help. No, really.”
A flash of internal illumination whispered to Darc that his partner’s statement had not been honest. But the third man in the group stopped and took a closer look at the picture in Trey’s hand.
“Hold on. I remember this girl. Totally stood out… like kind of preppy or whatever. Everyone else looked homeless.”
“Homeless?” Darc asked, looking for clarification. It seemed unlikely to him that individuals without permanent residence would be able to afford the prices of the concerts here at this venue.