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

  “Yes. Well. You’re welcome, I suppose,” Regina said as she brushed imaginary lint off her dress. “But now I’m afraid we need to remove Caitlyn.”

  Mala nodded and went back over to Janey, kneeling down beside her. “Don’t worry, okay?”

  But Janey didn’t appear worried at all. In fact, she took Mala’s face in her hands and kissed her nose. Then she held out her bear for Mala to kiss as well.

  From all appearances, Janey showed herself as the model child, ready to submit to the will of the grownups around her. But Trey knew her well enough to question that outward display. Something was going on here. She was far too calm and happy for what was going on.

  Then Janey was out the door, accompanied by the officers of the court and the two social workers. As soon as they cleared the room and the door shut, Darc scooped Mala up into his arms as her knees collapsed out from under her.

  Trey hadn’t seen a single sign that she was about to go down. Where was Darc sudden emotional radar coming from?

  “Do not concern yourself,” his bald partner was saying. “Janey is capable of taking care of herself.”

  “That’s just what I’m worried about,” Mala confessed in a small voice. “She’s done it before.”

  “I do not understand the problem.”

  “She’s a little girl in a big city. And when I was hugging her, she gave me this.” Mala held out a drawing that Janey must have passed along without anyone seeing.

  In the picture, there were four figures that seemed to depict Darc, Mala, Trey and Maggie. Darc had a gold badge. Mala’s skin was dusky. Trey’s hair looked like he had stuck his finger in a socket, and Maggie had curly red locks.

  And in the picture, Janey was standing apart from the entire grouping of four. Between them was a red line. The message seemed clear. They were not to cross.

  For some reason, Janey didn’t want them coming after her. At least not for the time being.

  Janey was on her own.

  * * *

  From the moment Janey had seen the look the judge gave her, she’d known there was something wrong.

  The bands of color verified it, but Janey had already figured it out.

  Even Popeye, who wasn’t always the smartest of bears, muttered that something wasn’t right when they walked into the courtroom and Mala wasn’t there. He might be just a bear with stuffing for a brain, but Popeye knew Mala better than that.

  There was something going on here, and it wasn’t good.

  Thing was, she’d already guessed that things were different this time. Back at the group home she hadn’t seen anyone. She had gone into the bathroom for just a minute, and food showed up in her room like it was magic or something. It made her feel all wiggly and squirmy inside, and not in a good way when Darc’s stubble scratched her cheek or Mala gave her a big squeeze.

  She hadn’t even gotten into the pajamas that they’d brought her. The colors in her head told her that someone must be watching. That was why the food appeared right after she went potty. And Janey wasn’t about to show somebody she didn’t know her underwear. That was just gross.

  So she’d drawn a picture for Mala. One that would tell her what Janey was afraid was going to happen. But when she showed up in the courtroom and saw the judge, she pulled out the picture, waited until no one was looking, and then drew a big fat red line between her and Mala.

  Popeye just shook his head and said that it was all a huge mistake. But he didn’t know. He was just a bear.

  Sometimes people were bad.

  It made her want to cry a little bit, but Janey knew that she wouldn’t be able to see any of her favorite people for a while. Like days and days a while.

  Because if Mala went back to their special meeting place and Janey met up with her, Mala would get into lots of trouble. Lots and lots.

  Mr. Templeton was mean, and sometimes it seemed like he wanted to hurt Mala. It was funny, but the lines in Janey’s head said that he liked Mala and was scared of Mala, but that the scared part won all the time. That was weird, but maybe not that weird.

  But the lines weren’t clear when it came to her social worker. She couldn’t figure out what they meant.

  There was a boy at school who liked Janey, but instead of sitting by her or carrying her books or talking to her, he kept pulling her hair and making fun of her because she didn’t talk. It would have made Janey sad, if she hadn’t been able to see the threads of light. They told her that the boy liked her and was scared of what his friends might say to him.

  Boys were dumb sometimes.

  This was like that, only lots worse and a lot weirder.

  So Janey couldn’t stay in the group home, but she couldn’t meet up with Mala, either. That meant that it was time to figure things out for herself.

  It was scary, but also kind of exciting.

  Popeye thought it was just the scary part. Oh, and stupid. But Popeye said stupid a lot, so it didn’t mean all that much.

  As the big men took her back to the car, Janey tripped and acted like she twisted her ankle. One of the men, who seemed nicer than the other one, helped her stand up.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Janey nodded. To be honest, she was just fine. But he didn’t need to know that.

  From that point on, she walked a lot slower and with a limp. That was going to come in handy later.

  They passed by a restroom, and the mean social worker Richard started down at her and gestured at the door. He had an ugly smirk on his face.

  “What? Aren’t you going to ask if you can go?”

  Janey just looked back at him with a blank look, like she didn’t understand what he was saying. Richard seemed to think she was dumb, but he also knew some of her tricks. At least he thought he did.

  That dumb meanie had no idea.

  The bathroom thing was old now. She’d known before they’d even passed by that pretending to need to go wasn’t going to work. Richard would just tell her to hold it until they got to the group home.

  No, Janey’s idea was a lot more trickier than that.

  They neared the entrance to the building, and the big men pushed and held the doors for them. Janey pretended like she tripped again, bumping into one of the guards hard enough that she almost fell down again. Almost.

  She didn’t want them helping her this time. That would ruin everything.

  The guards started moving toward the car, and Janey pulled out the thing she’d lifted off the one man’s belt. It was a Taser.

  Janey had seen them back at the precinct once when Darc and Trey had taken her there after school. After pointing at it a few times, Trey had shown her how it worked.

  So she used it now.

  Popeye wanted her to use it on Richard. So did Janey, if she were being honest, but that wouldn’t make the plan work. So as much as she wished she could have, Janey pointed the prongs at the guard who hadn’t helped her up.

  Maybe next time he’d be nicer to the kids he was guarding.

  Electricity buzzed through the wires that shot out of the gun she was holding. The sound was so loud and strange that she almost dropped the Taser. But then a second later she threw it down on purpose, as the other guard figured out what was going on.

  He lunged at her, and she hopped away on one foot, careful not to use the leg that was supposed to be injured. Richard stepped around on the other side of her while the big guard she had tased flopped about on the ground like a fish pulled out of a lake.

  “I’ve got her. She’s not going anywhere.”

  That was just what Janey had been hoping he’d do. The lines in her head had told her that there was a sixty four percent chance. So she was feeling pretty lucky right now.

  Still hopping on one leg, Janey backed away from the guard who was moving in to try to catch her. Richard was coming up on her from behind. She waited until right at the last moment, right before he stretched out his arms.

  Then Janey put down her “hurt” foot, spun around, and kicked Ri
chard in the privates. As hard as she could.

  Mala had told her that if a man was ever trying to hurt her, she should do just that. And Richard was trying to hurt her. Maybe not in the way Mala was saying, but still. It counted, right?

  Even Popeye couldn’t come up with an argument for that one.

  Then, while the mean social worker was bending over and groaning, Janey darted off as fast as she could sprint. She heard a yelp behind her as she raced to the nearest cross street.

  This was the hard part.

  If she had done a super job of convincing everybody that her leg was really hurt, the combination of Richard getting kicked in his special place and their surprise that she could run on two legs might be enough to keep them from figuring out what was going on too fast. But if she hadn’t, they’d catch her in two seconds flat.

  She sped off around the corner of the nearest street, trying to find a big crowd to blend into. There were a bunch of girls coming out of a clothing store, giggling and drinking sodas. Janey darted in between them, making them squeal about how cute she was. Then she put her finger up to her lips, telling the girls to be quiet, raced into the store and hid behind a mannequin.

  The girls continued to giggle, but Janey wasn’t too worried about that. Older girls like that giggled all the time. At least, that’s what the bands of light were saying.

  What she was worried about was that as soon as one of the big men came running around the corner. Those girls might just point them right toward her hiding spot, and she had no idea what to do then.

  She looked around the store, hoping to see another exit. It looked like there might be one at the back, but there was an older woman at the counter who might spot Janey if she went out that way.

  Right at that moment, the giggling stopped for a moment, and Janey heard the deep voice of one of the officers as he spoke to the group. She held her breath.

  “Did any of you see a little girl run past?” he asked.

  “You mean a girl about this size? Blonde hair?” one of the girls spoke up, still giggling a little bit, although not as much as before.

  “Yes, that’s her.”

  “Yeah, we saw her.”

  Janey’s heart dropped into her shoes. Popeye muttered something about never trusting a group of giggling girls.

  “She ran off that way, down that alley over there,” came the voice of the teenager. “I think, anyway.”

  “Thanks!”

  And then Janey heard feet running away, she guessed to wherever the girl had told them. The door to the store opened back up, a bell jingling at the top. A face appeared in the opening, just long enough to spot Janey and give her a wink.

  Then the girls were gone.

  Janey slumped to the ground, her heart pounding in her chest. That had been so close. They had almost gotten her.

  Now she just had to figure out what she was going to do until she could figure out what was wrong with the judge and her social worker. That was going to take a lot of work, especially for a little girl.

  She brushed off her clothes and started to stand up, when she felt a hand grip her shoulder. A strong smell of perfume drifted over her from the person standing behind.

  “Now what do we have here?”

  CHAPTER 6

  Darc followed the flashings of the silver chain links as he comforted Mala in the backseat. The sounds from the rear of Trey’s Land Rover were different than those he experienced in the front. That fact should have been a logical extension from simple acoustic principles, yet Darc uncovered a sense of unease being in such a familiar setting and having it enter his perceptions in a new way.

  Those feelings were processed through those same pulses of white light. Darc could still not bring himself to trust in the information that came from those lightning flashes of insight.

  His logical sense worked just as fast, processed far more information on a regular basis, yet there had never been a moment in which Darc had felt unsure of the output. When the lines of light were unsure of an answer, that became part of the report. He always knew just how far to go with the data they provided.

  But these silver bands were a largely untested, untried resource. One that had developed on almost a subconscious level.

  “We will find Carly. And Janey will remain safe.” The words flowed out of his mouth, coated with silver gloss. And yet, even as he said the words, Darc could not know for certain that they were true.

  The bands murmured to him that those facts were unimportant right now. What was necessary was helping Mala.

  While he agreed with the idea of assisting Mala, to say that facts were unimportant betrayed Darc’s sensibilities to the core. He could feel his faculties rebelling against the very idea that words would be put out into the world that had not been tested in the fiery crucible of pure logic.

  For all the chaos that reigned inside, however, Darc had to admit that Mala’s response seemed to prove the point of the silver circles. Mala moved into Darc’s embrace, pressing her body up against his.

  For comfort, the silver glow whispered. She needs you.

  The colored threads never spoke. It had always been unnecessary. Darc had no desire to converse with some part of his own persona. That did not seem to be a productive use of his time.

  Trey pulled off to the side of the road, parking in front of Darc’s place. Maggie stepped out of the car.

  “Are you sure you don’t need me?” she asked, rubbing her hand over the increasing girth of her stomach.

  “No,” Trey answered. “Go rest. Eat something. It’s been almost two hours since you’ve had a bite.”

  The time estimate sank into Darc’s awareness, the colored pathways working their informational process. Maggie’s eating patterns had been shortening of late. Regular meals had now been replaced with large snacks consumed approximately every two hours. When that did not happen, Maggie’s mood seemed to turn… sour.

  Quickly.

  As Maggie walked away from the car, her gait affected by her pregnancy, Trey’s cell phone rang. He scooped it up and glanced over into the backseat as he answered.

  “Detective Keane.” There was a pause. “Right. On it.” He turned around to give Darc a look that would have been indecipherable to him only days earlier. His expression appeared apologetic. “We’ve got another body.”

  Darc felt Mala shift in his embrace. His desire was to reject the assignment. To have Trey call back and say that someone else would need to go out to take care of this one. How strange. That had never happened to Darc before. This desire necessitated further analysis, that seemed clear.

  But before the impulse could translate into words, Mala spoke, her voice partially trapped by Darc’s chest. He felt more than he heard her speech.

  “Please. Let’s go. It will take my mind off Janey.” Then she extricated herself from Darc’s arms and looked into his face. “Besides, there might be more information that could lead us to Carly.”

  The statement served to underline just how much the past twenty four hours had done to this woman. As Darc returned her steady gaze, something odd began to happen.

  Darc felt a bizarre sensation. A burning in his chest that radiated up, interfering with his breathing, causing his eyes to sting. Several alarm bells sounded in his mind, causing the colored bands of light to tangle and swarm about in disarray.

  Mala reached out and touched his cheek. “Darc, are you okay?”

  “I do not know,” he replied in all honesty. “I seem to be having a possible allergic reaction or attack.”

  Mala’s brow furrowed in concern, which caused the feeling to intensify. “Describe the symptoms to me.”

  Darc did so, and as his description continued, Mala’s expression altered. It shifted from alarm to concern, and then from there to understanding and something far warmer. Each change was a silver flare in Darc’s consciousness, and each shift took him further into the strange sensations.

  Tracing her thumb across his cheek, Mala held up the d
igit and showed it to him. Her thumb was wet. What was happening?

  “You’re crying, Darc,” she murmured, her words a gentle barrage on his senses. “What you’re feeling is pain. Grief.”

  The words, although their definitions were made available in an instant from the tracings of light, did not seem to make sense in the order in which Mala had used them. There was a block there that appeared to keep him from being able to piece together their meaning when placed together.

  “It’s okay,” Mala whispered to him. “You’re feeling empathy for me. And pain in your own right.”

  The words were a wash, a cacophony of sound, a babbling brook with no sense or logic to them. An enigma. A puzzle. He could not decipher them.

  But that was not really true, was it? There was no one who could solve puzzles more readily than Darc. A throb of silver, a twisting of colored light, and the answer was evident. Right there, ready for Darc to acknowledge.

  He was changing. The new sensitivities that had been growing in his awareness were sending out tendrils of light, invading his senses, his body, his entire being.

  It hurt.

  The pain seared through him, a band that constricted around his chest to keep him from being able to breathe properly. The air surged in and out of his lungs in heaving gasps. Something was wrong. Desperately wrong.

  “I cannot… No… This…” Words would not come. Darc could not force them out past the white hot circle around his torso that continued to pull ever tighter. Moisture flowed from his eyes, from his nose, covering his face in tracks of pain.

  And everywhere he searched, Darc found nothing but the evidence of that pain. Hurting, hurting everywhere. He could not escape.

  “Make… it… stop,” he gasped.

  This could not be allowed to continue. This was a monstrosity, an abomination. He could find no end to the excruciating fire that consumed him.

  But this time, Mala wrapped her arms around him, pulling his head into her chest and stroking his hair. The pain, still present, softened, and Darc experienced something else he never had.

  Comfort.

  * * *

  Mala felt overwhelmed.