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

  Sure enough, after licking her lips and taking a deep breath, the girl stood.

  “I’ll show you where you can find what you need.”

  Mala felt the thrill of her success course through her. Sometimes, having advanced degrees in psychology could be a true asset.

  Now, if only the files proved as helpful as this receptionist.

  * * *

  “What are you doing here?” Janey heard Regina Cross say as she neared Lula.

  Trying not to seem like she was hiding, Janey scooted as close to Lula’s leg as she could. She needn’t have bothered.

  Ms. Cross had eyes only for the elderly woman who appeared to be talking to herself as she passed through the foster care area. There wasn’t even a momentary glance in Janey’s direction.

  It was too soon to breathe a sigh of relief, however. First off, Popeye was still yelling his muffled curses at her from under her shirt. Second, if Regina Cross realized that Lula didn’t belong here, it wouldn’t be long before one of two things happened. Either they would get kicked out, or Regina would start paying closer attention to the girl at this old woman’s side.

  The second option was a lot worse than the first.

  But what came out of Ms. Cross’s mouth next was such a shock that Janey almost dropped Popeye. And Popeye himself stopped yelling.

  “Eula? It’s been… what? Six, seven years now?”

  “Eight, Regina. Time flies, doesn’t it?” Janey tried to catch Lula’s eye without drawing Regina’s attention, but the old woman had her gaze locked on the social worker. “Good to see you.”

  What was going on? How did these two know each other? And how on earth was she going to be able to escape scrutiny from this woman now that it was clear these two were friends?

  Any second now, Ms. Cross would look down and see Janey, and then it would all be finished. Janey would go back to a group home, and whatever it had been that had been waiting for her there. And the colored streams were very clear about the fact that it would not have been a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

  “So, what brings you back to your old haunt?” Cross asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh, just wanted to show my grandniece around,” Lula said, indicating Janey, who tried her best to disappear into the woman’s thigh. “She wanted to see where I used to work back in the day.”

  Lula had worked here? She was a social worker? Or had been several years back, from what it sounded like. Janey had managed to escape from the pond only to be swallowed up in the sea.

  It was a mark of how surprised he was that Popeye didn’t take the chance to say that he had told her so, even though he kinda had. Janey wanted the ground to open up and swallow her down in one big gulp, but the floor underneath her feet was disappointingly solid.

  “Ah, a day out with the young ones,” said Regina, flicking an uninterested glance down at Janey. “Well, I hope you two have a great time.”

  Their eyes met, and Janey felt her heart stop.

  But there was no glimmer of recognition there. The social worker’s eyes slid past her without even the slightest change in speed or dilation. Janey remained unobserved, and more importantly, uncaught.

  Regina Cross gave a last pat on the shoulder to Lula, then turned to go about her business. Janey breathed out an exaggerated sigh of relief, after which she turned a glare on the old woman.

  “What?” she said, shrugging. “I used to be a social worker. You never asked.”

  Well, that was just a cop out. And as much as she liked Lula, there was something awfully sneaky about the way that she had just forgotten to tell say that she used to work here. Of course, now it meant that they could go pretty much anywhere they wanted.

  But from here on out, she’d make sure that she didn’t leave any important questions unasked. Because if it was unasked, it seemed that Lula just didn’t feel like it was important enough to tell her anything.

  Janey would make sure not to make that mistake again.

  CHAPTER 11

  Back at the apartment for a quick change and a shower. And not a moment too soon, as far as Trey was concerned. He’d already had to wait for Darc to get finished, and that had been more than long enough.

  The shanking of Chris Talon had left Trey more than a little shaky. And the blood that had sprayed all over both him and Darc had started coagulating, making his eyelids stick to the skin right underneath his eyebrows every time he opened his eyes.

  Who had the cojones to stab someone right in front of two detectives?

  One positive about all this was that the prisoner’s records were on file and accessible to them without the hassle of having to get a warrant. Darc had already accessed the information, and it appeared that this prisoner had just exited the foster care system less than six months ago.

  That, combined with the voicemail Dr. Kelly had left him… probably while he had been busy with Tanya… pointed them right toward DSHS. Fantastic. Trey’s favorite place in all the world.

  Not.

  The hot water splashed into Trey’s face, lifting the matted blood and washing it down his body. The fluid swirling in the drain was a dark pink color, and Trey grimaced, trying not to think about where it had come from.

  As the scalding water poured over his body, Trey heard the door to the bathroom open up. The door’s hinges were old, and they creaked terribly when they were forced to move. Opening or closing didn’t matter much.

  “Darc, is that you?” he asked, getting a mouthful of water for his troubles.

  But there was no response. Trey felt his heart pound faster in his chest. Had one of those freaky naked crazy people with the Ken doll crotches followed them here?

  The shower curtain was ripped back, and Trey crouched down into his best approximation of a fighting stance. And came face to face with his very pregnant and very naked fiancé.

  Who, on seeing him with his fists clenched and muscles tightened immediately burst out in gales of laughter. Trey moved out of his karate-ish pose, feeling more than a little sheepish.

  “Okay, okay, very funny,” he growled, then did a double take. “Wait a minute. What are you doing in here? And why are you naked?”

  Maggie gave him a predatory grin, and Trey’s heart quailed within him. How in the world was he going to handle this? She was too much for him at the best of times. And right now was not the best of times.

  But then the counsel he’d received from Goddess Tanja popped back into his mind. What if he didn’t have to “handle” this? What if he just had to be there and present for his wife? Make it all about her?

  Might as well give it a shot.

  “Get in here,” he murmured, returning her smile with one of his own.

  For a moment, Maggie seemed almost shocked, then her eyes softened and filled with tears. She went from ravenous sexual predator to the amazing, vulnerable but still strong woman that Trey had fallen in love with in the space of three seconds flat.

  “You mean it?” she asked in a small voice. “You really want me? I was starting to think that…” Her words trailed off as he reached out to take her hand and guide her into the shower with him.

  In his fear that he wouldn’t be able to measure up to her newfound sexual appetites, Trey had been pushing her away. And for the first time, he saw the profound effects of his unconscious actions.

  “I love you,” he answered, promising himself he would never make that mistake again. “Of course I want you.”

  He took her into his arms, and they remained there without moving for a long time. Breath and body merged as he focused on what would make this amazing woman in his arms feel as radiant and beautiful as he knew her to be.

  They stayed in the shower until the water went cold, but neither seemed to notice.

  * * *

  The name stared up at her from two separate files, but still Mala could not accept what she was seeing. This was impossible. There was no way it could be true.

  There were moments in her life in w
hich Mala had felt a sense of the absurdity of life. The suicide of her brother had been one such moment. Her kidnapping at the hands of Van Owen had been another.

  This instant, although far less outwardly traumatic, was ranking right up there beside those instances. She felt as if something had to give, and either she would burst into tears, start attacking everyone in sight, or laugh in hysteria.

  None of those options materialized. She almost wished they would.

  “Are you finding what you’re needing?” the receptionist who had showed Mala to the files said, the nerves clear in her tone.

  In truth, Mala needed to leave before someone official showed up. But convincing her muscles to function right now seemed far beyond her capabilities.

  “Ma’am?” the girl prompted.

  Something about the honorific jolted Mala out of her stupor. Maybe it was the fact that she did not feel old enough to be referred to as ma’am. Strange that such an odd reaction would break the grip of the name she had seen in those two files.

  “Ah. Yes. Yes. Sorry,” Mala said, stumbling over her words a bit as she tucked the papers back into the files and then returned the files to the cabinet.

  The girl’s face cleared as she watched the progress Mala was making, her gaze darting out to her unmanned desk, and then down the empty hallway. Mala could only guess her thought process. On some level, she had to be scared that what she was doing could get her fired.

  It very well might.

  Mala recognized what was happening in her own subconscious right now. Shock was beginning to set in, and her mind was attempting to normalize the situation. Think about things that had nothing to do with the knot of fear that was growing in her gut.

  This building was no longer safe. Someone had to be aware that there was a link here, that information about the killer could be found in this very storage room.

  And that person could be walking down the hall at any moment.

  Darc. Darc and Trey. She needed to share this information with Darc and Trey. That refrain ran through her mind as she followed the young woman back out into the well-lit reception area.

  Everything appeared so normal, so calm. But lurking underneath the surface of this serene, even boring façade lurked ravening wolves.

  And now Mala knew the name of one of them. The name that had leapt out at her from the pages of the foster care reports. The name with which she was already more than familiar.

  Richard Templeton.

  * * *

  Something warped was happening inside of Darc.

  He had listened to the shower running, had watched as Maggie entered the bathroom, had waited as their tryst lasted longer and longer. And had observed with detachment as a part of him died.

  There had been a white murmur that whispered of him being melodramatic, but that had to be a lie. Darc was many things, but overly emotional had never been one of them. Empirical evidence existed to prove that point.

  Logical, the silver sound had breathed. So logical.

  And yet so wrong.

  Now he sat beside his partner, his betrayer, his friend as they sped off in the direction of the DSHS. Trey beamed, his countenance much happier than their grim task seemed to require or allow for. Even with Darc’s inability to see emotional markers, the smile was clear. Unless it was a grimace and Trey was currently in pain.

  Darc found that he did not care one way or the other.

  What is happening to you? came a silent shout from the interior of his grey landscape. This is your best friend.

  Several times, Darc’s partner turned to face him and took a deep breath. Then he would rotate back and observe the road in front of them. It was an odd behavioral pattern that Darc could not decipher.

  Another silver sigh from within said otherwise. Trey wanted to say something.

  But Darc had no interest in listening.

  Why are you holding on to this?

  For this reason Darc had chosen to destroy or push underground the silver links. They lied. Darc had forgiven Trey long ago for a betrayal that was not anyone’s fault.

  Now the echo of those links in exile sought to sow discord between them. Nothing remained of the hurt Darc had felt when he had discovered the relationship between his ex-wife and his current partner. This smear campaign was an exercise in futility on the part of a discredited emotional experiment.

  Then why are you so upset?

  He was not upset. The logical process within Darc’s mind continued to function with precision. His deductive reasoning had strengthened itself, whereas that internal mechanism had suffered when emotional interference had been introduced.

  More chaos planted by his emotional saboteur. The time had come in which Darc would launch a pogrom to rid himself forever of this silver plague.

  How is a request for you to forgive your partner planting chaos?

  But Darc had forgiven Trey. That had already happened. More evidence of foul play. More indicators that this silver voice must be extinguished.

  Forgiveness is not a one-time event. It is a lifelong process.

  Trey’s voice intruded on his internal battle.

  “Hey, dude. Have you ever…?” Trey shifted in his seat again before starting once more. “Ever had something that you wanted to do but were afraid of? And then by just embracing what frightened you, the whole thing changes?”

  The words were all English. They were put, if rather awkwardly, in a series that should have created sensible speech. And yet their meaning eluded Darc.

  That is not true. Such is the conflict that exists right now inside of you.

  A surge of rage flared up inside of Darc. That idea of a pogrom began to be more attractive by the moment.

  Trey, for his part, continued. It seemed that his question had been one of the rhetorical variety, not one that needed a response from Darc.

  “And then the thing that was so freaky scary turns out to be, like, the best thing ever. And by best thing, I mean amazingly, mind-blowingly awesome.”

  No flash of silver light, no white whispering intruded, and yet Trey’s meaning crystallized in Darc’s mind. His partner was speaking of his relationship with Maggie. In more specific terms, his intimate interactions with her.

  Darc had noticed Trey’s exhaustion. The signs had all been there. And while the colored streams of information had difficulty processing emotional data, the physical evidence had been more than clear.

  And Darc’s hearing remained as sensitive as ever. Living in close proximity with the two had afforded him much more information about their interpersonal dynamic than he would have preferred.

  Another thought intruded. A memory of Darc’s first intimate encounters with Mala. The way that Trey had sought to help him through that process. Darc’s ultimate success in that endeavor.

  And how excited Darc’s partner had been when he’d found out that Darc and Mala were happy. A dark and seething part of him put forth a jagged version of events that spoke of Trey seeking to assuage his own guilt over his betrayal.

  But that black place inside of him existed in counterpoint to the white flashes of light. A photographic negative that in and of itself remained as untrustworthy as the other emotional manifestations that Darc had experienced. Those sparks of insight had left him vulnerable during an important time. Those silver links at times had also afforded him valuable knowledge of the interpersonal landscape that surrounded him.

  All these thoughts and calculations took place in Darc’s head in the space of less than three seconds. And in that brief time, he realized that when faced with the decision to respond to Trey in a negative or positive manner, he wished to choose the latter.

  Darc could exercise choice in how he would interact with those around him.

  Some tight place inside of him released, and in that softening, he could see how significant it was to Trey that Darc understand him. And all his partner needed was a nod. One small gesture that took so little effort, and Darc could provide it for him.


  All that was required was that he decide once more to forgive Trey for a past transgression. An act of love that had never been about Darc.

  That was the part that became clear as soon as he let go. Darc had removed himself from Maggie long before she had left him. And Trey and she became involved long after that.

  There was no betrayal.

  Darc turned to his companion, his best friend, and nodded his head.

  The smile that spread across Trey’s face in response created a warmth inside of Darc that felt akin to the silver light from before. On an instinctual level, Darc distrusted it, but at the same time, it felt… good.

  Settling into his seat, Darc let Trey’s continuing monologue about his relationship with Maggie wash over him. There was much that he needed to consider.

  And not much time in which to do so.

  * * *

  All the players were on the stage. The final act was ready to begin.

  The Headminister relished in that fluttery feeling of anticipation. That gnarling knot of tension in the gut that confirmed the curtain would rise in moments.

  So many set pieces in play. The design proved exquisite. So far, every player had performed their part with precision, leading up to the climax of this dramatic work of art.

  Climax.

  A shiver of pleasure coursed through the Headminister as neurons fired and dopamine released within the brain. Such a lovely response that evolution had granted humans. Their very own source of unending drugs.

  Many that understood and lived in the Darker Side of Yin chose to sully their temples with those illicit substances. And while there was no moral compunction to refrain, the Headminister looked on those who indulged with a certain amount of amused tolerance. No judgment, rather a knowledge that they blunted the true pleasure by basking in that afforded them by chemicals.

  The natural release of pleasure inducing hormones was inhibited by the use of those drugs. Never would those users feel the full effects of a true bacchanal.