3rd Body: Just try to keep your head (Book 1 in the 2nd Darc Murders Collection)

by Carolyn McCray

  As the thought formulated in Trey’s head, Darc sprang out from the trees, heading directly toward where the shots had seemed to come from. If he was running in that straight a line, he must have figured out where the shooter had holed up. But if he was out there and exposed, trying to run down a killer…. That didn’t seem like such a good idea.

  “Darc! Don’t do it, dude!”

  Trey rolled over onto his side and lifted himself off the ground, pointing his pistol in the same basic area where Darc was headed. He squeezed off a couple of rounds, just to show he was serious, but then immediately regretted it, as two more shots were fired back in his direction.

  But still, no shots had been leveled at his partner. They really weren’t after Darc at all. What was that about? Who in their right mind would want to take down Trey instead of Darc?

  Even with Trey being the target, you would think that, with a large, bald detective rushing your hunting blind, you’d make an exception and take a couple of shots at the one that was coming for you, just for good measure. But apparently this killer had principles, and those principles had caught Trey right in the crosshairs of whatever high-powered rifle this guy was using.

  At least there hadn’t been another shot in the last few seconds.

  Trey felt the pulse race in his neck. His breathing was coming hot and fierce. This was the kind of thing that he knew could come at him as a detective, but most of the gunfire he’d seen in his career had been incidental, certainly not personal.

  He was in the middle of a conundrum. Darc was out there risking his neck to try to chase down a guy with a big gun. Trey was hiding like a scaredy-cat behind a tree.

  But Trey had a child that was on the way, right? Could he really risk himself, when this kid might end up not knowing its father?

  Then again, which was better? The kid growing up knowing that his dad had gone down trying to take down a killer, or growing up knowing that his dad was a total wuss.

  Trey jumped up from behind the tree and started sprinting off after Darc.

  There were no sounds of any shots being taken. No whistling of bullets in his ears. That was a good sign.

  But he’d also lost track of Darc. Scanning the area, Trey looked for the telltale flash of Darc’s light. But had the big guy been using one? That would be a beacon for the sniper.

  Trey stumbled over a root that was sticking up out of the ground and almost went down. But when he got back up, he thought he heard movement up ahead.

  The ground sloped up in a gradual hill, and now the sounds were louder. Sounded like it could be Darc, pushing his way through the underbrush.

  Putting on a burst of speed, Trey dashed up the hill, trying to ignore the stitch that was starting in his side. Man, he was out of shape. Maybe one of these times, his New Year’s resolution to start going to the gym would actually stick.

  Clambering up to the top of the hill, Trey shoved his way through some sort of a bush that was in his way, coming out almost on top of Darc. He had to windmill his arms to avoid colliding with his companion, who was squatted down next to a rock, peering down at something on the ground.

  “What… what are…?” Trey gulped in a deep breath and started again. “What are you doing? Where’d the shooter go?”

  Darc lifted up a hand as there was the distant sound of a vehicle starting up. They both ran over to the opposite side of the hill to try to see where it was coming from.

  There, off about an eighth of a mile, were two headlights piercing the night sky. Trey squinted, trying to see past the glare of the light to what the make or model of the car might be. But at this distance, with as much cover as there was, it was impossible to tell. It could be a Mini Cooper or an Escalade, for all they could tell from here.

  “Call it in!” Trey yelled at his partner, but Darc gave the tiniest shake of his head.

  “There are too many roads leading out from here,” his partner intoned. “As well as the fact that the vehicle can clearly go off-road. The shooter is gone.”

  The bald detective turned back once more to the area where the man must have been hiding. There would be information there that might give them some clues as to what was going on here.

  But for now, Trey was left trying to figure out why someone would try to kill him.

  * * *

  The Tier remained alive.

  The intent had never been to kill the Biest-masquerading-as-Detektiv. This was the elaborate game of Katz und Maus that had been set up from the beginning.

  It wasn’t enough to just exterminate this one. That was the kind of behavior one would direct toward a rat or a snake.

  This one was so much more than just a pest.

  It was difficult not to admire the tenacity the animal-that-called-itself-Trey-Keane exhibited. Limited intelligence, of course. That was a consistent marker of the hidden animals that lurked amongst the children of men. The wolves in sheep’s clothing.

  Or should that be the reverse? The sheep in wolves’ clothing? Which was the better metaphor? Part of what limited those animals that tried to pass as human was their narrow scope. Only a human being could become a true predator, taking their hunting to larger extremes, expanding the scope of their destructive influence.

  That was as it should be.

  But before this one went down, there needed to be an awareness of the plight it faced. It should see its destruction coming and despair.

  It, and its mate.

  The partner was a problem. The partner was safe. Clearly human, obviously working on a much higher level than anyone else around him.

  But for so long he’d been held back by the animal at his side. It was time to liberate that intelligence. That force for humanity.

  Liberate him from the forces of ignorant and bestial instincts and lusts.

  Cowardly.

  Lustful.

  Weak.

  Ignorant.

  Unconscious.

  An animal, basking in the reflected glow of its human master. It would go down. But before it did, it would know something.

  It would know Furcht.

  It would know fear.

  CHAPTER 3

  Now that they were gone from the Family Fun Center, Janey was mad.

  She was in the back seat of Mala’s car, staring out the window as they drove back to the apartment. Mala made her sit in the back because she said it was safer. And that’s kind of what Janey was mad about right now.

  Well, mad was a pretty hard word, but she was upset, anyway. It had been fun to play with her new friends, and it was great that now she was going to have a play date with Jessalyn, and even better that Mala was making some friends, but the closer they got to home, the more Janey was mad that she wasn’t with Darc and Trey.

  They were out there doing something fun. She was just sure of it. All the fun stuff happened when Janey wasn’t around.

  Popeye started listing off all the places where Janey had been when “fun” stuff was happening. The bloody chapel underground, hanging off the Space Needle, the Halloween Parade. The zoo. Twice.

  It almost sounded like Popeye was trying to be helpful, but Janey knew him better than that. He was being a little snot.

  He’d been like this ever since Janey had met her two friends, Jessalyn and Cody. There had been some very rude names that had been tossed around, and Janey was pretty sure that Popeye had tried to trip Jessalyn at least once. Luckily, it had been in the ball pit and Jessalyn hadn’t noticed.

  Maybe he was jealous.

  Popeye rolled his eyes and her and turned up his nose. There were days when he was so difficult, Janey had thought about opening him up and taking out some of his stuffing. He’d turned a little pale at that and said that he would try to do better.

  Humph.

  But he might be right about the other thing. Darc and Trey had taken Janey along so many times that Mala sometimes had gotten really angry with them. She’d explained a bunch of times that it could make the adoption a lot harder, but Janey didn�
�t really understand that. She was healthier and happier with Mala. Couldn’t everyone see that?

  It seemed like Richard Templeton couldn’t. He was Janey’s social worker, but Janey didn’t really like him much. Neither did Mala.

  He thought he knew everything about everything, but really he was just a big stupid head. Stupid head bottom face. That was kind of her using potty words, but Janey was pretty sure that Mala wouldn’t mind if she knew. And she hadn’t said butt, so that was good, right?

  Popeye mumbled that she’d just said it now, so she might as well go ahead and use it a lot more. Especially about Richard Templeton. Popeye didn’t like him either. Janey almost laughed, but kept it under control.

  None of that mattered, though. She wanted to be with Darc and Trey now. If Mala had told her that they were leaving, she would have ditched Cody and Jessalyn in less than a second.

  Now she had no idea where they were, and there was no way she could sneak into the back of their car. Besides, she’d used that trick a few too many times. Trey had gotten into the habit of checking the back seat before he drove away from Mala and Janey’s apartment, or anytime they’d spent time together with her.

  That made Janey mad, too. She’d just have to come up with some other ideas. Ones that Trey and Mala hadn’t thought of yet. It was always Trey and Mala that were trying to keep her away. Darc liked it when she was with him. Well, most of the time, anyway. Lately sometimes he would tell her to stay home.

  Trey said that was a good thing, but Janey wasn’t sure.

  She knew about Darc having a tough time with feelings, but that didn’t bother her. It wasn’t like Darc didn’t feel things. He just didn’t show that he felt them. And he didn’t always understand what he was feeling when he felt them.

  It was probably confusing for him. Actually, it was a little confusing to Janey right now. Well, it wasn’t usually.

  There were patterns of color in her head that helped her sort through what was happening sometimes. Especially when she spent a lot of time around Darc. But the reason she was confused right now was just because she was trying to explain it so that Popeye could understand.

  Popeye said something rude about not caring much, so maybe she should just be quiet. Fine. She would be. See how he liked that.

  They were getting close to the apartment. Janey recognized the streets as they passed them. It had been less than a year since she’d started living with Mala, but it felt like home to her.

  They pulled into the parking garage, and the car got dark and then light and then dark again as they went underneath the lights that were down here. Mala didn’t seem to like the garage all that much. Her breathing would sometimes get faster when she walked through it late at night, like right now.

  But Janey loved it. The garage was a little spooky, sure, but Janey liked spooky stuff. It reminded her of being on cases with Darc. Like she should be right now.

  And just like that, Janey’s bad mood was back.

  “Remember to brush your teeth as soon as we get inside,” Mala said as they stepped out of the car. Her voice echoed back to them after bouncing off the cement walls on either side of them.

  That was another thing Janey loved. How sounds changed here.

  “Janey, did you hear me?”

  Oh, right. Janey hadn’t nodded her head. Better do that, so Mala wouldn’t…

  “Are you upset?” Mala asked, as she pushed the button for the elevator and the door swished open.

  Oops. Too late. But maybe Janey could convince Mala that everything was okay. She shook her head and smiled up at her new mother. It wasn’t like Mala was replacing her first mother. She was just making it so that Janey didn’t have to be sad all the time.

  But Mala was getting good at figuring out Janey’s moods. “I’m not sure I believe you,” she said. “Are you mad that I didn’t have Darc say goodbye before he left?”

  Janey couldn’t help it. She frowned just a bit.

  Mala sighed. “I understand, sweetheart, but sometimes they just have to go fast. Darc won’t always be able to say goodbye to you.”

  Popeye said something under his breath that sounded like he thought that maybe Darc hadn’t wanted to see Janey before he left. That was mean. She poked him in the belly and was kind of glad when he gave a little ooof of breath.

  Serve him right. Dumb bear.

  They got off the elevator and started walking down the hall toward the apartment. But as they got closer, Janey saw someone standing outside their door. Someone that looked kind of familiar, but in a weird way. Like Janey had seen her before but couldn’t remember where kind of feeling.

  It was a girl. She was tall, but not as tall as Mala, and she had pretty blonde hair that was pulled back in a ponytail, just like Janey’s.

  As they got closer, the girl turned around and Janey took a quick breath in. Her heart hurt all of the sudden in her chest, and it felt like she didn’t have enough air. Like she had her head underneath the water in the bathtub and she couldn’t get her head out.

  She reached up and grabbed Mala’s hand and held on as tight as she could.

  * * *

  “So we’re positive that this isn’t the work of aliens?”

  Darc processed the words coming out of his partner’s mouth in the same way he processed every other piece of stimuli that came to his consciousness. The lines of logic took it in, assessed it, and assured him that it was inconsequential.

  The grey mass surged, trying to tell him something contrary, but as it was indistinct and incoherent, he shut it out. But even through its formlessness, Darc perceived something unwelcome.

  Trey was avoiding the reality of the situation by fixating upon something that was unlikely at best. Not that the idea of alien life was unlikely, per se. But the likelihood of an extraterrestrial life form being at the root of this case Darc set at .00023 percent.

  “I mean, how would a normal killer have made these crop circles, dude?”

  Once again, the question was processed and multiple glowing ciphers arose answering Trey’s question. But Darc was occupied with another, more pressing issue at the moment.

  The tire track pattern that he had discovered back at the shooting site was also present at the original crime scene. Whoever had been firing at Trey had also been here, examining the carcass of the bull.

  Whether that person had been a part of the crime scene investigation, or had come out to the location earlier was difficult to ascertain. The lines of logic separated out the various tracks left by the other vehicles, but the tracks were indistinct where they met, almost as if they had been brushed over.

  Calculations continued to take place in the background of Darc’s awareness, receiving new information and producing symbols that represented answers. And those answers led back to an inescapable conclusion.

  It was possible that this crime scene had been tampered with.

  Darc turned to the nearest crime scene tech. The glowing pathways searched out his salient features, refining their observations until a glittering shape appeared, providing the employee’s name. Darc had gone through the online employee database, and with the exception of those hired within the last seven months, all other information contained there was available to the shimmering lines of light.

  Isaac Walters.

  “Who was first on site…?” Darc asked the tech. All of the information he had at his fingertips was irrelevant to the conversation. But somewhere from out of the heaving grey, a thought arose, and Darc acknowledged it without thinking. “…Isaac?”

  The tech’s expression altered at Darc’s use of his first name. “Oh, hey. Detective Darcmel. Darc. I… um…”

  “Do you know, or do you not?” Darc pressed, as another, stranger grey pressed down on him. The lines of light clashed with the surging grey, upset by what had just happened. There had been an emotional response that bypassed the entire network of information that operated at such peak efficiency in his mind. This type of behavior could not be allowed
to continue.

  The tech coughed. Another wave of grey, and Darc sensed the man was uncomfortable. What was this? He pushed down the thought. It was distracting, irrelevant. Not to be trusted.

  “I’m not positive, but I think it was the new guy. Uh… Jeff something.”

  “Fischer.” He was the latest hire, from the report that Darc had read last month.

  “Right.” The tech shrugged. “Like I said. I’m not sure. When I got here it was just the M.E. and Jeff that were here. And Dr. Hutchinson never shows up first.”

  The glowing ciphers within displayed an array of lines that demonstrated that Isaac Walter’s information was not accurate. There had been several occasions, although scarce, in which the doctor had been first on site. Isaac Walters was therefore not to be trusted as a primary source of input.

  But even though the gleaming pathways crossed the tech off their list, the grey pushed back once more, telling Darc that there was more information to be gleaned here. Darc wrestled with the grey, shoving it down and out of his consciousness.

  The grey was untrustworthy, just as Isaac Walters had proven himself to be untrustworthy. That ever-changing landscape might be telling Darc to follow up on the data he had uncovered here, but it was also telling him other things.

  That he needed to talk to his partner about the coming baby. That he should ask Mala out on another date, and that it should be a significant one. That Janey needed him, and should have come with them to the crime scene.

  All of them incoherent ramblings of an unconscious out of control.

  “I’m just saying that we shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an otherworldly influence on the case,” Trey muttered, still clearly on the same illogical track.

  That was the problem with these grey emotions. The inevitable result was one that bogged down the deductive process, rather than enhancing it. Trey’s effectiveness as a detective was constantly compromised by his insistence on listening to his “gut.” Even that turn of phrase was inaccurate. Emotions did not live in the abdominal cavity. There was no organ there capable of any sort of processing ability.