The Night Is Deep (A Liam Dempsey Thriller Book 2)

by Joe Hart

  ALSO BY JOE HART

  Novels

  Lineage

  Singularity

  EverFall

  The River Is Dark

  The Waiting

  Widow Town

  Cruel World

  The Last Girl (The Dominion Trilogy, Book 1)

  Novellas

  Leave the Living

  The Exorcism of Sara May

  Short Story Collections

  Midnight Paths: A Collection of Dark Horror

  Short Stories

  “The Edge of Life”

  “The Line Unseen”

  “Outpost”

  “And the Sea Called Her Name”

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2016 by Joe Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503935877

  ISBN-10: 1503935876

  Cover design by M. S. Corley

  To my family. Your love and support is the lighthouse that guides me.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  He ran down the alley, gun clutched in one hand, feet pounding the familiar concrete.

  Abford sprinted away from him, long, dirty hair bouncing against his shoulder blades, scrawny legs pumping. The alley seemed to elongate as they ran, light filtering between the buildings like bladed things that would flay skin if touched. Liam squinted, the adrenaline rolling through his veins in a white-water current. He could still hear the gunshots, their ringing clear like a tolling bell over the hill. He poured on more speed, sure that he wasn’t actually moving, that neither of them were. Abford’s body jerked as he began to turn, hair swinging, cruel face coming into view. The gun he held came up slowly, as if the alley were full of drying amber, each of them encased. And now Liam couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet, couldn’t see the buildings anymore, because he knew what was happening, knew what would come next.

  No, God, no.

  His arm snapped up, mirroring Abford’s, as the other man planted his feet, soles sliding to a stop, shoulders hunched. The pistol rose up, its muzzle like a dark sun staring with blind violence. Liam’s gun sights flooded his view, their three dots leveling with one another, only Abford’s grimacing face above them. Now he could shoot. Now before everything happened.

  Pull the trigger.

  Pull the trigger.

  Pull. The. Trigger.

  He tried as hard as he could but the gun resisted him, its will separate from his own, until he saw the flash of dark hair sliding into view, covering his target. Her face turned toward him, mouth opening in a question.

  Why?

  The gun bucked in his hand.

  “No!”

  The cry came from him like something alive trying to escape. He sat straight up in bed, tearing the sheets and blankets with him. Sweat dripped from the back of his hair, coursing rivers down his spine as he trembled and looked, wide-eyed, around the room.

  His bedroom. He was in the farmhouse outside Minneapolis, his home. It was early, he could tell from the dimness that barely lit the windows, how the dark hadn’t fully given way to morning yet. It was his hour, the hour before dawn that he always awoke to. Sometimes drifting upward to peaceful consciousness.

  And sometimes like this.

  A warm hand traced its way up his back as his breathing gradually slowed. Fingers grasped his bicep and drew him gently back to the bed. Dani’s face was barely visible in the cool morning light, the curve of her cheek and tip of her nose only suggestions. She stroked his face and the side of his neck.

  “It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

  Her touch and the words were enough to slow his heart, his sweat cooling as he lay above the blankets. The house creaked around them, a gust of wind coming off the fields to the east making its bones shift, sounds he’d heard all his life.

  “Was hoping I’d make it through the week,” he said, staring up at the ceiling.

  “It’s coming less and less.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But no easier when it does.”

  “No.”

  They lay there for a time, watching the shadows of the room shift and shrink. From down the hall drifted the rustle of Eric turning over in bed, a soft snore, then quiet.

  “I think it helped going and talking to him,” Dani said.

  “Yeah. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. To look him in the eyes and say I’m sorry for taking away his wife and son.” His voice shook with the last three words. Dani moved closer to him, wrapping a leg over his, and he could feel the scarring below her knees. It had faded in the last year so that the burns were now only pale patches of flesh, rippled in the places where the fire had lingered longest. She kissed his shoulder.

  “He forgave you,” she whispered.

  “But I can’t.”

  “Not right now, but someday you will. You’ll realize it wasn’t your fault and that burning inside you will go out.”

  “What if I don’t want it to?”

  “You don’t deserve this. I know you feel like her blood is still on your hands, but it never was. It’s not about holding on to the guilt and self-hatred, it’s about letting it go.”

  Liam pulled her closer to him, turning on his side to face her. Her dark brown hair fanned across the pillow behind her and she gazed at him unblinking. He kissed her, filling it with everything he couldn’t say, his gratitude that she was simply there beside him. When their lips parted, he stared at her until she began to smile and turned her head away.

  “I hate it when you do that.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s not polite to stare.”

  “Don’t care, you’re too pretty.”

  She giggled as he nuzzled her neck and caressed her hip and stomach. “Don’t get me going,” she whispered. “The door’s open.”

  He kept his face buried above her shoulder. “Then close it.” She laughed and pushed him away, but only a few inches before kissing him lightly again.

  “Big day,” she said.

  “It is.”

  “Ready for it?”

  “Yeah. I think I am. Are you?”

  “Of course. Just a little jealous, that’s all.”

  “Jealous?” he asked, drawing back from her. “About what?” She untangled herself from him and slid out of bed, tugging one of his old T-shirts over her head.

  “Just that Eric
’s getting your last name before I do, that’s all.” She gave him a taunting smile over one shoulder and strode to the bathroom. He issued a sound of mock exasperation as the shower came on and Dani began to sing.

  “Eric Daniel Shevlin, is it your wish to be adopted by these two people, Mr. Liam Patrick Dempsey and Danielle Margaret Powell?”

  Liam glanced down at Eric, who looked at the judge sitting behind a deep-red mahogany bench. An expression bordering on terror tightened the boy’s face, and the empty right sleeve of his dress shirt was shaking.

  “Yes.”

  The court stenographer’s keys tapped quietly along with their answers as the judge asked them each questions. Liam’s head was light with the knowledge that within minutes the young boy beside him would be fully, and irrevocably, Dani and his responsibility for the rest of their lives. The thought both thrilled and frightened him, but the overwhelming love he felt every time Eric hugged him good night, or asked him to play catch in the yard, diminished the fear to an undercurrent. He was sure that every parent felt some form of it, fear’s twining with love unavoidable. He and Dani were Eric’s protectors now. There would be no going back.

  “Do any of you have anything else to add?” the judge said, breaking Liam from his reverie. He glanced at Dani, then at Eric. Both of them wore tentative smiles.

  “I don’t think so, Your Honor.”

  The judge flashed them a small grin. “Then we’re all finished. Be good to one another.”

  They stepped from the courtroom together and entered the long hall outside. There was a large wooden bench there and Eric walked to it, sitting down on its edge. Liam gave Dani a look before they sat on either side of him.

  “Hey, are you all right?” Liam said, placing a hand on Eric’s back. The boy nodded, then smiled sadly.

  “Kinda weird, that’s all.”

  “Remember what we talked about, you don’t have to give up your last name,” Liam said.

  “I know. But it wasn’t really my last name anyways. Not really. And besides, every time I write it down I think of what they did.” He gazed up at Liam, brushing away a streaking tear. “I still love them, but I don’t want their name anymore.”

  Liam shot a look at Dani who was biting her lower lip. They had been honest with Eric about what had transpired in Tallston the year before, why his adopted parents had been slain along with Liam’s brother and sister-in-law. He would’ve eventually found out through the media, or worse, from another child at school. Besides, they agreed Eric had a right to know why he had lost most of his arm, and nearly his life.

  “Okay, it’s your choice.”

  “That’s what I want.” Eric leaned into Liam and hugged him. Liam brought an arm around his shoulders and then it was his turn to swipe at his eyes. Dani embraced them both. When they released one another Liam squeezed Eric’s shoulder.

  “Let’s go to lunch.”

  They dined at Eric’s favorite restaurant, a small Mexican joint that served a burrito that could melt the roof of a person’s mouth, and the best guacamole Liam had ever eaten. As they finished up their meal, Liam sat back from the table and rubbed his stomach, washing the heat from his mouth with ice water.

  “That was delicious,” he said. “But I’m not sure I should’ve had something so spicy for my last meal.”

  Dani rolled her eyes. “I told you not to order two enchiladas.”

  “Yes you did, but if I’m going to die I want to do it on a full stomach.”

  Eric laughed. “You can chicken out if you want to.”

  “Yeah, you still have time,” Dani said.

  “Listen you two, I’ve dealt with some of the most dangerous people in the state, looked death in the eye without blinking.” Dani made a blabbing gesture with her hand to Eric and he pealed with laughter again. Liam raised his eyebrows and sat forward. “It’ll be me urging you guys on, not the other way around, just you wait.”

  “Holy shit, I’m not doing this,” Liam said, gazing down at the two-hundred-foot drop. He edged back an inch and bumped into Eric.

  “Buuuuck, buckbuckbuckbuck,” the boy mumbled under his breath. Dani joined in on Eric’s other side making the clucking sounds a chorus. Liam closed his eyes and exhaled. The bridge they stood on seemed to sway beneath his feet, but he knew it wasn’t the concrete and steel moving, it was his resolve. Why the hell had he agreed to this?

  “Okay folks, whenever you’re ready,” the man wearing reflective sunglasses and a too-large smile said.

  “Ready,” Dani said.

  “Ready,” Eric echoed.

  “Shit,” Liam muttered as they stepped to the edge.

  “On three,” Eric said, his arm tightening around Liam’s waist. “One, two, three!”

  They leaned out as one and plummeted into nothing.

  The air ripped past them and he heard Dani and Eric scream in unison. His own cry was locked behind clenched teeth that threatened to crack, as he stared down at the ground flying up to meet them. The velocity was a living, breathing thing around them, its shriek that of the speeding wind.

  The lashings on their ankles suddenly tightened and all the blood in Liam’s body rushed to his skull. They halted at the end of the bungee cord, pausing in time, the three of them clutching each other, then they shot back up. Eric whooped and Dani laughed. Liam tried not to vomit. Losing his lunch now might have very unpleasant consequences for them all.

  After they’d come to a stop, they were reeled back up and helped onto the bridge. The smiling man Liam had hired for their jump clapped him on the back.

  “Nothing like it, eh buddy?”

  Liam gritted his teeth. “Nothing in the world.”

  “Can we go again?” Eric asked, his face lit up beyond happiness.

  “I’ve got an extra twenty minutes on my schedule, so it’s fine with me,” Smiley said.

  Liam swallowed his enchilada for the second time and tried to resist punching the man’s sunglasses off his face.

  They got home as the sun was nearing the western horizon, the fields beyond the farmhouse still an emblazoned green of alfalfa in the early October light. They’d stopped at an ice cream parlor on the way home. Liam, barely holding on to his lunch as his stomach kept insisting that they were still hanging from the end of the bungee cord, declined the offer of sweets, while Dani and Eric both partook in large banana splits. As they pulled into the garage, and Liam shut off the pickup, Eric sighed in the backseat.

  “What’s wrong?” Liam asked.

  “Just remembered there’s school tomorrow. I wish it was still summer vacation.”

  “It flew by, didn’t it?” Dani said, turning to look at him.

  “Yeah.”

  “You know, it won’t be too long until baseball starts up again. I think practice begins in February or March,” Liam said.

  “It’s like four months away.”

  “But we’ve got Halloween coming up and then Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Dani said.

  “That’s true,” Eric replied, brightening. “Hey, wanna go play catch for a little bit?”

  “Sure, you need help with the gloves?” But Eric was already scrambling out of the truck and running to the house. “Guess not,” Liam said.

  “How’s your stomach?” Dani asked.

  “I’m more aware of it than I’ve ever been before, thanks.”

  She laughed and reached out to hold his hand. “Today meant a lot to him. A lot to me.”

  “Me too.”

  “You sure we’re up for this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I am too.”

  “Just no more bungee jumping, okay?”

  “Okay.” She leaned in to kiss him as her door was wrenched open and Eric threw Liam’s glove to him. It landed on his lap and Eric bounced in the space beside the truck.

  “Quit kissing and come on, Liam, it’ll be dark soon!”

  “Okay, okay. Wait, hold on,” Liam said, pulling Dani into an exaggerated embrace.

  �
�Yuck!” Eric cried.

  Dani and Liam laughed as they climbed from the vehicle and Dani headed toward the small, newly completed building set behind the garage. They’d had the studio built not long after she and Eric moved into the farmhouse. Dani hadn’t had to take a web design job in almost six months. Now she concentrated solely on her art and the various shows that she sometimes helped curate in Minneapolis.

  “I’ll be in the studio finishing up that print,” she said.

  Liam nodded as he and Eric took up positions behind the house in the well-trimmed grass. Eric paused, situating his left-handed glove beneath the stump of his right arm, readying it for the moment after the ball left his fingers.

  “Okay, remember now, we’re not going for speed, we’re looking for accuracy, right?” Liam said, slowly dropping into a crouch. “Slow is smooth—”

  “Smooth is fast,” Eric finished. “It’s starting to feel normal throwing with my left.”

  “That’s good. I can tell even in the last few months that you’re getting better.” The boy shuffled his feet and arranged his mitt one last time before rotating through the pitching positions; leg rising, arm drawing back, ball flinging from his fingertips, as he fluidly finished the throw. The ball zipped across the space between them and made a satisfying snap in Liam’s glove.

  “Nice!” he called. Eric had already shoved his mitt onto his hand and was crouched, ready for a return grounder. Liam marveled at how he’d adapted to losing the use of his right arm. Not only in his favorite sport, but in every aspect of his life. And the way that his arm had been taken from him, with the violent stroke of steel by a brother he never knew he had—the boy was a phoenix.

  Liam tossed the ball back and Eric scooped it up, resetting himself for the next throw. They played until the sun had dropped below the land, setting fire to the rim of the world. When it was too dark to make out the baseball, they headed inside, Eric to the bathroom to get ready for bed and Liam to his study.

  He shut the door behind him and sat at the desk built into an alcove in the wall. Bookshelves flanked the desk, their spaces filled with true crime novels, law tomes, and fiction by Lee Child, Stephen King, and Blake Crouch. Above the desk was a corkboard. Articles cut from newspapers hung from pushpins beside witness statements and official police reports. Each row was headed by a different picture. Most were of men and women, but there were several of children. The cold cases were his filler when requests for an investigative consultant were slow. And they’d been slow for nearly three months. In truth, he was comfortable with the pace of his career. Since he’d decided in the aftermath of Tallston to keep the life insurance money left to him by his sister-in-law, they were financially secure now. The farmhouse was paid off along with Dani’s vehicle and his own. There was plenty of money in the bank, and some earning interest in investment accounts. The security was something he was unaccustomed to—like having forgotten some crucial duty each day only to find out it had already been completed.