by H. P. Bayne
“No, you stay on the line. I need you to keep me in the loop.”
Dez lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “Okay, but I need to keep quiet for a minute.”
“I’d like to hear you say that more often,” Lachlan quipped.
“Shut up,” was all Dez could come up with.
He hunkered behind the tree. He could hear what sounded like footsteps but couldn’t make anything out. Surely by now, he should see a flashlight if this was a police officer.
Did O’Keefe have a flashlight?
Maybe it was just a deer.
Or a bear.
Damn it. Where the hell was that sound coming from?
“Dez?”
Dez whirled. He broke into a grin as he recognized his brother’s moonlit image a short distance in front of him. He trained his flashlight on Sully long enough to see blood caking the side of his head, more staining the leg of his jeans.
Dez closed the distance and cupped Sully’s face in gloved hands. “You okay?”
“We need to get to the tracks.”
Dez tried again, firmer now. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. We need to move, now. O’Keefe’s still out there.”
Dez turned and started to lead the way, but Sully grabbed his arm.
“Not that way,” Sully said. “Follow me.”
Dez fell into step and Sully jogged away. “How do you know where you’re going? I sure as hell don’t.”
“I’m following the reaper,” Sully said.
Only in Dez and Sully’s world would that count as answer enough. Dez said nothing more as he followed Sully through the woods.
A bright light ahead told Sully they’d almost reached the tracks. They paused there, allowing themselves a moment to catch their breath before they left the cover of the trees.
“Once we leave the woods, we’ll be open to taking one in the back,” Sully said through huffs of air.
Dez put his hands on his knees to drag in a breath before answering. “If O’Keefe is behind us. There hasn’t been any more gunfire. Could be he fell somewhere and can’t move.”
“Or it could be he’s conserving ammo,” Sully said. He peered back out through the trees toward the tracks. The freight train’s headlight still showed ahead of them. In front of that, just the other side of the creek, stood the reaper. Hands clasped in front of him, head bowed. Waiting.
“Let’s go,” Sully said.
He started forward but found his bicep clenched in Dez’s gloved hand.
“Hold on,” Dez said. “You’re doing this on the say-so of a reaper? What if he’s drawing you into the open so O’Keefe can take a shot at you? How do you know this isn’t some attempt by the reaper to take your soul?”
“He could have had it before. He helped me. If he hadn’t, O’Keefe would’ve had me. I don’t know why, but I have the feeling the reaper’s trying to protect me.”
“Why?”
“No idea. I’ll try to figure it out later. For now, all I need to do is trust him.”
“That makes one of us,” Dez grumbled. But he released Sully anyway and followed as Sully led them at a sprint out of the woods and across the creek.
Closer now, Sully could see movement inside the locomotive. Another moment and someone in a uniform with the markings of the KRPD stepped from the interior of the car.
The reaper had vanished from his previous spot, and Sully looked to the east, down the track. A second light was there, a ghostly mirror image of the one cast by this physical train.
“Eva?” Dez said from behind him.
Sully returned his gaze to the engine and the uniformed officer. It was Eva, all right.
“Thank God,” she said. “You two okay?”
“Sully’s a bit banged up, but we’re good.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re good, exactly. Get up here. I’m grabbing statements from the crew, and keeping them locked down until I get word they’ve found O’Keefe.”
“They’re going to have a bitch of a time finding him in those woods,” Dez said.
“We’ve got a chopper coming with some night vision equipment. There are heat sensors on board, too, so it’ll be able to find him from overhead. It’ll be even easier now that the two of you are out of there.”
“Where’s Lachlan?”
“With another member toward the crossing, providing a statement. Now, come on. Get up here.”
“Sully?” Dez said.
But Sully’s attention was only half on the conversation. The other half was focused on the track ahead, where he could once again see the reaper.
Advancing slowly but purposefully toward them.
“Christ almighty!” came a shout from inside the engine’s cab. “The light’s getting bigger.”
It was. As Sully watched, the Edge Creek Light grew in size as it had done the other night. The reaper stepped to the side of the track as if awaiting his train’s arrival.
Dez repeated Sully’s name, louder now. He turned to see Dez next to Eva at the top of the steps leading to the engine’s cab.
Sully moved to the steps and started up.
An icy breeze whipped past him, and he turned.
In time to see Carson appear from the shadows, handgun raised and aimed at Sully.
“Police!” Eva exclaimed from overhead. “Drop the gun! Drop it!”
Carson had to have heard, but he didn’t obey. Driven by whatever madness had possessed him, he lowered into a shooting stance. His eyes narrowed as he stared down his sights, finger shifting against the trigger.
A shot pierced the air, then a second. Sully started, expecting to feel the pain of a gunshot wound at any second. Instead, he saw Carson’s eyes widen. He kept his feet for a moment, perhaps a few heartbeats. Then he dropped to his knees before falling all the way, face first, to the snow.
“Sully, move!” Dez yelled.
The command drew him from his shock, and Sully leapt the short distance to the ground, allowing Dez and then Eva to pound down the stairs. They rushed to Carson’s side, Eva providing cover with her gun, as Dez kicked the man’s handgun away. As she continued to train her gun on Carson, Dez used her cuffs to secure his hands behind his back.
But Sully knew there was no point. Even now, he could see the reaper staring not at the body on the ground, but at something standing next to it. Something Sully couldn’t see.
Sully puzzled over it, questioning his inability to glimpse this spirit. But now wasn’t the time. Though he couldn’t see Carson, he could certainly sense him. And what he sensed was cold, unmitigated terror.
The reaper’s hand reached out as if to seize hold of something. A moment later, the lawman started east, toward the light from the ghost train, posed as if towing his quarry alongside.
Sully walked to the front of the locomotive, the sound of Dez and Eva’s anxious chatter dying away behind him. The Edge Creek Light was huge, the train behind it once again visible to Sully’s eyes. He followed the reaper and his invisible prisoner until they reached the door of the car nearest the back. There, he disappeared inside.
Tim materialized at Sully’s side, dread rolling off him. A moment later, as the reaper suddenly appeared in front of them, Sully understood why.
“He needs to come with me,” came the voice. Sully didn’t need to ask to know he meant Tim.
“He’s afraid,” Sully said.
“It’s his time.”
“I can help him cross. I’ve helped others.”
The reaper’s black eyes shone as he stared back. “I’ve been trying to find him for years. It’s my job to finish, not yours.”
“Can you guarantee he’ll be safe?”
“He’s a good man, and he’s going to a good place. There are people there waiting on him. Family.”
Sully nodded, satisfied. He knew what he had to do. “Let me do my job. Then I think he’ll be ready to let you do yours.”
The reaper stared into Sully’s face a long moment and gave one slow nod.
>
Sully watched as the reaper returned to the train and climbed into the rear car, presumably to guard his prisoner. Where Carson O’Keefe’s final destination was, Sully didn’t know, but he was willing to bank on it Tim and Carson wouldn’t be seeing each other in the next world.
Sully’s gaze remained fixed on the train until it faded, disappearing like steam. The light remained for another few seconds.
Then it was gone, taking the spirit of Carson O’Keefe with it.
21
The Edge Creek crossing was held as a crime scene the rest of the night.
It prevented Sully from finishing what he needed to in order to get Tim to cross.
Just as well. Eva was devastated, and she was the priority now. Dez had told Sully she’d never so much as discharged her sidearm at another human being throughout her career. The fact she’d taken a life weighed heavily on her.
The morning after the shooting, Sully arrived at Dez and Eva’s, hoping they’d had the opportunity to catch up on sleep after whatever time they’d spent answering questions at police headquarters. He hadn’t seen them after they’d all been taken from the scene, having spent a few hours in the ER before being driven to police headquarters to provide a full statement. He’d hoped Dez and Eva would be long done by now too. But no one answered the door when Sully rang the bell.
He called Dez, who picked up right away.
“Where are you guys?” Sully asked as he leaned up against the veranda railing. O’Keefe’s bullet had left a bloody furrow across the side of his thigh. In the cold, the stitches felt tight and the wound painful. He knew if it hadn’t been for the reaper last night, the injury would likely have slowed him enough to keep him firmly in O’Keefe’s sights.
“Police station,” Dez said, exhaustion clear in his voice.
“Still? I thought you would have been out of there hours ago.”
“It’s a police-involved shooting. Eva’s been tied up in one interview after another. Hopefully, we’ll be home soon. Are you at our place?”
“Yeah, outside. I cabbed it over.”
“Our neighbour has a spare key. She knows who you are. If she gives you any static, have her give me a call. I guess we’ll have to see about getting a set cut for you, huh?”
The neighbour did indeed know who Sully was, so he spent most of the next hour playing with Pax inside Dez and Eva’s until, at last, he heard a vehicle pull up in the driveway.
He met them at the door, giving each of them a hug as they dragged themselves inside.
“I put on some coffee,” Sully said.
“Thanks, bud, but I really just need to crash,” Dez said. “It’s been a long night.”
“I’ll take some coffee,” Eva said. “I doubt I could sleep right now anyway.”
Dez turned worried eyes on her. “You sure? You’re absolutely beat, hon.”
She smiled up at him. “Quit worrying about me, Snowman. I’ll be up in a bit. Go get some sleep, okay?”
Dez gave her one last hug, then turned to Sully with an expression that clearly said, “Look after her.”
Sully nodded. He owed her his life. He would look after her if it was the last thing he did.
Dez shuffled up the stairs, leaving Sully and Eva to head to the kitchen.
“I won’t ask if you’re okay,” he said as he poured out two cups of coffee.
She met his eye with a tired, humourless smile. “Thanks.”
They sipped in silence for a few moments while Sully tried to think of the right thing to say. In the end, he realized there was no right thing, so he settled on simple.
“I’m sorry.”
She didn’t look up. “For what?”
“You shot him because of me. I put you in that position.”
Her eyes clamped onto his. “He put himself in that position. Not your fault. Don’t even go there.”
“Still ….”
“Still nothing. You’re a brother to me. I’d do anything for you. But I would have done the same thing if it were anyone else, any stranger, even someone I hate. He was about to kill you. I was just quicker.”
“Are you in any trouble?”
“I doubt it,” she said. “I’m told the crew members saw it all happen from the window. They backed up what the three of us said. Even so, I’ll be off work for a while until they complete the investigation.”
“Doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s a homicide, Sully. Justifiable, but still a homicide.” She stopped abruptly, her stare containing something altogether different. “Do you see him? O’Keefe?”
Sully shook his head. He’d had time since Carson’s death to weigh why it was he couldn’t see him, and he’d reached a conclusion—one he hoped would provide Eva with some peace one day.
“I didn’t see him even after it happened. Like you said, justifiable homicide. You shot him to save a life, not out of malice or negligence. He didn’t die because of anything you did or didn’t do. He died because his own actions made his death inevitable. I only see the ones where the death was due to wrongdoing.” He smiled at her. “Guess as far as the spirit realm goes, you’re already in the clear.”
She smiled back. The expression carried exhaustion, but Sully was relieved to see the smile was nonetheless genuine. “That’s actually good to know. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
She reached over and patted his hand, then held it. He gripped her fingers back.
Another question was in her expression, and he waited quietly until she voiced it.
“Do you think he’s still around anywhere?”
Sully didn’t have to ask to know what she was getting at. Given what she knew through Sully about ghosts, she had to be entertaining the notion O’Keefe was hanging around, watching her, plotting whatever revenge he could manage.
Sully was grateful he could put her worry to rest as well. “No. He’s gone. Like really gone. I saw a reaper take him. It won’t let O’Keefe go anywhere except to whatever place souls like his go.”
“Hell, maybe?”
“Maybe. I don’t know what comes after this. All I know is Carson O’Keefe won’t be around to bother anyone anymore.”
“I can honestly tell you that’s a huge relief to me,” she said.
Eva took another sip of coffee, then stood. “I’m going to try to sleep for a bit now. Are you sticking around?”
“I’ll be here when Kayleigh gets back from school.”
He stood to give her one last hug, felt her squeezing him back. Then she headed upstairs to join Dez.
While Dez and Eva slept, Sully took a set of keys and headed out, reminding himself to keep an eye on the time so he could be back before Kayleigh returned home.
He had one destination in mind for the afternoon, one spirit besides Tim’s that would need laying to rest.
Lois Davenport seemed relieved to see him.
“I hoped you might come by,” she said. “I had a call from the police, and I went in this morning to give a statement. They wanted to talk about what happened to Tim Whitebear. I understand they believe it was a homicide.”
“That’s right,” Sully said.
“They asked a lot of questions about Norm and the area manager, Carson O’Keefe. Another name, too, one I hadn’t heard in a long time. Will Pembroke.”
Sully debated how much to tell her. No doubt the police, now operating with the knowledge they were investigating a homicide, would play their cards close. Two of those involved in the plot were dead. The third, Sully understood—thanks to a call to his half-brother Forbes Raynor—had been arrested and charged. Will had a lot of questions to answer, and it wasn’t likely to go well for him. Given the weight of the confessions Sully had received from both Norm and Carson, police had searched Carson’s office and residence. Forbes said they found a series of photos, surreptitiously snapped, showing Will lugging a barely conscious Tim out of the east rail yard office. Without a question
, Carson had taken and kept them as insurance, should Will ever step out of line.
Sully couldn’t share all of that with Lois, not without risking getting Forbes in trouble. But he had to tell her something. Pete too. Sully couldn’t see him, but he knew he was here in the room, listening. He not only deserved answers. He needed them.
“I can’t share details of additional evidence uncovered by the police, but I’ll tell you what I was told directly last night by Norm Phelan and Carson O’Keefe,” Sully said. He paused before adding a caveat. “But you can’t share this with anyone, all right? It could compromise the investigation which could mean a killer goes free. Can you promise me that?”
“Of course,” she said. “All I want is to know for sure no one believes my husband was involved in this.”
“They don’t,” Sully said. “He did nothing wrong. Norm told me he deliberately locked Pete in the bathroom to keep him out of the way.”
“My God.”
“I’m sorry. These men intended to kill Tim. Your husband was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What’s more, I’m confident if he’d clued in, his life would have been in serious danger. He didn’t do anything wrong, Lois. He was a good man with a conscience, and Norm’s role, in part, was to ensure he couldn’t interfere. The saddest part of this is I wouldn’t be surprised if Pete was the only one of the bunch who struggled with Tim’s death. The others, any regrets they might have had were for the impact it might have on their own lives. Pete was a victim in this too, and for that I’m truly sorry.”
Tears had formed in Lois’s eyes as Sully talked, but the sense of relief he felt in the room—the feeling of a weight lifted—told him Pete had finally found his peace.
Then again, maybe Lois had too.
“I’m not crying because I’m upset,” she said. “I mean, I am, but only because I still miss him so much. I’m crying because I think what you just said will help him rest. Do you feel it? It seems lighter somehow.”
Sully nodded, offering her a smile she met. “You’re right. It does.”
