Chasing Ghosts (2 page)

“
Hey, you know me. If I had my
druthers, I would have shot the son of a bitch but I couldn’t get
to my gun.”

“
So instead you broke his neck.” Sara
knelt beside the body and carefully rolled him over. She patted his
jacket pockets before reaching inside. “He isn’t even
armed.”

There was that look again. Dagger had always
worked alone and never had to explain or second guess himself. Sara
as a partner was like hiring a conscience, but she had talents that
were indispensable to his business. Had to take the good with the
bad. And right now the way her dress rode up her thigh was looking
pretty damn good.

Whenever Sara displayed an inkling of
confidence and self-determination, Dagger always pined for the days
after he had first met her, when she had rarely left the safety of
these three hundred acres of reservation land, when she was
frightened of her own shadow and looked to Dagger as her protector
and mentor. The good old days were long gone. And his brotherly
feelings for Sara were slowly morphing into something that was
making it very uncomfortable for him to live under the same roof
with her. Not only did he have a very talented partner who was so
damn great to look at, but she also provided the living and working
space which was saying a lot for a P.I. who used to live above a
bar. He had his own bedroom and a cubicle in the living room which
served as his office space. The house was a converted car
dealership. The adjoining maintenance area, which was originally
for servicing cars, served as an aviary for Dagger’s rowdy
macaw.

“
OKAY? OKAY?” Einstein pecked at the
grated door.

“
Yeah, Einstein. Everything is okay.”
Dagger watched Sara remove a wallet from the man’s
pocket.

“
Paul Demko. He’s from Minneapolis.”
Sara searched his pants pockets. “No car keys so he must have taken
a cab.” She checked his inside jacket pocket, then held up a hotel
key card. “He has a room at the Embassy Suites.” She pulled out a
wad of bills from the wallet. “About two hundred dollars, no charge
cards, not even an insurance card, no receipts, no airline
tickets.”

Dagger tested his legs. So far so good. He
staggered to the cubicle, pulled out his Kimber .45 and set it on
the desk. Next he grabbed an ink pad and a piece of paper, then
carefully lowered himself next to the body. “Check him for scars,
tattoos, wires.” Dagger opened the ink pad and dabbed each of
Demko’s fingers in ink, then rolled them onto the paper. “We just
need to confirm who he says he is.”

“
Makes no sense. Why would he say he
needed your services and then try to kill you?” Once Dagger was
done fingerprinting, Sara rolled Demko onto his stomach, lifted his
shirt to look for scars, then pulled the shirt collar down. “Just
one scar on the right side of his neck, above the hairline. Nothing
else, unless you want to strip him down.”

“
I’ll take a pass.” Dagger winced and
limped over to the control panel under the alarm system by the
door. By punching a few buttons he was able to view the camera
recording from the front gate. Sara appeared behind him and
together they watched the recording of Paul Demko being dropped off
by a cab. Demko looked more like an insurance salesman, slender
build with average height and features. If there had been a bank
robbery, Demko would have been the first to dive under his
desk.

The monitor showed the cab pulling away.
Demko walked over to the gate and studied the intercom system,
checked the height of the fence. Instead of pressing the keypad to
announce his arrival, Demko walked back to the street, appeared to
check to see if any cars were approaching, then turned, took a
running start and leaped over the ten-foot-high fence.

“
That can’t be possible,” Sara said.
“He looked as though he used a springboard.”

Dagger replayed the recording. He didn’t like
the looks of this one bit. Suddenly his muscles no longer ached.
Instead an anger and adrenaline coursed through his body. They
watched a third time. Demko hadn’t brought any type of portable
trampoline with him, hadn’t used a pole vault of any type, yet he
had been able to leap over the fence with little effort.

“
As soon as Skizzy gets here, we’re
going to get over to that hotel room and find out a little more
about Paul Demko.”

CHAPTER 2

Cedar Point, Indiana boasted 100,000
residents and hugged the shores of Lake Michigan in Northwest
Indiana. It had its country club and yacht club for the elites as
well as the seedy back alleys for the down-and-outs. Sandwiched
between the high and low incomes were the struggling middleclass
just trying to keep their lawns green, their kids in iPods and
their charge card payments down to a manageable level.

The key card envelope found on Demko’s body
directed Dagger and Sara to the third floor of the Embassy Suites
Hotel. Elaborate floral displays were arranged with precision
outside the bank of elevators. The carpeting was a thick forest
green with an ornate scroll design in cream and navy blue. Two
cleaning carts were parked at the far end of the hall.

Dagger and Sara pulled on latex gloves as
they approached the door to Room 324. A privacy card was hanging
from the doorknob. Dagger pressed his ear to the door.

“
Let me,” Sara said.

He didn’t object. His partner was a
shapeshifter. And not only did Sara have the ability to shift into
a hawk or a wolf, but she also had the eyesight of the hawk and the
hearing and sense of smell of the wolf when in her human form.

“
The room is empty.”

Dagger slipped the key card in the slot and
they cautiously entered. He engaged the safety lock to prevent the
cleaning people from inadvertently walking in. They stood at the
entrance and made a silent assessment of the room. There was a
small bar area and a spacious living room with a desk. A wide
doorway led to a sizeable bedroom with a walk-in closet. Sara
started with the dresser, checking each of the drawers. She moved
to the closet, then stood back, puzzled.

“
Dagger.” Sara turned from the closet.
“He didn’t bring anything. There aren’t any shirts, suits, not even
a suitcase. Who doesn’t bring clean underwear?”

“
Someone who plans to be in and out
quickly.”

“
So why rent a room?”

Dagger didn’t find a toiletry bag nor a
toothbrush or toothpaste in the bathroom. The towels were crisply
folded on a rack above the toilet as were the washcloths. Since the
privacy sign was on the doorknob he knew housekeeping hadn’t
cleaned. The bathtub didn’t show signs of recent use so Demko
probably hadn’t spent the night.

He walked back to the living area and picked
up the remote. “Let’s see what kind of charges he’s made.” He
clicked on MENU and then SERVICES. “The bill claims he checked in
three days ago. Meals, dry cleaning, room service, all charged.
This doesn’t make any sense.”

“
Is it his bill?”

Dagger glared at her, a look that told her he
had been a P.I. for five years and didn’t need an uppity
nineteen-year-old telling him his job. He scrolled back to the
first page. The room had been reserved in the name of Lee Connors.
That perfect eyebrow shot up again. One day he was going to peel it
right off of her face.

“
What about an airline ticket?” Sara
rummaged through the garbage can by the bar, then moved to the one
by the desk.

He stopped himself from shooting another
glare her way and instead unzipped the compartments in a laptop
case resting against the leg of the desk. In one of the pockets was
a ticket. “Open return in Demko’s name. Flew from Minneapolis to
Chicago. Probably took a cab or shuttle from the airport. I don’t
see a rental car receipt.” He fumbled through the rest of the
compartments but didn’t find any car keys or papers. A laptop
computer sat on the desk but Dagger didn’t want to open it here.
Instead he shoved the laptop into the case and zipped the bag
closed.

Dagger tossed the bag on the coffee table,
then sat down and searched the desk. Stationery and pens were in
the top drawer. A phone book lay open on the desk. Dagger fanned
through the pages. One of the pages was folded toward the inside in
the P section of the yellow pages. “Maybe he was ordering pizza.”
Dagger unfolded the page which listed private investigators.
Scribbled in the margin was Dagger’s name.

“
Is anyone coming? I hear someone
coming.” Skizzy Borden slammed the tailgate of the truck and
scanned the forest with eyes that appeared tethered loosely to his
head. Just sixty-eight inches of bone and skin, but Dagger had
often said his looks were deceiving. Skizzy was far more deadly
than he appeared.

“
Ain’t nobody coming. Now let’s get him
the hell out of there.” Simon reopened the tailgate of Skizzy’s
truck. The burly mailman was also far more deadly than he looked.
His wife claimed it was his cherub face and twinkling eyes that
made him appear more like a black Santa than the Special Ops
sharpshooter he was in Nam. He tugged at the blanket-rolled body of
Paul Demko and dragged it to the edge of the truck bed. “Grab the
other end.”

They hefted the rolled blanket off the truck
and half dragged, half carried the body through bushes and weeds.
The gravel road they had driven on was overgrown with goldenrod and
other hayfever-producing plants. The limestone quarry was on the
outskirts of town. A half mile wide and a mile long, the quarry had
supplied limestone rock and aggregate for a construction company
since 1912. It was closed five years ago. What better place to dump
a body than in a four hundred foot deep quarry. Once Demko was
unrolled from the carpet, the two men stood over him like preachers
paying their last respects.

“
Sure don’t look like a killer,” Skizzy
said. His wiry gray hair was wrestling itself free from the rubber
band. As though on reconnaissance, Skizzy had dressed in camouflage
pants and shirt. His eyes scanned the area looking for witnesses,
although everyone who knew Skizzy believed he looked for government
spies around every bend.

“
Let’s get a move on.” Simon bent down
to grab Demko’s ankles.

“
How’s come I always get the heavy
part?” Skizzy mumbled. He crouched down to grab the
shoulders.

“
Guy weighs less than my wife,” Simon
said.

“
You saw that videotape Dagger had. You
see how that guy jumped over the fence? That’s why I took his
jacket.” Skizzy had found something unusual about the fabric of
Demko’s jacket. Although Dagger remained skeptical, Skizzy told him
the government was experimenting with a type of synthetic muscle
sewn into fabric that adds strength and agility to the wearer.
Dagger had told him he was nuts but Skizzy had hacked into enough
government project files to know what he was talking about. Skizzy
had zoomed in on Demko during his acrobatics and his suit had
suddenly puffed up, resembling the Michelin Man. It had deflated
just as quickly after he had landed on the ground.

“
Hey.” Skizzy leaned closer to the
body. “Do you hear some ticking? Check for a watch. He might have
an expensive Rolex I could sell in the pawn shop.”

“
Rolex watches don’t tick.” Simon
pulled the shirt cuff back from Demko’s wrist. Demko wasn’t wearing
a watch. He checked the other wrist. “Maybe he has a pocket watch.”
Simon checked the pants pockets. “Huh. Nothing there
either.”

“
Check the back pockets.” Skizzy
grabbed a forearm and together they rolled Demko onto his stomach.
Dried leaves and dirt clung to Demko’s shirt.

Simon shoved his hand into one pocket, then
the next. “Nothing.”

“
I still hear ticking.” Skizzy leaned
closer to the body. He stared at a spot above the shirt collar. “Is
his skin glowing?”

Simon leaned over for a look. There was a red
glow flashing under Demko’s skin. “I think it says something.”

Skizzy squinted, then pulled back a few
inches as though readjusting his eyesight. “Fourteen,” he
announced.

Simon stared, cocked his head. “No,
thirteen.”

Skizzy studied it closer. “Twelve.”

“
Eleven.”

The two men locked eyes as large as eggs.
Both former military, they had a sick feeling what this meant. They
didn’t waste time trying to rationalize what they were seeing.

“
OH, OH, OH,” they yelled in
unison.

Nine pulsed from under the skin.

“
Roll him back, get his shoulders,”
Simon yelled.

Skizzy fell back on his ass yelling, “Next
time you take the head.”

“
Just start moving.” Simon lifted the
legs and started dragging the body.

“
I’m moving, I’m moving.” Skizzy hooked
his arms under the shoulders and pulled. “Hurry.”

A four foot high rusting wire fence had been
mangled from wear, tear, and downed trees. It provided a clear
opening into the quarry.

“
On the count of three,” Simon
said.

“
Hell, I don’t think we have three
left.”

They made it on two, swinging the body back
and forth and sending it through the opening.

“
INCOMING!” Skizzy yelled and they hit
the dirt as though still in Nam. The explosion shook the ground and
rattled their teeth. Skizzy hung onto the grass as though the
vibration might tip his body into the quarry.

A metallic sound clanged against a nearby
tree and bounced several feet from the two men. They slowly raised
their heads, eyes wide in shock. Neither said anything for a few
seconds as a pink mist drifted through the air. Their attention
turned to the metal object which landed several feet from them.
They pushed themselves onto their knees, then stood cautiously,
testing the ground. Curiosity got the best of them and they stole a
glance over the fence down into the quarry. The pink mist fluttered
like a gauze blanket as it spread and settled to the quarry
floor.