Darker Things (The Lockman Chronicles #1) (18 page)

“Instead, I should believe my best friend is the person responsible for giving me up to the same person he saved me from fifteen years ago.”

“I can’t make you believe anything. I sure as hell don’t have the answers.”

Lockman stared into Creed’s eyes. He tried to see any sign of deception. But the man was a pro. Lockman doubted neither age nor time out in the sticks had softened Creed’s edge.

“I don’t know how I can trust you.”

“You know I always had your back.”

“So did Tanner. You want me to choose between a father figure and a man I thought of as a brother.”

“If I had known leaking your location would have led here, I never would have done it. I honestly thought it was for the best.”

The gun had started to tremble in Lockman’s hands. He steadied himself. He couldn’t just take Creed’s word for it. There was too much at stake.

“Let’s go inside, Victor.”

“You’re still pointing the gun at me.”

“Yes.”

“I guess that means we aren’t going inside to talk things out.”

“You’ll talk. I’ll listen.”

“You don’t have to do this, Craig.”

The image of Ryan, possessed by that specter, holding Jessie around the neck, flashed across Lockman’s inner eye. A knot twisted low in his gut.

“Yes I do.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The thing with Jessie, she just couldn’t sit by and wait. Despite knowing damn well what she was doing was the worst idea of the decade, the thought of sitting in a cheap motel room trying to stomach daytime television sounded worse than death.

That’s why, right before Craig left, Jessie told him she was off to raid the snack machine in the lobby and not to bother waiting for her. Then she went right to the car and put herself in the trunk, right next to the oversized duffel with all the weapons he got from Marty.

The ride proved rougher than she had expected. Between feeling every bump in the road and constantly thumping up against the hard edges of the things inside the duffel, the heat nearly made her pass out. She decided then and there never to put a scene in one of her movies where someone hides in a trunk without portraying it realistically. Sometimes Hollywood had no freaking clue.

Now she sat, sweat soaked, listening to the car tick as it cooled. Craig’s muffled voice had moved away. She couldn’t hear anything but her own breathing.

She pulled the trunk release—at least she had been smart enough to check this car had one of those—and pushed the lid open. The air that rushed in felt so good she shivered, taking a moment just to breathe.

She climbed out of the trunk and surveyed her surroundings. Looked like something out of Amityville Horror. Creepy old farmhouse. No sign of life or civilization. The chuckling leaves of whatever the crop was that covered the land behind the house.

She eased the trunk lid down but left it unlatched. Then she crept up the porch and into the house.

A smell filled the house, something spicy and earthy at the same time. The front room was empty. Voices trailed out from the direction of the kitchen. She recognized Craig’s. The other voice sounded strained, scared.

She strode right to the kitchen’s entrance and found her father standing at a dining table with one the chairs turned out and an older man strapped to it with what looked like bungee cords. On the table close at Craig’s hand sat a pair of pliers, a large metal file, a box of nails, and a staple gun. He looked ready to start building something, but Jessie knew better. Those tools wouldn’t put something together; they were meant to take the older man apart.

“Looks like it’s a good thing I came.”

Craig had started reaching for the pliers and froze at the sound of her voice. He looked up and his cheeks turned red at the sight of her.

The old man lifted an eyebrow. “Jessie.”

That took her off guard. “You know my name?”

“I know more than that.”

Craig picked up the pliers. “He’s been keeping an eye on you and your mom for a while now.”

“Why?”

“To keep you safe,” the old man said.

“You’re the one who told that PI how to find Craig?”

The old man nodded.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Lockman said. “You’ll have to wait in the car.”

“No fucking way.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“You’re seriously telling me to watch my language when you’re about to torture a dude?”

“Do you want your mother back or not?”

The old guy snapped his gaze to Craig. “Something’s happened to Kate?”

“Like you don’t know,” Lockman said.

“I already told you I had nothing to do with the people after you.”

“And I can’t afford to take your word for it.”

“So what?” Something slick and wet turned in Jessie’s stomach. “You put nails through his hands or staple gun his face and you think that’s going to change his story?”

“You don’t understand how these things work.”

“I want Mom back. I do. But this isn’t right.”

“Go outside, Jess.”

She crossed her arms. “You want to torture him, you’ll have to do it in front of me.”

“You think I want to do this?”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking. What did you do to that poor PI to get him to talk? You can’t go around beating on people for your greater good.”

“I’m not doing this for the greater good.” His face turned a deep red. “I’m doing this to protect you.”

She sucked a deep breath through her nose. Her insides vibrated. “I’m not leaving.”

Lockman grabbed the old man by the chin and bent down into his face. “What does Dolan want?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did you tell the PI where I was?”

“So Jessie could find you.”

Dust motes infested the shard of light coming through the window above the kitchen sink. Jessie stared at the floating swarm as the old man’s words sunk in. “Why would you do that?”

The old man’s eyes turned to her while Craig kept his chin gripped firmly. He had to speak through his teeth. “Because it was time.”

“Time for what?” she and Craig asked at the same time.

“You deserved to know who your father was, and Craig deserved to know he had a daughter.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Victor?”

Victor Creed looked at Craig for a long while. A screen door led from the kitchen to the back porch. Jessie heard a set of wind chimes clink in the breeze outside.

“I trained you to be suspicious. I don’t blame you for not trusting me. But you have to believe I did not want any harm to come to you or Jessie.”

A knot tightened in Jessie’s chest. She did not know this man that talked about her as if he knew her. That didn’t mean she wanted him hurt. She thought about Ryan and felt buried by the knowledge if she ever saw him again, he wouldn’t be the same. Whoever this Dolan person was, he was as much a monster as the things he’d sent after them. She would not stand to see her father act like one of the monsters himself.

“I believe him.”

Craig gave her that look that made her feel stupid and young. “You’re the one who wants to make friends with an ogre.”

“Stop that. Stop treating me like—”

“A naive thirteen year-old.”

“—like I’m stupid. I know what’s at stake. I get it, okay? But hurting him isn’t right. And I believe him. His story makes more sense than anything else.”

“Occam’s razor.”

For a second she thought he had said something in a foreign language. “What?”

“The simplest explanation is usually the right one.”

She stared at him, afraid to speak and derail his train of thought.

His eyes softened. He dropped the pliers on the table and let go of Creed. “You win.”

She let loose a shaky breath.

Craig went to removing the bungees from around Creed. When he was free, Creed grabbed at Craig’s shirt. Craig tensed and Jessie could see his fist clench, ready to swing.

Creed stood, pulled Craig toward him, and embraced him. “Jesus Christ, Craig, it’s good to see you again.”

And even though Craig had been about to torture the man a moment before, Jessie saw tears in her father’s eyes.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“No, you’re not.” Alec stood in the doorway, blocking Kate from getting out of the house.

She clenched a fist around the keys in her hand. “Give me one good reason.”

“Those people could be out there, watching us. If you piss them off, who knows what they’ll do?”

“How would visiting Jessie’s boyfriend piss them off? Is there something you know you aren’t telling me?”

He jerked his head back. “What? No. That’s just it. I don’t know what they’re thinking, what they’re planning.”

“I will not sit cooped up in this house waiting for my daughter to show up. This isn’t like all the other times, Alec. Surely you can see that now.”

“What if they’ve already been to Ryan’s?”

A chill dripped through her. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

She straightened, inhaled slowly, then let the breath ease between her parted lips. “Then I have to know. She’s my daughter. I would die trying to protect her.”

He stared at her hard. Looking back into his eyes, feeling their intensity, made her dizzy.

“I don’t want you to die,” he said.

“Then grab one of your guns and come with me.”

He stared at her for a silent moment. “Are you serious?”

“I’m going, with or without you.”

He reached out and touched her cheek. “Family is important to me, too.”

“I know it is. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m the only one who cares.”

“Let me go get my gun.” He stepped around her and headed upstairs.

Kate absently touched at the round pendant under her blouse. She wished Jessie had something to protect her from the darker things.

She did.

Jessie had a loving mother and step father. They didn’t need Craig, who had brought this all on them in the first place.

We’re coming for you, baby. Hold tight.

Dolan felt like tearing his hair out, only he didn’t have much of it left anyway. Always better to take one’s frustrations out on someone else. It never paid to do self-harm.

The soldier standing in front of Dolan’s desk had turned the color of chalk. The young man must have heard how Dolan dealt with setbacks. But mortals were too squishy. The kind of agony Dolan preferred to inflict was better directed at a supernatural.

“You lost my ghost?”

“Not…not me sir. He went off the grid.”

“Of course he did you fuckhead. He’s a ghost. Do you know how long it took me to manifest that thing? Bringing mortal spirits back from beyond the veil is nearly impossible.”

“But I thought we were going to raise—”

“Never mind what you thought. Your thinking is based on a tiny sliver of the whole picture. Your thinking is irrelevant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve suffered a good many setbacks these past few days. That’s my fault. I expected this to go more easily, but I should have known Mr. Lockman would give us trouble.”

“Why not send a mortal unit to obtain him, sir?”

Dolan spun in his office chair so that he faced away from the soldier. The replacement view consisted of a stack of water-damaged cardboard boxes filled with indiscriminate plastic parts. Another pile of relics left behind by this once prosperous institution. Another reminder of the casualties under the rule of the corrupt and inept government. The jobless, the hopeless, the ignored. He would lead them all to a new era of prosperity and simultaneously reveal to humanity what really lurked in the dark corners of their world.

This last was, of course, only a bonus. But an important one. He had grown so tired of the ignorance. People deserved to know what power was out there for the taking.

“Sir?”

Dolan grunted. No time for reverie. Big plans required bigger effort. He spun his chair back to face the young soldier. “We have to destroy the ghost before we do anything. I can’t have a rogue spirit out there wreaking havoc. Not yet, anyway.”

The chalky-faced boy broke into a sweat. “How do you kill a ghost?”

“You destroy what brought him here in the first place.” Dolan opened his desk drawer and drew a set of keys. He tossed the keys to the soldier. Despite the obvious fear, the young man caught the keys smartly.

“Room fourteen B. There is a woman in there. Kill her.”

The soldier swallowed. “Who is she?”

“The ghost’s living wife. I promised him a meeting with her when I brought him over. I’m reneging on our deal.”

“How will that destroy a ghost?”

“You’re an inquisitive young man. Usually, that would annoy me, but I appreciate your thirst for knowledge about the supernatural.” He stood and walked around his desk until he came within a foot of the soldier. He leaned in like a drill sergeant about to chew out a boot. He whispered instead.

“Remember the golden rule. Everything can be destroyed.”

The soldier’s quick intake of breath betrayed his discomfort.

Dolan slapped the young man on the shoulder. “Go kill her. And make it nasty. The more gruesome and painful, the faster our ghost will be driven back to where he came from. When you’re done, Father Eberly can hear your confession if you’re into that kind of thing.”