Embrace the Darkness (Darkness Series) (12 page)

Amber tensed, but a slow smile spread across Travers’ broad face. “Yeah. But she gave me a son. A son I love dearly no matter what his mother says.” His face tightened. “Is there…Is there any word?”

Dark rings rimmed bloodshot eyes and deep creases furrowed his brow. He looked haunted. Scared.

Pity tugged at Amber’s heartstrings. She reached up and patted him on the arm just above the elbow. “We’re doing the best we can. But we do have some questions if you wouldn’t mind inviting us in.”

“Fine.” He took a deep breath and let it out in an exhausted huff. “I’ll do anything to help find my son. Just remember I’m an attorney. I won’t tolerate any questions that could be used against me or my wife in a criminal investigation. Understood?”

“Neither of you are suspects,” Amber assured him.

Travers opened the door and stepped aside. “So…” He swallowed thickly. “Do you have any idea what happened to Axle?”

“We have a few leads,” Reid said, as they crossed the threshold into the foyer.

Leads my ass.
They had squat.

Amber knew more than her partner but not even Gerard knew what had really happened to Axle Travers. Just because they hadn’t found his body, didn’t mean the vampire who killed Richard hadn’t taken Axle home for a midnight snack. Or maybe, Dr. Weldon was holding him hostage.

Most likely, Axle had been transformed and didn’t want to be found. Then again, if Axle had witnessed a vampire attack, he could have gone into hiding, convinced he was either crazy or doomed because no one would believe him. She knew what it was like to doubt your own eyesight. If the mind wasn’t ready to accept what it had seen, it sometimes shut down or searched for other, more logical explanations.

Axle had grown up around drugs. If he’d smoked something before going to work that night and then witnessed a vampire attack, he might have thought it was a hallucination. If he escaped with his life, he could have checked into a rehab facility believing he’d finally destroyed his last, remaining functional brain cell.

Or he might have gone in search of the nearest drug dealer to fry the rest of his brain so he could forget what he saw.

As questions formed in Amber’s mind, she followed Reid and Travers into a formal living room. A thin woman with almond-colored skin and straight, shoulder-length black hair perched on the edge of a wingback chair like a nervous bird sitting on a branch. She rose on trembling legs when Travers approached. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“This is my wife, LaDonna. Sweetheart,” he said gently, “this is Detectives Sheridan and Buckley.”

Mrs. Travers raised her narrow chin and spoke in a surprisingly steady voice. “Have you found my husband’s son?”

“No ma’am,” Reid said.

“Not yet,” Amber added. Travers’ wife might look like a frightened sparrow, but she had the steady gaze of a hawk.

She nodded once. Then she took a deep breath and spoke in clipped tones. “Well, you find him. My son Jerome only recently met his brother, and this is breaking his heart. So you find Axle. You find him for Jerome. And you find him for Brit. You got that? You find him. And you find him alive.”

“Mama…Don’t.” A preteen boy entered the room and crossed to his mother. She reached for him, pulling him into her arms.

He hugged her once and then turned to face Amber and Reid. The top of his head barely reached her chin. His father stood beside his wife, his hand on his son’s shoulder. The young man resembled his father, but he was thin like his mother. His skin was some color between the two.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“The boy doesn’t need to be here for this,” Reid said with a touch of compassion. “He doesn’t need to hear the details or the direction of our investigation. All he needs to know is that we’re doing the best we can to find his big brother.”

Amber could have hugged Reid. She’d never been more proud to be his partner.

The boy nodded. “Axle’s alive. Please find him. Okay?”

Mrs. Travers kissed the top of her son’s head. Brit Travers squeezed his shoulder. “Go to your room son,” he said. “We’ll call when you can come back down.”

“Yes sir.” And just like that, the boy left. No pouting. No argument. No stomping off in a snit. And no sagging pants and high-jacked boxers to flash them when he walked out. Just a clean cut kid in loose-fitting jeans and a Carolina sweatshirt.

“Polite young man,” Amber said.

Mrs. Travers nodded, her eyes affixed to the door her son just exited. “Thank you. With him being an only child, it was hard not to spoil him. It’s another reason you have to find Axle. He’s…” She covered her mouth. A lone tear slid down her cheek. “He hasn’t had such an easy life,” she whispered.

Guilt washed over Brit Travers’ face. He hung his head and pulled his wife closer. “Let’s sit down.”

He edged around an oval coffee table decorated with magazines and a floral centerpiece. He sat on the sofa, pulling his wife down beside him. Amber and Reid sat across from them in matching wingback chairs.

Amber looked at Reid. He nodded, apparently willing to keep his word and let her take lead.

“Did Axle do drugs?” she asked.

“No!” Mrs. Travers’ eyes blazed with righteous indignation.

Brit Travers jerked one large shoulder in a half-shrug. “He didn’t do drugs under
my
roof. And there were no needle marks on his arms. I checked before letting him stay here. I’m not a hard-ass, no matter what Shannon told you, but I wasn’t about to let Axle expose Jerome to drugs. Axle’s my son too, but I hadn’t seen him in years, and I had to protect Jerome.”

Amber nodded, her heart aching for the big man. He looked worn by guilt and a pain so deep it shadowed his weathered face. “I understand. You can’t sacrifice one child for another. But do you think Axle was doing drugs before he came to live with you?”

“He was clean,” Mrs. Travers insisted.

“LaDonna.” Her husband’s voice was gentle but firm. She flushed. Her eyes watered. “I don’t know,” he said to Amber.

Mrs. Travers caught Amber’s gaze and held it. “As much as I wanted Brit reunited with his son, I was afraid Axle was like his mother. I didn’t want him in this house if he was into drugs. So, I took him for a drug test. And the only thing that showed up in his system was pot.”

“I know it’s illegal, but he’s twenty-six.” Brit held up his palms in a helpless gesture. “Young men his age smoke pot sometimes. I told him it was unacceptable.”

“But that wasn’t enough for me.” LaDonna glanced at her husband and then back at Amber. “I made Brit search Axle’s bags. He didn’t find anything, but after Brit got him the job at Lifeblood, I asked Vincent to do a monthly drug test. I didn’t trust him. And I never warmed up to him. Now—it’s too late.”

Her face crumbled. Tears fell. Her husband pulled her to his chest, muffling her quiet sobs against his white polo shirt. Travers swallowed convulsively and looked over the top of her head. “Axle was clean. He didn’t even light a joint while he was here.”

But he'd grown up around drugs. “Did he ever use LSD?”

“No.” Travers’ voice was emphatic.

“Could the pressure of staying clean have been too much for him? Is it possible he just left and wasn’t even at Lifeblood when the murders occurred?”

Reid looked at her sharply. This wasn’t the approach they agreed on. But Reid didn’t know about vampires.

“I wish that were true,” Travers said with a deep sigh. “At least then I wouldn’t worry if he’d witnessed a brutal murder and was running for his life. But he wouldn’t just leave without telling me. Not voluntarily.” His voice cracked.

Amber pushed. “He might if he didn’t want to disappoint you.”
Or if he was scared out of his freaking mind.

“Don’t even think of blaming the murders on my son,” Travers said in a voice as loud as a thunderclap. “Axle didn’t have a flashback from some bad LSD trip, kill two people, and then disappear to live on the streets. That’s bullshit.” He rose to his feet. “If you’re taking your investigation down that road then you can get the hell out of my house.”

He glared down at her as if she were a cockroach he wanted to squash.

Reid jumped up and snarled. “Wait just a damn minute!”

Amber rose slowly and held up her hands. “Everyone calm down. Reid. Sit. Mr. Travers, I’m not trying to pin the murders on your son.”

Reid narrowed his eyes and didn’t move. Brit Travers took a deep breath and eased back down onto the sofa. His wife patted his leg.

Amber sat and looked at Reid with brows raised. He grumbled but lowered himself back onto the wingback chair across from her.

Brit Travers seemed calmer. His wife held his hand as she perched on the edge of the sofa like a hawk, ready to swoop if an unsuspecting rabbit hopped by—and Amber felt like the bunny.

She shifted her hips and locked gazes with Brit. “I’m not accusing your son, and there’s no evidence to suggest he was doing drugs. It was just a theory. But I do think Axle witnessed the murders. Tina Gallagher bled out by the door. Yet Richard Baxter’s body was drained of blood. There was barely a drop left at the scene. If Axle witnessed the murders, he might have seen what the killer did with the blood. And it might have been more horrifying than the actual murder.”

Was there anything more horrifying than seeing a vampire snack on a friend?

Travers’ face turned purple again. His chest rose and fell on rapidly indrawn breaths. “So instead of helping his buddy or calling 911, you think my son ran?”

Amber shook her head and spoke calmly. “I think he was terrified. And I think it’s possible he wasn’t sure if what he saw was real or not. I’ve been in his shoes.”

She met Brit Travers’ anguished eyes and told him about Andrew’s murder. “I felt guilty for not saving him, but when I tried I was thrown against a headstone. I thought it must be some monster with supernatural powers that attacked us. But the polizei shot a drugged-out Gypsy the next night as he was about to attack another man. Andrew’s blood was still on his knife.” And the polizei’s story about the gypsy was what convinced her she had PTSD. Now, she knew a vampire must have put that knife in the gypsy’s hand and used glamour to make him attack.

Reid’s eyes bore into her, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Other than her doctors, she’d never shared that story with anyone…except Gerard.

Travers scrubbed his face with large hands and slumped against the sofa. “So, you think my son might be suffering from some form of post-traumatic stress?”

“It’s possible.” Amber dared a glance at Reid. His eyes filled with sympathy. She wanted to barf. He’d
never
treat her as an equal now.

“This all revolves around drugs,” Reid said. “Your ex is sitting in a Richmond jail because of drugs and it’s her third strike.”

“I’m aware of that,” Travers said, his tone harsh, though not rumbling. “But my son isn’t like his mother.”

“But she’s going to do hard time.” Reid was pushing now, convinced this drug angle was the right one. Amber wasn’t about to tell him he was wrong. If he and the rest of the Asheville PD were looking for drug connections, then maybe she and Gerard could look at vampire connections.

That meant late nights.

A vision of late nights with Gerard flashed across her mind. And it had nothing to do with crypts or blood or anything else vampire related. Her skin tingled with unwanted anticipation.

Crap. I’ve been celibate way too long.

She forced the erotic images from her brain and concentrated on Reid’s voice. It was a pleasant tenor, easy on the ears. Reid wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. It was just his sexist, arrogant attitude that sometimes made her want to kick him in the nuts.

“We need whatever information you can give us on your ex-wife,” he was saying to Travers. “How you met. People she might know. Places Axle might feel safe. Solving the murders isn’t as much of a priority right now as finding your son.”

“I appreciate that,” Travers said with a quick nod. Then his eyes hardened. “I assume Shannon isn’t cooperating with the investigation. Let me guess,” he added, his voice filled with sarcasm and suppressed rage. “She’s more concerned with the charges pending against her and whether what she told you could be used against her in court.”

Reid shrugged. “Like I said, the woman’s trouble.”

And Reid had pissed her off. No way, she’d cooperate now—not that they’d actually need her. Drugs had nothing to do with this case. Still, if Axle was hiding out…

“Where did your ex-wife live after the divorce?”

“A hotel,” Travers said. “We were still living in Durham at the time. I’d just graduated from NC Central and was studying for the bar. I was working nights as a bartender and trying to hold my family together. Shannon hated being married and resented the hell out of me. Said I cramped her style. One day, she just left.”

“And took the kid,” Reid said, his voice tinged with anger. “So, while you were studying and she was partying, who took care of Axle?”

Travers held his wife’s hand as if it were a lifeline. She gave his fingers a quick squeeze but remained silent.

“We took turns,” Travers said with a sigh. “And I hired a college student to help. Even after Shannon moved out, I kept Axle on weekends, but Shannon wanted me out of her life. She said I was just like her father, always telling her what to do. So, I filed for divorce and sued for custody. Shannon was arrested on drug possession charges and lost the custody hearing but Axle wanted equal time with his mom. He said she needed him. We were trying to work something out when Shannon left town and took my son with her. I didn’t see Axle again until he showed up on my doorstep six months ago.”

“You never tried to find him?” The anger in Reid’s voice intensified. A thin line of sweat beaded his upper lip. “You knew she was on drugs and you let her take him?”

The judgment in his voice hinted at a past—a past Amber knew nothing about. But she had her own secrets.

Travers’ face fell. He glanced at his wife as if needing her understanding. She smiled and he continued. “I hired a private investigator but he lost Shannon’s trail in Asheville. That’s why I moved here and why I’ve stayed. It was the last place anyone saw my son. But—” Travers took a deep breath. “Apparently, Shannon met a man named Jefferson Cross and changed her name to his—even though they never married. She followed him to Richmond where they lived in boarding houses and hotels until he finally threw Shannon out.”