I stopped behind Monty’s old wagon, then climbed out and walked down the driveway. As I ducked under the crime scene tape and moved toward the front door, Duke—another of the rangers—stepped out.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
He shrugged and offered me gloves and crime scene booties. “As far as these things go, we’ve seen far worse.”
I leaned against the wall to put on the booties. “So definitely another vampire-type attack?”
He nodded. “All skin, bones, and boner.”
I smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Any clue as to the time of death?”
“Not yet—Ciara has only just arrived. Tala is with her now. The kid is our priority. This way.”
Ciara was the head coroner here on the reservation and Aiden’s sister. That she was here rather than at the hospital was a little surprising, but I guess there were limits on the number of people allowed into an ICU.
We walked inside. The corridor was light, and the mild aroma of pine and smoke dominated the air. But underneath them ran the darker scents of sex, death, and agony. The victim hadn’t died quickly, but he had died quietly.
For the son’s sake. To keep the son safe from the monster he’d welcomed into their home.
I frowned at the insight and tried to chase it down for further information, but it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. My psi senses might be strengthening, but they remained as annoying as ever.
We turned left into a long corridor that ran at right angles to the main section of the house. Again, intuition stirred.
There were secrets in this place.
Lies.
And they centered on the little boy who’d been stolen.
But, once again, intuition didn’t provide anything else in the way of information. It was damnably frustrating.
We walked past three bedrooms and a bathroom and entered the room at the far end of the hall. The walls were painted pale blue and decorated with a multitude of train and truck stickers, while toy tractors, cars, and fire engines battled with Lego bricks for dominance on the floor. In a small cleared space in the center of this chaos was a plate on which a half-eaten Hundreds and Thousands sandwich and several empty Freddo Frog wrappers sat. Beside it was a Tetra Pak juice container with a straw sticking out of it. At least the father had ensured his son was fed and occupied before fucking the woman who’d taken his life …
Monty was staring out the window, but turned around as we entered. His expression was apologetic. “Sorry to drop this on you so soon after the hospital session, but—”
“It’s a kid, Monty. I’m never going to be ‘not available,’ no matter what state I’m in physically.” I raised a hand and then walked slowly around the room, trying to find something that held enough of the kid’s resonance to track him. “Do we know his name?”
“Jack,” Duke replied. “Jack Mason.”
“And the dad? Is much known about him?”
Duke pulled out a small notebook. “Kyle Mason was an ex-copper who arrived here with his son a couple of months ago. According to the neighbor who reported Jack’s kidnapping, he kept mostly to himself.”
Aside from inviting back the occasional sleeping partner, obviously. “Did the neighbor give you a description?”
“No. She said there was some sort of haze around the two of them that made it hard to see them.”
I looked over to Monty. “A concealment spell?”
He nodded. “A haze suggests it was hastily constructed, perhaps as a result of the kid screaming.”
None of the toys on the floor held anything major in the way of resonance, so I moved on. “Was Jack old enough to go to school?”
“Yes. Went to the primary school just down the road, and was picked up by his dad every day.” Duke frowned, something I felt more than saw. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something other than curiosity behind these questions?”
I hesitated. “It may be nothing, but I’m picking up some weird vibes from this house.”
There was nothing in the wardrobe or the nearby small bookshelf that held even a vague flicker of a connection.
“What sort of vibes?” Monty asked.
I hesitated again. “I get the distinct feeling there’s a whole lot of secrecy and lies when it comes to the life of the father and his son.”
“You can sense such things?” Duke queried, surprise evident.
“Not usually.”
“So why are you sensing them now?” Monty asked. “Or is this another side effect?”
“I suspect it is.”
“Well, fuck.”
And well and truly fucked is what I might be before all the changes were over.
“What sort of lies or secrets are we talking about, then?” Duke asked.
“That I don’t know, but it would definitely be worth looking deeper into the father’s history.”
“Which we do as a matter of course during a murder investigation, but I’ll flag it anyway.”
I moved across to the bed and ran my hand above it. As I neared the pillow, I finally felt the slight beat of a connection. I tugged the blankets back to reveal several stuffed toys; the old teddy in the fireman’s jacket held the strongest resonance.
“Got it.” I picked up the somewhat threadbare teddy and waved it lightly.
“Is the kid alive?” Duke immediately asked.
I strengthened the connection and then followed the tenuous pulsing thread that linked the teddy to the little boy. Though I didn’t go deep enough to become one with Jack—to see and feel whatever he was—it was nevertheless obvious he felt safe.
“He’s not only alive, but also happy.”
Duke frowned. “If the person who snatched him is responsible for the death of his dad, how on earth is that possible? Unless, of course, the two are not linked.”
“Given the shadows of deceit that haunt this place, that might well be the case,” I said. “Shall we go? He’s not that far away.”
Duke immediately turned and led the way out, his footsteps echoing sharply on the polished concrete floor. Once we’d stripped off the crime scene booties and gloves, we strode over to the line of ranger SUVs. Duke’s was the last in the line; he opened the passenger door and ushered me in, then ran around to the driver side while Monty climbed into the back.
As we sped down the old road, I tightened my grip on the old bear and listened to the secrets that lay within his shaggy, threadbare fur. There’d been a fair bit of sorrow in Jack’s young life; the teddy had been the recipient of many tears.
“Left, and then through Castle Rock,” I said. “I can pinpoint his position once we’re closer.”
Duke turned and flattened the accelerator. Though he wasn’t using the siren, the emergency lights were on, and the traffic quickly got out of our way. The teddy’s signal abruptly sharpened when we reached the far side of town.
“Slow down. We’re close.”
As Duke obeyed, I studied the road ahead. Just for an instant, a glittering silvery thread spooled out in front of the SUV. It wasn’t magic. It was a physical emanation of the link between Jack and his teddy, and something that had never happened before when it came to my psi talents. Guide ropes such as this were usually only visible when it came to active tracking spells.