Chapter Twenty-Four
Charlie drifted in and out of sleep. His dreams were filled with visions of people lurking in the shadows, clambering along ledges, silently breaking windows—his windows.
He lay in bed looking toward the night sky.
In one of the window panes, he saw the reflection of Declan’s side of the bed, but there was no one there.
Then he heard a sound…a breathy moan. It was Duck, softly whining.
What the fuck is he doing here?
Duck turned to Charlie, but he was somehow…
different. He wasn’t the happy dog that drooled every time someone noticed him.
His eyes were rheumy. He looked painfully sad.
Duck lowered his head and snuffled his way to the bed.
He put his front paws on Declan’s side and sniffed at the sheets, then made his way back to the windowsill and bayed at the outside world.
Charlie tried to move, but his limbs refused to obey.
He tried to shout, but he couldn’t make a sound.
He tried again, his lungs gasping for air, filling themselves to the brim—then, with all the power left in him, Charlie let loose a bellowing cry like his life depended on it.
He hoped that Declan would rush to him from another room, toss himself onto the bed, grab Charlie by the shoulders and tell him everything was going to be okay.
But Declan didn’t come. Was this a nightmare, or was this real?
Charlie fought to extract himself from the tendrils of the dream-world, using every ounce of strength he had to drag himself out of the dying night terror.
He tried to sit up again. This time, he could move. He opened his eyes and looked at his watch—nine a.m. Sunshine streamed through the window, but there was no dog, and there was no Declan.
A sound from the floor below startled him…
footsteps. Charlie crept down the stairs and made his way through Declan’s office.
He cautiously opened the door to the main room, praying it might be Declan, but it wasn’t.
It was Mrs B who was at her desk, removing the dust covers from her keyboard and monitors.
She neatly folded them and placed them in their appropriate spot on the shelf.
When she turned around, her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“You look like you slept in your clothes last night. What’s gotten into you? ”
She paused as Charlie started to cry.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” she asked.
“Jules is missing. I botched the case. And now I can’t find Declan. I think someone’s taken him.”
She walked toward him. “What are you talking about? What do you mean Jules is missing? And who’s got Declan?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Come here,” Mrs B said reaching out and taking his hand. She led him to the couch and sat him down. “I’ll go and make us some coffee and then you can—” She was interrupted by Duck howling upstairs. “Duck. Get down here this instant,” she yelled, “and stop that racket.”
Charlie heard the clatter of dog claws on wood and shortly found himself in the presence of the dog, who sidled up to Charlie and placed his very sad-looking face on his knee.
Mrs B came out of the kitchenette a few moments later and placed two cups of coffee on the table. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a dog biscuit and gave it to Duck. The dog took it in his mouth, then proceeded to place it on the table with the coffees.
“Now, start from the beginning.”
Charlie told Mrs B everything about Jules.
He told her how she had disappeared. He told her about his phone being lost. He told her how he was trying to find out more information about her.
And then he told her how he’d found Declan’s van, but Declan wasn’t there.
“This isn’t like him. Something’s happened, I just know it. ”
“We have to go to the police with this,” she said, standing.
“I’ve already called Sam, and he called Gary Sawchuck.”
“All right,” Mrs B said. “So let’s start with Jules. You said you were trying to track down information on her. Did you have any luck?”
Charlie quickly got up and ran to his office and Mrs B followed.
The computer program was still running. It was too early to draw any conclusions, but it looked like the search hadn’t achieved much.
Charlie groaned. “The computer should have found more than this by now. I don’t know what to do next. ”
Mrs B patted his hand. “Maybe she was just testing you. Maybe she’ll walk through the door and everything will be just fine.”
The alarm system chirped and the sound of footsteps echoed up the stairwell. Mrs B and Charlie left his office and looked at the door expectantly. The knob turned and the door opened. It wasn’t Jules, and it wasn’t Declan. Instead, in walked Sam Hunt, followed closely by Gwen.
“So is Declan back yet?” Sam asked.
Charlie shook his head.
Sam chewed on his lower lip, staring past Charlie. “You really think that someone would do him harm? Has he pissed anyone off lately?”
“He was trying to figure that out,” Charlie replied. “He made a list. It’s on his desk.”
Sam sighed. “Well, maybe I should check it out, especially given the break-in.”
“Break-ins,” Charlie said.
Sam scowled at him. “Right. The bakery and up here.”
Charlie paused. “That’s not all of them.”
“What?” Sam barked.
“Declan’s therapist’s office was broken into last week, and it looks like Declan’s file was the only thing they were interested in.”
“Hold on,” Sam said as he scribbled down some notes. “His therapist’s office was broken into? Why didn’t you or Declan tell me about this sooner?”
“Declan didn’t want to worry you,” Charlie said. “And we weren’t one hundred per cent sure it’s all linked. It was just a lot of weird things going on in quick succession, including the attack on the boy at Bar-None.”
“Gary told me about that. From what I’ve seen, my son’s life is soaked in weird things. I mean, you’re the sanest thing to happen to him in years.”
Charlie wasn’t sure if he should take that as a compliment.
Gwen moved toward Charlie. “Sam’ll sort this out.” She turned away, flushed and obviously trying to hide her concern. “Why don’t I make us all some fresh coffee.” She quickly made her way to the kitchenette.
Sam crossed his arms. “Look, Charlie, it’s still early. Declan’s been gone less than twelve hours. Let me give Gary Sawchuck a call and see if they’ve seen any action near the van.”
“He would have called if they had, wouldn’t he?” Charlie asked.
“Still, it can’t hurt to see if he’s seen anything.”
Sam punched Gary’s number into his phone and the others waited for a response.
After a few seconds, Sam grunted into the receiver. “Gary, it’s me. Anything?… Uh- huh… All right. Thanks.”
Everyone held their breath.
Sam shrugged and disconnected. “Nothing.”
“Maybe I missed something,” Charlie said. “I want to go back to the van.”
Mrs B looked at Charlie. “Sam and Gary can take care of this. Don’t you have other things to look after?”
Charlie resisted the urge to cry. “Sam, I have another case I’m working on, and that person has also gone missing.”
“When?” Sam asked.
Charlie shrugged. “Around the same time as Declan. Like you said, until someone is missing for twenty-four hours, there’s not much the police can do.
I’ve followed up on all of my leads, and I’m waiting for some information to come back.
And as for Declan, I can’t sit here and wait around.
And my gut is telling me that I have to go back to that van now. ”
Sam looked Charlie up and down. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm. I’d like to see where the van was parked. Oh, and grab me that list. If Declan doesn’t show up soon, maybe Gary and I can start contacting Declan’s enemies and have them account for their whereabouts.”
“Great,” Charlie said.
He quickly went to Declan’s office and grabbed the paper from the desk, pausing to take a picture of the list using Declan’s phone. He wanted to make sure that he had a copy. Charlie returned to the main room and gave the list to Sam. “I’m ready to go.”
Duck howled.
“Not you, boy. You stay here,” Charlie said.
Duck ran to the door and scratched at it.
“Come here, boy,” Mrs B called, but to no avail. Duck was running in circles.
Charlie and Sam started to descend the stairs. Duck continued baying and howling. They made it to the street, and were turning into the alleyway that led to the parking lot, when the street-level door to the office opened. Duck emerged on a leash, dragging Mrs B behind him.
“You’re taking him,” she said. “If you leave him here, he’ll either demolish the place or drop from a stroke.” She thrust the leash into Charlie’s hands.
Mrs B didn’t wait for a response, she just turned and went back to the door.
Charlie looked at Sam, hoping he’d step up to the plate and say that they couldn’t take him. All he said was, “Pick your battles, Charlie.”
Once Duck was in the back seat of the car, he calmed down. He stood with his front legs on the console, looking out of the front window like he was going for a pleasant country drive.
They drove in silence for a few kilometres. Charlie glanced over beside him. Duck had edged his way further forward along the console. He stood between him and Sam, who stared straight ahead as he gently stroked the dog’s head.
“What are you thinking about?” Charlie asked.
Sam kept his gaze forward. “Declan. He was always a tough kid,” Sam started. “He had to be. Things weren’t exactly happy between his mom and me when he was young. We fought over everything—the way she was raising him, how little time I spent with him.”
Charlie could sense Sam was looking at him now.
Sam continued. “I was afraid he’d grow up…
soft. And then, after his mom died, I wasn’t easy on him.
I knew he was gay. I knew if he was going to survive, I had to toughen him up so he’d be able to handle himself.
We haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but I’m proud of the man he’s become, and I’m just hoping he’s okay, ’cause I’d like a chance to tell him that in person. ”
Charlie nodded. “Then let’s make sure he’s okay.”
They pulled onto a side street and Charlie pointed at the van. As they stepped out of the car, a figure approached them. It was Gary Sawchuck.
“Sam. Charlie,” Gary said. He was dressed in civvies and had come from his own car. “Thought I’d handle this off-the-record for the moment.”
“Good,” Sam said. “Anyone been showing any interest in the van?”
“No one. Street’s been dead all morning.”
Charlie began to check out the van. Duck stood in the driver’s seat of the car and barked madly.
“Duck! Sit!” Charlie yelled out. It always worked for Mrs B.
Charlie continued. “As far as I can see, there’s nothing out of the— Oh, for crying out loud. Duck—shut up!”
Sawchuck looked at him. “You better let him out of there before he tears the interior to pieces.”
As Charlie stomped back to the car, he heard Sawchuck ask Sam, “Did you really have to bring him along?” Charlie wasn’t sure if he was referring to Duck, or himself.
When he got to the vehicle, he found that Duck had completely tangled up his leash with the stick shift, brake and turn signal. He looked up at Charlie plaintively.
“Come on, boy. You’re all right.”
Charlie held onto the leash as he unknotted the trapped animal, then made his way to the van.
He pulled out his set of keys and opened the door.
Before Charlie could stop him, Duck leapt up into the cab, sniffing the steering wheel and driver’s seat, then onto the floor.
He howled loudly, then jumped out onto the road, snuffling his way along the street.
“He isn’t tracking, is he?” Sawchuck asked.
“I…I have no idea,” Charlie said, holding tightly onto the leash. Nose to the ground, the dog dragged Charlie to a fence and pawed at the gate. Duck looked up at Charlie and whimpered.
“Sit,” Charlie said. Duck ignored him and sniffed at the gate. “What do you think, Gary?”
“I suppose there’s no harm in seeing if anyone’s home,” Sawchuck said. He went up to the front door and rang the doorbell, but there was no response.
After another try with no response, Sawchuck shrugged and tried the door. It was locked.
Duck continued to scratch at the gate post. Charlie opened the gate. The dog put its nose down to the ground once more and made his way to the back door. Sam and Sawchuck joined them.
Charlie hesitated.
“Go ahead,” Sawchuck said.
Charlie tried the door, and it was unlocked. He glanced around then followed Duck inside. The house had the feeling of not being lived in—no shoes by the door and nothing on the kitchen table. The furnishings were basic, and coated in dust.
Duck pulled hard on the leash.
“What the hell?” Sam said. “Let him go.”
Charlie dropped the leash and Duck sniffed around the landing then headed down into the cellar. The dog’s nose swept back and forth across the floor as he followed the scent. He continued forward until he reached a closed door. Charlie took a hold of the leash then reached for the handle.
Sawchuck cleared his throat and moved in front. He cautiously opened the door far enough that he could reach in with his hand and flicked on the lights.
Charlie prepared himself for the worst. Please don’t let there be…anything bad in there.
“Hold onto the dog,” Sam advised.
The room was a combination laundry and furnace room. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
“Okay, let the dog go,” Sam said. Duck started to sniff the floor, heading toward the furnace, but stopped and sneezed. He shook his head then sniffed the floor, but immediately backed up.
“Wait a sec,” Gary said. He walked over to the furnace and bent down, then pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to cover his hand.
He gently picked up a fragment of what appeared to be a broken bottle.
Gary took it over to the light and examined it.
He held it up to Duck’s nose and the dog jumped back.
“What is it?” Charlie asked.
“Don’t know, but your dog doesn’t like it,” Gary said as he looked up from the fragment. “I’ll see what my guys in the lab can find out.”
Duck made his way over to another spot on the floor. He growled.
“What is it, boy?” Charlie asked.
There was a smeared stain on the concrete floor. “Is that…?” Charlie asked.
Sam frowned. “Yeah. It’s blood. Let’s not go making any assumptions.”
Duck continued sniffing around then barked.
“What have you got there?” Charlie asked.
Duck had his nose in a small wad of paper. Charlie walked to him, pulled a pair of nitrile gloves out of his pocket, and put them on. He picked up the wad and unfolded it. It was made up of a tissue, a cash register receipt and a crumpled business card—one of Declan’s. He showed it to Sam.
“There’s no other reason for this to be here. Someone’s taken Declan.”