Haunted

  The tall middle-aged man jumped right to it and grabbed two others as he raced into the city hall. In New York, a city worker would’ve told me it wasn’t his job or that I couldn’t tell him what to do. This was impressive.

  Sandy had complete command of the scene. She explained to some of the officers why they were doing the tasks assigned to them, such as keeping a list of everyone who entered the crime scene and finding out if any of the nearby buildings had a security camera running.

  Sandy turned to one young officer who looked like he had been in the military. He was lanky, with a flattop, and he held himself perfectly straight.

  She said, “I need you to talk to everyone in the bar and find out if anyone saw anything.”

  The young officer said, “Do you want me to talk to them one at a time or as a group all at once?”

  Sandy muttered, “God, give me strength.”

  I chuckled at the frustration that universally afflicts experienced police officers dealing with rookies. I volunteered. “I can handle that, Sandy.”

  Her smile was all I needed in the way of thanks.

  Inside the Bear and Buffalo Wings sports bar, most of the TVs were already turned off. A bored bartender watched a rebroadcast of a Red Sox game on the TV over the bar.

  A group of around ten people huddled around someone at a table in the corner of the room. As I walked closer, I realized they were all part of the group Sandy and I had talked to at the fire station.

  Then I noticed they were all listening to one person. He looked up at me with sharp brown eyes above a ruddy nose.

  It was Tom Bacon. Great.

  Chapter 77

  Tom Bacon didn’t waste any time when he looked at me and said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Helping Sandy figure out who shot your friend out there. But looking at this group, and knowing what you’re all riled up about, I have to ask one question.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I think I know the answer, but did you announce this meeting to the public?”

  Tom Bacon looked at me, his face flushed an angry red. “Yeah—on Facebook. Why?”

  “So if someone wanted to send a message, he knew exactly where and when all of you would be together. That was very thoughtful of you to inform him.”

  “So Dell Streeter is behind this.”

  “No, he wasn’t. I was at his house during the shooting, and he answered the door right afterward.”

  “But he had someone shoot Mickey, right?”

  I had already said too much. It was never a good idea for a cop to reinforce a conspiracy theory. Especially when the people putting the theory together were a bunch of well-armed crackpots who were already pissed off.

  Bacon said, “Well, what do you think? Is Dell Streeter behind this?”

  “The shooting is being investigated. The local police are doing everything they can.”

  “Just like they did when they were looking for my son? Just like they’re doing investigating his death? Remind me, Bennett. How far did you get on that case?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bacon. We really are doing everything we can.” What I wanted to say was, Hey, I don’t even work here. But I didn’t want to cause Sandy any grief.

  Then the big guy, Anthony, who’d accused Sandy and me of being crooked, stepped up and said, “Dell Streeter didn’t pay you enough to keep him safe at his own house.”

  Again, I bit my tongue.

  Anthony said, “We’re going to make you earn every penny of it. A good man like Mickey Bale is gunned down, and you won’t do a thing about it.”

  I said, “What do you think we’re doing right now?”

  “By talking to us? No one in this room shot Mickey.”

  “I’m trying to find out if anyone saw anything that could help us. Unless you have a better idea of what I should do.”

  The burly man said, “Go arrest Dell Streeter. That would solve everyone’s problem.”

  I didn’t want to tell Anthony that I was dreaming about the time when I could finally arrest Dell Streeter.

  Chapter 78

  No one inside the bar saw anything. No one inside the bar really wanted to talk to me, either. Another common experience among cops everywhere. All the witnesses had basically the same story. They heard a couple of shots, but when they made it out the door, there was no one in sight, and Mickey Bale was lying on the sidewalk bleeding to death.

  Everyone talked about what a great guy he was. That he was a good father to three kids. That he worked hard for Tom Bacon as a carpenter. Now he was dead.

  Tom Bacon told the crowd that I was at Dell Streeter’s house protecting him when poor Mickey Bale was gunned down.

  So much for private conversations.

  It was the middle of the night when I stepped out of the bar and found Sandy still directing the crime scene. At least the body had been removed.

  She laughed when she saw me and said, “Mike, I forgot you were still here.”

  “Story of my life.”

  “We’re getting a pretty good handle on this. Why don’t you go home to that family of yours? Maybe you can enjoy your vacation for a while.” She gave me a sly smile, and I had to chuckle.

  While we were standing there chatting, Tom Bacon and his friend Anthony came out of the bar and walked directly over to us.

  Bacon said, “Detective Coles, I know you’re a relative newcomer to our community, but—”

  She interrupted him. “Eight years. I’ve lived here eight damn years.”

  “But somehow you still don’t understand how things work. You’re a city employee. You need to start listening to what some of the city residents have to say and what they want you to do.”

  “Such as?”

  It was Anthony who answered. “Butt out of this Dell Streeter business. He’s an outsider. We know how to deal with outsiders. We also know how to protect our own.”

  Sandy kept her cool. But I still realized I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of her gaze. She said, “You’re right. I am a city employee. More important, I am a sworn law-enforcement officer. Part of my oath was that I would faithfully enforce the law. It didn’t say anything about enforcing it only when it was convenient.”

  I watched with interest as the two men just stared at her.

  Sandy continued, “I’m going to break that vow right now. I’m not going to arrest you for saying that you intend to assault or possibly murder a local resident. Dell Streeter has not been convicted of jack shit. And frankly, neither of you two assholes knows jack shit about the law. So I’m going to keep on doing my job and pray to God that you’re smart enough to stay out of my way.”

  I was afraid her speech impressed me a lot more than it impressed either of those two dullards. But it still gave me a thrill to hear it. She was as eloquent and tough as any cop I had ever known.

  Chapter 79

  I was beat. Beat like an old rug. I could feel our family van swerve several times on my way home from the scene of the shooting. All I wanted to do was reach the Ghost House in one piece and fall into bed. I was going to sleep through the day and night again. At this point, I didn’t care how many kids were in the bed. I just needed a few feet of soft mattress.

  There was no way I would ever complain about the NYPD and its lack of resources again. Every cop deals with shortages of manpower, money, and equipment. But compared to most, the NYPD had plenty.

  In a little town like Linewiler, having more than two things to do at once could be devastating. Trying to keep an eye on a shithead like Dell Streeter and investigate a shooting at a sports bar pushed their resources to the absolute limit.

  I found it hard to believe it was a coincidence that the man shot outside the sports bar was one of the vocal vigilantes who wanted to lynch Dell Streeter as soon as he had the chance. But there were no witnesses, there was no video, and there was nothing to go on. Just a local man shot twice in the chest as he was coming out of one of the town’s most popular b
ars.

  Sandy told me it was the first drive-by shooting Linewiler had ever experienced. One of the reasons she’d been brought in as the assistant chief and detective was to stay ahead of the curve on crimes like this. She admitted she’d become complacent in the years since she left New York.

  Now she was not only investigating the crime, she was also trying to teach others what to do in the future. I wanted to help, but at some point your body just shuts down. I couldn’t imagine anything getting me to move once I made it home.

  The sun was up, but there was an ominous line of thunderstorms creeping toward me from the other side of Lake Nim.

  I was a little surprised to see all the kids awake when I came through the front door. Chrissy and Shawna greeted me with their usual extravagant hugs, and the teenagers gave me a wave or a nod. About as much as I could expect.

  I made my way to the kitchen, where Ricky was flipping a pancake into the air from a frying pan.

  Mary Catherine came in from the outside door. Instantly, from the look on her face, I knew something was wrong. My first thought was Seamus. But the old man followed right behind her.

  She rushed across the kitchen and gave me a hug.

  Mary Catherine said, “I was so worried about you.”

  I sighed with relief. “From your expression, I was afraid something was wrong here.”

  “It is. Sadie is missing. Near as I can tell she left sometime in the middle of the night. Seamus and I have searched around the house and in the woods. If the kids know something, they’re not telling me.”

  Suddenly sleep didn’t seem that important anymore. I pictured the poor girl out on the street again. But why? She had to feel welcome here. We really did want her here.

  I started asking the kids. On something like this I knew to talk to them one-on-one. Just in case there was some sort of teenage honor involved and they didn’t want to rat on a friend.

  Ricky shook his head and said, “I haven’t seen her since last night. She wasn’t here for breakfast. I didn’t notice until just now.”

  I moved on, asking each kid. The order depended on location. As soon as I found someone, I pulled him or her off to the side and asked if he or she had seen Sadie or if she had said anything. They couldn’t know the danger she was in. All they knew was that this lonely young woman had slid into our family and now she was gone.

  Finally it was Chrissy who told me what had happened. She said, “I heard Sadie moving around in the middle of the night. She was on the cot in my bedroom. I followed her downstairs, and she told me I couldn’t come with her.”

  I held the little girl by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Did Sadie say anything about where she was going?”

  “She said she had business. Serious business. She said the cops would never be able to do anything about Bill Sweeper.”

  “About what?”

  “I think she said the man’s name was Bill Sweeper.”

  Then it clicked in my head. I felt sick to my stomach. She meant to say Dell Streeter.

  Chapter 80

  Just as I stepped out the front door, a lightning bolt struck near the lake, and the rain started to fall. The drops were so heavy they hurt my head as I rushed to the van. I wasn’t exactly sure where to look for Sadie, but I knew I couldn’t stay at home. I also had an idea she might be headed for Dell Streeter’s house. It was a crazy idea, but that would be my first stop.

  I didn’t know what Sadie thought she could accomplish by confronting the drug dealer at his own compound. But I couldn’t risk the possibility of a bad outcome.

  The downpour became torrential once I was on the highway, but there was no way I was going to stop. I could only see a few feet in front of the van. I pushed it anyway. A gust of wind shoved the van to the right. A clap of thunder made me jump in the seat.

  Brian flashed into my head. No matter where I went, there was still a drug problem that was affecting my life. It affected everyone’s lives, whether people realized it or not. And drugs were ruining too many lives. At least drug dealers were. They were a scourge on society. But the courts weren’t helping much.

  I called Sandy just to let her know what was happening but got no answer. God knows how busy she was this morning with the shooting and a crowd of vigilantes.

  I felt sorry for the little town. It was like the people here had put their heads in the sand so that they could ignore the world around them. Even Tom Bacon knew his son and others were using serious drugs. He dismissed it. It was easier to ignore the issue than have an uncomfortable conversation and take the risk that the boy would want to move back with his mother.

  Then there was the issue of that Texas jackass Dell Streeter. He played by a different set of rules. Whereas the people of Maine tended to be polite and considerate, Streeter had shown what being brash and bold could do. He saw a gap in the drug distribution network, a possible new market, and made the best of it.

  Drugs weren’t a problem in society, they were a symptom. A symptom of something wrong. I wished I was smart enough to figure out what that problem was and offer some solutions. All I was used for was to clean up the mess drugs often caused.

  It was hard to explain why Saint Louis had the most murders per capita of any city in the United States. Or why Baltimore came in second. But drugs played a huge role in that. So did gangs and a number of other issues. But drugs and money could always be found at the root of those issues. I saw it every day. Almost 70 percent of the homicides I investigated had something to do with the sale of drugs.

  We used to joke in Homicide that if a woman disappeared, all we had to do was arrest her boyfriend or husband and we’d have the right suspect 80 percent of the time. I was starting to feel the same way about drug dealers. If we got them off the streets, I wondered what the streets would look like.

  I hoped Linewiler could still be cleaned up. Right now, the only thing I hoped for was to find Sadie safe and bring her back home.

  Chapter 81

  As I pulled through the open gate at Dell Streeter’s compound, the first thing I noticed was that there were no police cars on-site. I figured the shooting in town had drawn off everyone. But it still seemed like a risk not to leave someone at the house, what with so many people in town screaming for Dell Streeter’s head.

  I stepped out of the van and surveyed the front yard. One of the cars that was usually there was gone. There were no bodyguards in sight. In fact, no one was in sight.

  The house looked quiet. There were no lights on. The rain had eased, and I crossed the yard slowly and took each step up to the porch carefully.

  Something told me to keep my pistol in my hand. I drew it from the holster on my hip and kept my hand slightly behind my leg. I listened for any sign that someone was moving around the house. Nothing.

  I had an uneasy feeling. The problem with being a cop for so long is that you get a lot of uneasy feelings. The issue is figuring out which ones to pay attention to. Some people call it being jumpy. It was an insult to call a cop jumpy. But that’s what I was at this moment.

  A sound at the edge of the property made me crouch and aim my pistol. It was a feral cat scurrying away from something.

  I paused on the porch and took a deep breath.

  I wasn’t in the mood for any of Dell Streeter’s bullshit. If he had seen Sadie, I was going to find out. If he had hurt her, he was going to pay. This was the simple plan that would keep me motivated.

  I leaned in and looked through one of the dirty windows. I saw no movement in the house.

  Then I heard it. Plain as day. A single gunshot from inside the house.

  I rushed to the front door. It was locked. I threw my shoulder into it quickly, then realized it was reinforced. It looked like it was flimsy, but it wasn’t.

  Frantically, I searched the porch for options. I grabbed one of the heavy rocking chairs sitting there and spun like Hercules throwing a discus. I threw the chair through one of the main front windows, then jumped into the house with
my pistol up.

  I was surprised how dark it was inside. I crouched low and moved to a wall so I could scan the area in front of me without worrying about being attacked from behind.

  I moved through the house with my gun up. There were three bedrooms. All empty. I had already been through the main room. I paused and glanced into the kitchen as I moved past it.

  I found one more door. It was locked. Unlike the front door, it wasn’t reinforced. When I threw my body into it, it buckled and broke into pieces. I stumbled into the dark room. I scanned it quickly and stepped back to flick on the light. It was an office of some kind, with a couple of computers. But there was no one there.

  Where had the gunshot come from? I had searched the whole house. Maybe it had come from outside. I started back through the house, fearing the worst.

  The idea of Sadie with a bullet in her forced me to move quickly. I had to search the house. I had to find her.

  I had to deal with Dell Streeter.

  Chapter 82

  As I passed the kitchen, I heard something. I froze and listened intently. The rain was down to a light drizzle. It was a steady drone on the tin roof, but I was still certain I had heard something.

  I stepped into the kitchen. It was empty. I had seen everything during my dash through the house. Lots of cabinets and the usual appliances. The kitchen was made to serve a lot of people.

  Then I saw it. Blood. On the linoleum near the sink. I dropped to my knee and touched it with my left index finger. It was fresh. It was wet. And I was worried.

  I scanned the kitchen quickly. In the corner, on the counter near the door, was a butcher knife. The last inch of the blade had blood on it. Someone had been stabbed, but not hard enough to send the blade deep into the body.

  That didn’t make me feel any better. The thought of Sadie with an injury from a knife like this made me shudder.