A Dream of Death (Detective Lincoln Munroe, Book 1)

  “It took me a while to come to, and when I did I snapped back into my body. I fought the pain and found the source of the light: a hunting knife dangling from an invisible string over a human skull peering out from the dirt.”

  Kara shifted in her seat.

  “The next dream was similar except the skull had a message for me, “why?” written in blood on its forehead. The body had been excavated partially as well, and a rib and a piece of another were missing. After that I started hallucinating, moving into my dreamworld during the day sometimes.

  “When Chen called about the body found in Algonquin I somehow knew that was what my dreams had been telling me. He had called before, before I had the first dream. I forgot all about the call, someone had found the body but couldn’t locate it again to show the cops. Took them a while to find it again.”

  I took a sip of my scotch.

  “In my dreams I had seen the area the body had been located in, a river nearby. It had always started to rain in my dreams, from a clear sky to a downpour in seconds. I warned Chen about the rain and he laughed, said it was sunny. Turns out I was right, it was pouring when I got there.”

  Kara appeared to be having a hard time with this; the idea of precognition was something she didn’t believe in.

  “When we got to the scene the next day everything began to fit together. The body was in the same place I had seen it in my dream, skeletonized in a shallow grave decades old. When the anthropologist had cleared the dirt away I saw the missing ribs and I began to vomit. It was all coming true.”

  “That night I dreamed of two men fighting while I was lying on the ground in pain, my left arm broken. The injuries in my dreams, they were the same as what I had suffered when I fell down a small ravine on a camping trip with my father. I was eight at the time, he told me we had gone to Tobermory. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness in the dream, finally seeing the victor standing over me. I couldn’t see who it was but he reached out to touch me.

  “We went back the next day. No other evidence had turned up to that point. I talked to a park ranger who gave us a lead on the deceased—”

  “The public masturbator and pedophile?”

  “Yeah, said that guy had gone missing in the area in eighty-four and two kids a few years earlier. I was wandering around and saw something glimmering. I knew it was important so I took it, lying to Chen about what I had found. It was my father’s watch. LMIV, nineteen-seventy-six engraved on the back.”

  “Oh God,” Kara said.

  I ignored it, a vestigial saying and as meaningless as a gasp. “I knew what had happened. I had been hurt somehow, probably by the person my father was fighting and he killed him. His watch must have broken off in the fight. It was him standing over me at the end.”

  “Your father killed this guy?”

  “I think so.”

  “Even if he did, that guy was going to kill you and your father. Those missing kids, they’ve got to be from him.”

  I hadn’t even thought about that. How could a trained mind have missed something so simple?

  “Your father must have interrupted him, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Until he chose not to report it and buried the body.”

  “He was protecting you.”

  “Kara, if this comes out, what will they do to him? He’s got Alzheimer’s so bad he can’t remember anything. Jail would kill him.”

  “Then leave it, don’t tell anyone.”

  “And if they figure it out? And know that I knew? I’d be done.”

  She stopped for a moment, the thought obvious to her. How could someone who covered up a murder be a police officer? My job, my family, my life, it was all on the line.

  “I need to know the truth,” I said. “Once I do, I’ll come clean.”

  “I’ll be right beside you when you do,” she said and I knew she was speaking the truth.

  We sat for a while, unsure of what to say. I told her I needed to call Chen, to tell him about the missing kids. Kara brought me the phone and I dialed the number I knew by heart.

  “Chen.”

  “It’s Link,” I said, slipping into the name of my childhood before I’d realized it.

  “How’s it going? Heard you got your guy. Nice shooting.”

  “Thanks. Look, I want to talk about your case. Heard enough about mine to last a lifetime.”

  Chen apologized, sincerity in his voice.

  “Those missing kids the ranger talked about, have you looked into them?”

  “Same thought I had, Link. We’re pulling the reports right now. Should have them soon.”

  “If it was him, he probably camped in the same spot each year,” I said.

  “What’s your suggestion?”

  “You won’t like it.”

  “The mosquitoes will.”

  “Yeah. Get the team together again and head back up there, get some search trained officers and metal detectors. Hopefully you won’t need to dig the whole area out if the kids had metal buttons or anything.”

  “How wide?”

  “Start with a hundred meter radius from the body then move out from there, don’t cross the river.”

  “Saves some area. You coming to help?”

  “I’d love to Chen, but they’ve got me on leave right now, broke my ankle chasing Saunders down.” There was no reason for Chen to know about my mental instability.

  “Shit. You all right?”

  “Nothing a few screws and a plate couldn’t fix.”

  “Ouch. Oh hey, almost forgot. I got a hold of the old guestbook from the closest ranger station, looking at who had signed it around the time Jeffries went missing.”

  “Any leads?” I knew where this was going and I didn’t like it.

  “None yet, but your handwriting sucked.”

  “Seriously?” I strained to appear shocked. “Is that the summer I was there?”

  “Looks like,” Chen said, no hint of anything beyond mere coincidence in his voice.

  “Wow, almost forgot about that camping trip. A little hiking, a little fishing. It was a good time.”

  “Yeah, your dad signed it right above you. How’s he doing by the way?”

  “Not good, doesn’t remember me at all anymore.”

  “Sorry, Link. I remember him at graduation, no one else’s dad looked so proud seeing their kid in uniform.”

  He was right, my dad had been beaming. “Thanks, Chen. Means a lot.”

  “Anyway, Link, I’ve got to run. Still want me to keep you posted?”

  “Definitely. Thanks, Chen.”

  I hung up the phone.

  Kara looked at me, her eyes filled with worry. “He knows you were there?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think he suspects anything yet. Just a bizarre coincidence as far as he’s concerned. He already thought about the missing boys and is expanding the search. They’ll find the bodies soon, I’m sure of it.”

  Kara stood up and walked behind where I sat, then wrapped her arms around my chest and squeezed. “It’ll be fine, Link,” she said but her voice lacked the conviction of her words.

  * * *

  The house was empty when Kara brought me home that evening. Kat and the kids would be in the air right now, high above the Atlantic Ocean on their way to Warsaw.

  I tried not to think about it. It hurt too much. I had never gone more than a couple of days without seeing the kids, four weeks was going to kill me.

  Four weeks without seeing Kat on the other hand filled me with relief, we both needed some time apart—time to think about my mistakes and find a way to prove to her that they would never be repeated, and time for Kat to try to find a way to forgive me or at least to accept my transgressions.

  It was starting to get late and hobbling around on crutches was wearing me down. I decided to go to bed early, ready to face another day tomorrow. I questioned what the night would bring: a restful sleep or a return to my nightmares? I hoped for the latter, a chance to further understand w
hat had happened.

  As they say, be careful what you wish for.

  —27—

  I walk amongst trees, through groups of people who cannot see me.

  They are hard at work. The heat, humidity and insects wear them down. A red flag marks the grave where Jeffries’s body was removed. They are far from it, the search taking them further and further away from the empty hole.

  My eyes cast back and forth as I walk. I recognize many of the workers—the anthropologist, his students, Chen. The river rages in the background, filled beyond capacity by heavy rains. A voice shouts across the roars and splashes—someone has found something. I run toward the sound and find a man on bended knee, hands rooting through the dirt, metal detector on the ground beside him. I kneel down beside him and he continues working.

  I don’t exist. I am a ghost.

  His hand strikes something hard and he pulls it from the soil. He takes a tool from the ground beside him and begins brushing at the object, removing years of dirt. A toy car, red paint worn away and rust taking over. A Ford Mustang, 1967 by the looks of it.

  I remember the days as a child when my most prized possessions never left my pockets. Sometimes they stayed with me as I slept. The body would be found nearby.

  A quiet voice behind me catches my attention and I turn. A large oak tree stands among the pines and spruces, and beneath it are two young boys, sitting with their backs against the wide trunk. The lowest branch is just above their heads, bending almost to touch them before rising back toward the sky.

  The boys wave to me.

  They can see me.

  I walk toward them with cautious steps, a ghost afraid of other apparitions. I study them as I walk, their hairstyles and clothing remind me of my youth. They speak to each other in voices so low I hear nothing. I’m close now, only a few steps away. Their eyes meet mine, smiles on their faces.

  “Thank you,” they say as one.

  They fade into the air and leave me standing alone again. The searchers are still far away. I want to stay, I want to wait until they find the boys, but I feel myself being pulled away.

  —28—

  The clock showed 10:27 when I awoke. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept that late. The house was silent as I reached beside the bed and grabbed my crutches. The bustle of activity that usually filled the home was gone, and with it my happiness. I sat on the edge of the bed and mourned, wondering if Kat and the kids had arrived in Warsaw safely and if Link and Kasia were enjoying themselves.

  I needed to call Chen, to share what I had seen in a way that would neither alert nor alarm him. I pushed aside my moment of self-loathing, rolled toward the phone on the bedside table, picked it up, and dialed Chen’s number.

  “Chen?” I said, as I heard someone pick up. Didn’t even wait for a ‘hello.’

  “Nope, it’s Aidan.” He paused, looking at the display. “Uncle Link?”

  I had forgotten. There was someone else who called me Link. “Hey, buddy. It’s been a while. How are things?”

  “Good. School’s over and it’s summer now.”

  He was speeding up as he talked, his excitement getting the better of him. So much like Link.

  “Awesome. Maybe we can come visit you guys this summer.”

  “Really?” Then triple speed, “Can I talk to Link right now?”

  I almost said ‘sure.’ Then I almost cried.

  “Link’s in Poland with his mom and Kasia. I broke my ankle and couldn’t go this time. He’ll be back in a few weeks, then I’ll have him give you a call.”

  “Cool.” Bored now. “I’ll get my dad.”

  “Thanks, Aidan. Have fun.”

  The sound of the phone hitting the floor sent a shockwave through my ear followed by some muffled hollering from Chen.

  “Hey, Link. Wish that kid would put the phone on the table or the couch or something. You should see my hardwood. How goes it?”

  “It goes. You?”

  “Heading back to the scene in a couple of minutes, we’re starting the search after lunch. Couldn’t get the team out any earlier today. Any tips on the weather?”

  I was far from in the mood to deal with Chen’s quips. “No, but thoughts on the crime scene. Look for any sort of natural landmark, a large rock, an out of place tree, a hanging limb, something that would be around year after year. I have a feeling he buried the boys together, using the same spot each time.”

  “Okay.” I could hear Chen reaching for a notepad. Even with a memory like a bank vault he always made notes. “Anything else?”

  “You’ll have to go deeper this time. Jeffries wouldn’t have been in a rush.” The thought of his victims struck me, bringing with it the feelings that come from seeing a child’s casket. “And he wouldn’t have had to dig as large a grave. Whoever killed him didn’t have the time to dig deep.”

  Chen was scribbling, the notepad held close to his face. His pen was by far the loudest at college and it was a wonder his paper held up. Chen did everything with determination.

  “Thanks.” The notepad slapped on the table.

  “Good luck,” I said. “Bye, Chen.”

  “Have a good one, Link.”

  A knock at the door came as I put the phone down. I had forgotten—Kara said she would stop by in the morning to see if I needed anything. I didn’t think I would, but she insisted.

  But things had changed through the night. She was my confidante and my dream had left me with something to ask her about.

  I made it down the stairs by the end of the third set of knocks and unlocked the door. Kara stepped in, a bottle of Glenmorangie in her right hand and a six-pack in her left.

  My surprise was obvious, my confusion clear.

  “It’s your turn to sit,” she said. “I figure you’ll need a drink as well.”

  I had no idea what to say, possibilities ran through my head. Was it something to do with us? With the SIU investigation? Did the plane crash?

  When ridiculous thoughts took the place of reasonable ones, I decided to accept my fate.

  We made our way into the living room and I fell onto the couch. My crutches bounced on the hardwood floor and the sound echoed through the silent house.

  Kara came in a moment later, scotch on the rocks again. I’d have to break it to her at some point. Ice just diluted the taste, took away from the subtle characteristics of the single malt. I accepted the glass and Kara sat down on the loveseat perpendicular to the couch. Deep within was a desire to sit beside her but she had other intentions. She wanted eye contact.

  “Link, what I’m going to tell you I’ve only ever told a few people.”

  I felt guiltily relieved. It was about her, not about us or the investigation, and Kat and the kids were fine.

  “You shared what may be your darkest secret with me yesterday, I need to share mine.”

  I didn’t speak, I just nodded.

  “My mother was killed…” She paused, pain evident in her face.

  “I know, Kara.”

  “No, you don’t. I lied to everyone. It wasn’t a car accident. She was murdered. They never caught her killer.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said and reached for her hand. She accepted the gesture, holding tight.

  “I was six when it happened although my father didn’t tell me the truth until ten years later. She was beaten, raped, and left for dead in a ditch at the side of the road.”

  I had no idea what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ sounded hollow, but so did everything else I thought to say.

  “That’s why I wanted to become a cop, Link.” She took a long drink of her beer. “I only applied to the OPP, never even thought of working somewhere else. We lived in Dutton at the time. It’s still an open OPP case, a cold one now.”

  “Have you read it?”

  “Yeah, I pull up the file probably once a month. Nothing’s really been done on it in the eight years I’ve been on. They had a couple of tips come in, but nothing that panned out.”

  “They?
??re stuck.”

  “May never get unstuck. Every moment I have I think about the case, I review the details. I’ve followed leads off-duty, revisited the scene, followed suspects.”

  “You don’t have to tell me this, Kara.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve been holding it in for too long.”

  I understood that. It must have been how my father felt, a secret kept for nearly thirty years. To his benefit, he no longer remembered it.

  “What you did, stopping Saunders, what you think your father did, I hope someone did that to my mom’s killer. If they find him, if he’s still alive, I’ll probably kill him myself.”

  I placed my weight on my good leg and shifted across the gap between the couches to sit down beside Kara. I held her close.

  “That’s not you, Kara, you’re not like that. Line of duty, sure, but you wouldn’t hunt someone down.”

  “I wish I was as sure as you.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “For twelve years I’ve wanted to see his face, I’ve wanted him standing in front of me. Ever since my father told me the truth I’ve thought about killing him. I’ve killed him hundreds of times in hundreds of different ways.”

  “How does it feel?”

  “Wonderful. I visualize it and whether it’s quick or drawn out it feels good. How did you feel when you killed Saunders?”

  “Relieved. Forgetting about the other women, the ones he killed and was going to kill, he attacked you. That was enough for me to take the shot.”

  Kara looked up at me and I knew what she was thinking. I pulled myself away from her.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “If I kiss you I won’t be able to stop. I can’t do it.” I looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. “Kara, I have to get Kat back.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  “I do. We have our differences but I do.”

  “She’ll never accept you. Killing a man, sleeping with me.”

  “I know.” My hand rose to my face. “But I have to try.”

  “I hope you’re not trying just for the kids. We’ve seen too many domestics, too many people screwing the kids up worse by staying together for them.”