Hunter (6 page)

THIRTEEN

Jason

           
Yesterday
the trails were busy, but with the workweek starting today, they were nearly
deserted. The few hikers I came across were unaware of my passing. Most were
almost a mile away by the time I felt them. I could still feel echoes from the
runner I noticed on Saturday, but they were pretty faded, and I still wasn’t
convinced they meant anything. Private property signs were prevalent along the
edges of the trails where people had cabins or hunting property. It would be
hard to sort through them to find our killer.

           
If
he was even an owner. That he would be using property not belonging to him was
a little more unlikely, but it was still a possibility. If he watched the
owners enough, he’d know when they would be around, and plan his kidnappings
and killings around that schedule… but that ran the risk of having the owner
come back unexpectedly and ruin his plans. I shook my head. “No,” I said aloud.
Not likely.

           
The
clock was ticking on Shawn Henderson’s life, and I was no closer to finding
him. “Come on,” I muttered, punching the dirt in frustration. “Give me
something.”

           
The
runner was the only unusual thing, so I decided to follow his trail and see
where he’d come from before the echoes completely dissipated. It took about
twenty minutes to walk through the trails to where the runner had been, but I
still felt nothing abnormal about his tracks. Nothing indicating a follower.
Only that he’d run in circles, possibly around his own property.

           
I
concentrated my abilities on the edges surrounding the runner’s path, and
frowned in confusion. The edges were not the normal soil… My phone rang,
interrupting my thoughts. “Hello?”

           
“Jason,
it’s Scott Nickels. We just got a call from a hiker. They found Shawn
Henderson.”

           
My
heart dropped and I punched the ground again, causing it to rumble loudly.
“Where?” the word escaped through clenched teeth.

           
“Near
the creek about a half mile into the woods.”

           
“I’m
in the woods now. I’ll find you there shortly.” I hung up, not waiting for a
reply and not concerned that he’d think badly of me. As a cop, he would
understand.

           
Keeping
my power in check hadn’t been this difficult for a while. Events of the last
few days had brought my feelings of fear, anger and frustration to the
forefront again, and the powers I’d kept leashed for most of the last two years
were again straining to take over. I stood for a moment waiting for the ground
to stop shaking around me, breathing deeply and exhaling, my fists clenched by
my sides and eyes closed.

           
It
took several minutes, but I finally regained control. Notes from the previous
cases floated through my mind as I walked the trails back to the creek and the
body of my client’s son. I heard the scene before I saw it, and felt the
movement of several officers. My footsteps slowed. Honestly, there was no need
to rush to see my failure. Someone finally turned off the sirens, realizing
there was no need for them at the moment—all they had done was attract the attention
of hikers—but the flashing lights remained.

           
Crime
scene tape was already strung around the trees in a horseshoe shape around one
section of the bank near the creek. I stopped outside it and waited, watching
while Nickels and another detective I didn’t know interviewed a couple,
probably the ones who’d found the body, judging by the haunted look in the
man’s eyes and the tear tracks on the woman’s face.

           
For
now, officers taking photos and hunting for evidence hid the body, and I was
glad. Nickels and his partner finished their interview and he turned, waving me
in as soon as he saw me. I stepped under the tape and approached him, several
hikers muttering to themselves as they saw a random person allowed access.

           
“Detective
Nickels,” I said with a nod. Despite myself, my gaze shifted toward the now
visible body.

           
“Jason,”
he acknowledged. “Did you find anything out there?” he waved vaguely at the
surrounding woods, his voice hopeful. When I shook my head he rubbed a hand
through his hair. “Ah well. Guess it was too much to hope that you’d find the
original crime scene. This is just a dumping ground. Tons of evidence that the
body was moved.

           
“It’s
him for sure?” I asked, not realizing how much I wanted him to be wrong until I
asked.

           
There
must have been something in my voice, because instead of answering directly, he
waited a moment before speaking, gazing at me thoughtfully. “This isn’t your
fault, you know.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, and he nodded his
head as he spoke. “You found the link between him and the others…”

           
“No,”
I interrupted. “Sheila did. She pointed it out to me and I showed you.”

           
Waving
off my dismissal he continued, “Either way, now we know more about what we’re
dealing with. He was found holding a knife. The killer either didn’t notice or
didn’t care but there were some flecks of blood on the blade that we don’t
believe came from the victim.” His voice gained intensity as he tried to convey
some sort of silver lining into a tragic event. “We could have the DNA of our
killer.”

           
“Which
is only useful once there’s a suspect,” I answered pessimistically. A dead
child didn’t bring about much hope.

           
Nickels
winced, but didn’t back away. “True. But it’s something.”

           
I
met his eyes for a moment before turning back to the body. “I want to keep
working on this. For him, and for my client. I need to help find the monster
who took her son.”

           
“I
have to talk to the captain, but I could possibly get you hired on as a
consultant. Hold off on field work until I get you approved, okay?”

           
His
quick approval stunned me for a moment, but I nodded. Right now no one else had
been reported missing, so it was unlikely that I’d find anything the police
wouldn’t. “If you happen to stumble across anything useful, or if you think of
anything, stop by the station or give me a call.”

           
“Sure,”
I said meeting his eyes again. “Thanks, Nickels.”

           
Since
Saturday Nickels was being friendly, and not asking too many questions about
me. Either he finally figured out I wasn’t going to share my past, or just
decided to hold off until I was less on guard around him. Whichever it was, I
appreciated the break.
     

           
“Oh,
and Jason,” he paused as he walked away, turning back toward me. “Don’t be too
hard on yourself. Remember, we couldn’t find him either.”

           
I
gave him a curt nod and a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, but that didn’t
mean I would share my life story with him. After speaking to his partner for a
moment he returned to my side, watching in silence while the medical examiner
finished his on-site exam and approved the boy’s body for removal from the
scene.

           
It
was a struggle to keep my face impassive, and hide the turmoil I felt at the
death of the boy I was hired to find. I remained expressionless until they
started maneuvering him into the body bag. At that point, I caught sight of his
slit throat and began swallowing convulsively, clenching my fists at my sides.

           
“You
all right?” Nickels asked gently. From his tone I realized he wasn’t. No cop
was ever really okay when they saw a dead child.

           
I
debated about lying, but knew I couldn’t pull it off, so I shook my head. “Not
really, no,” I admitted.

           
Too
many bodies in my past; several of which had their throats slit. Erin was the
first that came to mind, and I flashed back to the day when Alice drove me to
the park to see her body; small and bloody. Dead before she reached her
fourteenth birthday. And we were the only ones who cared. Her street family.
Her blood relatives didn’t care enough to return the call I made after she was
murdered.

           
My
father was another—an abusive monster that I hated, but didn’t want dead; behind
bars, yes, but not dead. Jeremiah Mason—or Kindred, as I know him—took away
that option when he slit my father’s throat ear-to-ear. I hadn’t wanted him
dead, but I still felt a guilty relief that he was.

           
There
were other victims I didn’t know personally, killed in my name because Kindred
deemed them a threat to me. He sent me pictures of all of them. Their wounds
were inflicted with the same viciousness used on my father.

           
“Jason?
Jason!” Nickels’ voice broke through the blood rushing through my ears and I
heard rumbling and creaking as the big trees protested the grounds violent
motion.

           
“We
need to go! There’s an earthquake!” his voice was urgent, but not panicked. A
good officer who kept his cool in any event, he earned more respect from me for
that ability.

           
I
took several deep breaths and slowly unclenched my fists, so the violent
shaking slowed, and then stopped. I finally looked up at Nickels and saw that
despite his calm tone he was wide-eyed and a bit pale. “You okay?” I asked; my
voice hoarse and feeling like it hadn’t been used in days.

           
He
gave a short bark of laughter, shaking his head and looking around at the
slight chaos caused by my quake. I cringed slightly at the total loss of
control, something that hadn’t happened for quite a while. “You were the one
having a panic attack,” he said. “I should be asking you. I’m fine. Just wasn’t
expecting some random earthquake.”

           
I
nodded, feigning agreement. Although I hadn’t expected to lose control, so the
quake
was
unexpected. My gaze slipped back toward the M.E.’s van. “Hey,”
Nickels said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “This wasn’t your
fault!” he repeated emphatically. “Nothing you did led to this.”

           
“I
know. It’s not that.” I hesitated, and considered my options. I could continue
to let him stew and know nothing about me or my motives. Or could share one
tragic segment and give him a glimpse. He waited patiently. I sighed, rubbing
my hands together uncomfortably in front of me. “You may have guessed, but my
past isn’t exactly happy. A girl I cared about deeply was murdered in a similar
way. This,”—I gestured at the scene—“brought those memories out. It won’t
happen again.”

           
Without
looking at him, or waiting for a response, I turned and walked away. Nothing he
could say would make anything better.

FOURTEEN

Sam

           
Waiting for my brother to return home
was only bearable because there was someone else there to keep me company. Even
with his unquestioning nature, Jake started giving me sideways glances when I
kept looking up at every noise and shaking my leg, or tapping my finger
restlessly. “So, you wanna watch a movie or something?” he asked, gesturing
toward the TV, obviously trying to distract me.

           
“Nah.
We need to study, J. You need to do well on this test, or you’re gonna end up
in summer school,” I finished with a shudder of mock horror.

           
His
wide-eyed look of terror wasn’t as fake. “You’re right. Let’s study. I am
not
ending up in school this summer.”

           
We
continued quizzing each other for about an hour before Jason arrived home. His
emotions were evened out, but now he faced the exhaustion after the outburst of
his power earlier. His face was pale, and his hand, reaching back to close the
door behind him, trembled. “Everything okay, Jase?” I knew it wasn’t, but I
always gave him the option of telling me what happened.

           
The
brown eyes that met mine were haunted. They normally held only a hint of the
pain he’s been through, but the depth of emotion in them now was fresh, and not
yet hidden. “What happened?” I asked, losing all semblance of distance. “Can I
do anything?” Jake watched in silence. He didn’t know my brother well, so he
was unsure how to handle seeing Jason as he was now.

           
Jason
shook his head sadly. “Not really.” His voice was rough, and I knew he was
struggling to hold back tears.

           
“They
found him.” It wasn’t a question, but Jason nodded anyway.

           
“Yeah.”
He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. “I couldn’t help. Nothing I did
made a difference.”

           
I
allowed my gaze to drift away from Jason for a moment, giving a silent shrug to
Jake in apology for the awkward moment. “You tried. That’s all you can do. No
one in their right mind would blame you for what happened. Especially
considering you came in a week after his disappearance.” My voice was low,
urging him to believe what I said. “Go get cleaned up, and I’ll get something
ready for you for supper.”

           
He
silently did as I said, and I turned to Jake. “Sorry about that. He normally
isn’t home this early. Give him a little time to relax, and he should be able
to take you home.”

           
Jake
gestured toward the stairs where Jason disappeared. “What happened today?” he
asked softly, apparently a little apprehensive about Jason’s state of mind.
“Did it have anything to do with Shawn Henderson?”

           
I
looked up at him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. “You know him?”

           
He
nodded. “Most of the kids know each other here. He’s a nice guy. Did a little
assistant coaching for my baseball team last summer. Everyone in town knew
about his disappearance.”

           
“I
didn’t know him at all, but his mother hired my brother to help find him. They
found him today.” My voice was soft. Even with our experiences, it was hard to
deal with death. Jason especially would have a hard time, but I wouldn’t have
thought finding the body would be enough to cause the kind of meltdown I felt
earlier.

           
“Will
he be okay?” Jake’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. He was trying to stay
strong, but I could tell the news had hurt.

           
My
lips twitched upward at his concern. “Jason is strong. He’ll grieve for a
while, but he’ll bounce back. So will the town. I’m going to go make something
for him for supper, or he won’t eat. You can watch some TV if you want.” He
flicked through the channels a couple times before joining me in the kitchen,
obviously uncomfortable, but wanting to help.

           
When
Jason came back down he looked a little less traumatized, and a lot more fired
up. “I’m going to the station tomorrow,” he informed me. “Detective Nickels is
going to talk to his captain about letting me in on the investigation on a more
official level.”

           
His
drive was obvious, but I frowned. “What will you be doing?”
And will it be
dangerous?
I wanted to add, but couldn’t. Hunting down a killer always held
risk, especially without the protection of a badge. I knew helping people made
him feel empowered, and more confident. After being a victim for so much of his
life it was understandable, but, as his little brother, I had no desire to see
any more harm come to him. Physical or otherwise. And I knew he took a huge
emotional blow today.

           
I
also knew, even if Jake hadn’t been there, Jason wouldn’t have shared any more
about the experience today. Showing as much raw pain as he did today was
strange for him. He normally at least tried to hide it from me, always striving
to spare my emotions. My thought was that if he actually shared with someone,
his emotions wouldn’t overwhelm me as much. If they weren’t repressed, and left
to stew over time, it would be easier to handle. But I could be wrong. It’s
hard to say, since I haven’t had any opportunity to test the theory.

           
“So
what are you two up to this evening?” Jason asked after eating some of the grilled
cheese sandwich and tomato soup we made for him.

           
Jake
shrugged. “Just studying,” he said. “Sam’s better with dates than me, so I
wanted his help with the history test.”

           
He
smiled slightly, “Yeah, Sammy’s pretty good at remembering important information.”
I shrugged. In order to catch up with my peers after living on the streets for
two years, I needed to work hard, and learn memory tricks to allow information
to linger. At least long enough to pass the tests.

           
Of
course that didn’t mean I was completely caught up, but I was pretty close.
Close enough that the students I now went to school with had no idea I spent
two years out of school, or that I once lived on the streets. Even Jake didn’t
know, and he was my closest friend at school.

           
“Will
you need a ride home, or are your parents picking you up later?” Jason asked
Jake, while he finished his supper.

           
Jake
met my eyes, waiting for my encouraging nod before answering. “If it’s not too
much trouble, I could use a ride.”

           
“No
problem,” Jason answered, rising from the table to put his dirty dishes into
the sink. “Let me know when you need to leave. I’ll be upstairs.”

We nodded and Jason walked up the
stairs. He had a pretty good lid on his feelings at the moment, so I
consciously stretched my mind toward his to gauge how he was doing. It was not
something I did often, since his emotional state was so easily read most of the
time, but I was able to sense his anger about the day’s events.

           
Of
course there was some sadness for the loss of life, but anger was his primary
emotion. Shawn’s death dredged up the same sense of anger and loss I felt from
him when Erin died, and when he went with our friend, Alice, to the morgue to
identify our father. Although, his feelings for our father’s death were overlaid
with relief, so it wasn’t exactly the same.

           
There
was the steel edge of determination growing, strengthening with the power of
his anger, and I knew he wouldn’t give up this case until the killer was
stopped. All I could do was hope nothing would happen to him.