Midnight Sacrifice (8 page)

Plus, he had his assistant, but he might need another person in town to manipulate. He also couldn’t take the chance that the police would interrogate Mandy about him. He didn’t remember giving her too much real personal information, but he could have slipped in those more intimate moments. No question his memory was slipping.

No one must know that he’d been intimate with Mandy, that he loved her beyond all else, save for his son. Too many variables would be unleashed with that knowledge, and Nathan’s plan didn’t allow for variables.

Plus, he liked her knowing that he hadn’t forgotten about her. There’d been nights he’d hidden behind her house and watched her stare out her bedroom window. Could she feel the depth of his love from across the yard? Was she looking for him, waiting
anxiously for his return? They’d ended things on a sour note, but surely there was love for him burrowed deep into her soul. He turned to his assistant. “Beltane arrives in four short days. There is still much to do.” It was almost a blessing that he rarely slept now. “I need some things.” Nathan pulled a list out of his pocket.

“Where will I find stuff like this?” His assistant’s brow knitted.

“The address is on the back of the list.” The forest provided most of what Nathan needed. But since the police had confiscated all the treasures from his uncle’s collection of spiritual objects, a few specific items needed to be procured. Homage must be paid to the gods who would be asked to cure him and spare his son.

“You want me to steal these things?”

“Those things are sacred. They belonged to my ancestors. Think of it as reclamation,” Nathan said. “Besides, the power you wish to gain from the ritual comes with a price. No gain comes without sacrifice. It’s time you anted up.”

“I’ve hidden you for months. Isn’t that enough?”

Nathan dismissed his assistant. “It’s never enough.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Danny took the exit for Huntsville. On the country road that led into town, lunchtime traffic consisted of a tractor, three SUVs, and a few minivans. Irritation at Rossi churned in his gut.
Chill.
Begrudgingly, Danny admitted that the cop didn’t have many options. Budget dollars and manpower were limited. The state of Maine had tried damned hard to find Nathan.

Maybe he really was dead. Maybe Danny was just paranoid. Maybe some hiker would come across Nathan’s decomposing body this spring.

But something still felt wrong. The little antennae on the back of Danny’s neck had been attentive way before he’d gone to Iraq. Danny had always known when shit was about to hit, which was how he’d avoided juvie and jail for ten years of troublemaking. Except for that last time, when he had gone too far and gotten caught red-handed. That had been a game-changer. But then, everybody’s luck runs out eventually.

Just outside town, Danny glanced at his phone. Snap. He had bars. Last night he’d written down the number for the local pizza joint in town. A large pie would take care of lunch and dinner. He ordered, then turned the stereo volume up. The first drum beats of “Paradise City” emanated from the speakers. Danny tapped his fingers on the wheel. Green grass and pretty girls sounded like heaven.

Lights flashed in his rearview. Danny glanced at the mirror, then down at his speedometer. Nope. Not speeding.

Turning the stereo volume down to nothing, he pulled over and rolled down the window. A stocky cop in a tan-and-brown uniform stepped up to the side of the car. He removed his mirrored sunglasses and hooked them in his chest pocket. Under regulation short hair, small blue eyes glared down from a mean face. Danny bristled. He remembered this jerk from his last visit. Steroid Steve, aka Lieutenant Doug Lang, had been nasty to Danny’s sister. Sullivans didn’t forgive or forget when their siblings were concerned.

The cop leaned a veiny forearm on the open car window. “Heard that you were in town.”

Danny glanced down at the badge pinned to the cop’s shirt. It still read P
OLICE
L
IEUTENANT
. Despite the death of the former police chief, the town had chosen not to put Lang permanently in charge. Good thinking on their part, but it still had to sting.

“Just for a couple of weeks.”

“Staying at Reed’s place?”

Danny hated it when people asked questions when they already knew the answers. “Yeah.”

“Heard that, too.”

Danny waited. Cops like Lang rubbed him rawer than a fresh blister. Small-minded men exploiting their power.

Danny breathed.
Green grass and pretty girls.
His mantra had gotten him through two tours in the desert and one year of complete hell. Surely it could stand up to one giant asshole.

The cop flexed an oversize bicep. “Where were you this morning?”

“Just running an errand.” Did Lang know where Danny had been or was he fishing for information?

“You wouldn’t be thinking about digging into Nathan’s case, would you?”

“How the hell would I do that?” Danny flexed his sore hand. “The entire state of Maine can’t find him. No one even knows who he was sleeping with.”

Surprise flickered in the lieutenant’s eyes, but he blinked it away in a second. “Well, I’m not done with my own investigation, and I won’t tolerate any interference.”

Danny would bet a hundred bucks this was the first Lang had heard about Nathan’s unknown girlfriend. “I doubt I’d be any threat to your case. I hardly know anyone around here, right?”

Lang’s brows knitted. He tapped the window frame. “I just want to make sure I’ve made myself clear.”

“Crystal.” Danny nodded. “Are we done?”

Lang’s face pinched. “I suppose.” He stepped away from the car. “Just remember what I said.”

“How could I forget?” Danny swallowed his annoyance.
Green grass and pretty girls
might not cut it today.

Lang walked away, and Danny rolled up the window.

He turned Guns N’ Roses back to full volume and wished it was warm enough to put the top down. A little sunshine on his head wouldn’t hurt.

The cop car pulled out onto the road and drove off.

Why was the town cop interested in Danny? Weren’t they on the same side?

Whatever. Obviously the guy enjoyed jerking people around. Today, Danny was his choice puppet.

He drove into town and pulled into the mini-mart gas station combo. While he filled his car’s bottomless tank, he scanned the store’s interior through the plate glass. The white-haired clerk stood behind the counter. Two other people perused the trio of aisles, the red-coated real estate agent and a tall, lanky guy who also looked to be in his fifties. The real estate agent spotted him at the pump. She bumped the arm of her companion and nodded toward Danny.

Not in the mood to socialize, he was tempted to skip the store, but the thought of coffee prompted him to suck it up. Besides, the real estate agent seemed nosey. He bet she knew a lot of things about a lot of people. He strode into the store. She pounced as he grabbed a shopping basket.

“Mr. Sullivan.”

Danny looped the basket over his left elbow. “Ms. Fitzgerald.”

She gestured to her companion with the can of cat food in her hand. “Let me introduce you to Dr. Ian Chandler.”

“Nice to meet you.” The doctor juggled a banana, a granola bar, and a cup of coffee to shake Danny’s hand. “I remember your sister. Brave young woman. I hope she’s well.”

“Jayne’s OK, thanks,” Danny said.

“Glad to hear it.” Dr. Chandler set his items on the counter.

“Let me know if you have any problems with the house.” The real estate agent paid for her cat food and headed for the door. “Bye, Ian.”

Danny tossed pretzels and bread into the basket, then moved to the coffee station at the back of the store. The weight of the basket dug into his left arm. The elbow seized suddenly. Danny set the basket down. He pushed it along on the floor with his foot and carried his coffee in his right hand. Getting in line behind Dr. Chandler, Danny set everything on the counter and massaged his elbow.

The news played on a small television behind the counter. On the screen a reporter stood in the woods holding a microphone. A river rushed in the background. “Tourist Kevin Dougherty and his ten-year-old son, Hunter, disappeared this morning while on a family fishing trip. When last seen by his brother, Mr. Dougherty and Hunter were angling on the banks of the Long River. Local rivers are unusually high and swift this year due to heavy rains. This morning’s search of the immediate area yielded
no clues, except a pile of belongings on the trail that leads to the cabin. With no sign of the father and son, rescue crews are concentrating their efforts downstream, where the river empties into Lake Walker. This incident serves as a reminder to stay out of floodwaters and be aware of unusually strong currents. Mr. Dougherty is an insurance salesman from New Jersey. His wife and three daughters anxiously await news on the search.”

The reporter stepped closer to the camera. “This is Karen Stevens, reporting for Action-Packed News.”

Unease trickled down Danny’s spine. Tourists probably went missing every season. But as the cop said, disappearing people were never a good sign.

“You all right?”

Danny jerked. The doctor stared at Danny’s hands. The fingers were doing their thing again. Shit.

“Fine, thanks.”

“My office is right off Main Street if you need anything.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Dr. Chandler pocketed his change and stepped aside. But he didn’t leave. He waited by the door until Danny completed his transaction. They stepped out into the cool morning air together.

The doctor gave the Challenger a wistful whistle. “A car like that brings back a whole bunch of memories.”

“She’s a beauty.” Danny opened his car door.

“I was serious about you coming into my office.”

Danny studied the asphalt under his running shoes.

“Look. I’m the only game in town. I treat everything, and I’ve seen addictions before.”

Danny’s eyes snapped up. The doctor thought he had the shakes because he needed a fix? “I’m not an addict.” Danny shoved his twitchy hand in his pocket while the doctor gave him a that’s-what-they-all-say look. Danny sighed and pulled his
hand out. He pushed the cuff of his jacket up a couple of inches to reveal the edge of the deceptively thin scar that ran from his wrist to his elbow. “It’s nerve damage. Last year in Iraq, my patrol was hit with an IED.”

“Oh.” The lights went on in the doc’s eyes. He pulled a card out of his coat pocket and held it out. “Well, the offer stands; if you need anything, call me. My office is open until five today, but I’m pretty much available all the time.”

“Thanks.” Danny accepted the card.

Dr. Chandler walked toward a beat-up SUV. Danny looked down at the business card. The doctor had likely treated Nathan at some point. Dr. Chandler probably knew more about the residents of Huntsville than anyone else in town. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to blab on his patients, but maybe Danny could wheedle some info about Nathan’s family out of him. As Mandy had pointed out, Danny didn’t know squat about Nathan or this town.

Unfortunately, Danny’s statement to the annoying lieutenant was all too accurate. Danny had a better chance of winning the lottery than finding Nathan, especially without Mandy’s help.

Somehow, Danny had to convince her to work with him. She’d lived in Huntsville all her life, and she’d worked for Nathan part-time. She must know personal stuff about her former boss. Who knew what might provide a clue to his current whereabouts? Or who he’d been sleeping with.

Danny picked up his pizza and ate a slice as he drove toward the Black Bear Inn. Guilt twisted in his gut. Mandy was in for another reminder of the night she wanted to forget.

Mandy stowed the last clean pan and glanced at the clock on the oven. Eleven thirty.

The back door opened, and a tall, spare woman in her sixties let herself into the kitchen. Gray-streaked hair was pulled back in a severe knot from her ruddy face.

“Hello, Mrs. Stone,” Mandy said.

“Good morning.” The inn’s only employee, Mrs. Stone, closed the door with red hands that had seen decades of hard work. She stowed her handbag in the closet. “How many rooms today?”