Psycho Within Us (The Psycho Series Book 2) (56 page)

Spencer pulled out his cell and pretended to make the call, when actually he was pulling up the directions to The Heights on Fermilov again. 
Fermilov Prospekt
, he thought, glancing over the map. 
Here I come
.  He peeked inside the three squad cars parked in front of the building.  The first one he checked didn’t have the keys left in it, but the next one did.

The interns were still gawking at the hospital, huddling together to share their heat, when Spencer pulled away.  He glanced in his rearview mirror.  One of the interns looked over his shoulder, watched
Spencer go, but then turned his attention to the other squad cars now racing towards the hospital, along with what looked like a SWAT-style van.

Spencer thought about his pursuer. 
Good luck gettin’ outta there now, assfuck
, he thought, smiling.  Spencer messed with the controls on the console for a moment, and then spotted a spare police radio in the passenger seat.  He switched it on, listened to their chatter.  He also found the switch to turn on the siren.  Blowing through the next stoplight, he reached into his pocket to get the Demerol bottle.  He popped four pills and swallowed them dry.  Then he popped two pills of antibiotics.

“Okay,” he said, thinking out loud as he blew through another stoplight.  “Okay, okay, what next?
”  His head spun for a second.  “Fermilov Prospekt.  Yeah…
no
!  No, I need food. 
Food
.  Yeah, right, I need some O.J.  Some O.J an’ some
fuckin’
cookies.  That’ll hit the spot.  Then Fermilov Prospekt.”  He chuckled.

Then, Spencer’s humor died quickly.  He glanced in his rearview mirror, and saw no one chasing him.  It was over.  Almost as much of a letdown as it was a relief.  He tried to console himself with what might be waiting on him at The Heights, but…

His mind kept drifting back to that brawny blonde bastard that shot him.  He wondered if the police really would catch him.  A small part of him hoped so.  He hoped the bastard was sent to prison for a long time, passed around from boyfriend to boyfriend until nobody could tell his fart from a sigh.  But a larger part of him hoped the blonde-haired fucker dipped out.

Spencer touched his right arm, and winced. 
I owe him
.

The siren carried him through another stoplight.  But he knew that soon he would have to ditch the police car and get another ride.  As soon as they pieced together what had happened, they would start searching for the car.  If
Chelyabinsk Police were like most police back in the States, every squad car would have GPS locators in them.

Gotta switch it u
p again
, he thought, smiling again. 
Gotta keep ’em on their toes
. 
Wouldn’t be doin’ my job if I didn’t
.

Cursing his luck, Shcherbakov spotted the six police officers rushing down the hall, about fifty meters dead ahead.  By the look in their eyes, they had already determined he was a person of interest; maybe even saw the gun at his side.

When he turned down another corridor, he heard one of them yell, “Stop!”  He tried two doors, both locked.  All of them were probably locked now: hospital protocols at a time like this, an unknown person loose in their building, and now shots fired.  The
Grey Wolf fired two shots into the door lock, then kicked it in.  He shut the door and stepped through a dark room.  A man and his boy were standing frightened in front of the hospital bed containing an unconscious elderly woman.

Shcherbakov just pointed his gun at them and said, “Don’t move.”  He went to the window, fire
two shots into it, shattering it.  They screamed.  He cleared the rest of the glass with his elbow.  He looked over the ledge.  He was still on the first floor, and leapt over the windowsill into the thick decorative bushes surrounding the building.  He stumbled through the snow, slipped on the ice on the pavement, and recovered himself quick enough to dash across a parking lot that was quickly becoming wreathed in flashing blue lights.

The winds buffeted him, and before he could even
get halfway across the lot he was covered by thick snowflakes.  More sirens wailed as he stepped over a fence at the far end of the lot and came into a small forested area.  A short jaunt through it, and he came into the parking lot of a closed, dark shopping plaza.

Phone in hand, he called Zverev, who answered on the first ring.  “Yes?”

“He’s gone.  He’s gotten away.”

A long pause.  “This isn’t like you.”

“He isn’t like the others,” Shcherbakov countered.

Another long pause.  “Forget him.  The other woman is waiting for you.  We have confirmed it.  She has a room at
the Vidgof, just like our friends told us.”

“I can find him.”

“Not tonight, you can’t.  Not in this weather.  And not with what I’m hearing on the scanners.”

“You can keep the police off of me—”

“Not when it’s this hot, cousin.  Things have to cool down.”

Shcherbakov felt his blood boil.  Never in all his years had he failed his cousin, or any of his other employers, for that matter. 
Shcherbakov swallowed his pride, and glanced over his shoulder at the sound of more sirens.  Ruminated.  “All right,” he said.  “But you should move.”

“Why?” Zverev wanted to know.

“Because I don’t know where he’s going next.”

“What makes you think he’s coming here?”

“I can’t be sure, but he’s come after everyone else tonight that matters.”

Another long pause.  “I will make preparations. 
I think we’ll make for Location Green.”  Location Green was one of a few fallback spots his cousin had engineered in preparation for fallouts such as this one.  Locations Red and Blue were outside the city, but Pelletier had already shown proficiency in that sort of environment when he went for Zakhar.  Location Green was a fortified penthouse at the center of the city, not too far from the Hotel Vidgof.  “Just get clear, and let me take care of the rest.”

“Of course.  And cousin,” he added.  “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.  Nobody’s perfect.”  He hung up.

Shcherbakov looked at his phone. 
No
, he thought. 
But I was
. 
Before tonight
.

The Grey Wolf continued walking, down a sidewalk and across the street to an all-night diner.  He called a taxi service to come around and pick him up,
and then stepped inside to grab a cup of coffee.

14

Leon pulled into the half-circle driveway of Cartersville Elementary School and stopped just behind the only squad car.  He stepped out, had his ID ready—just a license and passport, his badge was gone until he could be reinstated, which wasn’t likely.

The two officers approaching him were white good ol’ boys, both of
them massive at the midsection, real contenders for the Bartow County Hotdog-eating Championship.  Leon hoped that Kaley had been exaggerating about the danger, because these two were nowhere near in shape to chase a child if they had to, much less stop a clan of trained Russian assassins.

“Mr. Hulsey?” said the largest of them, a bald fellow with a policeman’s mustache and a nametag that said he was Belle.

Mr. Hulsey
, Leon thought. 
Not Detective Hulsey
.  Perhaps they didn’t know his full story, but more than likely they did, and the “detective” had been excised on purpose. 
Not even a modicum of fraternal respect
.  “That’s me,” he said, shaking hands.  “I guess my guys gave you a call?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” said Belle.  “I think dispatch said
yer old station chief called, or some such.”

Leon nodded.  “I guess that’ll work.  You boys know the whole story?”

“We’ve been inside to speak with the girl and her teacher,” said Belle’s partner, the fatter of the two with bronze skin and a goatee.  His nametag read Graham.  Leon thought,
Graham and Belle
. 
I’ll bet they get shit for that from their peers
.  He suppressed a smile as he listened.  “They’ve moved the girl to the library and an officer is in there with her.”

Leon shook his head.  “That’s it?  Just a school security officer and you two?”  Graham and Belle both eyed him.  “I mean no disrespect,
fellas, I just mean that maybe your department isn’t taking this as seriously as they should.  We
are
talking about Russian Mafia, in case they didn’t inform you.  At least, a splinter group, but they’re every bit as violent.”

“We understand,” said Belle, in a way that indicated he didn’t.  It was just an old game of strutting.  Small-town cops versus the big-city (and disgraced) cop.  A game as old as playground antics.  “But one girl sayin’ she’s been gettin’ a few prank phone calls—”

“Kaley Dupré didn’t say they were prank phone calls—”

“—or whatever she’s been a-gettin’, don’t mean we call out the Secret Service.”

“The girl was frightened, and—”

“We have detectives on their way to speak with her,” Belle assured Leon.
  “They’ll talk to her an’ see what she—”

“
I spoke with her over the phone.  She says that these people want her and her sister, and that they’ve indicated it might be today.”

“Why would the Mafia call a little girl and taunt her with her impendin’ doom?”

The question had occurred to Leon, too.  And of course, it did sound a bit silly.  But the Rainbow Room hadn’t been any usual sort of organized group, not by any stretch of the imagination.  They had a twisted structure that had grown as a splinter group from the
vory v zakone
.  They had an Internet service that allowed child rapists to upload videos of themselves doing their vile deeds, and the more they made children suffer and cry, the higher member status they had on the website.  If some of them were still out there and angry at the Dupré sisters for helping to bring down their operation, who knew what sort of sick games they might play with a child over the phone?

All Leon could say to Belle’s
question was, “These people…aren’t human.  I don’t know how else to say it.  They’re the kind of people even other organized criminals want nothing to do with.”  Belle started to say something else, but Leon cut him off.  “Can I see her?  Can I speak to Shannon?  Just for a minute, to check on her, let her see a familiar face.  She might be a little scared right now, being shuffled around.”

“We were told that you were no longer an actin’ officer of the law.  So, I’m sorry, we appreciate the concern and our chief said thanks for the heads up, but I’m afraid you wasted a trip.”

Leon looked between Graham and Belle, then at the school itself.  The building was well kept, with shrubs hugging up against it, and a large sign out front announcing
BOOK FAIR FRIDAY
.  Leon glanced south, towards the bigger building of Cartersville Middle School just a couple hundred yards away.  Not a creature stirred.  A light, cold wind was blowing in, but otherwise, all seemed serene and quiet.  “Do you mind if I stick around?” he asked.  “Just in case?”

Belle looked at Graham, who said, “You’re not armed, are ya, Mr. Hulsey?”

Leon tried not to bristle too much at the question.  “I have a license to conceal and carry.”

“But that don’t float on school grounds,” Belle said.  “You oughtta know that.”

He did, he just figured a little professional courtesy here would give him some leeway.  Boy was he wrong.  “All right,” he sighed.  “Well, I guess I’ll head back.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Belle
judged.

“Boys, good to meet you.”

Leon turned away, and just as he did, he heard a tiny little whisper, “
Don’t let him near her
. 
He may stand in our way
.”

He turned back around.  “What?”

Officers Graham and Belle had just turned to go back to the front doors of the school.  Belle looked back at him and said, “Sorry?”

“One of you say something?”  The two officers looked at one another, shook their heads.  “Huh.
”  He took another look around.  “Well,
adios
.”

Halfway back to his car, something nipped at his heel.  Leon shook it, and
stepped into his car.  When his feet touched the pedals, they felt…wet.  Like he’d stepped into a puddle.  He looked down, saw that they were both bone dry, and then cranked up and started out.

As CES and CMS shrunk in his rearview mirror, Leon thought he heard something else.  Another teeny, tiny whisper.  “
Good
. 
He’s leaving
. 
Excellent
.”  Leon winced, looked around his car, then checked the radio to see if it was on and the volume was just low.  No, the radio wasn’t on.  And yet, the words still moved around him.  “
Keep quiet!  Keep quiet!  I think he can hear us!
”  Another voice said, “
No, it’s not possible
. 
The vein doesn’t open to him
.”  Then another voice, “
He can, he can, I tell you!  He can hear us!
”

“All right,” he shouted, pulling to the side of the road.  “Who the hell is that?”

Silence.  Just Leon breathing and the car grumbling.

Then, so very faintly he might’ve missed it if he hadn’t been straining his ears, “
I told you
. 
I told you he can hear us
…”

He blinked, put a pinky in his ear and shook it around.  Was he hearing things?

Leon glanced in his rearview mirror.  He looked back at the two schoolhouses.  Memories came back to him.  Images.  That night on Avery Street, when the rain had poured in sideways—lots of people had thought him crazy, but others were there that night, including Lieutenant Hennessey and his SWAT team, and they had all corroborated his story.  Yet still, no one had made much of it.

He remembered the story that Kaley and Shannon
Dupré had told.  A bizarre story, one that the child psychiatrist and the trauma therapists had said was conjured up out of the bowels of the two girls’ imaginations and trauma.  Strange stories about a devil house, and things grabbing hold of them, and snatching Officer David Emerson.  That had been the most disturbing part of all to Leon.  Emerson was a good cop, and had dedicated himself to getting Spencer Pelletier that night, but had vanished into thin air upon entering that house on Avery Street.

“
It swallowed him whole!” little Shannon Dupré had said in her second interview.  Leon had watched that at least a dozen times, each time feeling his heart torn from his chest.  The sound of her shrieking was inhuman, and the anger twisting her face was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.  “That house!  That house!  It swallowed him whole!  I saw it!  I saw it!  I saw it!  Ask Kaley, she saw it too!”

In another tape, Kaley
Dupré had spoken with tears in her eyes, though calmly, “It was me.  I did it.  They hurt Shannon and I didn’t know what else to do so I unleashed…it.”  The interviewers, a police officer and a child psychiatrist, had been there to press her on what she meant by “it.”  Again and again, Kaley had said, “They wanted to hurt us so I took that pain and I gave it back to them.”

Something licked past Leon’s leg.  He jumped a little, looked into the floorboard, almost expecting to see a snake, but nothing was there.

Then, he glanced up.  The wind was blowing harder outside, pushing leaves off of the trees.  Normally, that wouldn’t have alarmed him, but then he saw the pattern and stepped out of his car.  They were all falling from trees, caught in a gusty wind, some of them smacking against his face and swirling around him, but then carrying on.

The leaves were blowing sideways, moving north towards the two schools.

Deep, deep inside herself, Shannon felt something was
n’t quite right with the world.  It wasn’t just the fact that Officer Regus had come and taken her out of class and into the library, although that did play into it.  It was more of a feeling she got from someone else’s fear blanketing her.  It was a need to protect, and yet feeling she was powerless to protect.  A sensation she was familiar with, which originated with Kaley.  It traveled down their Connection, vibrating at such frequencies that it touched something deep in her mind and in her belly.

The librarian Mrs. Taylor had given her a coloring book to play with.
  Shannon thought this was kind of silly.  A coloring book?  She was nine, not four.  It had a few connect-the-dot and crosswords in it, too, but she’d never really liked those.

Shannon glanced up at Officer Regus standing over by the door.  She was a husky woman, a little fearful if Shannon was reading her right. 
Not afraid for me
, she thought, not just a little bitterly. 
Well, maybe a little, but mostly she’s afraid she’ll have to take action to defend me from someone, and that she won’t perform
. 
She’s afraid of failure
. 
She’s afraid she’ll be the useless woman officer everyone said she was when she couldn’t cut it as a regular police officer
.

The emotions told the story, not the thoughts.

The coloring book’s cover had the stamp
PROPERTY OF CARTERSVILLE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
; Shannon had even colored this in.  Wherever she found white, she colored it in.  Inside, the theme was America—Uncle Sam, flags, lots of stars and stripes, all things she was sure were intended to be heavily colored in the red, white, and blue.  Shannon liked red and blue, it was the white part she had a problem.  It was like a void that needed to be filled, and, like nature, little Shannon Dupré abhorred a vacuum.

She didn’t like the whiteness being left white.  It needed filling in.  So, taking the markers she’d been given by Mrs. Taylor, Shannon flipped to the blankest of pages, one of the connect-the-dot pages.  She selected a purple marker (that was her favorite) and started freestyling.

The marker drew the outline of a man.  He was tall and very proud, with wide shoulders.  She had no idea who this man was, but she was anxious to meet him.  So she filled in the rest.  As it turned out, the man was old and had a beard.  Kind of like Pan Lei, from her favorite movie
White Ninja Meets Shaolin Crane
.  Pan Lei was the White Ninja’s only friend, and the only one who knew his secret identity.

Shannon hadn’t revisited her old
hero the White Ninja for some time.  Lots of things had distracted her these last months.  Kaley had noticed this, and had told their mother, who in turn told that lady Mrs. Krenshaw, who bounced between schools talking to the children about the bad things in their lives.  Mrs. Krenshaw had asked Shannon why she didn’t like to do the things she did before, like watch
White Ninja Meets Shaolin Crane
, or play ninjas with her sister.  “Because I don’t like the movie anymore,” she had lied.  “And because Kaley is getting too old to play with me.”  That part hadn’t been a lie.  Kaley would play with Shannon, but because of their Connection, Shannon could feel Big Sister’s reluctance.  It was almost like the reluctance their mother felt when trying to muster up the courage to talk to her daughters.  Kaley wasn’t even really aware of it herself.

I’m a burden
.  It was a thought that came unbidden to mind, and she tried to banish it now.  The thought had become stronger in recent months, and on a not-quite-unconscious level, Shannon knew it.