The Night Is Deep (A Liam Dempsey Thriller Book 2) (2 page)

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked.

“Just remembered there’s school tomorrow. I wish it was still summer vacation.”

“It flew by, didn’t it?” Dani said, turning to look at him.

“Yeah.”

“You know, it won’t be too long until baseball starts up again. I think practice begins in February or March,” Liam said.

“It’s like four months away.”

“But we’ve got Halloween coming up and then Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Dani said.

“That’s true,” Eric replied, brightening. “Hey, wanna go play catch for a little bit?”

“Sure, you need help with the gloves?” But Eric was already scrambling out of the truck and running to the house. “Guess not,” Liam said.

“How’s your stomach?” Dani asked.

“I’m more aware of it than I’ve ever been before, thanks.”

She laughed and reached out to hold his hand. “Today meant a lot to him. A lot to me.”

“Me too.”

“You sure we’re up for this?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I am too.”

“Just no more bungee jumping, okay?”

“Okay.” She leaned in to kiss him as her door was wrenched open and Eric threw Liam’s glove to him. It landed on his lap and Eric bounced in the space beside the truck.

“Quit kissing and come on, Liam, it’ll be dark soon!”

“Okay, okay. Wait, hold on,” Liam said, pulling Dani into an exaggerated embrace.

“Yuck!” Eric cried.

Dani and Liam laughed as they climbed from the vehicle and Dani headed toward the small, newly completed building set behind the garage. They’d had the studio built not long after she and Eric moved into the farmhouse. Dani hadn’t had to take a web design job in almost six months. Now she concentrated solely on her art and the various shows that she sometimes helped curate in Minneapolis.

“I’ll be in the studio finishing up that print,” she said.

Liam nodded as he and Eric took up positions behind the house in the well-trimmed grass. Eric paused, situating his left-handed glove beneath the stump of his right arm, readying it for the moment after the ball left his fingers.

“Okay, remember now, we’re not going for speed, we’re looking for accuracy, right?” Liam said, slowly dropping into a crouch. “Slow is smooth—”

“Smooth is fast,” Eric finished. “It’s starting to feel normal throwing with my left.”

“That’s good. I can tell even in the last few months that you’re getting better.” The boy shuffled his feet and arranged his mitt one last time before rotating through the pitching positions; leg rising, arm drawing back, ball flinging from his fingertips, as he fluidly finished the throw. The ball zipped across the space between them and made a satisfying snap in Liam’s glove.

“Nice!” he called. Eric had already shoved his mitt onto his hand and was crouched, ready for a return grounder. Liam marveled at how he’d adapted to losing the use of his right arm. Not only in his favorite sport, but in every aspect of his life. And the way that his arm had been taken from him, with the violent stroke of steel by a brother he never knew he had—the boy was a phoenix.

Liam tossed the ball back and Eric scooped it up, resetting himself for the next throw. They played until the sun had dropped below the land, setting fire to the rim of the world. When it was too dark to make out the baseball, they headed inside, Eric to the bathroom to get ready for bed and Liam to his study.

He shut the door behind him and sat at the desk built into an alcove in the wall. Bookshelves flanked the desk, their spaces filled with true crime novels, law tomes, and fiction by Lee Child, Stephen King, and Blake Crouch. Above the desk was a corkboard. Articles cut from newspapers hung from pushpins beside witness statements and official police reports. Each row was headed by a different picture. Most were of men and women, but there were several of children. The cold cases were his filler when requests for an investigative consultant were slow. And they’d been slow for nearly three months. In truth, he was comfortable with the pace of his career. Since he’d decided in the aftermath of Tallston to keep the life insurance money left to him by his sister-in-law, they were financially secure now. The farmhouse was paid off along with Dani’s vehicle and his own. There was plenty of money in the bank, and some earning interest in investment accounts. The security was something he was unaccustomed to—like having forgotten some crucial duty each day only to find out it had already been completed.

He opened the folder he’d been working on the day before. A man by the name of Dennis Sandow had been found in a drainage ditch outside a small town called Crenshaw five months ago. He’d been cut twelve times across the chest with a very sharp knife and then shot four times with a large caliber handgun. He’d been a husband and a father of two boys both under five years old. His killer hadn’t been identified.

Liam pored over the case: the facts, suspects, interviews, timelines, and statements all coalescing in his mind until it was a story without an ending. The tire tracks found leading away from the ditch were the most promising evidence since there had been zero DNA recovered from Sandow’s body and clothing. The tracks had been matched to a specific line of Toyo tires and the investigators had determined the wear of the treads belonged to a set that had been on the highway for less than three months, but a search of sales at local retailers had turned up no leads. Liam stared at the names and numbers until they began to blur. There was something beyond the tires that he was missing, that everyone had missed. No murder was perfect because the people committing them were just that, people. Everyone made mistakes whether they were taking an exam or planning the end of another’s life.

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear the door open or Dani enter the room until her hands touched his shoulders. Liam jerked, then exhaled, settling back into the chair as she rubbed the tense muscles in his neck.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.

“It’s okay. Just lost.” He gestured at the material before him.

“No headway?”

“None. How about you?”

“Got the print done. Cindy’s going to pick it up tomorrow. And we’ve got to finish school shopping for Eric. He’s still coming home with requests for different classroom materials.”

“Don’t they provide anything for kids anymore?”

“Budget cuts.”

“I guess. I can run tomorrow if you’ve got a list.”

She squeezed his shoulders and then slid her hands down his chest. “Suburban dad. How’s the first day feel?”

“Really good. Very right. How about you?”

“Same. Like it’s all falling into place.” She paused for a moment, kissing him on the neck before slipping onto his lap. “Are you happy?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Unbelievably. This is . . .” He looked around the room as the sound of Eric running down the hallway to his room echoed to them. Music blared and quieted. “. . . exactly what I wanted,” he finished. Dani kissed him long and deep, giggling as he began to run his fingers up the back of her shirt. She stood, slapping his hand away.

“It’s time to tuck him in.”

“Mmm, can I be next?”

“Come on.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

Liam sat for another minute at the desk after she’d headed upstairs, scanning the information one last time before staring into the smiling face of Dennis Sandow. It was a family photo, his petite wife by his side, their two boys, now fatherless, standing in front of them in matching sweaters. Liam sighed and stood, flipping off the light to let darkness reclaim the office.

He and Dani tucked Eric in together and Liam left to shower, while Dani finished reading a chapter out of Eric’s latest young adult adventure book. The scalding water was intoxicating and he closed his eyes as it loosened the muscles he’d used to play catch. Sometime later the shower door slid open and Dani stepped in behind him, her clothes piled beside his on the floor. He turned to her and they embraced, their bodies melding beneath the spray of water. They took turns washing one another, lingering on certain areas longer than necessary, and when Dani turned the water off and took him by the hand, he nearly picked her up and carried her to the bed.

They made love in the solid darkness, the half-moon beyond the window the only light. It pooled in silver puddles on their bodies, and when they finished they lay entwined, looking up at it, their afterglow surrounding them like the moon’s rays.

He slipped into sleep without meaning to, Dani’s breath steady and warm against his neck, the memory of her heat following him down into dreams.

The buzzing of some enormous insect woke him in the early morning hours. His eyes cracked open, almost expecting a swarm of hornets to be circling their bed. Instead, the cell phone drew his attention to the bedside table, its vibrating dance only visible by the border of light from its down-turned display. He fumbled and brought it before his squinting eyes, the number on the screen vaguely familiar. It was not yet four o’clock.

“Hello?” he said, voice thick with sleep.

“Liam?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Owen.” The man’s voice on the other end was more ragged than his own.

Liam sat up in bed, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, the immediate sense that something was very wrong settling over him. He and Owen hadn’t spoken in the last year, their sporadic calls having grown further and further apart in the wake of everyday life. “Owen, what’s wrong?” There was a sound like a cough that became a stifled sob.

“Someone took her.”

“Took her? Took who?”

“Valerie,” Owen choked out. His voice shook again. “Someone took my wife.”

CHAPTER 2

Liam finished packing the last of his clothes as the smell of coffee wafted to him from the kitchen.

He zipped his bag shut and tucked his father’s folding razor into his front pocket. He gave the room a final look and walked down the hall, stopping outside the last door. Cracking it open he gazed at Eric’s curled, sleeping form, his chest rising and falling beneath the blankets.

“See you soon, buddy. Love you.”

Liam eased the door shut and climbed down the stairs, setting his bag by the entry before moving to the kitchen. The sun was beginning its ascent, only the red edge of dawn slicing the darkness away in the east. Dani stood in her robe at the sink washing dishes. A protein bar sat beside his travel mug, which steamed like a chimney.

“I’m sorry you woke up,” he said, running a hand up her arm before sitting to put on his shoes.

“It’s okay. Just an early start on the day, that’s all. So how do you know him, again?”

“He went to the academy in Minneapolis and did a few months of field training after we graduated. We lived together for about five months before he dropped out of the program,” Liam said, lacing up his tennis shoes. “He loaned me some money a few times to get me through when things were tight. Great guy, one of my best friends back then. We had a lot of fun while we were in training.”

“Why’d he quit?”

“I think it was more of a rebellious stunt against his parents than a real career choice. His folks were rich. His dad was a judge; mom was an attorney. They had bigger things in mind for Owen than being a cop. He went to the academy to piss them off. When they were sufficiently angry, he dropped out and went to law school. He was a lawyer for five years and ran for the senate in the last election.”

Dani leaned against the counter, sipping her own cup of coffee. She tilted her head. “What’s his last name again?”

“Farrow.”

“Yeah, that does sound familiar. He didn’t win, though.”

“No. He went back to being a lawyer in Duluth and worked on a ton of community action groups. The last I talked to him, he was contemplating running for mayor up there.” Liam finished tying his shoes and stood, pacing to the counter and taking a drink from his travel mug.

“So he didn’t say what happened, only that his wife was taken?”

“He just kept saying he needed me to be there. All I could get out of him was that someone came into their house last night, knocked him unconscious and when he woke up, Valerie was gone.”

Dani stepped forward and kissed him. “Then you better get going. Be safe and come back to us, Mr. Dempsey.”

Dawn crept over the land in a film of gray, slowly pulling everything from beneath the blanket of darkness. Liam drove five miles over the speed limit on the freeway, stopping only once to fill up on gas and replenish his coffee. The gas station brew was disappointingly bitter after the smooth taste of Dani’s French press. He grimaced, swallowing another mouthful.

As the miles fell away the land began to change. The familiar fields and rolling hills gradually closed in, their edges hemmed with growths of trees. Soon the forests were broken only by the occasional town or home nestled within their folds, their shapes alien against the rural backdrop. The temperature fell the farther north he traveled. A sign appeared and faded that told him he was only a few miles from Duluth. Most of the trees along the road held armfuls of blazing leaves, some already-fallen foliage littering the ground like a thousand drops of fire.

The city of Duluth appeared opposite piles of iron ore and a littering of ships in the large harbor on his right side. The sun brandished its early light across Lake Superior’s surface in rippling waves that stained the water red in a blood-slick that yellowed closer to shore. Homes and businesses grew from a steep hill on the left, their shapes like the blunted teeth of some giant’s jawbone left to rot.

He knew Superior was much more lethal than it looked, the water having been the demise of many sailors over the years. He had heard its temperatures were so cold the bacteria that made bodies bloat and rise to the surface were slowed, earning the lake the oft-referred-to phrase,
Superior doesn’t give up its dead.
But Liam knew little more about the shipping industry that was the heart of the city’s commerce, other than if a person wished, they could travel from the Duluth harbor all the way to the Atlantic without ever leaving their ship.

He wound his way through the city, brownstone buildings sliding past the windows, the sidewalks beginning to crawl with those on their way to work. Traffic was light on the highway leading out of the north side and he followed the GPS set in the dashboard to the address Owen had given him.

The homes grew progressively larger with more intricate designs the farther he drove. The gates and fences became higher, their tops pointed, entrances locked securely shut. Ahead two police cars were pulled to the side of the road near a sprawling estate. The gate was open onto the paved drive, revealing several more vehicles stationed in front of a large home overlooking the glaring surface of Superior. The house itself was three stories and painted a deep shade of blue with white trim. A door that would have been at home on any English castle, complete with iron knocker, was partially open and two figures stood inside the house, their heads turning toward his truck as he pulled to a stop behind the last SUV. Liam climbed out as a woman stepped down from the porch and held up a hand.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, this is an emergency scene.”

Liam nodded. “I know, that’s why I’m here. My name is Liam Dempsey. Owen called me this morning regarding what happened.” He put out his hand. The woman stared at him for a moment before shaking his hand. She was short and solidly built with dark auburn hair and a round face that hovered above a black pantsuit. Her brown eyes assessed him in less than a second, recording and categorizing as she released her grip.

“I’m Detective Denise Perring. Mr. Farrow mentioned you’d be coming. Are you with the state police?”

“I was a homicide detective in Minneapolis. Now I’m a police consultant.”

She squinted at him. “You’re the cop from the Tallston incident, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but like I said, I’m not a cop.”

“Well, I can assure you, Mr. Dempsey, we have the situation under control at this time.”

“I’m sure you do, but Owen requested that I come.”

Perring opened her mouth to reply but a voice from the house cut her off.

“Liam, so glad you’re here.” Owen Farrow trotted down the steps and hurried to them. He hugged Liam tightly before standing back, holding him at arm’s length. Owen hadn’t aged a day since Liam had last seen him. His sandy hair was still parted to the side, though now a white bandage clung to the back of his skull, and there wasn’t a spare pound on his runner’s frame. The only other difference was the slight growth of stubble on his chin and cheeks and the watery quality of his bloodshot eyes. He’d been crying. “So good to see you.”

“You too, Owen. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

Owen’s fingers tightened on his shoulders and his jaw clenched, but he managed to nod. “Thank you for coming.” He turned to Perring who was watching them both. “Detective, I want Liam given all the authority of an investigator on your team.”

“Mr. Farrow, I can assure you—”

“And I can assure you, Detective, that if Liam is not allowed to help find my wife, the chief will receive a call from me immediately.”

Perring swung her gaze between the two men, then nodded curtly. “Understood. Can I suggest that we move the conversation inside?”

“Of course,” Owen said, leading the way.

They followed him into the towering home, passing several uniformed police officers who studied Liam with the same curiosity and distrust that had been in Perring’s eyes.

The house was immaculate inside, just as Liam remembered it from his brief visit three years ago. Rich hardwood floors ran everywhere throughout the home and each wall was adorned with minimalist paintings. Owen led them into a dining room that would have encompassed Liam’s entire first floor. A command center was being set up on the immense dining table. Half a dozen men and women were stringing cords to outlets, and computers sat on almost every available surface. The room smelled of coffee and warm electronics.

“Listen up,” Perring said, and everyone in the room paused amidst their tasks. “This is Mr. Liam Dempsey. He’s going to be helping us out on this one. Everyone will treat him as a fellow investigator, is that clear?” There was a murmur of assent from the task force and Liam felt his skin prickle as dozens of eyes focused on him. “Okay, that’s all. Carry on,” Perring finished. A middle-aged man in a smart, gray suit approached Perring, murmuring something Liam couldn’t hear before turning to him.

“Detective Rex Sanders, I’m Denise’s partner. Nice to meet you, Liam.”

“You also,” Liam said, shaking hands with the detective.

“Owen tells me you’re the best cop he’s ever known, but I won’t hold it against you.” Sanders smiled, revealing square, even teeth. Liam returned the smile then turned to Perring and Owen.

“So what can you tell me so far?”

“I’d like to sit down, if that’s alright with everyone?” Owen said. Perring nodded and they followed him past a high-ceilinged kitchen lined with expansive windows that provided an epic view of the lake. Waves rolled into the shoreline, breaking on the sand before sliding away again, their movement tireless. Two people wearing masks and latex gloves were kneeling beside a set of French doors leading to a covered porch. Neither of them looked up as the group passed.

Owen brought them into a spacious living room that held even more windows than the kitchen as well as a flat-screen TV that Liam at first mistook for a doorway into another darkened room. Owen sat on a white couch and motioned to the chairs opposite him. A low table separating them held four half-finished cups of coffee. Beside the table Liam spotted several dark splotches that had soaked into the tan rug. He shot a glance at Perring and saw she was watching him as they took their seats. Owen seemed to melt into the couch, his thin form becoming even more insubstantial as he settled into the cushions. Liam studied his friend, watching his hands, his eyes, the trembling of his lips.

“I’ve told this so many times it’s starting to seem like it isn’t real, like a story I heard from someone else,” Owen said, not looking at any of them.

“Just start at the beginning,” Liam said gently. “Tell me about last night.”

Owen sighed and glanced out the windows at the lake.

“I got home from work late, about eight or so. Since I officially threw my hat in the ring for mayor I’ve been working a lot of late nights. Val had dinner waiting, she usually does. We ate together and then sat down to watch some TV.” He paused and put a hand to the side of his skull, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I need something,” he said, rising to his feet. He moved across the room to a set of oak doors set into the wall and pulled them open, revealing a liquor cabinet. He poured himself half a glass of amber liquid and returned to the couch. “That pill the paramedic gave me this morning for my head isn’t doing anything for my nerves.” He took a long pull from the glass and rested it on his thigh, staring at a spot on the floor.

“You were watching TV,” Liam prompted.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “We were watching and then Val got up for something, ice cream I think. She asked me if I wanted some and I said no. Maybe if I had offered to get it for her things would be different.” He turned his glazed eyes to each of them, the hand holding his drink shaking.

“Keep going, you’re doing good,” Liam said.

“I heard something, a thump like someone falling, and I started to turn to ask if she was okay, but then it was like a car hit me. I remember seeing this table turn sideways as I fell. Then I was on the floor and I knew I was going to pass out, I couldn’t even lift my head. But before everything faded . . .” He bit into his lower lip and blinked away the solid layer of tears. “I heard her scream, and there was nothing I could do to help her.” He made the same coughing sound Liam had heard on the phone hours before, and covered his eyes with one hand. Liam rose and rounded the table to grip his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re going to find her and bring her home, okay?” Owen nodded, not pulling his palm from his face. “You sit here a minute while the detectives show me around.” Liam squeezed Owen’s shoulder one more time as Perring and Sanders moved out of the room and into the kitchen. Liam joined them and glanced around the space as the two forensic specialists pulled off their gloves and approached. One was an Asian man in his early thirties and the other was a woman who barely looked out of her teens. Both of them eyed Liam before turning to Perring.

“Anything?” Perring asked.

The man shook his head. “Besides the blood, only some hair but I’m guessing it will match both of the Farrows. We got some steel shavings outside on the porch but we think it’s from the door lock itself.”

“Blood?” Liam asked.

“A small amount near the hallway off the kitchen. We think it’s Valerie’s,” Perring said.