With Silent Screams (9 page)

CHAPTER
10

Stratford, Maine. Now.

T
he drive from New York to Maine was long and not exactly exciting, but it was also without incident. By the time I’d reached the outskirts of the town, whatever energy I’d gained from Felicia was beginning to wane.

I figured I’d probably need to get some sleep sooner rather than later, but I also wanted to check out the house before finding a room for the duration of my stay.

I remembered the route to the house without problems, pulling up outside the old building with a little trepidation inside me. I seriously doubted that whoever had attacked me and murdered Bill was stupid enough to be staying in the first place I’d come to look. They clearly wanted me to be a part of some sort of game, and I doubted me finding them and killing them all factored into it. They might have been insane, but they didn’t appear to b
e stupid.

I switched off the Audi R8’s engine and stepped out into the cool Maine air, scanning the area around me just in case I’d been wrong about my assailants and they were indeed utterly incompetent idiots.

After making a complete circuit of the house and noting nothing of interest, I found myself looking at the imposing front door. The red paint had peeled off; like the rest of the house, it had been left in a state of disrepair. The grass was overgrown and dirt had blown all across the porch. The window next to the front door had been smashed long ago, showing one of the metal bars that had been fixed inside. They’d blocked escape and turned the old house into a prison.

I placed my hand on the door handle and twisted—it felt cold beneath my fingers—but the door was locked. The sound of a car coming up the driveway reached my ears just as I stepped off the porch. I made my way to the side of the house and waited to see who’d turned up.

I didn’t have to wait long, as the police car pulled up behind my Audi and two officers got out. The driver was an older man, probably mid-forties, with an army-style haircut and alert eyes that moved slowly over everything around him.

The second man was taller and skinnier than the first, and didn’t have his companion’s calm demeanor. He glanced around skittishly. It was possible he’d had too much caffeine, but as he was also much younger, the likelihood was that he’d only been a cop for a short time and was still nervous.

I stepped out from the side of the house and the officer’s attention was immediately centered on me.

“Hold it right there,” the younger cop said, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.

I raised my hands. “Not here for any trouble. Was just looking around. I don’t think the gun is necessary.”

“We don’t like people around here,” the older cop said. “What were you looking for?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words came out slurred and my head felt as if full of cotton wool. Apparently when
Felicia
said I was going to get hit when the energy ran out, she wasn’t exaggerating.

I only managed another step before my entire world started to spin like washing machine drum and I crashed forward onto the ground.

I woke up slowly, my brain registering that I was awake well before my eyes decided to bother opening. And once they were open, I decided I’d preferred it when I was asleep.

I was laying on small bed, in a jail cell that apart from the bed contained a toilet, a sink and a small barred window. Another identical cell sat next to mine, and three more opposite, with a short but wide corridor separating them.

“You’re finally awake?” someone asked as they entered the corridor from the set of double doors at the far end.

I glanced over and saw a young woman place a folding chair in front of my cell and take a seat. She had light-green eyes and dark hair that was cut to shoulder length, part of which was pulled back and secured with what appeared to be a chopstick. She had a metal bracelet on one wrist, matching the ring on her thumb, and her trouser suit was well-tailored and expensive. Her shoes, black Adidas with a white stripe along one side, went against the rest of the image somewhat.

“I’ve got a few questions for you,” she said as she sat down.

“Me too,” I said. “I assume I’m in the Stratford police station.”

“Good assumption. Your name is Nathan Garrett, yes?”

I nodded. “And yours?”

“Agent Caitlin Moore of the FBI. You should know, this isn’t an
I ask a question, then you ask one
type of moment. This is a
you’re in deep shit and should be telling me what I want to know
moment.”

“Okay, exactly why am I in deep shit?”

“You passed out in front of two officers. They thought you were drunk or sick or something. I ran your name and came up with nothing, so I got some friends of mine at the Bureau to do me a favor. Guess what came back?”

“It said I was innocent and should be allowed to go about my business?”

“It said they didn’t have clearance. Your name being searched on got them a phone call from someone much higher up the pay grade. They wanted to know why anyone was searching for you. Then I got a phone call telling me to leave it alone and forget I ever saw your name. Why would that be?”

“You don’t appear to be following orders very well. I assume my mobile went off not long after?”

Caitlin nodded. “They told me I was to put you on the phone; I told them you were unconscious in a jail cell and you’d call them back when you woke up. They were less than happy.”

“Was her name Olivia?”

Caitlin nodded again.

I’d put Olivia as the point of contact for anytime someone without clearance searched for my name in any government database. She gets a text telling her who has tried to gain entrance. To be honest, considering it was the first time it had been used, I was impressed it had actually worked.

“Who are you?”

“Open the cell, we’ll go to breakfast—I assume it’s still breakfast time—and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

“You could be a dangerous criminal.”

“Oh, yeah, good point. How about I promise not to kill and dismember you until I’ve had a cup of tea and some toast?”

“Do women often fall for your charms, Mister Garrett? Because they’re not going to work on me.”

“Okay, how about this? What do you actually have to hold me on? Drunk and disorderly? I’m pretty certain you have to let me go. And I’m curious, why did you get someone to run my name for such a petty crime?”

“First of all, you were up at the old house, and people in this town don’t like anyone snooping around Blood Red too much. But secondly, and oh so much more importantly, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Why wasn’t anyone allowed up near the house? And what the hell was Blood Red?
There were questions I wasn’t going to get answers for until Agent Moore actually trusted me. And I was certain that probably wasn’t going to be quick. Especially considering I was going to have to blackmail her. “That’s true, and I don’t
have
to explain why I’m in town, either. But
you
may have to explain why you were in a New York hotel, where the body of a Toronto cop was found.”

Caitlin’s mouth pursed slightly. “How’d you know?”

“Well, I could say that your eyes are quite beautiful and that shade of green is very distinctive, but we’ve already established that my charm has no effect. Honestly, your voice is the same. It took me a moment to figure it out, because we were on top of a building and you were wearing a balaclava, but your speech pattern is definitely the same. Sort of gives it away.”

Caitlin stood, removed some keys from her pocket and used them to unlock the cell door. “I’ve removed the weapons you had in your car, but I assume if I try and have you arrested for not having a permit, you’ll magically get one. So, I’ll make this clear for you. You don’t start trouble in this town. If you hurt a single innocent person, I’ll shoot you myself.”

“Fair enough, but I’m really not the bad guy here.”

Caitlin pulled the cell door open and motioned for me to step outside. “Prove it.”

Once I’d reclaimed my car and found that Caitlin had been telling the truth about removing my weapons, I decided to stop off at the nearest clothes shop and purchase a few pairs of jeans, socks, underwear, some t-shirts and a jacket. I also grabbed a pair of hiking boots similar to the ones I’d purchased the last time I was there. It was obvious from the glances and occasional whisper, that the staff was curious about who I was and why I was there, but they were still friendly enough and offered to help me carry everything to my car.

Once suitably attired, I made my way to the motel, the owner of which appeared to be a much younger version of the same woman who’d given me the keys the last time I’d been. I requested the room farthest from the entrance; I didn’t want too many prying eyes.

I took my bags into the room, which I was pleasantly surprised to find, had been refurnished and decorated with modern appliances; it even had wi-fi. Once I’d had a quick shower and got changed, I used Skype on my tablet to call Tommy. It didn’t take long for him to answer.

“Nate,” he said with a smile as his face came into view on my phone’s screen. “I was wondering when you’d call. Olivia was going nuts.”

Olivia, Tommy’s girlfriend and the mother of his daughter, Kasey, was the director of Avalon for the south of England. For a while it was touch and go whether she’d be allowed to keep her job, but after Avalon received a few phone calls from both agents who worked with her and a certain Hades, they decided it was better, and easier, to leave her in charge.

I explained to Tommy what had happened in the last fe
w days.

“Sorry about Bill,” he said when I’d finished. “You got any ideas who’s behind it?”

“Yeah, a few. Most of them involve Simon.”

“You’re going to have to see Galahad if you want access to him, you know that, right?”

“I’m hoping to put it off for a while. I’m going to go to the house and take a look around. Try and figure out what’s happening before anyone else dies.”

“You need my help?”

“I’m not sure yet; I’ll call after we’ve check out the place. Can you apologize to Olivia for me, I hadn’t expected anyone to run a check on me.”

“Ah, she’s just worried, she lost too many people last year, doesn’t want to add to that total.”

Before I’d gone to Canada to learn how to use my necromancy, I’d helped Olivia defeat a lich, an undead being of pure evil. One of her agents had been working for the enemy all along, which allowed the lich and his forces to kidnap Tommy and Kasey before attacking the LOA, or Law of Avalon, headquarters, killing a large number of agents in the process. We
re
-took the building and saved a lot of lives, but the weight of her people’s murder because of someone she’d trusted had rested heavily on her.

“How’s Kasey doing?” She’d been twelve when she was forced to watch the lich beat Tommy almost to death. She’d al
so pu
t herself between that same evil and myself, quite
probably
saving my life. After it was all over, she’d had some nightmares, and a few issues with trust, but she appeared to be
getting
better
.

“She’s good,” Tommy said. “She has a list of questions for you to answer the next time you’re back.”

As the oldest person Kasey saw on a regular basis, I was inundated with questions about every part of history she could think of. Some of the answers hadn’t been what she’d expected, but it hadn’t slowed down her need to know.

I laughed. “Tell her that’s fine, I look forward to my inquisition meeting.”

We stayed online for a few more minutes—two old friends catching up—until Tommy had to go. I told Tommy I’d call him later and signed off; it would be dark in a few hours and I wanted to get some time looking around the ol
d house.