The Darkness Inside Us (A Detective King Suspense Thriller) (A Detective King Novel Book 3) (4 page)

I cross the threshold and step into the room, covering my face with my tie at the immediate assault upon my senses of smoke. The whole room is scorched, blackened and stained with smoke from what looks like a bonfire that has been made from the mattress of the bed. I immediately look up to the spots on the walls where the smoke detectors have been ripped off and shattered on the desk top. Clearly there was some premeditation here.

“Detective King,” White says to me, with his hook nose and his circular glasses that make him look even more like an owl. “We sent word to dispatch to contact you about this. I hope they got through.”

“Must have slipped their mind,” I growl. He never sent word to dispatch. Who is he trying to convince here? I know exactly what he is. He’s a vulture circling the inevitable feast. Mendez doesn’t see me wrapping up this case before I’m sent on retirement, and White and Landsmen are here to take up the torch once I’ve passed. Well, fuck them. “Damian Sullivan?” I ask them.

“Who?” Landsmen lifts his head from the corpse, a furrowed expression of confusion across his face.

“The victim’s name is Damian Sullivan,” I inform them.

“There’s been no identification found,” Landsmen informs me, leaning over the body.

What’s left of Sullivan is grotesque, horrendous, and haunting. It appears that he heaped everything he could onto the mattress before shattering the smoke detectors and setting it ablaze. Turning the room into an oven, he let the mattress burn to a crisp, leaving only red hot springs like a grill waiting for him. He didn’t get out of the bonfire unscathed. His entire naked body is covered in boils, peeling skin and ruined flesh. He must have started cooking himself alive before he turned around and jumped onto the bed, letting the last of the flames lick at him while the red hot metal springs dug, burning and searing into his flesh, overloading his nerves and eventually killing him. The smoke might have suffocated him, but there’s no knowing until Whitman gets a look at him. I look at the pool of blood underneath his limp fingertips, running down his lips and across his seared face.

“Another terrible end,” Landsmen says to me, like we’re walking the same path here. I shake my head at him. He’s so far behind that he can’t even watch my sweet ass sway anymore. I look at Damian and wonder who it was he was with last. I know that there’s probably no way of knowing, but from the looks of the way things are going, if I camp outside of Parker High School tomorrow, I’m going to get a glimpse at whoever my next suicide is.

His skin is cracked and separating all over his naked body, his ears shriveled along with his lips, his dick, and his nose. His hair has curled and melted and all that I’m looking at are the peeled back eyelids that are crispy and broken, dried eyes staring at me, half shriveled themselves. I look at the white teeth baring themselves. I can see something soaking up the blood that has pooled in the back of his mouth. I look at it and decide to fuck protocol. Reaching forward, I grab the tip of the paper between his barely parted teeth.

“Whoa, gloves, King!” Landsmen scolds me, but I could care less.

I yank the piece of paper out of his mouth. It’s drenched in blood that hasn’t dried yet, and I hold the crimson paper up and look at it, drops of blood pattering across the carpet, hissing as they hit the embers of the bed’s remains. I push past White, who is looking at me with a full expression of contempt and scorn as he too doesn’t approve of the neglect of protocol. I don’t care. This case is going to get lobbed at them once I’m gone. I’m going to have to retire, taking the secrets of this case to the grave with me, while these two jackasses are going to be left holding their dicks walking in circles, looking for a killer that isn’t there.

Spreading the note out across the top of the desk, I look at it and try to resist the urge to laugh. The only thing I know about this demon thing right now is that it doesn’t know that I’m on to it. It knows that I’m tracking it, thinking that it’s a killer, but it doesn’t know that I know what it is. It’s masquerading as a killer still. I look at the blood-soaked note, the Sharpie-marked words, boldly remaining on the piece of crumpled paper.

“Steven, I’m sorry for using people. The ones you love deserve better. Damian,” White reads over my shoulder. I read the words over and over again, knowing that this thing is wanting to play with me. It’s wanting to latch on to someone that it can mess with. That someone just unfortunately turned out to be me. I think about how lucky Evans was to send Owens packing. She could be in my position now, but she’s not. Thankfully, it’s me. Thankfully I have only so few in my life that I will regret losing. All I know is that this thing has a personal interest with me and I’m not going to let it win. “This guy has a hard on for you, King,” White says with a grunt.

“No shit,” I answer.

IV

I step out of the motel room, seeing enough to satisfy me for a lifetime. I don’t need to look at another dead body, another corpse that the demon can add as a notch to his belt. It disgusts me that there’s something out there that would take delight in not only doing this to another being, but rather that it takes pleasure in making that person do it to themselves. I scan the yellow line, a wall against all the gawking faces, all the macabre stares, and all the morbid curiosities staring at me with quizzical looks in their eyes. It’s a sort of curious hunger that gets under my skin, but this time, it’s something different. No, when I look in their eyes, in their vacant, hungry faces, I see a hundred different demons, all staring at me, mocking me. It could be inside any one of them. I look at them, wondering which of them the demon is, watching me work. It’s spying on me like some kind of voyeur, wanting to see what I do next before it takes delight in its next horrid act.

What’s its game plan here? If I fail to keep Kelly safe and this bastard ends up killing my daughter and she is planted six feet under, then I’m left broken, miserable, a husk of what I once was, and is that it? Is it going to kill me? Or is it going to just let me languish, lingering onward until I die an old, remorse-ridden man? Or is it going to jump into me, make me kill myself as well? What is its long game? There has to be something beyond either it kills me or I end up dead and bitter. Those can’t be the only two ends. Is there any stopping it? If not, what is the point? It has already won. Congratulations and let’s give the demon a round of applause. Then what?

Does it intend to just keep going onward until the end of time? Is it going to just keep killing, keep murdering, keep sowing chaos and sorrow? What kind of existence is that? I look at all of the faces and wonder what it’s been doing all this time. Where has it come from? Why has it come to this place of all places? I shake my head. There’s no way of protecting people from this thing unless we all agree to stop hugging, kissing, shaking hands, bumping into each other, or any other form of contact for the next year or so. I’m sure whoever the demon is possessing at the time couldn’t last that long. I mean, I don’t think this thing has gone more than a day inside of a host before killing it. This thing could really just end up dying on its own if that’s the case. I look at the faces. If I could get this bastard alone, boxed inside of its host, I really might be able to just end it.

Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I walk across the deep blue of the dawn light illuminating the parking lot. I look up at the sky, wondering if I should move somewhere cloudy and rainy. I could probably number the days of rain that I’ve seen under one hundred. I miss rain. It would definitely fit my mood right now, my paranoia and sorrow. I pass under the yellow line while citizens fire off questions at me like what’s happened, who the killer is, if I know anything. I ignore all of them, shoving past them, wondering if the demon is in me right now, thanks to them not getting out of the way. Would I even know? Did any of these people know? I blink a couple of times, stopping and thinking about David Marcus. He definitely knew. He definitely did there at the end.

I get back to my car and sit down in the leather seats, leaning my head back on the rest, trying to think of what to do next. I should head over to Parker High. That thing is inevitably going to end up there. This guy tended to use cash wherever he went, but I might be able to get Lola to do a search on his financial records now that he’s dead and part of an investigation. I’m sure that wouldn’t have held her up anyways. She’s some kind of prodigy or savant with computer type stuff. I look at my phone in the cup holder. I wonder if anyone has tried contacting me since I went in there and saw the seared Damian Sullivan on the grill. Scooping it up, I see that I’ve missed a call and that there’s a voicemail.

It’s from Kelly. I put the phone to my ear and listen for the voicemail. As I listen, it goes through the usual stupid information that I don’t care about. Finally, it gets to her and I listen to my daughter’s voice, recognizing it, but it still sounds so damn strange. I can’t believe that this is my little girl’s voice. Deep inside of me, I feel the sting of regret and disappointment with myself.

“Hey, Steven, it’s Kelly,” she starts off, like I needed her to tell me who she is. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve decided to take a few days off of work to deal with Mom’s stuff. I went down to the coroner’s office and saw her. It was terrible, Steven.” She pauses, choking up. She’s strong though. I can hear her gaining her composure, getting everything under control. “I’ve made arrangements with a funeral home. The coroner’s office isn’t going to release her for a couple more days, but when they do, I’m going to have the funeral at the Lutheran Church. If you want to come, you can call me to get the details. It would be good to see you, Steven.” I pause and think about that statement. It gives me just a twinge of warmth and hope. I haven’t seen my daughter in so long. I would love to see her face again. I would love to see how she’s grown in my absence, to see who she’s become. “Anyway, I hope things are well with you. Have a nice day.” It’s so painfully formal and awkward that it makes me cringe, but what do I expect? I only abandoned her because her mother wasn’t putting out. I’m the kind of monster that you can only be formal and awkward with at the best of times.

Ending the call before the automated woman can tell me that I have a bunch of undeleted messages that are about to expire, I hold my phone in my lap and stare across the parking lot at the mob that I’ve left on the heels of White and Landsmen. I’m glad to hear that she’s taking a few days off of work, but I know that this isn’t going to throw the demon off. It’s going to know that she’s not there the moment its host makes its way through the school, hunting for her classroom. Once it knows that she’s missing, it’s going to just keep spreading until it gets to someone who is close to her. I wish I knew if she had a boyfriend or someone like that in her life. If she does, that’s who the demon will probably go for. It’ll go for anyone that’s close to her and it’ll end up killing them along the way, adding them to the corpses in its wake.

I decide that it’s time to check in with Mendez. It’s been a while and I know that he’s going to want to have a chat with me. Honestly, I’m surprised that he hasn’t pulled me yet. Whatever he’s waiting for, I’m sure he has a good excuse for it, but I feel like my head’s through the hole and I’m waiting for the guillotine to fall. I dial the number for dispatch and wait for a single ring before it’s answered.

“Dispatch, how may I direct your call?” An unfamiliar voice answers. I curse whoever it is, wishing that it was Penny.

“This is Detective King,” I give her my clearance number and wait for her affirmation. She gives it after a second. “I need to be connected with Chief Mendez.”

“One moment, please,” she says while the call is transferred. I hear the dialing and I know that she’s sent me through. I’m just hoping that she’s sent me through to Mendez and not someone else to intercept me. I don’t know why, but I’m terrified that the Chief is avoiding me, letting me dangle like bait before he sends his strike team in to bring an imaginary killer down.

“Mendez,” he answers finally, in his harsh tone of voice that conveys that he’s all business and doesn’t have time to mess around with a horse that should have been out to pasture long ago. He’s the kind of man always on the climb, trying to get to the highest possible rung that he can master. I’ve never truly respected Mendez, but his ability to climb has been impressive since he joined the force.

“It’s King,” I answer.

“King,” he repeats my name, as if it didn’t come through clearly or he wants to remind me of who I am. “I just got off the phone with White. Impressive work with ID-ing the victim. Mind shining some light on how you pulled that one off?”

“I bumped into him when I saw David Marcus end his life,” I answer. “The bartender was able to ID him for me. Unfortunately, I got to him after he decided to throw himself on the grill.”

“Speaking of David Marcus,” Mendez clears his throat. “You are an eyewitness in his suicide. I’m going to need you to type up an account of the events from your perspective. Not that you don’t already know this, but get it down on paper sooner rather than later. Witnesses at the bar told Landsmen that David apparently knew who you were. I thought you said you never met the guy.”

“I hadn’t,” I stick my keys in the ignition. “But there’s always the internet. He might have looked me up when I called him and questioned him about Kate. Either way, he knew who I was when I found him.”

“And what exactly were you doing at the bar?” Mendez puts the iron to my face.

“I was going to meet with Kelly,” I tell him the truth. “I thought she deserved to hear about her mother face to face. But David interrupted that before it could happen.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Yeah,” I grumble, turning the key and firing the engine up. “I want a patrol car outside of her house, in case this asshole comes looking for her. He’s made it pretty clear that he’s out to get the people close to me.”

“Absolutely,” Mendez replies. “I’ll put two of my best outside of her house. Anyone approaching the house will have to go through them.” I take a moment to realize that this will do absolutely nothing if the demon wants to get to her. It’ll just go talk to one of the officers, make them depressed and then have the officer go talk to Kelly, shake her hand before going and killing himself. There’s nothing that will stop this thing unless I kill the current host without them touching anyone. “The forensics lab and the CSI lab have come back with absolutely nothing on the previous crime scenes. This killer is good. He’s keeping all fingerprints and DNA away from the scenes and off his victims. Honestly, they’re telling me that everything here is looking like it’s genuine suicide. This killer is probably the most terrifying thing that I’ve ever seen.”

“He’s definitely good at what he does,” I play along. I don’t want to give him any indication that I’m not tracking along with him, White, Landsmen, and whoever else they might have put on this assignment. I look across the parking lot at the swarm of people that are gathered around the yellow tape. This thing must know exactly what I look like, what I drive, and what my strategy must be. It thinks that it’s still ahead of me and has no clue that I’m closing in on it. I want to keep it that way. I don’t want to give it any kind of a hint or indication that I’m onto it. “Thanks for everything, Chief. I’ll keep you posted on anything that develops.”

“Keep safe out there, King,” he tells me before I hang up on him.

I don’t like lying to everyone around me, but sometimes it’s necessary. I need to get to Kelly or I need to get to the demon, either way, it’s time to act. I look over at the crime scene as the forensics team heads in with the coroner’s crew. They’re all in for a surprise. Hopefully they transport the body over to Whitman and give him something to do. Honestly, I don’t care about the dead anymore. I don’t need to know how they die. I don’t need to be told again and again that this is a very suspicious suicide. A dead body only means that the demon has moved on and that the fox has escaped once more, which means that the hunt is on. I get ready to toss the phone into the cup holder again.

It starts to ring. I look at it and see that Lola has finished with her assignment again. I can’t help but think about how this case seems bookended by Lolas. I flip the phone open and hold it to my ear, hitting ‘talk’. “King,” I answer.

“Steven,” Lola fires off excitedly, which means that she’s got something good for me. “So Damian Sullivan spent the night at a sort of teen club where he paid for a soda with a debit card. It wasn’t hard to find, but that’s the last place that he was before he died.”

“Give me the address.” I fish out a pen from my pocket and scribble down the address on a napkin in my passenger’s seat. Unsurprisingly, the address is near Parker High School. It’s not super close, it’s a few blocks away, but it’s close enough for me to suspect that Kelly’s going to have to wait. The demon has jumped to someone who is definitely going to be going to class soon. I look to the horizon and see the sun halfway over the horizon. This isn’t good. I’m going to need to hurry. “Alright, Lola. I’m going to head there right now. I’m hoping they have some sort of security system there.”

“I’m guessing so,” Lola answers. “It’s a club designed to keep teens from loitering at local businesses. If you get a whole bunch of teenagers together, then there’s bound to be trouble. That means they’re going to have some sort of video feed. If they’ve got video footage, shoot me a text and I’ll send someone over to get it.”

“You got it,” I tell her. “Just make sure you don’t touch anyone until I say so.”

“I’m not touching anyone even after you tell me it’s okay,” Lola shoots back at me. “I’m pretty sure that I’m going to need some serious therapy after all of this.”

“I’ll stop the bastard and then you can go back to touching people,” I tell her. “We’re going to find a way to stop this.”

“I hope you’re right,” she answers while I speed off, heading for the next twisted chapter in this investigation.

It doesn’t take long to make my way from the Gampton Inn to the teen club that looks like a warehouse that someone decided to make into a swanky dive for teenagers to loiter at until curfew. I don’t think it’s a half bad idea, I would just hate to work there. I park my car in the nearly empty parking lot, except for two other cars that I’m guessing belong to the manager and whoever is keeping an eye on the place before school gets out and they get flooded with hormone-laden, sex-crazed teens. I kill the engine and lock the doors while I walk across the cigarette-butt-covered parking lot, realizing I’m starving to death. I need to find something to eat soon.