Sound of Darkness

“Burning the midnight oil, eh?” Ragnar asked him.

“It’s one of those cases. Doesn’t let you go, you know?”

Ragnar walked around and sank into the chair behind his own desk. Mark had called and briefed him earlier—telling him about Boynton and the sketch artist and how they had easily found the man depicted in the sketch.

“You’re burning midnight oil too,” Mark commented.

“It’s one of those cases,” Ragnar agreed sheepishly.

“But you left the hospital.”

“Because Bruce McFadden arrived.”

“He’ll do until morning?”

Ragnar nodded. “Then Axel Tiger is taking over.”

“Great.”

“I had to tell myself the other officers and agents are vigilant. I don’t want anything to happen to our victims while they’re in the hospital.”

“I know.”

“And now?” Ragnar asked. “The guy in the sketch seems legit.”

“I think he was just a guy in a restaurant who happened to finish eating at the same time as Gary Boynton and Dierdre, and he just looked at a pretty girl.”

“Your instincts are good, but—”

“We checked him out. Unless a whole lot of people are liars, I believe he’s telling the truth.”

“And you still don’t like Boynton.”

“I don’t.”

“What about the writer?”

“What about him? You watched him all day.”

Ragnar shook his head. “I don’t know what to think yet. He didn’t kidnap anyone today—that’s for sure. He was at the hospital. The police are working with us. He has a tail. He’s staying at a hotel near the hospital. Under surveillance.”

“And he probably knows he’s being watched. Which brings me to a plan.”

Mark explained to Ragnar about Colleen’s sister, Megan.

“A civilian?” Ragnar said.

“But she’s a fan; she’s in love with the man’s work. That will be honest. She may be able to find out things we can’t.”

He nodded. “And Megan—does she hear?”

Mark frowned. “Does she have what Colleen has? No. Something different, but it’s there. And yes, she sees the dead. She makes an excellent editor because, according to Colleen, she knows what people mean when they’re speaking or writing. We all talk in circles sometimes. I guess she’s something of a—”

“Psychic?”

“No. More like a mental interpreter. There’s something jaded in me. I keep thinking one of these guys is involved. Of course, we can go back and investigate the cases of the girls who—who weren’t so lucky. But I could swear Carver was guilty in both those cases.”

“Emily Watkins and Lainie Nowak,” Ragnar said. “Yeah. But I think we need to talk to Carver again. See if he has details only he would know.”

“So, tomorrow, I’ll pick up Colleen and her sister at eight. We’ll meet at the hospital. Try to set Megan up with Brant Pickering. And then we’ll take another run at Carver.”

Ragnar nodded. He stood. “I’m really going to go home,” he said. “I suggest you do the same.”

To prove he agreed, Mark stood up. Red barked and leapt to his feet too.

“Even the dog knows you need to get some sleep,” Ragnar said, giving Red a good-night pat. “Then again, I never suggested either of us was smarter than the dog.”

Mark grimaced and nodded.

“All right. Tomorrow, then.”

They left the building together, Red trailing after them to their cars in the parking garage.

When he reached home, Mark noted it was eleven.

He usually slept in quiet.

That night, he turned on the television.

One thing about the news—it was dedicated and didn’t let any situation go.

Maybe that was a good thing.

The anchors on the show were discussing The Embracer case.

And just like him, they were wondering if the man arrested with a kidnapped woman in his basement was the one and only “Embracer,” or if there were others out there.

He turned the television off.