Killer Moon (Psychic For Hire 2)

“Where did Lowry go for his holiday?” says Storm. “Did he mention what day he came back?”

“He was in London. He had some personal stuff to take care of…” DI Zael’s voice trails off as he realizes this is not helping matters for Lowry.

“Look, it wasn't him,” Zael says. “I’m telling you. I’ve worked with the guy for near on three years.”

“We’ll find out when we question him. He’s gone to ground. I’ll let you know when I find him.”

“Where are you headed to?” DI Zael says curtly. “I’ll meet you there.”

Zael insists on coming. Knowing the sensitivities and of joint task-force politics and the highly-strung senior personalities involved, Storm grudgingly tells him the address. He warns Zael to tread carefully.

Storm arrives outside the run down old shop, windows now boarded up, and drives straight past it. If Sergeant Lowry is inside, he does not want to tip Lowry off by parking up directly outside.

As Storm parks his car some distance up the street he hears a police siren blaring. He curses. Moments later DI Zael’s car comes into view, sirens still blaring and lights flashing. Zael parks directly in front of the shop. The absolute idiot.

Storm races to the shop as DI Zael emerges from his car with his hand at his gunbelt. “Cover the back entrance,” he snaps at Zael as he runs for the front.

“I’m telling you he won’t be in there,” DI Zael yells at Storm’s back. “Lowry’s one of the good guys.”

Without waiting for DI Zael, Storm shoves his shoulder into the front door of the shop. It flies open. It wasn’t locked. Storm enters the shop, his flashlight in one hand, his gun in the other. “This is Special Agent Constantine Storm,” he calls, announcing his presence. No point sneaking around now. It could get him killed.

There is no response. Storm goes rapidly from room to room, listening for any sound within before he enters each door. At the entrance to the last room he hears a faint noise, like a voice shouting from very far away. He enters the room cautiously, shining his flashlight into its dark depths.

There is a cage at the back, and a figure inside it. From the doorway Storm shines his flashlight around the room, making sure no one else is in there before approaching the cage. Reassured, he shines his flashlight directly at the man inside. It is Sergeant Hank Lowry. He is yelling, but Storm can barely hear his voice. This must be one of those cages magically enhanced to muffle the sound of anyone within it.

Storm can see that Hank Lowry is handcuffed to the bars of the cage. He is squirming and writhing, but he is unable to escape his restraints. Even then, the cage door is locked. Someone wanted him well and truly tied up. Storm goes closer. When he is two meters away from the cage, Hank Lowry’s voice suddenly becomes audible.

“Help me,” he is yelling. “You have to get me out of here. She’ll kill me. She’s coming to kill me.”

“Who put you in here?” Storm asks.

“Sh

e’s coming,” Lowry yells. “She’s coming for me!” He writhes and kicks frantically with the urgency of his words.

Storm tries the cage door but it is locked. No way is anyone going to get it open without a key. He gets his phone out of his pocket. He is going to have to call for someone from Mystics to break the lock open.

“There’s no time,” Hank Lowry screeches hysterically. “You have to get me out of here now. Please!”

“Calm down,” Storm tells him.

“I did it,” Lowry screams. “I killed them all, okay? I killed those girls. I killed Rachel Garrett. I did it. It was me. Now get me out of here, please!”

“I’ll need a key,” Storm says dryly. In all of his career no suspect has confessed so easily. He only wishes DI Zael had been here to witness it. “A lock breaker will be here soon.”

“I wanted India,” Lowry moans. “I was so lonely. All I wanted was a mate. A pack. It’s not my fault. You have to help me. Please.”

Storm goes to the doorway to look for Zael but there is no sign of him. “Zael?” he calls. “Keep an eye on the front, will you?” If someone really is coming for Lowry, Storm thinks he had better try to get the man out of the cage.

Lowry is still kicking the metal of the cage sides frantically, pounding it, delivering each blow with the entire weight of his body, but not leaving even a dent. His face is awash with perspiration, his eyes wild. As Storm approaches the cage Lowry suddenly stops kicking. His chest heaving for breath, he goes still. He is staring at the door of the room.

Storm hears what Lowry has heard. The sound of multiple vehicles approaching, then parking up outside, their engines gunning loudly to announce their presence. There is a chilling victory cry in that sound. Someone has come for blood. Multiple someones.

“Fuck,” Storm mutters, dialing the number for back up, knowing that there is no way they will arrive in time.

Lowry starts crying. “Help me,” he whispers. “You have to help me.”

Chapter 28