The Fix Is In: Torus Intercession Book Four, page 16
“That’s where it gets weird,” he apprised me. “There’s no record of who reported him missing, just that someone did.”
“Well that’s fuckin’ great,” I groaned.
“The worst part is,” Rais began, “if Gage had done his job when Benji first reported, maybe Harrison wouldn’t be missing at the moment.” He glanced at Brasher. “This is gonna be a shitshow for you man, because you’re the one here now.”
“You have no idea. I’m sure I’ll be cleaning up Gage’s messes for the next year, if not longer,” Brasher said tiredly. “But at the moment,” he muttered, pointing over his left shoulder, “could you tell me why we have two men in custody?”
I gave him the rundown, and when Ramirez joined us after the other two officers arrived, Woosley and Tan, who, like Ramirez, had asked to transfer with their boss—apparently, they liked him—the four of us returned to the apartment.
Benji, Sian, and Delly were thrilled to meet Brasher and Ramirez. Saffron and Tara both latched on to the chief, and he assured them they would investigate until they knew everything that had occurred in their apartment and the rest of the building. Most importantly, he would, he told them, punish the two men to the fullest extent of the law.
The man inspired trust in the people who worked for him, as well as in the people he served. When he spoke to the two women, he looked them in the eye, and his words had weight. There was a quality in him that reminded me of my boss, and because of that, I too was impressed.
After he spoke, there was lots of nodding. They both wanted to hug him, then me, and while Ramirez returned outside to give instructions to Woosley and Tan, Brasher got out his notebook—he was old-school—and began gathering information from Tara and Saffron. Rais and I used the flashlights on our phones to check for cameras in the apartment, and while it would, of course, be swept by Ramirez when she returned, in the interim, I could at least report to the two women that there didn’t seem to be any. Dennis didn’t look like a high-tech kind of guy; he was more of a “sneaking in and out” kind of guy.
It killed me to think that all the women had needed was a dog. Not a big scary dog, even a small yippy dog would have kept Dennis on the other side of that wall when they weren’t there. My mother had a Chihuahua, a Yorkie, and a Pomeranian, and no one ever got in or out of our house undetected.
“You guys need a beagle or something,” I mentioned to the two of them.
“Yes,” Saffron agreed. “We’re going to stay with my mother until we move, but once we do, absolutely, no question. There’s a nice man who comes into the diner where I work, and he trains German shepherds. I’m going to ask him about one.”
It sounded like a good idea to me, and I was sure Mr. Kramer would be thrilled to have one of his dogs find a home where it would be worshipped by not just one, but two people.
I called Owen when we were done looking for cameras, and he had me go to my cloud and download an app he put there to sweep for listening devices. I was pleased that nothing pinged in the apartment.
Brasher and Ramirez easily found the entrance to the enlarged crawl space in Dennis’s bedroom in his apartment and were back there walking through and testing which other medicine cabinets were loose so Dennis and his buddy Cole could be thoroughly questioned.
“Hey,” Ramirez said and passed me a Nikon D3500 on a finely tooled leather strap. On the bottom of the camera, the name Caleb Harrison was engraved. “I think we have more questions to ask Dennis.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “we certainly do.”
Rais and I went with Benji to the police station so he could give a statement about his photograph of the missing Caleb Harrison. Sian had an appointment with her ob-gyn, and Delly had an interview with a college recruiter. She went to school half days in this, her senior year of high school, and they alternated between mornings and afternoons, which was why she was able to meet me in the parking lot the day before.
“You know,” Benji said as we were sitting in Brasher’s office, waiting for him, “when we were talking earlier, I think you thought I was kidding, but you truly have opened my eyes to something very important.”
“When earlier?”
“When you were saying that we should add a skeptic to the team.”
“Oh, yeah, you should.”
“I agree, and I think you should help me find whoever that will be.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You could interview our potential skeptic,” he said brightly. “You could find the perfect member for our team.”
“I think you’re more than capable of hiring someone.”
He took hold of my hand, lifting it into his and lacing our fingers together. “But I think if someone met you, they would take the position far more seriously,” he explained. “You should have seen how difficult it was for Sian and me to find Delly. Some real crackpots came in to interview when they thought we weren’t for real.”
“You and Sian had open interviews for Delly’s spot?”
He nodded.
“And you what, put an ad in the paper?”
Second nod.
It was like Jared with the YouTube ad. All the whack-jobs were just waiting to descend on him, and of course, Sian and Benji had been advertising for Egon Spengler’s job.
“It took us over two months to find her,” he murmured, leaning into my side and lazily rubbing his chin on my shoulder. He was so comfortable in my space, like the people in my life who trusted me were, and it was strange, since I’d only known him a day.
“I do think your input could be invaluable in helping us find a suitable candidate,” he continued on. “As soon as you figure out who’s trying to kill me, of course.”
“You just throw that out there so nonchalantly, like it doesn’t matter?”
“I know it matters,” he soothed me. “And I don’t want to die. I was simply stating a fact.”
“So now what?” I snapped at him. “Do you believe someone not ghostly is trying to kill you?”
“I think if, in fact, Caleb Harrison was murdered, then he’s not at rest and perhaps needs my help, so he’s not actually trying to kill me but instead wants me to catch his killer.”
“I––”
He put his hand up to stop me. “Therefore, yes, I believe that a human, not something spectral, is trying to kill me.”
Christ.
I was going to ask him who he thought it could be when the door opened and Brasher came in with Rodriguez.
“Okay, so for starters,” Brasher began as he took a seat at his desk, “Schmidt claims that he went in and out of all the apartments and stole everything from food and drinks to things far more valuable. If he was fairly certain the item, or items, wouldn’t be missed—he lifted it. And of course, he claims, no one misses food especially when you live with other people. You always think someone else ate it.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But that’s all he’s copping to? Stealing?”
“Apparently so,” Rodriguez affirmed.
I was relieved to hear that he was a thief and nothing more. I didn’t want to think of him and his friend doing anything more sinister to the women.
“You’ll talk to Saffron and Tara and explain everything?”
“I have already,” she apprised me.
“Thank you.”
Quick nod from her.
“As to the question of the camera,” Brasher went on, “Schmidt claims that he found it in the same area where you took the picture, Mr. Grace. It seems Mr. Lindstrom hired ten men to go up and demolish what was left of the place, which, judging from the picture, wasn’t much, and then they were to load it on a truck so it could be hauled away.”
“And the camera was found up there, but nothing else?”
“No,” Brasher said with a frustrated sigh, “but I put in a call to the state police. We’re working with them and officers from Gearhart, Seaside, and Tillamook, to search Mr. Lindstrom’s land to see if we can find any clue as to what happened to Mr. Harrison. They’re also bringing dogs with them.”
“You think whatever happened to him happened there?”
“I don’t know,” Brasher replied, raking his fingers through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. “But that’s all we have to go on at the moment.”
“What about Caleb’s family? Did you reach out to them?”
“I’m not gonna do that until we find out something one way or another. After Gage’s failure to start searching for the man as soon as Mr. Grace alerted him to the problem, I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up before I have something concrete to share with them.”
“Makes sense,” I agreed.
“I’m so sorry,” Benji said hoarsely. “Sorry for you and his family.”
Brasher nodded and shifted in his seat before picking up a pair of glasses from his desk and putting them on. “I’m going to record your statement, Mr. Grace, and type my notes at the same time. Is that all right with you?”
“Of course,” Benji answered, still leaning on me.
Brasher put a small recorder down in front of Benji and stated the date and time and who was in attendance, for the record. “And now, Mr. Grace, would you please relate to me everything you can remember about the day you saw Caleb Harrison in the woods.”
I sat and listened to Benji explain that he’d gone for a walk in the woods after visiting his friend Harold. He’d been with David Cotton, the mayor’s son, and Javier Vega, David’s boyfriend, who owned the brewery.
“Did they see Caleb?”
“I don’t think so,” Benji told him.
Brasher had Rodriguez put in a call to both men.
Once Benji was finally done with his exposition, Brasher wanted to talk about the intruder I had seen at Benji’s house the day before.
It was well after two by the time we were done, and then we had to adjourn to a small conference room when David Cotton and Javier Vega showed up.
David looked like I imagined a mayor’s son would. He was average: light brown hair, blue eyes, freckles across the bridge of his nose, and a ready smile for everyone. His boyfriend, on the other hand, was stunning: square-jawed, with dark brown-black eyes and light tan skin. He exuded the same sort of muscular sensuality as Rais.
Before we took our seats, David slipped around the long table to offer me his hand.
“David Cotton,” he informed me, smiling, “and you must be the bodyguard Sian told me all about.”
“Shaw James,” I stated, shaking his hand and then taking Vega’s. “Pleasure.”
“Javier Vega.” He pulled out the chair beside him so Cotton could sit down. “It’s good to know someone is finally looking out for Benji.”
“Agreed,” David added. “God knows Gage wasn’t doing shit about the incidents.”
Benji shook his head. “You’re making it sound so––”
“Because it was a big deal, no matter what you keep telling yourself,” Javier warned him. “After the attack behind the pub, I don’t know how you even go anywhere by yourself now.”
“What happened behind the pub?” Rodriguez asked Javier.
“I told all of this to Gage,” Javier told her. “He at least took my statement.”
“Be that as it may, I’d like you to tell us again so we don’t have to go searching for something that, knowing what we know about Gage, may not exist.” It was an order, not a request, though Rodriguez somehow softened it.
Javier explained that Gage had blamed the incident on a transient moving through town, but the way Benji was attacked and his parka shredded left no doubt in anyone’s mind that someone had been trying to stab him to death.
“I didn’t even know it was Benji until after I reached him.”
“So you saw what you thought was two men fighting behind the pub?” I asked him.
“There’s like an, I don’t know, an alley I guess you could call it, behind the pub, so on the left is the brick building, and on the right is a chain-link fence. I saw two men rolling around on the ground, and I ran toward them. When I was close enough, I finally heard a scream for help, and I yelled. That was when the guy attacking Benji got up and took off.”
I turned to look at the man I was there to protect.
“What? What do you want me to say?”
“Why weren’t you screaming your ass off the whole time?” I growled at him.
“The man was sitting on my chest. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs to scream.”
“And you never got a look at his face?” Brasher questioned.
Benji shook his head. “It was at night, and he was wearing a dark-colored ski mask. I didn’t even get a good look at his eyes.”
“Do you still have the coat?” Brasher wanted to know.
Benji shook his head. “No. It was in Sian’s car, but someone broke in and took our night-vision camera and the parka.”
“A night-vision camera and a shredded parka?” Rais recapped, looking pointedly at Benji. “Do you think maybe the night-vision camera was taken so it wouldn’t look suspicious if someone snatched the coat but nothing else?”
“That’s what Sian said,” Benji conceded. “It was an old camera held together with duct tape, but someone grabbed it anyway. What they wanted was the parka.”
“Makes sense,” Brasher snapped, staring at him. “Did you report that to Gage as well?”
“Sure. But he told us that finding the camera would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. He said the only way it was ever going to turn up would be in one of the pawn shops in town.”
“And did it ever turn up?”
“No.”
“How did you get away?”
“I remember thinking that if I tried to fight the guy, he was going to put that knife in me, so I twisted and rolled and did everything I could to get free.”
“Jesus,” I husked out, and Benji, who was still holding my hand, squeezed tight, but he held Brasher’s gaze.
“I never once stopped moving, and I was wrapped in so many layers that it was hard for him to get a good hold of me.”
“How?” Brasher pressed. I knew it was Gage he was frustrated with, not Benji, but I still bristled at his tone. “You’re not a big guy, Mr. Grace, and––”
“Call me Benji, please,” he insisted. “And yes, I’m aware, but remember, it was dark and raining, and I thrashed around enough that I eventually bucked him off so I could finally scream, and then Javier came along. I don’t know how, but I ended up without a scratch on me.”
“You’re kidding,” Brasher huffed, turning to Javier.
“Not a single one,” Javier seconded. “If you’d seen the parka, the stuffing was—but somehow Benji was fine.”
Brasher shook his head and stared at Benji a moment before reiterating, “Someone tried to stab you to death, and you came away unscathed.”
Benji nodded, smiling at him.
“I second your Jesus,” Brasher told me.
“He’s been extremely fuckin’ lucky up to this point,” Javier assured me, meeting my gaze, “which is why I’m so glad to hear you’re here to protect him.”
“Especially since Gage was worthless.” Brasher bit out the words, squinting at Benji. “What other incidents have you encountered, Mr. Grace?”
“Benji,” he corrected.
“Benji,” Brasher repeated.
Quick shrug as he winced. “Um, David and I got stranded at the cemetery.”
“I’m sorry?” Brasher sounded like he was in pain.
“Well, you see––”
“Wait,” Brasher interrupted, looking across the table at David. “I’d like to hear this from you, Mr. Cotton, if you’d be so kind.”
Benji tended to ramble a bit, so I understood.
“Yes, of course,” David agreed. “Benji wanted to go out to this older cemetery in Gearhart to do some research. Everything was fine, he finished up, and we were ready to leave, but then the car wouldn’t start.” David leaned forward in his chair, getting into the telling. “And I checked all the usual suspects, gas, battery, spark plugs, but they were all good.”
“What did you finally determine the problem was?” Brasher pressed him.
“The distributor cap was missing.”
“Missing?” Brasher almost yelled.
David nodded.
“Like it disappeared into thin air.”
Second nod.
“And you noticed no one else in the cemetery with you?”
“Nope. Therein lies the mystery,” David acknowledged. “Obviously it had to have been there in order for us to drive to the graveyard, so the only logical conclusion is that somebody stole it while we were walking around.”
He turned to Benji. “And you didn’t see anybody either?”
Benji shook his head.
“What happened next?”
“I called Javier and waited at the entrance for him while Benji used the time productively.”
“The hell does that mean?” Brasher snapped at Benji.
“What? Why are you mad?”
“Because you should’ve stayed with David instead of, I dunno, traipsing around a graveyard alone. And you went at night, didn’t you? I’m betting it was after dark.”
“It was,” Benji acknowledged, “but Chief Brasher, you have to understand that sitting around doing nothing would have been a terrible waste of time. It was far better for me to get more research done on some of the inhabitants of the older part of the cemetery.”
Brasher growled again and returned his attention to David. “So you’re at the front entrance, and Benji’s walking around alone.”
David nodded.
“What happened next?” I asked softly, easing my hand free of Benji’s so I could put my arm around his shoulders.
“Nothing,” Benji assured me. “It was fine.”
Brasher turned to David. “Was it fine?”
“I’m not going to lie; I was scared to death. It was dark, we were stranded at a graveyard, the wind was gusting, tree branches were creaking and moaning, and leaves were flying around like something out of a goddamn horror movie. At least it wasn’t raining for once, but it was still creepy as hell,” David groused at me. “That’s how I felt.”
“How you felt?”
“You’d have thought it was a sunny walk in the park based on how he was acting.” David gestured at Benji. “He was all, ‘Okay, you stay here. I’ll be back.’”
