Detective Carson Ryder Thriller Series Books 4-6: Blood Brother, In the Blood, Little Girls Lost. J. Kerley A.

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СКАЧАТЬ turned on a muted television for quiet company, something to keep me from being alone with the horror of my thoughts and culpability. I watched until the news show focused on Cynthia Pelham’s campaign and the rancor it aroused in many. Faces screaming soundlessly are even uglier than with sound. I turned off the idiot box, pulled the blackout curtains, and lay in the dark.

      Several minutes passed and I became aware of an indefinable presence I could not identify, like a sound just past the edge of hearing. The sole light fell from the red LED clock numbers. I listened into the room until I fell into sleep.

      Sometime later my eyes snapped open. I heard my last snore in the air. My heart was racing. Why? I looked for the clock but couldn’t see its display. The room was as black as a coal mine. My open eyes saw little more than my closed eyes.

      I felt something in the room. A presence.

      It’s standing by the bed, said my child’s mind.

      Nothing’s there, the adult countered. You’ve felt this before. There’s never anyone there.

      It’s coming closer, gasped the child. It’s above us!

      I held my breath, ready to attack what I could not believe was there. Then, softly … a sense of movement. Followed by the most terrifying whisper I’d ever heard, hatred shredded through broken glass.

      “A gun is aimed directly at your heart. I have night-vision goggles. Move and you die.”

      “I’m not moving an inch,” I whispered.

      “I’m going to restrain your arms,” the voice said. “Roll over and put them behind your back. This is the most dangerous moment in your life.”

      I complied. Tape wrapped my wrists, ankles, my legs at my knees. I heard a chair pulled close to the bedside. The chair squeaked under weight. Another voice appeared in the air, light and conversational.

      “Jesus, Carson. Can you believe the price of a good steak in this town?”

      Jeremy. The room went silent save for the traffic on the street. I strained my eyes in his direction, but the room was lightless. I wondered if he was studying me through his goggles, making an inspection.

      “I want to help you, Jeremy,” I said, as calm as I could muster. “The police might kill you on sight. You’ve got to go in and … talk with them. I’ll go with you, keep you safe.”

      I felt his warm voice at my ear. “For sure you’re going to keep me safe, little brother. Timmy’s in the well.”

      “Timmy’s in the … would you please make sense?”

      “THINK ABOUT IT! Do you remember those old Lassie re-runs we used to watch? Lassie’s owner, that idiot Timmy, was always stuck in a cave or falling down a well. Little Timster depended on Lassie to bring help. Arf.”

      It took scant seconds for the realization to sink in. “Folger’s dependent on you for food and water. Maybe even air.”

      “I don’t get to her for a few hours … goodbye Alice.”

      “What if something goes wrong and you can’t get back to her? I don’t want her to die, Jeremy.”

      “Dear Carson, ever the hero on water and land.” His fingers scruffed my hair. “Obviously, it’s incumbent on you to keep me free.”

      I heard his feet start away.

      “Jeremy?”

      “Si?”

      “You held something over Vangie, right? Leverage?” Hoping against hope.

      “Her idea, start to finish. Prowsie needed me to be her Sirius, Carson.”

      “What are you talking about? Her serious what?”

      “S-I-R-I-U-S. The brightest star in the heavens, Sirius. After all these years, Old Prowsie took the hots for her prize subject, wanted a big fling in the Big Apple.”

      “I-I don’t believe that.”

      “It’s what she croaked to me on the plane: ‘You’re my Seeeer-rius, Jeremy. I neeeeed you.’ Not that I’d have surrendered my virtue. I can’t imagine anything more disgusting than grunting over Prowsie’s ancient body. It would be like fucking a corpse.”

      I heard the door open. Close. He was gone.

      I struggled twenty minutes with the tape, stretching it enough to work free. My devious brother had swiped the key from my pocket. By the time I’d returned to the hotel and had a second key generated, he was already in my room, beneath the bed.

      I fumbled toward the light switch, tripping over something on the carpet. I flicked on the lights and found a brown paper package, a folded-over grocery bag. I upended the bag over the desk.

      A woman’s panties and panty hose tumbled out.

      They were followed by a cheap postcard like ones sold across the city. It displayed a photograph of the Empire State Building. Above the building, in balloon type, were the words, WE’RE HAVING A FUN TIME IN NEW YORK CITY! On the reverse was a line written in purple ink. It said, simply,

       Do what he says. Please.

      Below that,

       Alice

      I held the postcard in my hand and stared out the window as the sun turned the sky to orange behind the skyscrapers. Alice Folger was alive. I had to hope Jeremy was in control enough to restrain his urges for now. His visit was to tell me that his capture meant Alice Folger’s death. My brother never made idle threats.

      I dressed and went to the station, arriving at seven. I saw Perlstein doing paperwork at his desk.

      “Yo, Perl … how’s the hunt for Ridgecliff?”

      “Cluff finally bought in to your rich guy view. He pushed your hoity-toity take on Ridgecliff up a notch, thought Ridgecliff might be artsy. Guess what? We saw a guy looked a lot like a Portuguese Ridgecliff waltzing past a security cam at the Guggenheim yesterday.”

      “That’s great,” I said, my mouth going dry. “Smart move.”

      “We’re gonna shoot this fucker dead on the street, Ryder. Thanks for pushing us on to the right path.” He shot a thumbs-up and turned back to his reports.

      Thanks to me, the cops would soon be breathing down my brother’s neck. Had I been smart enough, or less frightened, I’d have told Jeremy his disguise and habits were known. But all I’d been able to think about was his relationship with Vangie. It wasn’t until he was gone that I realized my plight. Folger’s plight. I had to somehow let my brother know the NYPD was on to his disguise.

      Why hadn’t he told me how to make contact? It seemed an omission on his part.

      I wandered out to the street to pull some energy from the sun now filling the streets. I passed a newsstand as a bundle of early-edition papers slapped the pavement СКАЧАТЬ