Arcanum (Tales from the Tarot)

38. Chris

Chapter thirty-eight

Chris

T he search for Don started in earnest the day after Christmas and continued for about a week. Unfortunately for us, all attempts to locate him resulted in absolutely nothing.

Dad went back to Florida.

Greyson and I both went back to work.

New Year’s came and went without so much as a peep from Don. The wait was killing me. I didn’t know how Greyson had done it for so long. The waiting . Knowing someone was out there, waiting to harass you, to hurt you. Constantly looking over your shoulder. As a cop, I was already prone to being on high alert but since Don’s escape, I couldn’t turn it off even when I was safe inside the house with Greyson by my side and a loaded gun within arm’s reach. Being at work, away from him, made it worse.

“No word from the stalker?” Luke asked, wolfing down another taco. At midnight, our food options were pretty limited. Thankfully, a tiny little Mexican restaurant stayed open late to catch the bar crowd before they went home.

I shook my head, scooping up some guacamole with a chip. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s waiting for.”

“For the heat to die down. Duh.”

“It’s the second week of January. The heat’s died down.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for something special in Greyson’s life? A birthday or something?”

“His birthday was in November.”

“What about the stalker’s birthday? Anniversary?”

“Maybe.” I slipped my cell phone out of my vest and logged into my work email, scrolling through the files on Don. After a minute or so of not seeing anything relevant, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and focused on eating.

“So what’s it like?” Luke asked, dunking a chip into the salsa and swirling it around until it was on the verge of turning soggy.

“What’s what like?” I asked warily.

“Being with a dude. We never really talked about it. I’m curious.”

I scoffed and shook my head, purposely taking a ginormous bite out of my burrito. Although I was honestly surprised he’d waited that long to ask anything, especially with Greyson’s smug little hint rolling around in the back of my head.

“No, I mean, seriously,” Luke persisted. “Is it easier than being with a chick? Harder? About the same?”

“Easier,” I said around a mouthful of burrito. “Hands down.”

Luke nodded, finally popping the saturated chip into his mouth.

“There were some bumps in the beginning, but now? Other than this stalker shit, it’s a breeze. We can have different opinions but we don’t fight. He doesn’t nag or play those mind games, like ‘I’m mad but you have to guess why.’ He carries his weight around the house. I even like his cat and you know I’m not a cat person. But she’s chill, just like he is. The hardest part has been my own hang-ups about the whole thing. Worried about guys at work. People in town.” I shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’m sure they’re talking but I haven’t heard any of it.”

“Bro, you know I’d shut that shit down if I heard anything.”

“I know.”

We bumped knuckles over the bag of chips.

“And the sex…?” Luke bit his lower lip and raised his dark brows expectantly.

“K91, Control,” came a voice from our radios.

“None of your fucking business, you perv.” I threw my wadded-up napkin at him and grabbed my mic. “Go ahead.”

“K91, alarm call at 301 Main St, Arcanum Bookstore. Alarm company advised an office motion alarm. Still attempting key holders.”

Luke and I exchanged a wide-eyed look and scurried into action, sweeping our food into the brown bags it came in and chucking them into the garbage cans on the way out the door.

“K91 and 32 en route,” I replied.

“Where’s your partner when you need him?” Luke groaned.

I agreed. I would have felt a hell of a lot better going to an alarm call with Nitro next to me, but he was at home with Greyson, recovering from his yearly teeth cleaning and the anesthesia it required.

“I’ll take the back,” I said, hopping into my driver’s seat.

“I got the front.”

We sped out of the parking lot, lights flashing but no sirens. On the way, my cell phone rang. Greyson.

“I’m on my way there now,” I said instead of the usual greeting.

“Where should I meet you? The alarm company said you’ll need the key.”

“In the alley.”

“Ok. I’ll be right there.”

Naturally, Luke and I got to Arcanum first. We killed all of our lights, including the flashy kind, and peeled off in different directions to take our positions.

“I’m still about two minutes out,” Stacey said over the radio on our private channel.

“Stay roving in case this asshole makes it out of there,” I replied, the oh-so-lucky “Officer in Charge” since Tom felt like he needed to take a vacation or something. Bastard.

“Copy.”

“Front’s clear,” Luke said. “I can’t see anything inside. No vehicles out front.”

“I’m pulling up in the alley.” I parked two buildings to the south, scanning the empty space behind Arcanum. “It’s clear back here. Greyson’s on his way with the key.”

“Silver Camry?” Stacey asked.

“Yeah.”

“Just turned onto Fourth Street.”

“Control, K91. Key holder’s on scene,” I said when Greyson’s headlights turned into the alley. I got out of my squad and walked up to him as the Camry slowed to a stop. He killed the engine and started to get out, but I stood in front of the door, forcing him to roll down the window instead. “I’ll take the key. You’re staying here. I don’t care if you see a busload of orphans stuck on a train track. Don’t get out of this car.”

He frowned up at me. “Chris, I don’t like this.”

“I don’t like it either. That’s why you’re staying here. Got it?” I put out my hand, waiting impatiently while he worked the key off the ring and handed it over.

“You don’t understand. It’s more than the alarm. Today’s Lola’s birthday. And ever since I got here, I’ve had this nauseating feeling, like I’m going to pass out. It’s getting harder to breathe.”

“Do you need an ambulance?”

He shook his head quickly. “No.”

“Is it him? Is he here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if I got closer, I could—”

I laughed bitterly. “That ain’t fucking happening. If I have to call Stacey over here to babysit you, I will. But you’re not leaving this car. Do you hear me?”

Nodding, he rubbed the center of his chest and took a couple of deep breaths, letting his gaze drift warily to Arcanum.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

I touched my vest and the lump of black tourmaline inside. “Got my lucky rock. I’m good to go.” Giving him a reassuring smile, I patted the car door and turned toward the bookstore, approaching on foot.

“Stacey, move up and cover the alley. I’m making entry,” I said, reaching for the doorknob. Turned out I didn’t need the key after all. The asshole had left the door open a crack, probably in case he had to make a fast getaway.

“Back door is open,” I advised dispatch, unholstering my gun and getting into position with my flashlight.

Heavy boots and jangling drew my attention to the north. Luke appeared around the corner of the building, his breath clouding in the dark as he jogged closer.

“Damn, dude, do we need to work on your cardio?” I said when he reached the backdoor of Arcanum.

He flipped me off with the hand that held his flashlight. “I’d say to blow me, but your gay ass would probably like it.”

I chuckled and rolled my shoulders back, putting my game face on. Once Luke tapped my shoulder, I darted into the building, clearing the stairs immediately to the left that led up to the office. Since that’s where the motion alarm tripped, that’s where I headed first. Luke followed behind me, covering our rear.

At the top of the stairs, I flipped on the hall light while Luke scanned the closed doors. Thankfully the majority of the rooms were empty except for the one Greyson used as an office and the one that had been converted into a small kitchen/bathroom.

There was no sign of Don.

We made our way back down to the first floor, turning on lights as we went and clearing all of the nooks and crannies afforded by the bookcases and furniture. While some cops preferred to clear a building in the dark, Luke and I agreed that we were targets either way. Turning on the lights meant we gave ourselves a fighting chance of spotting the bad guy before they saw us.

“K91, 32, from Control,” dispatch practically whispered in my earpiece.

I covered the mic as best as I could. “Go ahead.”

“Alarm company called back, advising motion alarms tripped in the office and by the cash register.”

Luke and I glanced around as I replied, “That’s us.”

“Where the fuck is this guy?” Luke whispered, echoing my thoughts.

Don—or whoever had broken in and tripped the alarm—hadn’t had enough time to leave before we got there. We were on scene within minutes and we hadn’t passed any other cars leaving the downtown area. Stacey was coming from the other direction and would have mentioned seeing any vehicles.

I scanned the first floor again, taking note of the motion sensor glowing in the corner of the ceiling, overlooking the cash register.

For whatever reason, whoever came in had tripped the office alarm but not the one in the main area of the bookstore.

Luke and I appeared to have the same idea at the same time as our gazes fell to the floor.

“Basement?” he whispered.

I tossed my head toward the back hallway and started that way.

“This don’t feel right,” Luke said over my shoulder, his voice uncharacteristically on edge.

Normally, I would have tried to brush a comment like that off, but I begrudgingly agreed. First Greyson’s bad feeling and now Luke’s? It wasn’t a coincidence.

Regardless, we had a job to do and if it was Don, there was no way I was letting that fucker get away from me.

“I’ll go first,” I said, stopping in front of the basement door. It wasn’t bravery on my part. It had more to do with the fact that I’d been one of the point men in SOT for nearly ten years and Luke had always been my second. Changing it now was a greater risk, for both of us, than me going first like always.

Luke swallowed thickly and nodded, adjusting his grip on his pistol.

I reached out slowly and turned the doorknob before yanking it open quickly. We both ducked out of the way. When no shots came, we peered into the stretch of blackness below. It looked like a grave, waiting to swallow us alive.

Something metal clinked in the darkness, faint enough to be a mouse or something, but definitely loud enough that we both froze, exchanging wary glances. My heartbeat pounded in my ears and I gripped my pistol tighter.

“Stand back,” I whispered, motioning Luke to back up. He did, moving closer to the backdoor—and safety if Don opened fire.

I reached into the dark stairwell and hit the light switch. Nothing happened. Glancing up, I cursed silently. The bulb was missing overhead. Whether it was Don’s doing or Greyson’s shitty landlord, I had no idea. I didn’t imagine Greyson had much need to use the basement, otherwise I was sure he’d have fixed it.

Shining my flashlight at the bottom of the stairs quickly, I turned it off just as fast. I didn’t see anyone, or anything, so I descended as quietly as I could on the creaky old wood. Each step closer to the bottom made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. It was noticeably colder down there, even with a double layer of shirts on.

What the fuck was Don doing? Is this where he’d been the whole time since his escape three weeks ago? If so, what was the master plan? He could have attacked Greyson at any moment. Why now? Because it was Lola’s birthday?

Chris, I don’t like this.

Greyson’s words rang in my memory like a siren. He didn’t ever use my name. Not anymore, not in that serious tone of voice. Not since we were officially a couple. It was always “Darling.” Tonight it was “Chris.”

Suddenly I had a hard time breathing. My vest felt like it was three sizes too small, tightening with each step I descended. Everything inside of me screamed to get out, to run as fast as I could, to grab Luke and get the fuck out of there. I ignored it, though, stuffing the fear down deep and trying to remember my training. We didn’t run away from danger, we ran toward it, no matter the cost.

Luke shifted upstairs, creeping closer to the basement door. The floorboards creaked under his weight. Upstairs, I’m sure it was nothing, barely even noticeable. But down below, in an old, echoey basement, it was as loud as a clap of thunder.

Fuck! Don had been able to hear everything as we cleared the upper floors. I knew he was still there, lurking somewhere in the dark, waiting. He had to be. But why? Maybe it had been about me all along. He hadn’t attacked Greyson because he was waiting for Greyson’s dumbass boyfriend to stumble into his trap. And I did, a stupid lamb waltzing into the slaughter.

Dumbass or not, I still had a job to do, and that was to catch the bad guy.

Steeling my spine, I stepped off the bottom stair and reached for the light switch on the wall. I flicked it upward.

A tiny orange spark erupted on the ceiling, right where a shattered bulb hung, the filaments exposed but intact. In the blink of an eye, orange whooshed across the basement in a wave of fire, igniting everything in its path.

I didn’t have time to run. I didn’t have time to do anything except throw a hand in front of my face and pray the shockwave killed me before I burned to death.