Darper Danver: The Complete First Series Read online

  Pushing the cabin door open, I finally get us out of the rain, but I'm immediately blinded by a torch shining in my face.

  "Who the hell are you?" a voice calls out.

  Turning away from the torch, I blink a couple of times, trying to clear the blotches of light from my vision.

  "I've got a gun," the voice continues, sounding scared. "If you try anything -"

  "My name's Fisher Benhauser," I say, stumbling across the room and finally setting Cassie down on the floor. "Whoever you are, you need to get out of here." I turn and stare at the dark figure. "Now."

  "My name's Lenora Mackleberry," she replies, stepping closer. "That's Cassie Briggs, isn't it?"

  "Leave!" I say firmly.

  "Is she okay?" she asks, kneeling next to Cassie. "Is she dead?"

  "She's not dead," I mutter, getting to my feet and hurrying over to the far corner. Fortunately, this place has been pretty much untouched over the years, and the old oil lamp is still on one of the shelves. It takes a moment, but I finally manage to get it burning, bringing an orange glow to the cabin. I turn the plate down as far as possible, reducing the amount of light but improving the chance that the meager amount of oil might last until morning.

  "What are you doing up here?" Lenora asks.

  I turn to her. "What are you doing up here?" I reply. "Who are you?"

  "My name's Lenora Mackleberry," she says, looking over at the door as rain continues to pour down. "I'm a writer from New York. I was sent to -"

  "You're the ghost writer," I say, interrupting her.

  She nods.

  "So what are you doing up here late at night?"

  "I asked you first," she replies.

  "I don't give a crap who asked first," I reply. "Tell me."

  She pauses. "If you must know, I was following Cassie. I saw her leaving her house earlier, and I decided to follow her. She wandered into the forest, but the weather got worse and eventually I had to abandon my car and follow on foot. When I lost sight of her, I figured she must be coming to the cabin, so I came to wait. I just..." She pauses again. "I need to get a better picture of what's really going on with her. She told me the truth earlier, or at least a version of it, but I'm not certain I can trust her. I think she might be mentally disturbed."

  "I think you might be right," I reply. "Is your coat waterproof?"

  "Why?"

  "Take it off," I say, hurrying back over to Cassie. "She's drenched and she's cold." Taking my jacket off, I kneel next to Cassie and start unbuttoning her shirt. Her skin feels icy cold, and I'm concerned by the fact that she isn't shivering. Once I've stripped her completely naked, I slip my jacket around her shoulders and close the front, and then I take Lenora's coat and wrap it around Cassie's legs. It's not much, but it's better than what she was wearing before. Grabbing the oil lamp, I place it on the floor next to her, and then I push her legs up so that she's in the fetal position. The lamp should help to warm her, but I'm not certain it'll be enough.

  "She looks like crap," Lenora says after a moment. "Are you sure she's still alive?"

  Reaching down, I check Cassie's pulse. "She's alive," I mutter.

  "For now," Lenora replies. "Why the hell did you bring her here? You should have taken her back to town. If we can get her to my car, I can drive us all to the local hospital and -"

  "Not now," I reply, staring at Cassie.

  "She'll die up here!" Lenora continues. "She'll get hypothermia! You can't seriously think that a couple of coats and a little lamp are enough to keep her alive." Reaching over, she places a hand on the side of Cassie's face. "She's freezing," she adds. "If her core temperature drops too low, she'll -"

  "I don't need you to tell me how to look after her," I say, pushing her hand away.

  "We'll take her to the hospital."

  "No," I say firmly. "Not yet. There's something we need to do first." I pause for a moment. "You can't be here. I don't have time to explain, but you have to leave. Go back to your car and get out of here."

  "Not without Cassie," she replies. "I'm not leaving her here with you, not after..."

  I wait for her to finish the sentence. "Not after what?" I ask eventually.

  "I know you were here," she says cautiously, putting a hand in her shoulder bag. "Cassie told me what happened on the night Bobby Madison died. I know you were here, and I know the official police report doesn't mention your presence. Cassie covered for you, didn't she? She took the blame, and you ran off into the night. She went to prison, you stayed free, and eventually you found someone else and got married." She pauses, and finally a faint smile crosses her face. "Why didn't you wait for her, Mr. Benhauser? It would have made for a very romantic tale if you'd waited for her to be released."

  "She didn't ask me to wait for her."

  "Maybe she didn't think she needed to ask."

  "I didn't kill Bobby," I reply. "I was here, but I didn't kill him."

  "I know," she says, with her hand still in the bag.

  "I know you haven't got a gun," I say after a moment. "If you had one, you'd be pointing it at me by now."

  Smiling, she takes her hand out of the bag. "So why did you let her rot in prison for five years?" she asks. "Why didn't you come forward and try to help her?"

  "We had an agreement."

  "What kind of agreement?"

  "It doesn't matter," I reply, glancing across the room. "You have to get out of here. I'm not going to explain this to you, so there's no point asking me any more questions. If you stay, you're just putting yourself in danger."

  "From who?" she asks. "From you? From Cassie?" She pauses. "If you two were the only people here with Bobby that night, who killed him? Or did he plunge the knife into his own chest?"

  "Cassie didn't kill him," I say, slipping a hand under the coat that's covering her body. There's a little warmth, but her skin still feels like ice. "I didn't kill him either."

  "Then who did?"

  I pause for a moment. "How long have you been up here?" I ask eventually, turning to her. "Before we got here just now, how long were you in the cabin?"

  "Half an hour," she replies. "Why?"

  "And you didn't hear anything?"

  "I heard the rain. I heard the wind, and the trees rustling."

  "And nothing else?"

  "Just the usual little sounds you hear in a spooky old cabin," she says with a smile. "I must admit, the floorboards creaked a few times in the darkness, but I didn't let it get to me. I'm rather sensible when it comes to such things."

  "You shouldn't be," I tell her. "You should go."

  "So you can finish what you started?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Cassie told me who killed Bobby Madison, or at least she told me her version of events. She said there was an extra person here, someone who doesn't really exist. She told me about Darper Danver, and although the whole story was clearly nonsense, I realized after a while that she truly believed it. She really thinks that a ghost killed Bobby." She pauses. "It's an interesting delusion," she continues eventually. "I guess she's too scared to remember what really happened. Either that, or someone deliberately planted the idea in her head."

  "You have to leave," I tell her again.

  "I think I'll stay, thanks," she replies. "After all, a first-hand account could really help to improve sales. Oh, and -" She reaches into her bag again and pulls out a small handgun. "You were wrong, Mr. Benhauser. I do have a gun. I'm not an idiot. So if you're planning on trying anything, think again."

  Becky Madison

  "You're going to do what?" my mother says, her eyes widening in horror as she stands in the kitchen and stares at us.

  "It's okay," Mulcahy says. "There's no need for you to worry, Florence. This mess has simply gone on long enough, and it's time we put an end to it. The law has to be upheld, and the fact that Cassie Briggs is walking around our streets is an affront to everything we hold dear. It's our duty, my duty, to ensure that the murderer doesn't go unpunished."

  "You can't..." She pa
uses for a moment, clearly shocked. "You can't kill the girl," she continues eventually. "That's cold-blooded murder!"

  "It's no better than she deserves, Ma," I say, taking a puff on my cigarette. "Besides, you ain't exactly a saint in this matter. I told him all about your little wander with a knife the other night. We're only doing what you wanted to do in the first place, except we've got the guts to go through with it. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy knowing that bad people get what's coming to them in the end. It's how the world should be."

  "But..."

  "Ma!" I say, raising my voice. "Stop acting like you're some kind of paragon of virtue!" Sighing, I turn to Mulcahy. "See? I told you it was a mistake to come talk to her. We should be out there looking for the bitch right now, not messing around here!"

  "Florence," Mulcahy says, ignoring me and walking over to my mother, "how long have we known each other? Forty-eight, forty-nine years? In all that time, have I ever done anything that was against the best interests of this town?"

  "No," my mother says, her voice trembling. "Of course not."

  "And you know that I'm a man of honor," he adds. "That's why I insisted on coming to see you tonight, before we do anything. You understand that, don't you?"

  She nods.

  "Cassie Briggs killed Bobby," he continues. "You know that, and I know that. The whole world knows. Just because the legal system wasn't able to pin it on her, that doesn't make her innocent, not in my book. Sometimes it's necessary to step outside of that system in order to ensure that justice is served. Do you understand what I'm saying? The system, as fine as it is, has let you down, and it let Becky down, and most of all it let Bobby and the town down. This failure has to be corrected as quickly as possible."

  "But legally -"

  "The law is a guideline," he says, interrupting her. "It's not absolute. I don't believe the law should prevent a man from doing what he believes to be right."

  She nods again.

  "He was your son, Florence, so the decision is yours. That's why I insisted that we came to see you tonight, before we go find Cassie. It's your family's blood that was spilled by that girl, so I reckon the final decision is down to you. I'm gonna make it as easy on you as possible, though. I'm not gonna ask you to agree. I know you're a good woman, Florence, and I know you might have a hard time accepting such a huge responsibility, so we're gonna do this in a way that puts the least amount of stress on you."

  "I can't..." she starts to say, but her voice fades away.

  "We don't need her permission," I say, trying to hide my anger at this complete waste of time.

  "Yes," Mulcahy says firmly, "we do. She's Bobby's mother."

  "And I'm his sister!" I reply, taking another puff on my cigarette.

  "A mother's love is something else," Mulcahy says, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Ma. "I'm sorry, Becky, maybe this all seems rather old-fashioned to you, but I'm a firm believer in sticking with tradition in certain areas. With your father out of the picture, your mother is the head of the family, and I won't move forward unless I have her permission."

  "She's weak," I mutter.

  "Your mother is the strongest woman I've ever met in my life," he replies.

  "Then why couldn't she do this herself?" I ask. "She followed the bitch a few nights ago. She had a knife, so why didn't she do this herself?"

  "It's not a woman's place to do such things," Mulcahy says. "If your delinquent father was here, it'd be his job. Since he's abdicated his responsibilities, it falls to me."

  "Seriously?" I reply, before taking another puff of my cigarette. "Jesus Christ, what goddamn century are we in? A woman can stick a knife in someone's ribs just as easy as any man. There ain't no glass ceiling when it comes to murder."

  "When Becky and I walk out of here," Mulcahy continues, still staring at my mother, "we're going to go and find Cassie Briggs. We're going to take her somewhere quiet, and I'm going to get rid of her. She won't be tortured, and her death will be as quick and painless as possible. Just a bullet to the back of the head, and then we'll bury her somewhere out in the forest, where no-one'll ever find her." He pauses for a moment. "This isn't about retribution, Florence. It's about removing a threat from our community, and sending a message to others that this kind of behavior won't be tolerated. Becky wants to witness Cassie's final moments, and I believe that's her right as Bobby's sister. You're also entitled to come and witness justice being served, but I hope you won't take that opportunity. There are some things, Florence, that I don't think you should have to see. I very much hope you'll just let us go and do what's necessary, but if you ask us to stop, I promise you, we'll stop."

  "Don't worry, Ma," I say, interrupting their little chat. "I'll be able to describe it to you in detail once it's over."

  "So that's what we're gonna do when we walk out of here," Mulcahy says, ignoring me. "I know you're a good woman, Florence. A good, God-fearing woman. As Bobby's mother, you have the right to call this off and ask us not to do it. I believe very strongly that we have to offer you a chance, but I also hope that you'll let us do what we need to do." He pauses for a moment. "We're going to leave now. You don't have to say anything. If you want us to stop, and to leave Cassie Briggs alone, you just have to say so. Otherwise, we'll go and deal with the problem, and there'll be no blood on your hands. It'll all be on mine. Do you understand?"

  She stares at him, but she doesn't say a word. Her mouth moves for a moment, as if she's about to raise an objection, but she stays quiet. I can tell she wants to do 'the right thing', whatever the hell that means, but I just hope she doesn't get it into her head that God would be pissed off if she lets us kill the bitch.

  "Okay," Mulcahy says, before turning and walking across the room and, finally, heading out the back door.

  Ma and I stand in silence. I wish she'd drop the worried look and accept that this is a great moment. Unfortunately, she looks as if she's heartbroken. The bitch who murdered her son is gonna get what's coming to her, but my dear old mother can't just join the celebrations. Her conscience is all twisted, and she can't see that this is the proper thing to do.

  "You made the right choice, Ma," I say after a moment, with tears in my eyes. "Bobby wouldn't want his killer to get away. It's a crime against nature. I know you don't like bad language, but that girl is a murdering bitch and for the sake of the entire town, we have to get rid of her." I pause for a moment, but although I want to go over and hug her, I force myself to be strong. "Do whatever you gotta do to accept this," I continue eventually. "Pray, or whatever. But know that justice is finally gonna be delivered."

  "What if you get caught?" she asks, her voice sounding frail.

  "No chance," I reply with a smile. "He's a cop and I'm a lawyer, for fuck's sake. I think between us we can handle the disappearance of a girl nobody likes."

  Waiting for her to say something, I finally realize that this is hitting her pretty damn hard. Still, that's no reason to hold back. We just have to do what's right, and trust that we'll feel better in the end.

  "May God have mercy on all our souls," she says suddenly.

  "Where was God when Bobby was being butchered?" I ask. "Where was God then, huh? And where was he when Cassie Briggs walked out the doors of that prison?" I pause for a moment. "Face it, Ma. Sometimes we have to do the things that even God doesn't like. The Bible says it's okay to kill a killer, you know. That book you always quote whenever you're trying to get me to change my life? It says we have the right to do this."

  After a brief, awkward silence, I head out the door and hurry across the lawn, making my way through the rain to Mulcahy's car. I didn't agree with going to ask for Ma's permission, but at least the moment's over now. All that's left is to go and track the bitch down. I swear to God, I've been waiting five years for the chance to make her suffer.

  "She'll be fine," I say as I get into the passenger seat. "I still think you didn't need to go and get her goddamn permission like that, though. I mean, what is this, the Midd
le Ages?" I pause for a moment, staring out at the rain. "So what now? Where are we gonna start looking for the bitch? If she's at home, how are we gonna draw her out?"

  "It's not going to be that simple," he replies, turning to me. "I just got a call over the radio. Lucy Briggs called the station about half an hour ago. She's reported Cassie missing."

  Fisher Benhauser

  "Cassie," I say, watching as the light from the oil lamp flickers on her face, "you have to wake up. Please. If you can hear me, say something. Give me a sign. Anything, just let me know you're still in there somewhere."

  I sit in silence for a moment, desperately hoping that she might respond.

  "I told you," Lenora says, sitting nearby with her back against the wall. She's holding her phone up, as if she's watching us through the camera. "You need to get her to a hospital. She's past the point where a few rags are going to warm her up. This is all very romantic, but she needs hooking up to some serious drugs."

  "You're the one with a gun," I reply. "If you're so concerned, why don't you force me?"

  "Because you probably wouldn't do it," she replies, "and I'd have to either shoot you or back down. And because I prefer to observe rather than interfere. The gun's just for my own protection. I think you should take Cassie to hospital. In fact, I know you should. The fact that you keep refusing is interesting, though. It's as if you're waiting for something else to happen. I'm happy to wait with you. If she dies, she dies. Either way, I'm getting a story."

  Staring at her phone for a moment, I can't help but notice the camera lens. "You're taking photos, aren't you?" I ask after a moment.

  "Video," she replies, keeping her eyes on the screen. "This baby's amazing. It can store up to an hour's worth of high-definition video locally, with audio, plus it can continuously upload to the cloud. Battery life's good, too, so I can keep filming all night if necessary. It'll certainly be fascinating to be able to present the footage along with the book. Of course, I'll have to edit out these parts where I'm speaking. People are just going to see the pair of you." She pauses, still staring at the screen. "If she dies, I'll get it on video. Millions of viewers will see it, and that, my friend, is the kind of publicity money can't buy."