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The smell of burnt wood mixed with the bile in the back of Nick's throat. At least he hadn't hurled on himself—or Lieutenant O’Grady. He retched again, but nothing came up. Wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his sleeve, he took a deep breath and stared at the mistletoe O'Grady had found. Max studied it, then looked over the surrounding area before his gaze came to rest on Nick. "You going to make it, partner?"
"I'll be all right."
"Looks like we'll have to get Geist and someone from the M.D.C.'s forensics squad," Colleen said, taking her cell phone from her pocket. "I'll make the call and go wait for them."
"We'll wait here," Max said. "I want a closer look."
O'Grady disappeared over the top of the hill.
"Congratulations." Max put his hand on Nick's shoulder. "Looks like you've given us something."
Max twirled a mistletoe sprig between his thumb and forefinger, then nodded toward the blackened circle. "It has all the signs of a ritual pyre and the mistletoe is pretty damn convincing, but I don't believe a little voice told you where to find it. It would really help if you gave us your source. We'll protect them if that's what you're worried about."
After the voice, the dream, and finding this place, Nick even surprised himself, but this hard ass still didn't believe him. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, there ain't no source. You don't believe me, that's your own tough shit. I brought you here, didn't I?"
Max held up his hands. "Okay, okay." He pointed to a log. “Take a seat over there and relax. You still look a little pale. And be careful where you step. We don't want to disturb any evidence." He jerked his thumb back toward the woods. "I'm going to take a look around."
Nick propped himself on the edge of the log and stared at the blackened ring. His stomach still felt queasy. He studied the boulders he remembered hiding behind in his dream while the man in the trench coat burned. Being here proved that the whole thing had actually happened—except the part where the hooded men dragged him down. What did that mean?
He put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. If Broderick the magician wasn't doing the killing, then who? Sully? The man—if that's what you could call him, was twisted enough, but too stupid. Sully knew something though. Had to. He always showed up at the weirdest times, especially around Saint Augustine's.
It had to be someone inside the mission. Someone Nick hadn't seen yet. Sully was always there to make sure he couldn't get close, so how could he get in?
The crow cawed again as if taunting him. Nick looked up into the trees, then down at the ground, his eyes coming to rest on the fire ring. A dull glint in the dirt at the edge of the dark circle caught his attention. He crossed the clearing, knelt beside the remains of the fire and picked up a blackened piece of metal. He blew it off and turned it over in his palm. A button. He went back to his perch on the log and studied it. Probably came from the poor bastard’s jacket.
Nick heard leaves rustling and looked up to see Broderick emerge from a thicket of trees.
"Find anything?" Nick said.
Broderick shook his head. "Some tire tracks, but nothing solid. Looks like there's more than one way in."
Nick held out the button. "I found this next to the fire. Looks like it came from a jacket."
Max took the button and held it up. "Trenchcoat?"
"That's what I thought."
Max stared at the fire circle, then did a slow turn while studying the bent oaks surrounding the hollow. "Classic druid ritual spot." He stared at the button again. “I've seen all I need to see. Let's go find O'Grady and let the other guys come in and do their job before we disturb it any more."
"No argument from me. This place gives me the fucking willies." Nick stood and a wave of blackness engulfed him. He swayed and grabbed at Max's arm, then his mind cleared.
"You all right?"
He shook his head. "Whew. Sorry. I'm okay. Passed out for a second there. Guess I do need some sleep."
"Amen."
When they reached the top of the hollow, Nick took one last look at the remains of the pyre. The phantom crow let out a mournful cry. Nick flashed on the silent scream and the agonized face of the man he saw burned. Shuddering, he drew his jacket closer, but it didn't stop the chill. He turned and hurried to catch up with Broderick.
Twenty minutes later, they found Lieutenant O'Grady back at the car talking with four M.D.C. cops and pointing in the direction of the oak grove. Broderick joined the discussion. Nick felt too drained to care about cop talk, so he climbed into the front seat of the car, slouched back and closed his eyes.
The sound of car doors jolted him awake. O'Grady climbed in the driver's side and gave him a smile. Broderick stretched out in the back seat. The two M.D.C. cruisers backed down the road to let them out. A handful of uniformed cops stayed behind to check out the oak grove.
Nick looked in the rearview mirror on the drive back to Dorchester. Broderick had passed out. The mistletoe and the button. Proof that they burned the guy. Proof that they probably killed Obie and other street people along with victims with families who cared about them. Cops didn't give a shit about people on the fringes. Neither did the system for that matter. Didn't even care if they existed—unless they became an eyesore to businesses with money and political pull.
"You okay?" O'Grady said.
"Just thinking."
"Penny for your thoughts."
Nick sighed. "I was thinking that I've known Obie all my life."
"Obie?"
"The man was a neighborhood fixture as far back as I can remember. Used to buy beer for us. We'd all pitch and give him a couple of bucks for making the run. Then one day, poof!" Nick threw his hands into the air. "Gone."
"Where?"
Nick pointed back over his shoulder. "No doubt to the same place as that poor bastard who got roasted. Sure Obie didn't pay taxes and his stink and bad breath were nothing to brag about, but he was a human being with thoughts and feelings."
She pursed her lips and nodded. "Hate to say it, but you're right. Most cops feel that way."
"Bad attitude."
"Can't argue, but we're not all that way."
"Who do you know that's different?"
"Broderick." She lowered her voice. "He can be a son-of-a-bitch but he really cares. Doesn't matter how much someone takes a bath, Max wants to save everybody. That's why he's so goddamn stubborn." She shook her head.
They pulled out of Unquity road and headed down the Blue Hills Parkway. Nick checked the rear view mirror again. Broderick hadn't moved. It sounded strange to hear O'Grady call him Max, but not as weird as hearing her say that he cared about street people. "If that's what makes him so bull-headed, more power to him."
"He wants to put the bad guys out of business."
They drove the rest of the way without talking. When they turned onto Dorchester Ave. she asked him for his address. He told her and she drove to the apartment, parking behind Mike's car. Nick hoped Mike or his mother wouldn't see him getting out of a cop car, even if Max and O'Grady were plainclothes.
"What are you guys going to do?" he said when she put the car into park. "I want to help."
"Thanks for the offer but you've done more than enough. We can't put you at risk. Stay here until we tell you otherwise." She fished through her purse and pulled out a business card. “Call the number on the back."
"You saying I'm grounded?”
"I want to make sure you're safe."
"But I want to help."
"Give us the name of your contact," Max said from the back seat.
Nick looked in the rearview mirror and saw Broderick rubbing his eyes. "I liked you better when you were asleep.” Max leaned forward and squeezed Nick's shoulder. "You change your mind sport, give us a call, otherwise stay put. For what it's worth, as far as the bag of crack and the gun go, they don’t exist, but I don't want you out on the streets until this thing is over. If our friends find out how much you know, it's going to be your ass on the campfire. Cabeesh?"
Nick looked from Max to O'Grady, who nodded.
"How will I know when it's over?"
"We'll give you a call," Max said.
He sighed. "Okay. Thanks for the break." He shook hands with Max. "And thank you", he said to O'Grady. "For listening and believing." He shook her hand, then let himself out of the car. Before closing the door, he popped his head back in. "One more thing."
She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I think you're beautiful." He closed the door and turned away before she could respond. His face felt hot. He heard the car pulling away from the curb but didn't dare look back.
Unlocking the door, he trudged up the steps. Right now he didn't care about anything but copping some z's. Maybe the caped crusader and his beautiful sidekick would nail the bad guys. Maybe the voice would stop?
He chuckled at the thought of Broderick and O'Grady wanting him to stay put. If the voice came again there was no way he could stick around. Whoever was behind it had to be stopped, especially after seeing his nightmare alive and well in the Blue Hills.
He paused at the apartment door and calmed himself. He wasn't ready for another exchange with Mike. He stuck the key in the lock, grabbed the knob, and let himself in. Strange, no noise from Mike or his mother. Were they asleep? Not this early in the afternoon. Maybe they were doing the wild thing? The thought of Mike grunting and sweating on top of his mother made him uneasy. He tip-toed down the hall, listening.
Nothing.
Panic rushed through him. He wished Sully hadn't taken his gun. It would have been a welcome reassurance. When he reached the kitchen he spotted Mike's keys on the table. An envelope lay beside it. Dropping into a chair, he saw a note in his mother's neat script. Underneath it he found a twenty dollar bill and a note.
Dear Nicky,
Mike and I went to New Hampshire for the weekend with the Hinchliffes. We'll be back sometime Sunday night. Here's twenty dollars for food or whatever. If you need anything call me.
Love,
Mom
Friday already? Christ, he didn’t even know what day it was any more. He eyed Mike's keys. Must've taken the Hinchliffe's car.
After a glass of milk and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Nick climbed into bed. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Images of the burning man and the smell of fire hung at the periphery of his mind.
He pushed them aside and replaced them with thoughts of Lieutenant O'Grady. His hand went to the bandage on his head. He remembered the soft touch of her fingers in his hair, her perfume, voice, legs, body, luscious smile and those green eyes. A twinge of arousal passed through his groin.
He tried to hold onto her memory, but the face and smell of the burning man forced itself to the forefront of his thoughts. How did a gorgeous babe like Lieutenant O'Grady get involved in crazy shit like this? And what about that hard ass Broderick? Were they more than partners? You couldn't tell when they were together, but the way they talked when they were apart said a lot. Whatever their relationship, they made a good team. He hoped they would put an end to the voice and the butchering.
He drifted. Lieutenant O'Grady, Broderick, Sully, the voice. Where had it taken him?