Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Charlie disconnected from the call.

Declan started working his way up from Charlie's toes.

Charlie sat up and pushed Declan's head away. "That was the RCMP, and they want us and Tull's computer in Drumheller by four this afternoon."

Declan frowned. "What the hell?"

"How did they find out about the computer?" Charlie asked.

Declan shrugged. "Not many options there. We must have a rat at Hoodoo House. Could have been any of them—Sinclair, Mrs Cameron or Henry. Probably not Sinclair, though. He doesn't want that video to come out."

Declan sat up. "And who knows? Maybe the cops heard about the computer through another investigation…but somehow I doubt it."

"Maybe I should give Hoodoo House a call and find out if anyone there said anything," Charlie replied as he turned on his side.

"Not a bad idea. Then we can grab a shower and maybe swing by your place and get you changed. You're looking a little…rumpled."

Charlie thumped Declan with a pillow, then grabbed his phone and called Hoodoo House. The call was picked up after two rings.

"Good morning, Hoodoo House, Hen—"

"Good morning, Henry," Charlie interrupted.

"Charlie! You wouldn't believe what happened last night. There was this big guy, I mean he was huge and he rides this massive motorcycle and he came smashing into the house yesterday—crash! And he started to bust up—"

"Henry. Slow down. I want you to take a deep breath and tell me, slowly, what happened."

"What's going on?" Declan whispered.

Charlie held up his hand.

"There was this big biker guy," Henry continued, now talking painfully slow. "He came to the house last night when Gramma Carol was away. He started to smash up the place…but I chased him away, smiting him like The Slithe smited Momrath in my comic books. It was so cool I wish you could have seen it!"

"Are you and Mrs Cameron all right?"

"Yup. Yup, right as rain. We're good," Henry piped.

"Is your Gramma Carol around?"

"She's having her bath right now. I could go and get her if you want."

"No, Henry, that's okay. Tell me—did the police come by last night?"

"You bet. They were here in a flash. And it was the same sergeant that came when Mr Tull died."

"Sergeant Bowen?"

"Yeah. That's her. She's really nice, though she wouldn't let me sit in the front of the police car. Speaking of cars, you still owe me a ride in yours. It's way cooler than Sergeant Bowen's."

Declan looked at Charlie intently.

"I'll fill you in in a second," Charlie whispered to Declan, then turned his attention back to the call.

"Did Sergeant Bowen ask about us, by any chance?" Charlie pressed.

There were a few seconds of silence on the phone before Henry spoke. "Yeah…I think I may have told them that you were here looking for a missing computer."

"And did you tell her we found it?" Charlie continued.

"I might have," he said. "She asked if I had any idea what the man who broke in was looking for, and I may have mentioned the computer. Please don't be mad at me, Charlie. I didn't mean to tell."

"No, it's okay, Henry. No one's mad at you. We're just glad that everyone is okay. Look, we have to meet with the RCMP in Drumheller this afternoon. After we're done, is it okay if we come to Hoodoo House and check up on everyone?"

Charlie whispered to Declan, "That's okay, isn't it?"

Declan nodded.

"I'd like that," Henry replied. "The police still have some stuff they want to do, but you could come out later in the day."

"See you about six then? And make sure you tell Gramma Carol we're coming."

"You bet!" Henry said. "Charlie, will I get that ride in your car?"

"Maybe. We'll see you at six."

Charlie disconnected the call and took a deep breath.

"I take it something went down last night at Hoodoo House involving the police?" Declan asked.

Charlie nodded. "Someone attacked the house. Henry said he fended off the intruder, although he was so excited by it all, I'm not sure what really happened. The police came and everyone seems to be all right."

"Well, at least we know how the cops found out about the computer."

"Henry said that the guy who attacked them was big and rode a large motorcycle."

Declan pursed his lips. "BurlyBiker27?"

"Maybe. Declan, if he was capable of tearing the place apart, maybe he was involved in Malcolm Tull's death. After all, the email on the computer shows he threatened to kill him."

Declan scowled. "Something still isn't sitting right with me about Malcolm Tull's death, but I'm sure it has to do with that computer and what's on it. Maybe Tull really did take his own life for some reason—out of fear. You know, he killed himself before someone else did it for him? Although I'm not really convinced about that. We haven't seen any evidence that would push an egomaniac like him to commit suicide. What seems more likely is that someone killed him to shut him up, and then tried to find the computer. But the biker seems a more violent type. He'd have been more likely to choke Tull to death or use a knife on him rather than to take his chances on poisoning him with an overdose of his medication."

"True," Charlie said.

Declan continued, "The evidence we've seen from the videos and emails points to either Sinclair or Cody White."

"They were both in the house around the time of Tull's death," Charlie added. "I mean, they had motive and they were both being threatened. But I still don't think Cody has it in him to be a killer. He could barely get through the interview without chewing his nails to the quick. Do you think he'd have the guts to do it?"

"I don't know. His behaviour around you could have been a result of guilt, or fear of being found out. It'd be nice to put him under pressure and see if he snapped. But even then…"

"And Sinclair raised a valid point that if he did kill Tull," Charlie continued, "it wouldn't make sense for him to hire you and risk being caught."

Declan sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'm not convinced that either of those guys did it. At least not enough that I'd be willing to put their necks in a noose. We don't have enough information yet. Maybe the RCMP can shed more light on what actually happened."

"So what do we do?" Charlie asked.

Declan paused for a moment. "We'll take in the computer and turn it over to the cops. First, though, I want you to scrub the manuscript and the video files with Cody White and Sinclair Yamada off the computer. Can you do that so there's no trace?"

"I guess," Charlie said. He didn't like the idea of tampering with evidence.

"We'll still have them on your backup server if we or the cops need them in the future," Declan assured him. "The only video we'll leave for now is the one for BurlyBiker27, who you identified as Adolph Moses. We'll see if the cops are willing to share any information they have about him. From what Henry told you, it's possible that it was him who attacked the house. I suspect the police would be interested in the connection anyway, and there's no reason to point them towards the others until we have proof that they were involved."

Declan smiled. "This is fun. Solving cases in bed together."

Charlie looked down at his hands. "Shouldn't we give everything we have to the RCMP?"

Declan gently took Charlie by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "We don't want innocent people to get hurt through this, and we also have to respect the confidentiality of our clients. Cody White is a client. Sinclair Yamada is a client. But BurlyBiker27 is not. And I promise if we uncover something else that leads another direction, we'll find a way to turn over the backup files to the RCMP at the right time in the right way."

"Okay," Charlie said. "I should also clear the computer's search history of references to Tull's Proton account. That way we don't have to worry about the police stumbling across the emails from Sinclair and Cody. I'll still be able to access them later if we need them."

"Smart man," Declan said. "You get on that and I'll call Sinclair and ask him to meet us at Hoodoo House at six to fill him in on what we've found. Charlie, we'll get to the bottom of this one way or the other."

* * * *

The morning went by quickly as Charlie removed the files and backed them up to an encrypted site. Then he made his way home to Carrie, who gave him an earful for not texting, although she seemed less angry when she found out where Charlie had been. It was close to two o'clock by the time Charlie got back to the office.

"You all right if I drive today?" Declan asked. "I'm kinda enjoying the Beast."

"Sure." Charlie said.

"All right. Grab the computer and let's go."

Charlie paused. "Just one more thing. Meet me in the back parking lot by the car."

Ten minutes later, Charlie came out of the back door to Gwen's Café with coffees and a brown paper bag. He passed Declan his coffee through the driver's window.

"What's in the bag?" Declan asked.

"You and I are now part of an experiment," Charlie said. "Gwen's branching out into sandwiches and she wanted us to try some. I figured since we haven't had lunch…"

In a matter of minutes, the sandwiches were gone.

Declan passed Charlie his coffee, "No cupholders. I guess you still get to hold this. We'd better get on the road."

They made their way north along Highway 2 and, just past Airdrie, turned east onto secondary Highway 567. Charlie remembered his last time in Airdrie a few months ago, where the case they had been working on had taken a turn for the worse. He put the memory behind him and watched the prairie scenery go by.

As they turned north on Highway 9, Charlie noted a sign that said they were within forty-five minutes of Drumheller. The road continued in wide ninety-degree arcs which skirted fields of freshly harvested wheat. They kept heading east, then north then east, then south, until eventually the highway took a much sharper bend to the north. Charlie gasped as the ground dropped away from the farmers' fields. Where the flat lands should have continued, instead, a giant hole in the earth opened up and there was a maroon-striped gorge that appeared out of nowhere. It was Horseshoe Canyon. Charlie had been there a few times as a kid, but he'd forgotten how awe-inspiring it was. His reverie was interrupted by a loud roar.

A motorcycle raced by and pulled in front of the car. A second bike pulled up beside them, driving in the empty oncoming traffic lane, matching their speed.

"Declan?" Charlie said, trying not to sound overly concerned.

"I see ‘em. And there's another one coming up our rear."

Charlie turned around and looked out through the back window. There he was—a biker in a black leather jacket, helmet and goggles. The first thing that came to mind was Adolph Moses, but the guy behind the car looked different. He had a long blond beard blowing back from his face.

"Charlie. Don't panic," Declan said calmly.

Charlie saw the biker on the driver's side of the car. He was aiming a handgun at Declan.

As Charlie tried to make himself as small as possible, an oncoming car came around the curve and blared their horn as they were forced onto the shoulder of the road. The biker didn't give an inch.

Charlie poked his head up and saw a sign for a parking lot coming up ahead. Declan said, "I'm pulling over. Do whatever they ask but do it slowly. No quick moves, okay?"

"Sure," was all that Charlie could muster.

The small motorcade pulled up to the viewpoint parking lot. Signs indicated that the lot was closed for the season. The biker in the lead managed to force the gate open then drove in. The biker that had been riding beside them, with a silver lightning bolt decal on his helmet, pulled in front and led the car in. In the rearview mirror, Charlie saw the blond bearded biker close the gate and follow. Once they'd come to rest at the edge of the canyon, the three bikers dismounted and approached the car, guns drawn.

"Charlie, do what I do," Declan said.

Declan unsnapped his seat belt and slowly opened his door. He raised his hands so the bikers could see that he had nothing in them. Charlie did the same. Both got out of the Beast.

The biker that had been in the lead motioned to Charlie to get around to the driver's side of the car.

The biker with the long blond beard tucked his gun into his belt and came up to Declan. He patted him down. Charlie assumed he was looking for a gun. He then did the same with Charlie.

"We'll make this simple," said Lightning Bolt, who seemed to be in charge. "You give us the computer, and you don't die."

Charlie felt like throwing up.

"Charlie," Declan said in a calm voice. "Give the man the laptop. Slowly."

"Right," was the only word he could come up with.

Declan looked at the biker and said, "It's in the back seat. My friend will have to crawl in to get it."

Lightning Bolt looked at the blond biker who had patted Declan down and said, "Watch him from the other side. If he does anything stupid, shoot him."

Charlie started to shake. Tears clouded his vision.

"I'll get it for him," Declan said. "I wouldn't want your friend to shoot, miss and accidentally take one of you out."

Declan motioned to Charlie to stand out of the way, then slowly reached into the car and flipped the latch seat, allowing the driver's seat to snap forward. Charlie winced at the violent motion of the car seat. Declan remained calm. He reached into the back seat and lifted out the laptop. He backed up. "Can I ask what this is all about?"

Charlie screamed in his head, Don't talk to them. Just make them go away!

Lightning Bolt said, "All you need to know is that Monarch's been watching. They know all about that old house you've been visiting. And they know you've got the computer. They've got eyes everywhere and nothing escapes them."

Declan nodded and handed Lightning Bolt the computer.

Charlie hadn't moved a muscle. He focused on Declan. Declan nodded at him. Charlie wasn't sure if he was trying to tell him everything would be okay or if it was more of a it's been nice knowing you. Sorry about this.

Charlie watched Lightning Bolt walk to his bike and put the laptop into the pannier on the back. The biker who'd opened the gate to the parking lot mounted his own bike. The last to saddle up was the blond. Charlie was starting to feel that they might not die, when the blond pulled his gun out of the waistband of his pants.

Charlie closed his eyes and waited for the pain. He heard a gunshot, then the roar of the motorcycles starting up and departing. He carefully opened his eyes, expecting Declan to be lying on the ground, but Declan wasn't there. Then from behind him Charlie felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped.

"It's all right. You're okay. You did well," Declan said.

Charlie felt Declan's arms around him.

"They're gone now. I'm so proud of you. You did everything you were supposed to do."

"I don't feel like I did."

"You did better than I did the first time this sort of thing happened to me," Declan replied. "And you did better than the Beast."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

Declan turned Charlie around and showed him the car. The back right tire was flat.

"He shot my car! That fucking asshole shot my car!"

"Yup."

"What do we do now?" Charlie asked.

Declan shrugged. "I figure there's no point in calling the police. We might as well just change the tire and keep our appointment. This puts things in an entirely different light."