Chapter Fifteen

Seth

Getting back to Nelson’s office was the easy part. Waiting there, watching Nelson go about his daily business as though he didn’t have a care in the world was much harder. Not that it mattered what Seth did. He could shout and scream, and no one would hear or see his protestations. All he could do was wait for Nelson to do something with the tobacco tin in his jacket pocket. That, and wonder what Dante was doing.

The angel had said he’d stay outside and would join Seth again once Nelson left the building. They’d agreed that, if they got split up for any reason, they’d rendezvous at the bench where Seth had handed Dante coffee so many times over the last few months; the bench where Seth had first met Dante and noted how stunning his eyes were. Seth smiled at the memory of holding Dante in his arms; of being held in Dante’s arms. It helped chase a little of his anger toward Nelson away.

It was late by the time Nelson flicked the lights out in his office and headed out, the kind of time Seth would normally have been heading to the coffee truck to grab as many hot drinks as he could carry and afford. He felt a pang of guilt that he was here obsessing over the Doctor and the digital photographs Nelson was carrying around in his pocket, instead of checking on the men, women, and children he’d been trying to help for months. Not that there was anything he could do to help them anymore. Regret and anger tugged at him. He hoped someone would step up to look out for them.

Seth followed Nelson out of the building, at which point the editor of the Tribune hailed a cab and hopped into the back. Seth glanced around, but couldn’t immediately catch sight of Dante. There was no time to search for him, so Seth concentrated on keeping up with the cab. They could meet up at the bench; he just hoped he didn’t cause Dante too much worry.

Staying close to the cab was very different to keeping pace with Dante’s long, hurried strides. However, as with being able to move in any direction he wanted, moving at speed was a matter of concentration. He hovered over the roof of the cab, mostly so he wouldn’t end up passing through anything, like another vehicle and its passengers.

The trip seemed to take forever, especially the first part through downtown traffic, but once they were on the freeway, the cab traveled much faster, and it took all of Seth’s concentration to keep up with it.

Eventually, it pulled up outside a white house with a blue-grey tiled roof in the suburbs. There was a pause, then Nelson got out, jogging up the path and into the house. The front door was unlocked, and Seth didn’t quite make it through before it slammed shut through him.

“Robert?” A middle-aged woman wandered into the hallway from the kitchen, drying her hands on a cloth. She was a brunette, with carefully applied makeup.

“Daddy!”

Everyone, including Seth, looked up to the top of the stairs, where a little girl wearing bright blue pajamas sat. She hugged a worn, stuffed rabbit to her chest.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Nelson asked, jogging up the stairs to tickle the little girl.

“I wanted to say goodnight.”

Seth wasn’t aware Nelson had a kid. It wasn’t like they’d actually been friends. Nelson had given him a lot of photography work; that was all. And Seth had enjoyed working for him, and the assignments Nelson had sent him on.

He followed Nelson up the stairs, waiting outside while the editor chased his daughter back to bed. It was a private moment Seth had no intention of watching. He was there to find out what Nelson did with the memory card, not to pry into every facet of his life. What would happen to the brunette woman and the pretty little girl if the Doctor found out Nelson hadn’t destroyed the memory card? Seth didn’t want to think about it, but he found it hard to avoid. He didn’t doubt that the Doctor would hurt Nelson’s family to make him hand over the memory card.

“You’re playing with fire,” he muttered, unsure why he was bothering to keep his voice quiet.

A few minutes later, Nelson left his daughter’s room. Instead of going downstairs, he wandered down the hall a couple of doors and entered another room. Seth followed, finding himself in a small office. Nelson had removed his jacket and thrown it over the back of the chair. The rusted tobacco tin rested in his hand. After sitting down at the desk, Nelson opened the tin and slipped the memory card into a slot on the computer. A few seconds later, Seth’s photos filled the screen.

Seth didn’t want to look. He hadn’t set eyes on the images since the night he’d shot them. He’d torn the memory card out of his camera and almost ground it into tiny pieces under his shoe, but something had stopped him, and he’d kept it safe instead. He didn’t need to see them to know the horror they depicted. Despite his discomfort, his gaze locked on the screen, as though something was forcing him to look.

The memory card wasn’t damaged. The photos were are as clear as the night they’d been taken. The presence of the Doctor and the gun in his hand was irrefutable. When Nelson scrolled to the final photo, Seth managed to look away. He didn’t need to see the frozen image of his neighbor’s brains being blown out of his head.

Nelson ejected the memory card and put it back in the tin. He slipped off the chair onto his knees and opened the safe that squatted beneath the desk. Seth tried to see the combination, but Nelson’s body blocked his view. He caught a glimpse of papers and envelopes inside the safe, before Nelson placed the tin inside and shut the door with a clunk, locking it once more.

Seth waited until Nelson left the room and descended the stairs, before slipping his head and hand through the safe. Among the contents inside, Seth found several stacks of papers bound by rubber bands, and three passports. He swiped at the tobacco tin, but no matter how much he concentrated he couldn’t grasp it, let alone pick it up. He growled in frustration, before reminding himself that he knew the memory card’s location. Just because he couldn’t physically touch it, didn’t mean he couldn’t find a way to get hold of it, especially with Dante’s help.

Dante.

Dante would be worried. He’d done all he could at present; seen all he needed to see. He had to get back to the city and their rendezvous point. No longer having to follow a route prescribed by roads, Seth pointed himself in the direction of the city and moved as fast as he could through the air, dodging buildings, people and vehicles in his path, as best he could.

Dante was waiting for him at the bench. He wasn’t sitting in the relaxed pose that he’d been in two nights earlier. Instead, he was perched on the edge, drumming his fingers on the wooden seat. As soon as he spotted Seth, he stood and hurried over.

“I’m sorry,” Seth said quickly, cutting in before Dante had a chance to speak. “Nelson got into a cab, and I had to follow him.”

“I understand,” Dante said.

“I know where the memory card is,” Seth went on. “He put it in a safe in his study. We have to figure out a way to get it.” He hung his head. “But I didn’t manage to see the combination. Sorry.”

He was sorry for everything: for making Dante worry and for failing to get the memory card. But most of all, he was sorry that a small part of him was glad that he hadn’t been able to retrieve it, because when that happened, his unfinished business would be over and done with and he’d have to make his choice. Putting his own fleeting happiness above stopping the Doctor made Seth feel guilty as hell, but he wasn’t ready to leave the man who made him feel safe and wanted.

“Stop apologizing,” Dante said, a smile gracing his lips. He reached out to run his fingers through Seth’s hair.

Seth shivered at the brief contact and feeling of solidity. “I think we’ve done all we can for tonight. Breaking into Nelson’s house while he and his family are in the house isn’t an option.”

Dante chuckled. “Is breaking into his house an option?”

Seth shrugged. “Do we have any other choice? We need that memory card if we’re going to stop the Doctor.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dante promised him, “together.”

Seth had no doubt; they would find a way and then it would all be over. He’d be back up on that road, having to make the last decision he’d ever make.

“Is there...” He paused and puffed out his cheeks, looking down at the ground rather than Dante. “Is there somewhere we can go?” he asked. “Like the lighthouse? Maybe even back to the lighthouse?”

He stumbled over his words like a love-sick teenager, but was strangely okay with that; it was how he felt, after all. Dante opened his mouth to speak, but then slammed his lips shut, staring behind Seth. Seth swung around and found himself staring at Cal. The weirdest thing was Cal was staring at him.

“Oh, Seth,” Cal said with a shake of his head.

Seth’s eyes widened. “You can see me?”

Dante wasn’t touching him, so there was no way Cal should have been able to see him. But he could, and that made Seth both excited and annoyed. He’d felt so lonely, so the thought that someone else he knew could see him was amazing. But at the same time, Seth doubted Cal would let him go without an explanation. All he wanted to do was go somewhere quiet with Dante. When the hell had he started being so selfish?

“Yeah, kid. I can,” Cal said. “We can’t talk here. Come on.”

Seth squinted at him. Cal seemed oddly together. He wasn’t rambling, and he was making firm eye contact. But before he could question the older man about it, Cal started walking, his limp keeping the pace slow. Seth hesitated.

“Do you want to follow him?” Dante asked in a low voice. “We don’t have to.”

“He can see me,” Seth whispered. “I have to know why.” So he followed, comforted that Dante stayed right behind him.

As they navigated through an even quieter back alley, Cal’s limp gradually lessened and then disappeared altogether, until he was striding quickly through the darkness. He led them to a boarded-up building which looked like it used to be an apartment block. He pulled aside the flap of wood that was supposed to keep people from entering through the door.

“In here,” Cal said, entering without glancing back to confirm they were following him.

Once inside, Cal didn’t stop. He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket, lighting the way as he led them up several flights of stairs, to a height reducing the nighttime noise of the city to a faint background hum. It was a perfect place to kill someone, Seth thought grimly. Except he was already dead and he was fairly certain that Dante could handle himself.

“You stopped limping,” he said in a flat tone. “And you seem a lot more,” Seth paused, searching for the right words, “mentally together.”

Cal turned and fished a black wallet from the pocket of his battered coat. He flipped it open, revealing a shiny silver detective’s badge.

Shock jolted through Seth. “You’re a cop?”

Cal nodded. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Seth shook his head, not willing to part with any details about himself until he could wrap his head around Cal’s identity. “How can you see me?”

Cal shrugged. “Damned if I know. My best guess would be that my eyes saw far too much while I was in the army. But who knows how these things work?”

“That would make sense,” Dante said. “You saw a lot of people die?”

Cal snorted. “That would be the understatement of the decade. A lot of death and a whole lot of other horrors.” He flicked his gaze up and down Dante. “I’ll get back to just who the fuck you are later.” He shifted his attention back to Seth. “What happened? Forty-eight hours ago you were handing me a coffee now you’re—”

“Dead?” Seth asked in what he hoped would be a matter-of-fact tone, but actually came out as a pained whisper.

“Yeah,” Cal said, inclining his head a fraction. “I’m real sorry, kid. I wish I’d have known you were in trouble.”

Seth tried to shove his hands into his jeans pockets, but neither they, nor he, were real. “You wouldn’t have been able to help.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Have you heard of a man called the Doctor?” Seth asked.

“Mob boss,” Cal said. “Was operating out of Philly, but rumor has it he’s in town and means business.”

Philadelphia. He remembered from the hospital press conference that the Doctor had moved between at least four cities in the last four years. Philadelphia must have been the last place he’d caused trouble.

“Oh, he’s definitely here,” Seth said.

Cal’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve run into him before?”

“Ten years ago. I...” Seth hesitated.

He realized he didn’t know Cal at all. He’d thought Cal was a homeless veteran with a limp and probably a healthy dose of PTSD. But none of it was true. Cal wasn’t homeless, didn’t have a limp, and was as sharp as anyone he’d ever met. About the only thing Cal hadn’t lied about was being an Army veteran. And now he was standing in an abandoned building, demanding answers from a ghost and an angel and he didn’t seem even remotely phased. Not that Cal knew Dante was an angel, did he?

“I think you can trust him,” Dante said quietly, his hand hovering just above Seth’s shoulder, as though he’d thought better of revealing that he could solidify Seth with a simple touch.

Seth had no clue how Dante could tell that. Could the angel see people’s auras, or look into their souls? “I saw him murder someone ten years ago,” Seth said. “I took photos.”

Cal’s eyes popped wide. “Photos?”

Seth nodded. “Real incriminating ones. The trouble was, the Doctor saw me, so I ran. Then yesterday, I saw him again for the first time, and he recognized me.” He went through the motions of sighing, but without lungs, let alone breath in them, no sound came out. “His men tracked me down, and now I’m dead.”

“You know who the Doctor is?” Cal asked. “His real identity?”

Seth nodded slowly. “But, I’m not sure I’m a credible witness anymore,” he said, trying to force humor into his voice.

“And he has the photos?”

Seth shook his head.

“Then they’re somewhere safe?” Cal’s lips twitched up in excitement.

Seth shook his head again, suddenly no longer able to look the detective in the eyes. “I thought I’d sent them to someone I could trust. Someone who would make them public. I was wrong.”

Cal threaded his fingers through his hair and stared up at the filthy, crumbling ceiling. “Fuck.”

“You’re investigating the Doctor?” Dante asked, stepping forward to stand beside Seth.

Cal dropped his hands to his side. “No, not directly. I’ve been undercover for several months, trying to get intel on a branch of the mob that’s been recruiting kids right off the street.” He peered at Seth, amusement playing across his face. “I was suspicious of you to start with.”

“Me?”

“Sure. You showed up out of nowhere, handing out coffee and food and you specifically directed any kids that were hanging around to a shelter.”

Seth felt something uncomfortable stir within him, a sense of dread.

“But I checked you and the shelter out, and you both came up clean. I guess good samaritans really do exist.” He sighed. “Did exist, anyway. I really am sorry.”

“I’m a ghost. How are you not freaking out?”

“I told you, kid, I’ve seen a lot.”

“I’m not a kid.”

Cal looked him up and down. “You’re what? Half my age? At least? You’re a kid compared to me. Live with it.” He grimaced. “Sorry. I can be an insensitive jerk at times.”

“We know where the memory card with the photographs is,” Dante said, changing the subject. “But we can’t get to it. Perhaps you could help?”

Seth stared at the angel. Maybe he was a bit overly distrusting, but Dante seemed to swing to the other extreme; unless he really could see something in Cal that Seth couldn’t.

Cal scratched his chin. “Where is it?”

“The editor of the Daily Tribune has it in a safe at his house,” Dante explained.

Cal tilted his head and shifted his attention back to Seth. “Can’t you drift through walls and grab it?”

Seth flattened his lips. “If you think I can drift through walls, what makes you think I can pick anything up?”

“Good point. It’s probably a good thing. I’d have to explain to my boss where I’d got them from, so he could convince the DA to use them to bring the Doctor down.” He turned back to Dante. “Who are you?”

“A friend of Seth’s,” Dante replied. “That’s all you need to know.”

“A friend who can see ghosts?”

“Just like you.”

The two men stared at each other for several seconds, eyes narrowed, while Seth looked on. He wasn’t sure of the point of their silent posturing, but he kept quiet while it transpired.

Cal cleared his throat. “And you’re sure he’s not going to print them or hand them over to the cops?”

“I heard him talking on the phone to the Doctor,” Seth replied miserably. “He was supposed to destroy them, but decided to keep them for ‘insurance’ instead.” He felt stupid making air quotes, seeing as though he was mostly formed of air, but he did it anyway.

“Probably a stupid move on his part,” Cal said. “But useful to us, if we can get hold of them.”

“Can’t you just get a search warrant for his house?” Seth asked.

“On what grounds? The say so of a ghost and a random guy with Jesus hair?”

“My hair is fucking fabulous, don’t be hating,” Dante said.

Cal barked out a laugh. “Fabulous or not, I’d be chucked in an asylum if I even dared to ask.” He paced back and forth. “I’ll have to look into him first. Let me see what I can find out. Meet me back here tomorrow night?”

“You want to keep us in the loop?” Seth asked.

“Sure, why not?” Cal’s expression became thoughtful, his lips drooping slightly at the corners. “You might prove useful. You could procure intel that no one else could.” He folded his arms. “I want to take as much of the mob down as possible, kid. You and these photos are the best leads I’ve had in a long time.”

“But I could just tell you who the Doctor is.”

Cal shook his head. “No. If I’m going to take him down, I need to have a solid evidence trail that can’t be disputed. As much as I’m itching to know who the bastard is, I have to follow the clues and figure it out. Or, hopefully, I’ll get to look at those photos of yours very soon and see for myself.” He strode toward the exit of the room. “Tomorrow night. Here. Okay?”

Seth and Dante both nodded. Seeming satisfied with that, Cal gave them a curt nod and left the room, leaving them in almost complete darkness. Soft beams of moonlight snuck through the gaps between the planks of wood that had been nailed over the smashed windows, lending an eerie silver glow to the room.

They waited until the sound of Cal’s footsteps faded completely, then Dante turned to Seth, grasping his arms and making him corporeal once more. Seth’s teeth bit into his lower lip as a jolt of exhilaration ran through him at Dante’s touch.

“You mentioned you wanted to go somewhere quiet?” Dante said, smiling gently. “Have you ever seen the sunrise?”

Seth frowned. “You know I have. I slept rough on the streets for years. Watching the sunrise is overrated.”

Dante chuckled. “Maybe you’ve just never seen it in the right place, or in the right company.”

Dante let Seth go and stepped away, his stunning blue eyes sparkling in the semi-darkness. Instantly, Seth became incorporeal again.

“Do you trust me?” Dante asked.

Seth nodded without hesitation.

“Then follow me.”