Flesh (Flesh 1) - Page 55/74

“Everyone but Sam and Andy can leave,” said Finn in a no-nonsense tone. “Now.”

People muttered and murmured about uppity newcomers taking over, but they did as told. Finn’s cop face brooked no nonsense.

Dan stepped out of the doorway to make room for the exodus. “You want me to head off?”

“Gimme a minute here.” Finn pulled out a notebook and opened it to a fresh page. “Andy, was there a note? Anything?”

Andy shook his head so hard his teeth clattered. “No. I didn’t see nothing.”

“We already searched,” reported Santa with another gusty breath. “Andy, you’re fine, son. Run on.”

The boy lit out the door.

Finn wet his lips and studied the ground for a moment. “Sam—”

“Hold up. I know what you’re gonna say, but this is a clear-cut case.” Sam shook his head over the corpse, bushy brows pulled tight.

“Spirits around the place aren’t good as it is, Finn. We need to deal with this as fast as we can. This isn’t the first case of someone taking their own life, and it probably won’t be the last. We don’t need to encourage anybody, alright?”

Finn said nothing.

“You saw them out there,” said Sam. “Some of them are barely holding up as it is. We cannot afford to make a big thing out of this.”

“A woman’s dead, Sam,” growled Dan, letting his temper slip through. “That’s kind of a big thing.”

Finn turned back to the body without comment.

Lindsay wore a pale pink summer nightgown and her long hair hung loose off the end of the table. Daniel might have believed her asleep if not for the state of her neck. Shit, what a mess. The kid didn’t seem fazed. He retained the supernatural cool as he did his job.

Other bruises littered the woman’s arms and legs. Of course, she’d gone out daily on supply runs. People got knocked around moving supplies and climbing in and out of pick-up trucks, for certain.

Dan took a long hard look out the door, needing a minute. With the windows closed, the scent of death hung heavy in the warm air.

When had death become so commonplace? He f**king hated it. And he should be busy looking for his girl because he sure could do with one of her smiles right about now.

“She lost her husband a few months back,” Santa sighed. “This isn’t a complete surprise. Everyone’s doing it tough. Hel , I had a fifteen-year-old OD on painkillers three weeks back.”

Finn stared at the older man for a long time before answering. “Alright. We, ah, we have to find Ali at any rate.”

“Your girlfriend? She went out on a supply run with Erin,” Santa said with a sigh. “They headed out just after dawn. Can’t even keep my own daughter safe.”

Finn’s professional face gave way to horror. Ali was out there? The ground beneath Daniel’s feet seemed to give way. The pain in his chest almost brought him to his knees. How he kept to his feet he had no idea. “Oh, f**k.”

***

Daniel stood beside Finn, staring at the mammoth garbage truck serving as Blackstone’s front gate. The sun was setting, lighting the horizon in shades of gold. It had been the longest day of his life. Fear and fatigue should have long since left him numb. It would have been kinder. Thoughts of Ali lying dead somewhere kept repeating in his head. He couldn’t escape them.

But she’d be okay. She would be.

The raiding party had been headed for a town forty minutes due west. They should have been back by now. They would be back any moment. Damn but he wanted his girl back – like, yesterday.

Daniel knew she was independent, knew she wanted to take care of herself. But there had to be a happy middle ground that allowed everyone to sleep at night. Something to stop the heart attack, or whatever it was, threatening to throw open his chest.

He wasn’t the only one in pain. Finn stood beside him, buzzing with tension.

“She’s fine.” Daniel leant against the side of a pick-up.

“Fine like Lindsay?” Neither man spoke for a minute. Then Finn turned on him, face set. “She doesn’t do this again. Run off out of our sight.”

“You gonna put her in a cage?”

“Fuck’s sake,” the kid bared his teeth. “You cannot be okay with this.”

An older man approached, hand in hand with a young woman. The fair-haired prince might have been strung out, but no one else knew. Finn was in pillar of the community mode, answering questions and offering reassurances. Yes, it was very sad, a great loss to the community. No, plans had not yet been made regarding the funeral. On and on it went. Death might be familiar, but Lindsay’s supposed suicide had rocked the town.

When the couple wandered away, Finn turned back to him. “You’re going to let her pull this shit? Are you serious?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“Same thing I’ve been saying all day. Calm down, wait and see what she comes out with.”

The kid grunted. “You could not be more f**king wrong. I thought you wanted to keep her safe.”

“How do you think you got an invitation into our bed in the first place?” Dan snapped.

Finn scowled at him, eyes furious. Yeah, wel . It was going around.

“Her safety comes first with me. Always. Bossing her around wil only drive her away. Trust me, I already tried it.”

An approaching rumble of engines brought the argument to an abrupt halt, as did the cry of the lookout sitting atop the cab of the garbage truck. The truck powered up and slowly reversed, clearing the entrance. A minute later, the first of the vehicles, piled high with supplies, cruised in.

The raiding party was in good spirits. Didn’t last long.

The flow of greetings cut off sharply as the pall engulfed the returning crews. And there she stood, all intact. Oh, thank f**k for that.

Seemed sensation returned where he’d been deaf, dumb and blind before. His girl lived on and all was okay.

Finn marched up to the pick-up truck Ali rode in. She stood in the cage on the back of the bed, hair windblown and nose pink from the sun. She stil ed at Finn’s approach, reading his body language just fine.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Lindsay’s dead, amongst other things,” Finn said, shoving a hand at her. “Come on.”

“What?” The color dropped from Erin’s face. Her father beckoned her down while Finn cursed in a low voice. Apt, since he had wel and truly messed up breaking the news.