Page 60 of The Attercop

“Sam. It’s Charlie. We have a problem.” Charlie’s voice broke. “Declan’s gone missing and I need your help. We both need your help.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Sam’s voice sounded clinical.

“Mickey, who runs Bar-None, was with him around ten.”

“That was only a few hours ago,” Sam replied. “Why do you think he’s gone missing?”

“Because when I got back to the office, he was gone. I was able to track where his van is, and I’m here now but he’s nowhere to be found. He left his phone on and tucked it away in the glove box. I think he wanted me to find it. This isn’t like him, Sam. I didn’t know who else to call.”

There was a lengthy silence on the other end. He could make out a quiet “Sam, what’s wrong?” It was Gwen.

“Nothing, hun. Go back to sleep,” Sam said, softly.

Charlie heard the sound of what he figured was the bedroom door closing. After a short time, Sam spoke up at a normal volume. “Okay, he’s only been missing for…five hours, give or take, and he hasn’t put out a clear call for help—although leaving his phone behind is suspicious. Anyway, there’s no indication that he is technically missing. We can’t get the police involved if it’s just that Declan’s gone undercover investigating…or maybe visiting a…friend.”

“Declan doesn’t have afriend, as you put it,” Charlie snapped.

“Look, I don’t know what your personal arrangements are, or are not—”

“And he would never go behind my back and do something like that,” Charlie interrupted. “It wouldn’t make sense. He knew I’d be expecting him at home tonight, and given the break-ins, he’d know…he’d know I’d be worried that something had happened. And it has.”

“All right. Declan wouldn’t do that to you. Sorry. Okay, I’ll call up Gary Sawchuck and fill him in on what you just told me and I’ll have him put surveillance on Declan’s van. Why don’t I meet you at your office first thing in the morning. If nothing’s shifted by then, I’ll make sure they put all forces into action. That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” Charlie mumbled.

“Good. Now, I want you to promise me thatyou’llbe safe,” Sam said.

“I’ll do my best.”

“What is it with you guys? A simple ‘yes’ just isn’t in your vocabulary. Just don’t do anything too stupid,” he said, then disconnected.

Charlie looked at Declan’s phone in his hand. He checked Declan’s last calls and texts, but there was no sign of anything that was of any help, just a call between Mickey and Declan earlier that night. Declan would normally have texted Charlie at least once during the night. It just seemed strange.

With nothing left to do, Charlie drove back home and went up to the dark apartment…alone.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Charlie drifted in and out of sleep. His dreams were filled with visions of people lurking in the shadows, clambering along ledges, silently breaking windows—his windows. He lay in bed looking toward the night sky. In one of the window panes, he saw the reflection of Declan’s side of the bed, but there was no one there.

Then he heard a sound…a breathy moan. It was Duck, softly whining.

What the fuck is he doing here?

Duck turned to Charlie, but he was somehow…different. He wasn’t the happy dog that drooled every time someone noticed him. His eyes were rheumy. He looked painfully sad. Duck lowered his head and snuffled his way to the bed. He put his front paws on Declan’s side and sniffed at the sheets, then made his way back to the windowsill and bayed at the outside world.

Charlie tried to move, but his limbs refused to obey. He tried to shout, but he couldn’t make a sound. He tried again, his lungs gasping for air, filling themselves to the brim—then, with all the power left in him, Charlie let loose a bellowing cry like his life depended on it. He hoped that Declan would rush to him from another room, toss himself onto the bed, grab Charlie by the shoulders and tell him everything was going to be okay. But Declan didn’t come. Was this a nightmare, or was this real?

Charlie fought to extract himself from the tendrils of the dream-world, using every ounce of strength he had to drag himself out of the dying night terror.

He tried to sit up again. This time, he could move. He opened his eyes and looked at his watch—nine a.m. Sunshine streamed through the window, but there was no dog, and there was no Declan.

A sound from the floor below startled him…footsteps. Charlie crept down the stairs and made his way through Declan’s office. He cautiously opened the door to the main room, praying it might be Declan, but it wasn’t. It was Mrs B who was at her desk, removing the dust covers from her keyboard and monitors. She neatly folded them and placed them in their appropriate spot on the shelf. When she turned around, her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You look like you slept in your clothes last night. What’s gotten into you?”

She paused as Charlie started to cry.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” she asked.

“Jules is missing. I botched the case. And now I can’t find Declan. I think someone’s taken him.”