A Hard Rain Part 6

Dix was stunned at what faced them. The road wound through an open area down to what looked like a cliff face over the water. Then the road went along the steep drop-off to what could only be described as a castle sitting on a rocky outcropping. It looked dark and ancient, with only one light in a single window on the second floor.

"A castle?" Mr. Data asked.

"Looks that way," Dix said. He had no idea there were such structures in the area of this city. It looked like it belonged on a coast in Europe.

"That's Ghost's headquarters?" Dix asked.

"That's it," Detective Bell said, leaning forward between Mr. Data and Dix. "Creepy old place, ain't it?"

"Gothic," the Luscious Bev said softly. The word sent chills down Dix's spine.

Dix motioned for Mr. Data to stop the car and he did, just at the point where the road turned and moved along the cliff face. Even under the dark night sky, Dix could see the waves crashing on the rocks far below his window, the sound almost louder than the car engine. And the smell of the ocean was overpowering, making the air thick and rich, heavy with the dampness.

"So how do we get in there?" Dix asked, glancing around at his friend. It didn't seem possible, without a full-out a.s.sault, and Dix didn't want to risk any of his people with that unless he knew for certain the Heart of the Adjuster was inside.

"Easy," Bell said. "Follow me. Mr. Data, you and this wonderful woman stay in the car."

Detective Bell then opened the back door of the car, letting in the sound of the ocean like turning up a hi-fi.

Mr. Data glanced at Dix, who nodded. "Go for help if we're not out in an hour."

"Gotcha, boss," Mr. Data said, turning off the car, which had the effect of making the ocean pounding on the rocks sound even louder.

"Be careful in there," Bev said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Dix patted her hand. "Don't worry."

"Yeah, right," Bev said. "What's there to worry about?"

Dix laughed and got out, standing beside the car not more than five feet from a long drop to very sharp rocks.

Both Mr. Data and Bev got out of the car as well and moved to stand in front of it where Bell waited. Dix joined them, glad to be getting more distance between himself and that cliff. He normally was not bothered by heights, but tonight, on this bluff, in this darkness, it felt dangerous.

The car's headlights shaped them, brightly lighting one side while leaving the other half of their bodies in blackness. It was a strange look. But Dix liked how it made Bev look alluring and mysterious.

"Coming, old man?" Detective Bell asked Dix. Then, like he was out for a Sunday walk in the park, Bell started out, heading up the road toward Ghost Johnson's castle on the rocks as if he didn't have a care in the world. Or a brain in his head.

"If there are problems," Dix said to Mr. Data, "have everyone report to Mr. Riker."

"Right-o, boss," Mr. Data said. "Keep your hand on your piece and your legs together."

Dix looked at his friend. He had no idea what he meant.

Mr. Data only shrugged.

"You comin'?" Bell asked, stopping just outside the light from the car.

Dix nodded and without another word to his companions, moved up the rough dirt and rock road.

"Just act natural and follow my lead," Bell said as they moved along, watching their footing.

Behind them their car seemed to grow smaller, as if climbing the hill was taking them a farther distance away than it should have. And in front of them the castle loomed into the sky, growing bigger with each step, a threatening stone structure with one light showing no welcome at all.

A wind whipped at them, stronger than it should have been, considering that a hundred paces down the road there had been no wind. A cat dashed across the road, startling Dix before it vanished into the brush on the right.

They kept moving, step after step taking them closer and closer to the castle that loomed large over them.

Suddenly a scream cut the night air, overpowering the sounds of the ocean like a hot knife through soft b.u.t.ter.

"What?" Detective Bell said, his gun instantly in his hand.

Dix also had his gun out, but there didn't seem to be anything happening, and there was no way of telling on this rocky, wind-whipped bluff where the scream had come from.

Dix glanced back down the road. Bev and Mr. Data were both still beside the car. They were acting as if they hadn't heard anything.

The woman's scream cut through the night air again, this time louder and even closer.

Then, as if coming out of nowhere, she was there, running at them.

He dark hair flowed back from her head; her thin white nightgown barely covered her shapely body. She was looking behind her at the castle as she ran, not seeing them.

Then she looked ahead, right at them, and the terror on her face and in her eyes was clear. Dixon Hill had never seen anyone so afraid.

"Hang on there!" Detective Bell shouted to her.

The woman seemed not to hear him.

Or even see them.

She just kept running, right at the cliff face to the right of them, glancing over her shoulder, then back, never slowing, as if something was chasing her in a nightmare.

Around them the night air become arctic, the wind now ice-cold and biting into any exposed skin. Dix felt his skin tingle and his hair stand on the back of his neck. Fear ripped at him, as if something wanted him to turn and run.

He held his ground.

Bell stepped toward the woman as if to grab her, stop her flight.

She stepped sideways, dodging his grasp, and went right past him.

Dix jumped to grab her, but she eluded him as well.

A half dozen steps later, with a bloodcurdling scream of terror, the woman in the nightgown flung herself over the edge of the cliff.

Her scream seemed to echo as she dropped, then was suddenly cut off.

And for a moment, not even the ocean made a sound.

Clues from Dixon Hill's notebook in "The Case of the Missing Heart"

The Heart is not in Redblock's headquarters, and most likely not in the Undertaker's place either.

Never ride with dead bodies in a morgue truck.

Ghost Johnson, Benny the Banger, Harvey Upstairs Benton, and Slippery Stan Hand are the main suspects on the Redblock s.n.a.t.c.h.

A woman killed herself in front of Ghost Johnson's headquarters.

Chapter Four.

Gothic Suspense Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry Section One: Who Was That Woman?

D IXON H ILL STOOD BESIDE Detective Bell as the cold wind whipped at them, snapping their pant legs, yanking their coats away from their bodies. Below, the ocean pounded into the rocks of the cliff, hammering away so hard that the ground shook. There was no sign of the woman's body. Dix had no doubt she had died from the fall. And even if she had survived, the cold water would soon take her, or pound her to death on the rocks. Not a pretty way to die. If there was such a thing.

"We better get some help out here looking for her body," Bell said, his words snapped away by the wind. "If she's going to come back to life, like I did, she's going to want to be out of that water when it happens."

The thought sent shivers down Dix's spine. No one deserved that fate, dying and then coming back time after time, only to die an ugly death again and again. The possibility of that happening to her hadn't crossed his mind. He had been more concerned about finding out who she was, what she had been running from, and if it had anything to do with the Heart of the Adjuster that he needed to find.

"Maybe Ghost Johnson's would have a phone," Dix said, glancing up at the castle that loomed over them.

Bell nodded. "And maybe he might know who she was."

"And what she was running from," Dix said.

"Yeah, that too," Bell said.

With one more glance over the edge of the high cliff at the black rocks and pounding surf below, Dix turned and headed up the road the last few hundred paces to the front of the castle. Detective Bell was at his side.

They turned off the road and climbed up the steps to a huge, wooden front door that looked like it was large enough to let trucks through. Just as they reached the door and Dix was wondering if they were going to have to knock, a man stepped out of the bushes on the right. He was wearing all black so that he blended into the night like a shadow cast by a faint moon. The gun in his hand was very big and shined like a warning beacon.

As he moved forward a light snapped on, filling the area with just enough light to push back the darkness to the edge of the walkway leading from the road.

"You the one chasing the woman?" Bell asked.

The guy looked at him like he had lost his mind. "You have no business here. Leave now."

"We'd love to," Bell said, "but we have a few problems. A woman just tossed herself off your cliff, so we need to borrow a phone. And we need to talk to Ghost."

"Ghost ain't seein' anyone," the guy said, his voice low and deep and as menacing as the gun he kept pointed at them.

"Tell him Detective Bell is here," Bell said, smiling at the man. "He'll see me."

"You don't hear so well, do ya, fella?" The big guy stepped toward them, his eyes cold and threatening. "Ghost ain't seein' anyone. Especially cops."

The guy almost spit the last word. Dix had no idea what they were going to do now. Somehow they needed to talk to Ghost Johnson and get help on the way to find the woman's body.

With a quick step Detective Bell kicked the gun from the guard's hand, sending it spinning into the air and banging against the wooden door.

Dix snapped his gun out from under his rain coat and had it trained on the big guy before the kicked weapon stopped moving. But it was clear the situation wasn't what Dix thought it was. The guy didn't make a move at Bell, and Bell didn't make a move at him. Instead both of them laughed.

Okay, now Dixon Hill was confused. The laughs from the two men seemed to echo out over the ocean, pulled there by the wind and the very strangeness of it all.

"Pretty good," the big guard said as his laughing slowed and he shook the hand that held the gun, as if it was stinging from the kick, "for a cop who was headed for a morgue slab just a few hours ago."

Dix stared at the guard. A moment before he had been speaking roughly, now his voice was cultured and softer.

"You made it too easy on me," Bell said, then laughed again. He stepped forward and patted the big guard on the back. "How'd you hear about the little death and rebirth problem so fast?"

The guard frowned at Bell. "You know I have connections, Detective. It had me saddened, I must say, until I heard of your recovery."

"I wasn't any too pleased with it myself," Bell said. Then both men laughed again.

All Dixon Hill could do was stand there and stare. It was like he was on some stage, under a spotlight, and he didn't know his part or his lines.

Bell motioned that Dix put his gun away and Dix did as he was told. Then Bell did the introduction. "Dixon Hill, I'd like you to meet Ghost Johnson, the greatest patron of the arts this city has ever seen."

"The Private Eye?" Ghost asked, his eyebrow rising as he stepped forward and shook Dix's hand. "I have heard you are looking for some object that has been lost. Am I correct?"

Dix was shocked. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this guy clearly didn't follow any of the mob boss patterns in this city.

"Yeah," Dix said. "Lost or taken. It's a small ball, smaller than a woman's fist, painted gold."

Ghost nodded. "That was what I had heard. I'm afraid I haven't seen it. I do so wish I could help you."

Dix nodded, still stunned at the man's cultured voice and att.i.tude. He didn't know if he should just take the man at his word or press forward. Clearly this man could act.

"So what about the dame?" Bell asked. "You know, the one who just did a leap onto the rocks?"

Now Dix could tell it was Ghost's turn to be surprised. "To what woman are you referring? I thought you were joking, as you are wont to do in situations such as this."

Bell looked at Ghost closely, then nodded. "You honestly don't know, do you?"

Ghost shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about. When you first mentioned it, I just thought it a ploy to distract me. Part of our little game."

"I wish," Bell said. "As we were walking up the driveway, a woman wearing a very thin nightgown screamed and ran past us. We couldn't stop her before she went over the cliff."

"Clearly something or someone was chasing her," Dix added. "She was terrified. And she appeared to be coming from this direction."

"What exactly was her appearance?" Ghost asked.

"Long dark hair," Bell said. "Dark eyes. Slender, maybe early twenties in age."

"Wearing a white, thin nightgown," Dix added, the image of the woman clear in his mind. It would be a long time before he would forget her. "No shoes or slippers, and completely in terror. Running away from something."