Page 37 of Thunder Road

Vic knew that lined up with the national average, allowing for the fact that not all people who went missing were reported or tracked—or wanted to be found.

“But the ones we couldn’t find haunted me,” Henshaw went on. “I couldn’t figure out why them and not others. We didn’t find blood or bodies. In most cases, they left all their belongings behind. It was like someone just waved a wand, and poof, they were gone. Sometimes, I still get dreams about that.”

“What’s your theory? I promise that no matter how wild, we won’t laugh,” Vic told him.

“Okay, here goes. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Ever see one of those sci-fi shows where someone steps into a rift between our world and somewhere else? I don’t know what it would take tomake that happen—secret government technology, some sort of Russian cyber tech, alien abduction, or real magic—but I think that something unnatural happened to those people.”

Henshaw waited for a reaction, and Vic could see the man was braced for ridicule. When they didn’t react, he looked from one to the other. “That’s it? You don’t think I’m nuts?”

Ross shook his head. “Nope. We’re just trying to figure out how to fix it.”

“I’m not the only one who thought there was something spooky going on,” Henshaw said. “There was a lady who claimed to be a witch, hung around with some of the bikers. For a while there, she did a big business in spirit bells. Then the gang wars and the disappearances stopped. Damnedest thing.”

Ross and Vic exchanged a look.Because of the bargain—which the troll is breaking.

“Was there anything special about the spirit bells the witch made?” Vic asked.

The old man dug into his pocket and pulled out a small steel bell about as wide around as his thumb. It was carved with runes and sigils, some of which Vic recognized from Simon’s work and made a pleasant ringing sound.

“I used to ride back in the day. Started out as a motorcycle cop. When I retired, the former head of the club gave me this, said I’d done right by his folks, and wished me well. I didn’t ride much after that, but I always hung onto it.”

He handed the bell to Vic, who wondered what Simon would make of it.

“I don’t know the name of the witch—she might not even be around anymore. But I thought the bell brought me good luck. Now I’m giving it to you, hoping you can figure out how to stop the disappearances once and for all.” He grinned and winked.

“Thank you.” Vic held the bell in his cupped hand. He felt certain its magic and protections were real. “But don’t you still need this?”

“I got it inked a long time ago, just in case.” Henshaw pulled up his sleeve to display a perfect replica of both sides of the bell. “This way, I can’t lose it.” He pushed out of his chair to stand. “Hope you boys can finish what we started.”

“We plan to do our best,” Ross vowed.

Vic insisted on walking Henshaw to his car, unsurprised that the retired cop had parked in the back, the employee lot. Henshaw gave him a look. “You’re not just being nice to an old man. What do you think is out here?”

“We think there’s an ancient creature that was held at bay for a very long time by protections that have faded, and it’s behind the disappearances. Friends of ours are trying to figure out how to rein it in again.”

“I’m guessing that’s off the books, unless the police department got a whole lot more exciting since my day,” Henshaw said with a knowing look.

“Definitely off the books,” Vic replied. “Although our captain knows and supports it.”

“Good. There were always strange things that couldn’t quite be explained. Even back in my day, there were some guys who took care of that stuff. The rest of us didn’t want to know the details, but we were glad they were around.” Henshaw gave him a jaunty salute before getting into his Toyota sedan and driving away.

Vic watched the taillights recede and shivered even though the night was warm. He turned in a slow circle, feeling like he was being watched. Half a block away, in the darkness, just outside the streetlight’s glow, he spotted a tall figure. It was too far to see features, but Vic had the sense the person was staring at him, and it sent a chill down his spine.

He blinked and the man was gone. When Vic came back inside, he heard shouting and swearing. He ran toward the front desk, where he saw several uniformed cops wrestling three clearly inebriated men toward the holding cells.

“Book them on drunk and disorderly,” the senior officer said. “We’ll get their details when they sober up.”

“I’m telling you, Don just disappeared!” one of the drunks shouted. “Like in the movies. Gone.” He was a wild-looking man in his thirties with a mane of reddish hair, a bushy beard, and he smelled like beer.

“Can you pull him into an interrogation room?” Vic asked the desk cop. “I need to talk to him.”

“He’s pretty trashed.”

“Believe it or not, he’s making sense to me, and I don’t want him to change his story. I’ll have Ross with me. You can run the cameras.”

The cop at the desk gave him a dubious look, but did as Vic requested.

“Have a seat,” Vic told the drunk, who was handcuffed to the table. “I want to hear about the person who disappeared.”

---