The Carnival of Curiosities (Matt Drake Book 27) Read online

  The Carnival of Curiosities

  (Matt Drake #27)

  By

  David Leadbeater

  Other Books by David Leadbeater:

  The Matt Drake Series

  A constantly evolving, action-packed romp based in the escapist action-adventure genre:

  The Bones of Odin (Matt Drake #1)

  The Blood King Conspiracy (Matt Drake #2)

  The Gates of Hell (Matt Drake 3)

  The Tomb of the Gods (Matt Drake #4)

  Brothers in Arms (Matt Drake #5)

  The Swords of Babylon (Matt Drake #6)

  Blood Vengeance (Matt Drake #7)

  Last Man Standing (Matt Drake #8)

  The Plagues of Pandora (Matt Drake #9)

  The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake #10)

  The Ghost Ships of Arizona (Matt Drake #11)

  The Last Bazaar (Matt Drake #12)

  The Edge of Armageddon (Matt Drake #13)

  The Treasures of Saint Germain (Matt Drake #14)

  Inca Kings (Matt Drake #15)

  The Four Corners of the Earth (Matt Drake #16)

  The Seven Seals of Egypt (Matt Drake #17)

  Weapons of the Gods (Matt Drake #18)

  The Blood King Legacy (Matt Drake #19)

  Devil’s Island (Matt Drake #20)

  The Fabergé Heist (Matt Drake #21)

  Four Sacred Treasures (Matt Drake #22)

  The Sea Rats (Matt Drake #23)

  Blood King Takedown (Matt Drake #24)

  Devil’s Junction (Matt Drake #25)

  Voodoo soldiers (Matt Drake #26)

  The Alicia Myles Series

  Aztec Gold (Alicia Myles #1)

  Crusader’s Gold (Alicia Myles #2)

  Caribbean Gold (Alicia Myles #3)

  Chasing Gold (Alicia Myles #4)

  Galleon’s Gold (Alicia Myles #5)

  The Torsten Dahl Thriller Series

  Stand Your Ground (Dahl Thriller #1)

  The Relic Hunters Series

  The Relic Hunters (Relic Hunters #1)

  The Atlantis Cipher (Relic Hunters #2)

  The Amber Secret (Relic Hunters #3)

  The Hostage Diamond (Relic Hunters #4)

  The Rocks of Albion (Relic Hunters #5)

  The Rogue Series

  Rogue (Book One)

  The Disavowed Series:

  The Razor’s Edge (Disavowed #1)

  In Harm’s Way (Disavowed #2)

  Threat Level: Red (Disavowed #3)

  The Chosen Few Series

  Chosen (The Chosen Trilogy #1)

  Guardians (The Chosen Trilogy #2)

  Heroes (The Chosen Trilogy #3)

  Short Stories

  Walking with Ghosts (A short story)

  A Whispering of Ghosts (A short story)

  All genuine comments are very welcome at:

  [email protected]

  Twitter: @dleadbeater2011

  Visit David’s website for the latest news and information:

  davidleadbeater.com

  Contents

  Other Books by David Leadbeater:

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

  Other Books by David Leadbeater:

  CHAPTER ONE

  By the time Matt Drake reached Colorado he knew he’d made a mistake.

  It wasn’t just sitting on a bus for endless, uncomfortable hours. It wasn’t the distance between them or the fact that he missed them all—even the Swede. It was simpler than that.

  We work well together. As a team, we can face anything. Alone... we’re more vulnerable. The madness with Marinette and her voodoo soldiers proved that.

  At a rest stop, somewhere between the bleakest, loneliest town Drake had ever seen and a random complex of strip malls, he called them up.

  “Drakey?” Alicia asked. “Are you okay?”

  It was more than just a greeting. He’d left insisting they don’t contact each other for several weeks.

  “Aye, I’m good, love. Where are you?”

  “What’s the Yorkshire idiot want now?” familiar tones asked.

  Drake frowned. “Is that Dahl? He sounds awful close.”

  “Oh, there’s still a few inches separating us.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  Dahl must have plucked Alicia’s phone from her hand. “We’re in a bar in Clearwater, drinking. I thought you wanted radio silence.”

  He had, and regretted it. Most of the team would be in Clearwater then.

  “Look,” he said. “If you idiots are gonna stick together, we might as well all stick together.” Drake would never admit he’d been wrong, and this was as close as the Swede would ever get. “Strength in numbers.”

  “That’s good,” Dahl said simply and graciously, for once. “When will we see you?”

  Drake hadn’t been sure about returning to Coyote at all. The first part of that hesitancy came from his association with the deaths of the two serial killers. However good his intentions had been, and however hard they had tried to kill him, the law was understandably tough on those that fled crime scenes. The second part was not knowing how much the woman whose life he’d saved had told the police. By far the most important part was splitting up the team once more—the argument that they’d be stronger, faster and harder to kill together had been growing on him even then.

  Especially in light of everything that went down in Black Snake Swamp.

  Apart, they had succumbed to Marinette’s guiles and trickeries. Apart, they had been captured, made mere puppets, carrying out the Witch Queen’s every vile command. Drake had thought, even separated, they would pose a formidable threat, but Marinette’s unpredictable tactics and remarkable assaults had outdone them. Even Dahl. Even Alicia. Even Drake.

  But not Mai.

  It didn’t bear thinking about what might have happened if Mai and Bryant hadn’t come to their rescue.

  “You still there, Drake?” Dahl’s voice cut across his thoughts.

  Drake realized that motivations, logic and justifications were still bombarding him, making it even harder to understand why he’d embarked on this
trip.

  “Look,” he said. “I’m heading back to Clearwater. The team is stronger together. But first, since I’m practically in Coyote, I’m gonna have a quick mooch around, check if owt’s wrong. I’m knackered and need a kip anyway.”

  Dahl coughed. “Can anyone translate that bollocks for me?”

  Drake growled. “Listen. I’m gonna check that the woman is all right and then head back. Book me a room.”

  “Don’t worry,” Alicia said. “You can share mine and Dahl’s.”

  Drake wondered if he should threaten to box her lugs, but decided he couldn’t be arsed to decode the phrase for Dahl. In the end, he told them he’d see them soon and ended the call, upbeat for the first time in days.

  The bus stop in Coyote came into view. Nothing had changed, with the white and green mountains still dominating the view, overseeing the surrounding countryside like venerable patriarchs. Any scenery beyond the concrete and metal bus station was hidden by ranks of lush trees. Drake snapped out of it and exited the bus, stepping down into a sunny but crisp day, still trying to shrug off the surreal, disturbing, eerie emotions that being close to Marinette had raised in him. Yes, the team had won well in the end, mostly thanks to Bryant and his mercenaries, but the memories of being held in total servitude, of being forced to do something against your will and being fully conscious whilst you did it, was beyond humiliating. The experience had corroded his core, tarnished the confidence and courage he called upon to make him a soldier. He consoled himself with the happy knowledge that she was dead.

  Drake followed the path that led through trees into Coyote, feeling a sense of déjà vu. It hadn’t been that long since he’d followed this route for the very first time. A brisk, cold wind bit at his face and hands, but the air was fresher than anything he could remember, invigorating him.

  There was only one place on his mind for a first stop.

  Verity’s Diner. The food was great, the owner sociable and knowledgeable. Fifteen minutes later he was seated inside, ready to place his food order and with a steaming cup of black coffee in front of him.

  “Haven’t seen you in a bit,” Verity said, walking up with a pen and pad in her hand.

  Drake was surprised at her powers of observation. It had been over a week and he’d only visited twice. “Well remembered, love,” he said. “You must get a load of customers through here.”

  “Never forget an accent.” She smiled. “Especially one like yours.”

  “You like it?”

  “Oh, formed by the hand of God, I’m sure.”

  Drake grinned. “You know it. I’ll remember to tell a certain Swedish friend of mine when I see him again.” He placed his order and looked around. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

  He hardly expected her to regale him with the tale of two serial killers found dead up in the woods, their victim saved by a mysterious stranger, and she didn’t. But she did give him an odd look.

  “Why? You decided to stay around here?”

  “I might.” Drake shrugged.

  “Uprooting from your beloved homeland?”

  Drake thought about that with wistful reflection. “I’ve spent more time away than I should have,” he said. “Who knows where I’ll end up?”

  It was a melancholy comment. Verity smiled and excused herself, leaving Drake with much to think about. Not just regarding Coyote, but there was Marinette and the feelings she’d left behind, and the current—hopefully short-lived—separation of the team. Dahl, Kenzie, Alicia, Cam and Shaw had chosen to stick together, and Drake worried that more people meant a larger target, more chance of them being tracked down, but it also meant safety in numbers, being able to rely on good people. No doubt existed in Drake’s mind that their enemies were trawling the world for them.

  And how safe were Hayden and Kinimaka, on their way back to LA? How safe was Mai, now she was working for Bryant?

  Distraction came in the form of pancakes, maple syrup, bacon, sausage-links and proper, shredded hash browns, which Drake dug into with gusto. Bus station fare kept you going, but it was nothing compared to an authentic American diner breakfast eaten at three in the afternoon.

  Later, he paid Verity and exited the diner, back out into the world and facing the real reason he’d returned to Coyote. After deciding to meet the team in Clearwater, he wanted to get this done quickly. On the surface, Coyote appeared a carefree, relaxed and cheerful town, but Drake sensed an undercurrent, something as deep and vast as the mountains that surrounded it, and highly disturbing. When Karin had investigated the disappearances of women last time, she had found a surprising lack of belief and effort on the part of the local police.

  And at least one of the two killers had been a major player in Coyote, a wealthy individual.

  Drake had been worried about the woman he’d saved ever since depositing her at the hospital. She’d shot her captor in the face after Drake had killed his accomplice: The Jackal and his brother would prey no more. But she had broken bones, lacerations and excess bruising, not to mention the mental anguish she’d suffered. Drake guessed now that she might be able to shed a little light on Coyote and its secrets.

  During their drive to the hospital, Drake had learned a few things. Her name was Isla Kelly. Her profession: a nurse. Her address was situated in a picturesque suburb of Coyote. He also knew that she’d come to the attention of the Jackal when she had a tire changed at his garage and left her personal details, and that he’d bragged about the long string of both men and women he’d killed. Drake had many questions for Isla, not the least of which was what the authorities had done to find the other bodies.

  He bypassed the trails where, more than week ago, he’d vanished into a beautiful wilderness, as a ceramic blue sky dulled to old lead before the onset of dusk. Isla’s home—according to Google Maps—was a forty-five-minute walk away, so Drake set off at a brisk pace, determined to beat Google, knowing he’d do the same if following a car’s satnav. As he walked, he tried to put aside his concerns for the others—and Alicia’s full-blooded and heartfelt comments against keeping them apart—and tried to think about what he might say to Isla.

  As it happened, she saw him coming.

  Drake approached her home along a straight piece of road. Isla must have been seated in the living room, looking out, for she opened the door before he reached her garden. When he stopped respectfully at the gate she smiled and waved him forward.

  “Come in.”

  Drake felt a little odd, and wary, entering her home and taking a seat at the back of her spacious living room. She’d arranged the room so that the main couch and TV were near the window and the large alcove at the rear was more of a secluded, shadowed den. Drake sat down and accepted a bottle of ice-cold water.

  “Cheers,” he said, waiting for her to sit opposite him.

  When she did, he saw the fading bruises, the crusted-over cuts and a new, shorter haircut. She nodded and tried to smile.

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” she admitted. “Wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

  Drake made a face. “You nearly didn’t, love,” he said. “But that’s a whole different story. “I came to check how you’ve been coping since... well, since you were forced to shoot that madman.”

  He deliberately cut to the chase to gage her reaction. Isla flinched, running a hand through her dark hair before replying. When she spoke, her eyes held a haunted look, as though she’d seen a ghost lurking in the corner.

  “Told the cops what I could. They knew someone helped me out of the cabin and fought with his brother, but I told them I never got a look at you. They probably don’t believe me, but I don’t care. You saved my life. I’d never tell them anything that might incriminate you.”

  Drake nodded his thanks. “The cops made any headway with the case?”

  “You mean finding all those other victims? I don’t know. The man you call the Jackal told me he’d killed a dozen other men and women in horrible ways. He described them to m
e before leaving me tied up for the day. I... I...” She shuddered and looked away, unable to continue.

  “And he never mentioned a brother?”

  “When he turned up that night, behind you, it was the first I’d seen of him. But I did sense other presences at night. Behind my blindfold, you know?”

  “Footsteps. Noises. Smells.” Drake nodded. “Yeah, that’s common. With no eyesight, your other senses sharpen.”

  “But I never saw the brother before,” Isla said. “I only saw the other three men.”

  Drake paused with his water bottle halfway to his lips. Isla’s words had sent a shudder down his spine. “What?”

  “Three other men visited the cabin. The state I was in when you found me—I couldn’t articulate, couldn’t recall everything at once. I was lucky to be conscious.”

  “I remember.”

  “It was only later that I remembered the entirety of events. I told the cops. They’ve not been back in touch.”

  “You gave descriptions of these three men?”

  “Sure. I’ve tried to call the detective in charge... I’ve been anxious for my own safety, you know. But he told me they’d hit a dead end. No clues.”

  “Do you have anyone?” Drake asked. “To stay with. To come over. Any kind of protection?”

  Isla looked down. “My family live in Texas. I called them to explain but they never called back. Old issues, I’m afraid. And I’m a bit of a loner. Being a nurse at the hospital ensures I keep odd hours.”

  Maybe she’d been targeted because of her vulnerability, Drake thought. “You’re telling me there are potentially three other killers out there and the police say they’ve hit a dead end?”

  “It makes a kinda sense. The three only showed up once and didn’t hang around. Didn’t touch or sit. Just watched.” Isla shuddered.

  Drake kept going. “Did they say or do anything else that you remember?”

  “Cops asked the same thing. Same answer. Just one... they referred to one man as Axe. You know, like the weapon.”