The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)(55)



Butler wasn’t ready to put away his weapon just yet. He’d heard glass breaking. And someone screaming. The voice was not Eddie’s. He was sure of it. Someone else was there.

Butler quickly surveyed the windows around the room to see which ones had been broken. Strangely, all the panes remained intact. The room was just as he had left it. There was no sign of damage anywhere. So what the hell was going on?

Skylar continued holding Eddie until his breathing finally slowed. His arms went limp. Nurse Gloria would have nodded with approval. Skylar released her grip gently and looked directly into his eyes. “We heard screaming. Detective McHenry and I were worried.”

Eddie’s voice was weak. “I’m tired.”

Skylar spoke gently. “Who was screaming, Eddie?”

“I don’t like it here.”

Her voice remained soothing. “I know you don’t. But we need to know who was screaming.”

“I’m—” Eddie cut himself off. He took several long, deep breaths, and gradually regained his composure. He turned to Butler. “Detective, did you recognize the voices?”

“No.”

Eddie looked puzzled. “Are you sure?”

Talking to Eddie required a patience the detective was fresh out of. He responded tersely. “Why, should I have?”

“Yes, you should have.” Eddie waited, still expecting the detective to realize the obvious. “One of the voices was you.”

The detective froze. He slowly turned to Skylar, who was now focused on the laptop, which was connected to the echo box. The eight one-inch satellite microphones slowly stopped moving. Their work was done. The laptop screen showed a three-dimensional rendering of the kitchen. The progress counter read: 100 percent. The timeline went back thirty years.

Through the laptop came HISSING and all kinds of DISTORTION, but a man could be heard YELLING: “Who the . . . think . . . talking to, boy?”

McHenry’s face dropped. Particularly when he heard the next voice.

LITTLE BOY: I swear . . . I’ll kill you . . . hit her again!

MAN: You threatening . . . ?

LITTLE BOY: . . . goddamn right!

The sound of a fist hitting a face was clear. The thud was sickening. So was the sound of a body falling to the floor. A small body.

McHenry stared at the exact spot on the floor where he had collapsed as a young boy. He hadn’t thought about the many times his stepfather had hit him—particularly this incident—in a very long while. Pain flashed across his face. The hurt he’d felt when it happened was all too clear in his mind. Sense memories often are. “Turn it off.” Eddie did.

The detective sat down at the kitchen table, staring at the eight satellite microphones extended from the echo box. Skylar sat down across from him, appreciating how he must be feeling. She thought of the moments from her childhood that would be most painful for her to hear. She studied the detective. “That was you?”

He nodded, speaking slowly. “Bastard used to hit my mom. I couldn’t stop him.” He paused, unconsciously scratching his head where he still bore the scar. “Thirty-seven stitches.”

Skylar saw his pain clearly. He hurt like he did as a boy, not as a man remembering it. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was soothing. Genuine. Affecting.

Butler now understood how she could reach Eddie the way she did. There was just something about her. She made him feel better. At least a little. “He’s why I became a cop. First thing I planned on doing out of the Academy was putting the son of a bitch away, but he died before I got the chance.”

Eddie glanced at the detective. “Are you angry with me, Detective?”

Butler shook his head. “No, Eddie. But I think I get it now.”

“Get what now?”

“The importance of your box.”

“I’m going to hear my mother sing.” Eddie smiled innocently.

“I hope you do.”

“Detective, would you like to hear more?”

He shook his head. “That’s all right. I’m good.”

“You don’t look good, Detective. I can tell because you are not smiling.”

“I’m okay. But you know what?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re not as bad at reading people’s expressions as you think.” Butler turned to Skylar. He paused to make sure the weight of what he was about to say was clear. He motioned to the echo box. “This thing is going to change the world. You get that, right?”

She looked him squarely in the eyes. “Yes, I get that.”

“I mean like the car. The phone. The plane. It’s going to change everything.” The possibilities were blowing his mind.

She nodded with understanding. “Kind of overwhelming, isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly. But she was relieved that the man she had turned to for help now genuinely appreciated the importance of Eddie and his echo box.

Skylar had an ally, and that was a start.





CHAPTER 45

Williamsburg Bridge, New York City, May 27, 2:47 p.m.

Butler’s cell phone rang as he drove across the bridge toward Manhattan. It was his boss, Lieutenant Victoria Daniels. “What the hell is going on?” She sounded more tense than usual. Butler would soon learn that it was because the highest-ranking officer of the Sixth Precinct, Deputy Inspector Anthony Nataro, was beside her.

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