by Gary Jonas
“I’m needed elsewhere,” I said, and ran down the hall. No sign of Ichiro. The elevators were slow, so I went to the stairs.
When I exited the stairwell, I avoided a bunch of cops in the hall, and checked the cafeteria.
No sign of him. No sign of Cho, Jennifer, or Amanda either, but that could just mean they went out for lunch. I couldn’t worry about that right now. I left the building. Ichiro was nowhere in sight. There were a lot of police cars, though. They took Code Grays very seriously around here.
In spite of that, I did see the mysterious Japanese man who’d stabbed me.
He leaned against the building and waved.
That meant Ichiro had gone out a different way.
I strode toward the injured man, and he held empty hands out to the side and bowed to me. “I apologize for stabbing you,” he said. “You were not my target.”
“No shit. Maybe I should hand you back over to the cops. How did you get away?”
He laughed. “I could ask you the same question, but the important thing is, you won’t do that.”
“Because I’d rather kill you myself?”
“You won’t do that either. My name is Nori Oshira.”
“You tried to kill Ichiro.”
“It’s my mission to control or destroy him.”
“He has a family.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“I’m not looking to kill his wife and daughter, Ms. Chan.”
“You know who I am.”
“Oh yes, we know all about you.”
“We?”
He glanced at the sky. “It looks like it’s going to rain. Shall we go to a local bar and discuss this over drinks?”
I grinned. “If I decide you’re a danger to Wakumi or Cho, I’m going to kill you.”
“I held the beast off last night while you got Wakumi out of there. Surely that counts for something.”
“Have I plunged a dagger into your gut yet?”
“No.”
“Then it does count for something.”
“We don’t want to cross you, Ms. Chan.”
“There’s that we again. There’s a coffee shop over on Downing. You’re buying.”
He nodded. “May I ride with you?” he asked.
I grinned. “You don’t want me to know what you’re driving.”
“Merely a precaution.”
“And as you already know my truck, you’ll keep me at what you perceive to be a disadvantage.”
“Perceptions matter.”
“If you say so. Is Nori your real name?”
“According to my passport.”
“And we’re stuck on perceptions.”
“Most people are.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The coffee shop was cozy, but overpriced. I ordered a latte and Nori asked for hot tea. There were two employees behind the counter, a boy and a girl, and the girl seemed relieved to have someone to wait on as it meant the boy had to stop whatever he was saying. As it was early afternoon, there was only one other customer, an older woman in a corner reading a Janet Evanovich paperback. Every now and then she’d grin or chuckle. She was so engrossed in the book that she never once looked at us.
We took a seat as far from the woman as we could so our conversation wouldn’t distract her from Stephanie Plum’s shenanigans.
“Why do you want to kill Ichiro?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you that. Let’s just say I was ordered to come to America and eliminate him,” Nori said. “But only if I couldn’t control him.”
“So you do what you’re told.”
“I swore allegiance to my master, therefore I must do as he says.”
“So you’re following the Bushido code like a samurai warrior.”
“In all things,” he said with a nod.
“You weren’t too frugal to pay for my coffee,” I said with a slight grin. The Bushido code had four components. First was frugality, as a samurai was supposed to live a simple life. Second was loyalty, as a samurai swore his utter obedience to his leader. Third was martial arts mastery, and fourth was honor to the death up to and including compulsive suicide in a ritual called seppuku should the samurai be defeated or dishonored.
“It was not my money.”
“So when you say we you mean you and your master?”
He nodded. “And my compatriots.”
“And who is your master?”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to know. He did want me to tell you that we have no quarrel with you, and that we are not barbarians, so we will allow Wakumi and Cho Himura to live. All we ask is that you not involve yourself any further when it comes to Ichiro. We will deal with him as we deem appropriate.”
“Convince me,” I said. “Because as it stands, I see Ichiro as a man who loves his family and doesn’t want to hurt them. His death would devastate them.”
“You know about his … affliction, so you know it’s only a matter of time before he kills them. He nearly killed his wife last night, and if I hadn’t been there, she would be dead.”
“He escaped from you, though.”
Nori studied me for a moment. “I was not planning to face him last night.”
“I see, so it doesn’t qualify as losing honor?”
“I was merely there to observe, but when you entered the house, I felt I had to limit the damage.”
“I know you were watching me.”
He nodded.
“You’re pretty good.”
He allowed himself a grin. “You may have felt me, but you did not see me.”
“Why step in on my account?”
“Because my master told me to.”
“So you called your master before you took action.”
“Of course.”
“Which tells me that if I hadn’t gone over there, you’d have done nothing, and Wakumi and Cho would be dead right now.”
“I would have done nothing unless the beast left the house. This was the first time he’s done that. Under normal circumstances he would have—”
I cut him off. “I know about the cage and sedatives.”
“Right. For some reason, the wife and daughter didn’t leave like normal.”
“Because you slashed their tires.”
“I did no such thing.”
“The tires were slashed.”
“Ichiro must have slashed the tires himself.”
“You were watching. You should know.”
“Under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, our plane was delayed, so we missed our connecting flight. When we finally got to Denver, traffic was worse than I anticipated, so I did not arrive until a few minutes before you. We only keep tabs on Ichiro for the three days and nights of the full moon. And as long as he stays put, we leave him alone.”
“We?”
“As you might have surmised, I brought a team.”
“For all you knew, Ichiro wasn’t even home,” I said.
He folded his arms and kept his gentle smile in place. “We can always find him.”
“You have a tracking device on him,” I said.
“Of course.”
“So now you’re actively trying to kill him.”
“He knows he’s not allowed to leave the house during the change.”
“It’s daytime.”
“And he has nowhere to go. If I don’t kill him, he’ll slaughter innocent people.”
“Why not capture him instead?” I asked.
“And put him where?”
“If you sedate him, you can keep him anywhere.”
“It’s not that simple, Ms. Chan.”
“Did he kill anyone last night?”
“I didn’t let him.”
“So why didn’t you kill him last night?”
“I didn’t have a silver bullet.”
“You’re tasked to kill a werewolf, but you didn’t have a silver bullet?”
“My team went to pick up our weapons while I
went to Ichiro’s house.”
“You had a sword.”
“That belonged to Ichiro. It was in the basement.”
“You could have cut off his head.”
“You never let up.”
“What about you?” I asked, trying a different tactic. “He bit you last night. Are you concerned about that?”
“Not especially.”
“But isn’t that how the curse is transferred?”
“That’s one way.”
“So you think you’re immune to it?” His slight reaction told me I was wrong. “Or you think it won’t affect you until next month, and following the code, you’ll kneel and drive a dagger into your gut, slicing to the right and up to cut into your kidney so you die before you transform.”
“The disease requires a month to take effect when transmitted through a bite,” Nori said.
I sipped my coffee. Nori hadn’t touched his tea. “I won’t let you kill him,” I said. “But I’m willing to help you sedate him or keep tabs on him while we let him roam the woods in the mountains tonight.”
He shook his head. “Far easier to simply kill him and be done with it.”
“Because he bit you?”
“He could bite others. If you try to sedate him while he’s transformed, he may bite you.”
“I was thinking we’d sedate him while he’s human.”
“Which would last for six hours in his human state, and less in the wolf state. In his cage, he had a unit to dispense more midazolam every three hours. It was broken in the skirmish last night.”
“So we get more of the drug and we get a unit from the hospital to dispense it.”
Nori laughed. “Good luck with that one. He will not see the moonrise.”
“In that case, perhaps I should just kill you,” I said.
Nori glanced out the window. I followed his gaze where a black Mitsubishi Eclipse pulled up to the curb. The passenger window rolled down a bit and a shadowy man gave Nori a thumbs up signal. I stared at them and saw Ichiro in the back seat.
“They have Ichiro,” I said.
“Yes, we do. As long as he has that tracker, we can always find him. But I give you my word that I will make a phone call, and if we’re allowed to contain him, we will, but if he’s any trouble, we will have to kill him,” Nori said.
“And you think I’m just going to let you walk out of here?”
“Should you choose to murder me in a public coffee house, this is your opportunity.”
“Maybe I should.”
“You’re like a Ronin,” he said. “I respect that, but Ichiro isn’t your mission. You’re supposed to keep Wakumi and Cho safe. Don’t worry about Ichiro. Tell Cho, her Uncle Nori says hello.”
“Uncle?”
He smiled. “There are so many things you don’t know.”
“Then tell me about them.”
“Let’s just say this is family business. Stay out of it. Watch over Wakumi.”
“Is she in danger?”
“As long as Ichiro is alive, she will always be in danger.”
He rose, gave me a slight bow of respect and walked out of the shop. He didn’t glance back at me as he climbed into the car.
I could have stopped him, but instead I sat there shaking my head. My only reason for keeping Ichiro alive was so Cho would have a father. But if he was a danger to her, she might be better off without him. I had too many things to consider. I’d stepped into the middle of a domestic, and that’s a terrible place to be. Their car pulled away from the curb.
I let them go, but I memorized the license plate.
CHAPTER NINE
Before he was murdered, my friend Jonathan was a private investigator. He had a few friends on the police force, but I knew only one of them. An Irish guy named Patrick O’Malley who always hit on me at parties. At one of those parties, O’Malley got hold of my phone and entered his home number. He told me to call him, but I never did.
Until now.
He agreed to run the plate as long as I’d have dinner with him.
“It will have to be next week,” I said. “I’m booked through Sunday.”
“Next week is fine. I’ve got mostly evening shifts, but I’m off on Friday,” he said. “I know a wonderful sushi bar in Westminster.”
I put him on speaker so I could check my calendar. “I’ll make Friday work,” I said. “Can you give me the info?”
“It’s a rental.”
“Please tell me you have more than that.”
“You gotta give me a fair shot on Friday,” O’Malley said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s gotta be a real date. I don’t want to just buy you dinner and you say goodbye. I want you to erase your preconceived notions about me and think of it as a first date with the potential for another should we both have fun.”
“Give me the info, O’Malley.”
“Patrick.”
“Fine. Give me the info, Patrick.”
He laughed. “No. The name of the guy who rented the car is George Patrick.”
That didn’t sound Japanese. “Are you sure?”
“Guy lives in Portland, Oregon, and used a company credit card. He works for a company called Takeda Imports out of Osaka, Japan. And so you know I’m worth the time to get to know, I can tell you that the credit card was used to rent a suite at the Sheraton downtown. And I can tell you that George Patrick is currently in his room with several guests. They ordered rare steaks from room service then asked not to be disturbed.”
“You were able to get all that in twenty minutes?” I asked.
“I called in a few favors.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Kelly. Anytime, anywhere.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Too late.”
Who the hell was George Patrick? One of Nori’s team, perhaps? I was under the impression that Nori had flown in from Japan. Had he led me astray? Cho and Wakumi were safe for now, so I decided to track Nori down and shake the truth out of his sorry ass.
***
The Sheraton stood on the 16th Street Mall. It’s always a bitch to park downtown, but the mall has a free bus that runs up and down, so when I had to park a long way from the hotel, it wasn’t that big a deal. I found myself next to the Lodo Tattered Cover, and decided Nori and his team could wait a few. I wanted to see if I could snag a few books about werewolves.
My first stop was the information desk because I didn’t want to waste a lot of time, and it’s too easy to get lost at a bookstore. So many books calling my name. So I stepped up to the desk. “Got any werewolf books?” I asked.
An employee named Myles with long, dark hair and thick glasses, nodded and took me directly to the horror section. He shoved his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and smiled as he handed me a copy of Cycle of the Werewolf by Stephen King.
“I’ve read this,” I said. “I was actually looking for a book about the history of werewolves. Legends. Where the myths originated. That sort of thing.”
“Cool. Probably in the New Age section with the books about UFOs and Astrology.”
Myles didn’t sound judgmental, which was good. He led me to the section and pointed out a few books that might be close, but they were encyclopedias about various supernatural and occult happenings rather than anything specific to lycanthropy.
“These aren’t going to work for me,” I said.
“I can see about special ordering a book for you if you have a title or author in mind.”
“I don’t.”
“I can do an online search for you. See if anything jumps out.”
“That’s all right. Thanks anyway.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“I need the information today, not next week.”
“Werewolves,” he said.
I spread my hands. “Full moon tonight.”
Myles blinked and readjusted his glasses. “You mean real werewolves.”
“Cool.” He took a deep breath and leaned close. “Then you don’t want a book. You want to talk to Doctor Clave.”
“Who’s that?”
“He and his wife are experts in cryptozoology. They live in a loft apartment a few blocks from here. They’re always having us special order titles for them. They like to support independent bookstores.”
“I like them already. What is cryptozoology?”
“Study of unknown animals. Bigfoot, dogmen, that sort of thing.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Ignore the Bigfoot reference,” he said. “First thing that popped into my head. They’re more about Native American skin walkers and such. They love to talk. I can call them for you.”
I checked the time on my phone. It was 3:45. I wanted to get to the hotel, but a gut feeling told me to hold off. Sunset was going to be at 6:06, though the moon would rise at 5:54. I wasn’t sure how the werewolf thing worked, and I wasn’t even sure Ichiro was still alive. I could rush in, of course, but even if I rescued him, I’d be stuck with a guy about to turn into a werewolf. It seemed like a good idea to get as much information beforehand as I could.
Amanda had made some calls, but came up empty. I’d read a bit online, but Wikipedia is far from accurate, especially on subjects people consider to be too out there. Lycanthropy wasn’t worthy of serious study, so it was tossed off as a mental problem where the victim believed they turned into a wolf instead of literally changing.
“All right,” I said. “Make the call.”
“Cool,” Myles said. “Feel free to browse. I’ll be right back.”
I wandered up and down the aisles, and picked up a Tess Gerritsen book called Playing with Fire. I read the first few pages, and wanted to keep reading, but Myles returned.
“Doctor Clave said he could meet you in thirty minutes at Illegal Pete’s.”
I nodded and handed the Gerritsen book to him. “Sounds good. Ring me up?”
“Cool,” Myles said.
“That must be your favorite word.”
He grinned. “Yeah. I get stuck on a word sometimes. Lately everything’s been cool, but last week it was all wild. Then again, since you’re talking about werewolves, maybe this week should be wild.”
