Paradox

by Jeanne C. Stein

  I pause. Should I go back to the bar?

  A shuffling sound precedes a shadow approaching from the tunnels’ rear. When the light hits his face, I relax taut muscles I didn’t know tensed.

  I recognize the figure. Thin, slump-shouldered, human. A doctor who has been here since my first visits to Beso. He’s helped me twice—once when David was attacked by a vampire and once when Frey and Culebra were caught in a witch’s spell. He kept them alive until I could save them.

  I don’t know his name. I’ve always referred to him as “doctor”, even though technically he’s not. He lost his license in the states because of a drug habit. From his haggard appearance, it’s a drug habit he’s yet to shake.

  He approaches and a smile softens the crags on his face. “Anna Strong? What brings you here?”

  He holds out a hand and I pump the dry fist. “I came to see Culebra. The bar is wide open and empty. Where is everyone?”

  He lifts his shoulders. “Seems everyone is off looking for a girl who disappeared.”

  My shoulders bunch. “Girl?”

  “You know her, if I’m not mistaken,” he says. “Brought her here, am I right?”

  Jesus. I suck in a breath. “How did she disappear?”

  “Just walked away. Culebra left her in the kitchen washing dishes, a chore she loathes, to hear her tell it. Next thing he knew, she was gone.”

  “How long?”

  He purses his lips. “Thirty minutes? Maybe a little longer? Wasn’t too busy tonight so Culebra pressed everyone into service. Can’t figure out why they aren’t back by now. She was walking. Couldn’t have gone far.”

  I thank him and whirl around to the bar. I suspect Janet planned her escape well. Might have even had an accomplice, bribed with a boatload of money or, even worse, the promise to be a host.

  No, that’s not the worst.

  The worst is if she’s found someone who’s agreed to turn her.

  I could get into my car and retrace my route, on the off chance she’s sticking to the road. She might have ducked out of sight when she saw me arrive. If she’s on foot, though, she wouldn’t make it past Culebra’s invisible barrier.

  Unless she’s with another supernatural.

  I made a huge mistake bringing her here, thinking I could change her mind. Chael had the right idea. I should have let him kill her.

  I can’t believe I’m thinking that.

  I can’t believe I want to kill her myself. She’s been nothing but trouble.

  I shake the thoughts away and climb into my car. I’m sure Culebra and his search party are scouring the desert in a fleet of ATV’s.

  I start the Jag.

  Before I engage the gear, I pause.

  A niggling suspicion.

  If Culebra pressed everyone to look for Janet, why is the doctor still here?

  Even if Culebra wanted the doctor to stay in case Janet came back, why isn’t he in the bar?

  I shake my head. It would be just like Janet to make a deal with the doctor—let her hide out until everyone was gone. Then he could sneak her out past the barrier and no one would be the wiser.

  I switch off the ignition. There’s a back way to the caves, one that winds around and comes out on top of the opening. Quietly, I make my way over uneven ground in vampire stealth. In less than a minute, I’m looking down at Janet and the doctor, making their way toward a clump of brush near the entrance.

  While they pull apart the bramble, I send a message to Culebra:

  She’s here. Bring everyone back.

  I get a torrent of invective in return.

  I jump to the ground and approach Janet noiselessly. I grab her by the scruff of the neck, and she lets out a yelp.

  The doctor whirls around. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

  Yes, they’re in trouble.

  Culebra left with the doctor for the caves. I don’t know what punishment Culebra will dole out, but if it includes banishment, that’s a death sentence. This has been the doctor’s only home for years. I feel sorry for him and told Culebra Janet was likely behind the plan, but I don’t know if it will make any difference.

  Janet sits quietly in the back of the bar. The place is filling quickly. Evidently, Culebra closed the magical barrier to Beso after it was discovered Janet disappeared. Only I could get through—I’m sure Culebra wanted me to see what trouble Janet caused. The doctor couldn’t have left either.

  I’m sitting with Janet, who hasn’t said a word. Unusual. Even more unusual, she looks mortified. Whether for herself or because she realizes the position she put the doctor in, I don’t know.

  When Culebra comes back and strides over to join us, she holds up a hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “Please don’t take it out on the doctor. He went along because I convinced him I was kidnapped and brought here.” She shoots me a look. “Not exactly untrue.”

  My hackles rise, but before I can speak, Culebra leans toward her. “You are a stupid, careless, thoughtless young woman. When I heard what you did, my first impulse was to beat you senseless. I know Anna would never allow it. I’m going to ask you one question and how you answer it will determine if you stay or go.”

  Janet looks up at him, eyes round, mouth agape. “You’d let me stay?”

  I’m as shocked as she. You should have asked me if you could beat her, I tell Culebra. I might have surprised you.

  There’s just the tiniest of quirks to the corner of his mouth. Next time.

  Janet stares.

  Culebra straightens and crosses his arms over his chest. “If you are still determined to become vampire, you will be a host for four days straight, starting this night. I will pick the vampires and you will do exactly as you are told. If you ask any of them to turn you before the four days, you will be brought back to LA and your memory wiped. I will personally see that your bank accounts are drained, your home destroyed and your career ruined. If you doubt I can, try me.”

  I don’t know about Janet, but I believe him.

  Evidently, so does she.

  Janet nods.

  “Say you understand and agree.”

  “I understand and agree.”

  “After you are turned, you will stay here for one month. You will learn how to feed safely. During that time, you will work at the bar. No whining. No complaining. If you pass that month, Anna will take you back to your home. She will also see that you come here to feed. If you miss one month, you will be executed.”

  I’m startled by that last statement. But Culebra’s voice in my head says, Go along with it.

  Janet’s eyes are big, but she says, “I agree.”

  He turns to a vampire at the bar and motions him over. “This is Janet. She will be your host. It’s her first time. No sex. Just feed.”

  The guy is a good looking twenty-something. Whether Culebra already spoke to him or whether my presence emphasizes the seriousness of what he is being told, he agrees.

  Janet stands up.

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure this is what you want? If you’re having second thoughts, this is your last chance to speak out.”

  She trembles under my touch but I believe it’s from excitement, not fear. She leans close. “This is what should have happened as soon as I got here.” She says quietly.

  A thought springs unbidden into my head. Was this whole “running away” a ploy to make this happen? She’s only been here one day.

  I watch her follow the vampire into the feeding rooms in back.

  Culebra takes the seat opposite me. “What’s the matter?” he asks.

  “We’ve been played,” I reply. “She set this up thinking you’d react the way you did.”

  Culebra’s eyes go cold. “I suspected as much. Anna, I’m telling you, I won’t be taken in again. If she steps out of line, just once, she’s done.”

  I don’t ask what he means by “done.” I’m afraid I know.

  I stay long enough to see the vampire leave Janet’s bed and
go back to check on her.

  She’s on her side, her hand pressed to her neck.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  She rolls over to face me and I see the answer shining in her eyes. “It was better than I imagined.”

  Culebra steps into the room. He tosses a set of sheets at her. “Change the bed,” he says. “Then go help behind the bar.”

  The old Janet flashes and I think she’s going to argue but the expression on Culebra’s face stops her. She stifles a retort through pressed lips and smiles up at him. “Yes, sir.”

  Culebra and I exchange looks.

  I shrug.

  Should have let me beat her, he says.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Day Eight

  The next day, David again makes it into the office before me. Gloria being gone must make it easier for him to get out of bed in the morning. With Frey gone, it is for me.

  He tells me he heard back from Detective Connolly and has an address for the wife of Howard’s bookie. We don’t waste any time seeking her out.

  Sarah Sullivan isn’t living like the wife of a bookie who was supposed to be as successful as her husband was rumored. The apartment building is not far from his office. It isn’t run down, but the paint is chipping off the stucco. What is supposed to be a security gate hangs open on rusted hinges.

  She answers the bell in a dressing gown, a cigarette dangling from her left hand, a coffee cup clutched in her right. She has bottle blonde hair drawn into a knot at the top of her head and pale blue eyes, accented heavily by black liner and mascara. The blush on her cheeks is the same shade as the red staining her lips giving her the look of an aging Kewpie doll.

  She looks surprised to see us. Her mouth purses. “Oh.”

  Not who she was expecting, obviously.

  David holds out his hand. “I’m Steve Jenkins. This is my partner, Olive Green. We’re here from Security Life.”

  I almost snicker out loud at his choice of name for me, but the way she brightens up makes me swallow the response.

  “Sarah Sullivan,” she says, depositing the coffee cup on a table near the door in order to grasp David’s hand. She pulls him into the room, barely glancing my way.

  A common reaction I’m used to. Women are attracted to David like a compass needle to magnetic north. I follow them in, shoeing the door closed behind us.

  She motions us toward a couch. When we’re seated, Sarah places herself between David and me and asks, “Would you like coffee?”

  Since the question is directed at David, I remain mute. He declines and launches into his shtick.

  “First of all, Mrs. Sullivan,” he says. “I want to say how sorry we are for your loss.”

  He pauses just long enough for Mrs. Sullivan to lower her eyes appreciatively. Then he continues.

  “We represent the interest of Security Life. I have reason to believe your husband took out a life insurance policy prior to his death. I say ‘reason to believe’ because, although we have the preliminary paperwork, we are unable to find a signed copy of the policy itself. You have been named as beneficiary in the preparatory documents.”

  I’ve never understood the expression “ears perked up” before, but I swear that’s exactly what happened.

  “How much will I get?” she asks.

  David holds up a hand. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that until I have the policy. Do you have a copy of the policy by chance?”

  Sarah Sullivan’s face goes blank.

  “Would you know where your husband would have likely placed such a document for safe keeping?”

  No spark of recognition.

  I chime in, asking bluntly, “Do you have a home safe or a safety deposit box in a bank?”

  For the first time, she swivels to look at me. “I don’t know,” she replies slowly. “He didn’t tell me much about his business.”

  The doorbell buzzes. She pushes herself to her feet and, with an officious toss of her head, she says, “Excuse me,” and heads for the door.

  She opens it to a man who steps inside and pulls her roughly to him, planting a kiss on her lips that would have lasted longer were it not for her pushing him away.

  This must have been who she was expecting.

  Awkwardly, she frees herself from his grasp and gestures to David and me.

  “We have company.”

  The guy blinks and steps around her to check us out. He’s got thinning hair and bad skin, and his suit hangs on his bony frame like cloth draped on a skeleton.

  “You are…?” he asks.

  Sarah plants herself in front of him. “This is Steve Jenkins and his partner…I don’t remember her name. They’re from a life insurance company. They say Harold took out a life insurance policy and I’m named as beneficiary.” She’s carefully enunciating each word, bestowing some special meaning to each.

  He seems to get it. So do we.

  He holds out his hand to David. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Donald Smith, a friend of the family. How much will Sarah get?”

  A friend of the family? Right. David plays along. “That’s the problem we seem to have. We know Mr. Sullivan inquired about a policy, know that his wife was named beneficiary, but there’s been some kind of mix-up at the office. We can’t find a finalized document and without that…” He lets his voice trail off despondently.

  Donald turns to Sarah. “This won’t do, will it?”

  I take a turn. “Before you came in, I was asking Sarah if they had a safety deposit box. That would be the most likely place Mr. Sullivan would keep important papers. Don’t you agree?”

  Sarah frowns. “I don’t know. Harold never told me about such things.”

  Donald takes her chin and turns her face up. “Think, baby. Maybe Harold has a safe here at home, or a locked drawer in his desk?”

  Sarah looks disconsolate. I almost feel sorry for her. Donald’s grip is tightening on her chin. I stand and step between them.

  “You seem to know the family well,” I say pleasantly. “Maybe you and I could go outside and brainstorm where we might find Harold’s papers.”

  I’m smiling at him and, like David, I can turn on the charm, too. Donald doesn’t hesitate a moment.

  “Good idea. I have a few ideas we could discuss.”

  I’ll bet he does. I take his arm and lead him outside. It’s up to David now.

  Donald and I stroll around the pool area. He’s walking much too close, making sure his hip brushes mine with each step. Finally he says, “What was your name?”

  “Olive.”

  He snickers. “You’re not built like any Olive I’ve ever seen. You’d keep Popeye on shore, for sure.”

  I laugh enthusiastically. “How long have you known Sarah?” I ask.

  He winks at me. “We’ve been friends for a long time, if you catch my drift. It’s not serious between us. I’m a free agent.”

  He says it like it’s the answer to my prayer. “Did you know her husband well?”

  “Business associates,” he says. “Helped out in his—” Suddenly, he stops himself. As dense as he is, saying something like he was a number runner for a bookie might not be the most prudent way to impress. “Anyway, we were practically partners.”

  “So you’d know where he did his banking, for instance?”

  “Well, no. Harold held that part of the business pretty close to the vest.”

  “He must have paid you someway? Checks? Direct Deposit?”

  “Strictly cash.” That seemed to make him proud. “That way old Uncle Sam couldn’t stick his nose in.” Another wink. “Tell me. How much is Sarah going to get?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry, I can’t divulge that. If we don’t find a policy…” I use David’s tactics and let the sentence dangle.

  He stops and turns toward me. “Come on. You can tell me.” He puts an arm around my waist as if to pull me close.

  I counter with a stiff arm that sends him reeling back.

  He’s tumbles into the pool.
r />   When he comes sputtering up for air, I shrug apologetically. “Sorry. Lost my balance.”

  I don’t think he believes me.

  Donald slumps away to change his clothes, telling me to let Sarah know he’ll be back. I’m unsure whether I should go back to the apartment. If David is getting somewhere with Sarah, I don’t want to intrude.

  At the same time, I have Donald’s message to deliver.

  I start up the stairs and have my finger on the bell when the door opens.

  David winks at me then turns to Sarah. “Thank you so much for your help, Mrs. Sullivan.”

  She’s beaming and I have no doubt he has good news to impart.

  “Oh.” I smile at her. “Donald says he’ll be back later.”

  She looks confused.

  “He had an accident,” I say.

  “An accident?” She’s looking behind me in confusion.

  “Got too close to the pool’s edge. He fell in.”

  I can feel David’s amusement. When he’s composed, he turns to face her once more. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Accident, huh?” David says when we’re on the road.

  “That guy is a creep. I need a shower.” I sober. “But I have a feeling about him. He said he worked for Harold. Do you think he could be part of what got Harold killed?”

  “Not really our problem,” David replies. “I’ll pass his name to Connolly. Let him check the guy out. Right now, we’ve got a post office box to check.”

  “Post office box?” I echo. “Not a safety deposit box?”

  “Nope.” David looks pleased with himself. “When we were going through Harold’s papers, there was a receipt from the post office.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “Here.”

  I take the paper and unfold it, smoothing it against my leg. “He took it out just a month ago,” I say, perusing the receipt. I shoot David a sideways look. “How did you get Sarah to turn it over? Didn’t she want to check it out herself or at least accompany you?”

  He lifts his eyebrows. “She didn’t get a look at it. I managed to distract her long enough to squirrel it away.”