Anita Blake 4 - Lunatic Cafe

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  "This nigger . . ."

  "We don't hold with talk like that, Deputy, you know that."

  From the look on Aikensen's face you'd have thought the sheriff had told him there was no Santa Claus. I was betting the sheriff was a good ol' boy in the worst sense of the word. But there was intelligence in those beady little eyes, more than you could say for Aikensen.

  "Put it away, boy, that's an order." His southern accent was getting thicker, either for show, or because he was getting teed off at Aikensen. A lot of people's accents got stronger under stress. It wasn't a Missouri accent. Something further south.

  Aikensen finally, reluctantly, put up the gun. He didn't snap the holster closed, though. He was cruising for a bruising. I was just glad I hadn't been the one to give it to him. Of course if I'd pulled the trigger before Aikensen had raised his gun skyward, I'd never have known he wasn't pulling his trigger, too. If we'd all been cops with Aikensen as a criminal, it would have gone down as a clean shoot. Jesus.

  Sheriff Titus put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and looked at me. "Now, miss, you can put your gun away, too. Aikensen here isn't going to shoot nobody."

  I just stared at him, gun pointed skyward, held loose. I had been ready to put the gun away until he told me to do it. I'm not big on being told anything. I just stared at him.

  His face still looked friendly, but his eyes lost their shine. Angry. He didn't like being defied. Great. Made my night.

  Three other deputies gathered at Titus's back. They all looked sullen and ready to do anything their sheriff asked them to do. Aikensen stepped over to them, hand hovering near his freshly bolstered gun. Some people never learn.

  "Anita, put the gun away." Dolph's usual pleasant tenor was harsh with anger. Like what he wanted to say was shoot the son of a bitch, but it would be hard to explain to his superiors.

  Though not officially my boss, I listened to Dolph. He'd earned it.

  I put the gun away.

  Dolph was made up of blunt angles. His black hair was cut very short, leaving his ears naked to the cold. His hands were plunged into the pockets of a long black trench coat. The coat looked too thin for the weather, but maybe it was lined. Though he was a little too bulky to leave room for him and a lining in the same coat.

  He beckoned Perry and me to one side, and said softly, "Tell me what happened."

  We did.

  "You really think he was going to shoot you?"

  Perry stared down at the trampled snow for a moment, then looked up. "I'm not sure, Sergeant."

  "Anita?"

  "I thought he was, Dolph."

  "You don't sound sure now."

  "The only thing I'm sure of is that I was going to shoot him. I was squeezing down on him, Dolph. What the hell is going on? If I end up killing a cop tonight, I'd like to know why."

  "I didn't think anybody was stupid enough to pull a weapon," Dolph said. His shoulders hunched, the cloth of his coat straining to hold the movement.

  "Well, don't look now," I said, "but Deputy Aikensen has still got his hand right over his weapon. He's just aching to draw it again."

  Dolph drew a large breath in through his nose and let it out in a white whoosh of breath from his mouth. "Let's go talk to Sheriff Titus."

  "We've been talking to the sheriff for over an hour," Perry said. "He isn't listening."

  "I know, Detective, I know." Dolph kept walking towards the waiting sheriff and his deputies. Perry and I followed. What else could we do? Besides, I wanted to know why an entire crime-scene unit was standing around twiddling their thumbs.

  Perry and I took a post to either side of Dolph, like sentries. Without thinking about it we were both a step back from him. He was, after all, our leader. But the automatic staging irked me. Made me want to step forward, be an equal, but I was a civvie. I wasn't equal. No matter how much I hung around or did, I wasn't a cop. It made a difference.

  Aikensen's hand was gripping the butt of his gun tight. Would he actually draw down on all of us? Surely, even he wasn't that stupid. He was glaring at me, nothing but anger showed in his eyes. Maybe he was that stupid.

  "Titus, tell your man there to get his hand away from his gun," Dolph said.

  Titus glanced at Aikensen. He sighed. "Aikensen, get your damned hand away from your damn gun."

  "She's a civilian. She drew on a policeman."

  "You're lucky she didn't shoot your ass," Titus said. "Now, fasten the holster and tone it down a notch, or I'm going to make you go home."

  Aikensen's face looked even more sullen. But he fastened his holster and plunged his hands into the pockets of his coat. Unless he had a derringer in his pocket, we were safe. Of course, he was just the sort of yahoo that would carry a backup weapon. Truthfully, sometimes so did I, but only when the alligator factor was high. Neck deep instead of ass deep.

  Footsteps crunched through the snow behind us. I turned halfway so I could keep an eye on Aikensen and see the new arrivals.

  Three people in navy blue uniforms came to stand on the other side of us. The tall man in front had a badge on his hat that said police chief. One of his deputies was tall, so thin he looked gaunt, and too young to shave. The second deputy was a woman. Surprise, surprise. I'm usually the only female at a crime scene. She was small, only a little taller than I, thin, with close-cropped hair hidden under her Smokey Bear hat. The only thing I could tell in the flashing lights was that everything on her was pale, from her eyes to her hair. She was pretty in a pixielike way, cute. She stood with her feet apart, hands on her Sam Brown belt. She was carrying a gun that was a little too big for her hands. I was betting she wouldn't like being called cute.

  She was either going to be another pain in the ass, like Aikensen, or a kindred spirit.

  The police chief was at least twenty years older than either deputy. He was tall, not as tall as Dolph, but then who was? He had a salt-and-pepper mustache, pale eyes, and was ruggedly handsome. One of those men who might not have been very attractive as a young man, but age had given his face character, depth. Like Sean Connery who was better looking at sixty than he had been at twenty.

  "Titus, why don't you let these good people get on with their work? We're all cold and tired and want to go home."

  Titus's small eyes flared to life. A lot of anger there. "This is county business, Garroway, not city business. You and your people are out of your jurisdiction."

  "Holmes and Lind were on their way into work when the call came over the radio that somebody had found a body. Your man Aikensen here said he was tied up and couldn't get to the body for at least an hour. Holmes offered to sit with the body and make sure the crime scene stayed pure. My deputies didn't touch anything or do anything. They were just baby-sitting the crime scene for your people. What is wrong with that?" Garroway said.

  "Garroway, the murder was found on our turf. It was our body to take care of. We didn't need any help. And you had no right to call in the Spook Squad without clearing it with me first," Titus said.

  Police Chief Garroway spread his hands in a push-away gesture. "Holmes saw the body. She made the call. She thought the man hadn't been killed by anything human. Protocol is we call in the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team anytime we suspect supernatural activity."

  "Well, Aikensen and Troy here don't think it was anything supernatural. A hunter gets eaten up by a bear and your little lady there jumps the gun."

  Holmes opened her mouth but the chief held up a hand. "It's all right, Holmes." She settled back down, but she didn't like it.

  "Why don't we ask Sergeant Storr here what he thinks killed the man?" Garroway said.

  I was close enough to hear Dolph sigh.

  "She had no right to let people near the body without us there to supervise," Titus said.

  Dolph said, "Gentlemen, we have a dead body in the woods. The crime scene is not getting any younger. Valuable evidence is being lost, while we stand here and argue."

  "A bear attack is not a crime scene, Ser
geant," Titus said.

  "Ms. Blake is our preternatural expert. If she says it was a bear attack, we'll all go home. If she says it was preternatural, you let us do our job, and treat it as a crime scene. Agreed?"

  "Ms. Blake, Ms. Anita Blake?"

  Dolph nodded.

  Titus squinted at me, as if trying to bring me into focus. "You're the Executioner?"

  "Some people call me that, yeah."

  "This little bit of a girl has over a dozen vampire kills under her belt?" There was laughter in his voice, disbelief.

  I shrugged. It was actually higher than that now, but a lot of them were unsanctioned kills. Not something I wanted the police to know about. Vampires have rights, and killing them without a warrant is murder. "I'm the legal vampire executioner for the area. You got a problem with that?"

  "Anita," Dolph said.

  I glanced at him, then back at the sheriff. I wasn't going to say anything more, honest, but he did.

  "I just don't believe a little thing like yourself coulda done all the things I've heard."

  "Look, it's cold, it's late, let me see the body and we can all go home."

  "I don't need a civilian woman to tell me my job."

  "That's it," I said.

  "Anita?" Dolph said. That one word told me not to say it, not to do it, whatever it was.

  "We have licked enough jurisdictional butt for one night, Dolph."

  A man appeared, offering us steaming mugs on a tray. The smell of coffee mingled with the scent of snow. The man was tall. There was a lot of that going around tonight. A lock of white-blond hair obscured one eye. He wore round metal-framed glasses that made his face look even younger than it was. A dark toboggan hat was pulled low over his ears. Thick gloves, a multicolored parka, jeans, and hiking boots completed his outfit. He didn't look fashionable but he was dressed for the weather. My feet had gone numb in the snow.

  I took a mug of coffee gratefully. If we were going to stand out here and argue, hot anything sounded like a great idea. "Thanks."

  The man smiled. "You're welcome." Everybody was taking a mug but not everybody was saying thank you. Where were their manners?

  "I've been sheriff of this county since before you were born, Ms. Blake. It's my county. I don't need any help from the likes of you." He sipped his coffee. He had said thank you.

  "The likes of me? What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Let it go, Anita."

  I looked up at Dolph. I didn't want to let it go. I sipped at the coffee. The smell alone made me feel less angry, more relaxed. I stared into Titus's little piggy eyes and smiled.

  "What's so funny?" he asked.

  I opened my mouth to say, you, but the coffee man interrupted. "I'm Samuel Williams. I'm the caretaker here. I live in the little house behind the nature center. I found the body." He held his now-empty tray down at his side.

  "I'm Sergeant Storr, Mr. Williams. These are my associates, Detective Perry, and Ms. Blake."

  Williams dunked his head in acknowledgment.

  "You know all of us, Samuel," Titus said.

  "Yes, I do," Williams said. He didn't seem too excited about knowing them all.

  He nodded at Chief Garroway and his deputies. "I told Deputy Holmes that I didn't think it was a natural animal. I still don't, but if it is a bear, it slaughtered that man. Any animal that'll do that once will do it again." He looked down at the snow, then up, like a man rising from deep water. "It ate parts of that man. It stalked him and treated him like a prey animal. If it really is a bear, it needs to be caught before it kills somebody else."

  "Samuel here has a degree in biology," Titus said.

  "So do I," I said. Of course, my degree was in preternatural biology, but hey, biology is biology, right?

  "I'm working on my doctorate," Williams said.

  "Yeah, studying owl shit," Aikensen said.

  It was hard to tell, but I think Williams blushed. "I'm studying the feeding habits of the barred owl."

  I had a degree in biology. I knew what that meant. He was collecting owl shit and regurgitated pellets to dissect. So Aikensen was right. Sort of.

  "Will your doctorate be in ornithology or strigiology?" I asked. I was proud of myself for remembering the Latin name for owls.

  Williams looked at me with a sense of kinship in his eyes. "Ornithology."

  Titus looked like he'd swallowed a worm. "I don't need no college degree to know a bear attack when I see it."

  "The last reported bear sighting in St. Gerard County was in 1941," Williams said. "I don't think there's ever been a bear attack reported." The implication just sat there. How did Titus know a bear attack from beans if he'd never seen one?

  Titus threw his coffee out on the snow. "Listen here, college boy—"

  "Maybe it is a bear," Dolph said.

  We all looked at him. Titus nodded. "That's what I've been saying."

  "Then you better order up a helicopter and get some dogs out here."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "An animal that'd slice up a man and eat him might break into houses. No telling how many people the bear might kill." Dolph's face was unreadable, just as serious as if he believed what he was saying.

  "Now, I don't want to get dogs down here. Start a panic if people thought there was a mad bear loose. Remember how crazy everyone got when that pet cougar got loose about five years ago. People were shooting at shadows."

  Dolph just looked at him. We all looked at him. If it was a bear, he needed to treat it like a bear. If it wasn't . . .

  Titus shifted uncomfortably in his heavy boots in the snow. "Maybe Ms. Blake ought to have a look." He rubbed the cold tip of his nose. "Wouldn't want to start a panic for the wrong reasons."

  He didn't want people to think there was a rampaging bear on the loose. But he didn't mind people thinking there was a monster on the loose. Or maybe Sheriff Titus didn't believe in monsters. Maybe.

  Whatever, we were on our way to the murder scene. Possible murder scene. I made everyone wait while I put on my Nikes and the coveralls that I kept for crime scenes and vampire stakings. Hated getting blood on my clothes. Besides, tonight the coveralls were warmer than hose.

  Titus made Aikensen stay with the cars. Hoped he didn't shoot anybody while we were gone.

  Chapter 8

  I didn't see the body at first. All I saw was the snow. It had pooled into a deep drift in one of those hollows that you find in the woods. In spring the holes fill with rain and mud. In fall they pile deep with leaves. In winter they hold the deepest snow. The moonlight carved each footprint, every scuff mark into high relief. Every print filled like a cup with blue shadows.

  I stood at the edge of the clearing staring down at the mishmash of tracks. Somewhere in all this were the murderer's tracks, or a bear's tracks, but unless it was an animal I didn't know how anyone was going to figure out which tracks were significant. Maybe all crime scenes were tracked up this much, the snow just made it obvious. Or maybe this scene had been screwed over. Yeah.

  Every track, cop or not, led to one thing—the body. Dolph had said the man had been sliced up, eaten. I didn't want to see it. I'd been having a very good time with Richard. A pleasant evening. It wasn't fair to end the night by looking at partially eaten bodies. Of course, the dead man probably thought being eaten hadn't been much fun either.

  I took a deep breath of the cold air. My breath fogged as I exhaled. I couldn't smell the body. If it'd been summer, the dead man would have been ripe. Hurrah for the cold.

  "You planning to look at the body from here?" Titus said.

  "No," I said.

  "Looks like your expert is losing her nerve, Sergeant."

  I turned to Titus. His round, double-chinned face was smug, pleased with itself.

  I didn't want to see the body, but losing my nerve, never. "You better hope this isn't a murder scene . . . Sheriff, because it has been fucked twenty ways to Sunday."

  "You're not helping anything, Anita," Dolph said soft
ly.

  He was right, but I wasn't sure I cared. "You got any suggestions for preserving the crime scene, or can I just march straight in like the fifty billion people before me?"

  "There were only four sets of footprints when I was ordered to leave the scene," Officer Holmes said.

  Titus frowned at her. "When I determined it was an animal attack, there was no reason to keep it secure." His southern accent was getting thicker again.

  "Yeah, right," I said. I glanced at Dolph. "Any suggestions?"

  "Just walk in, I don't think there's much to preserve now."

  "You criticizing my men?" Titus said.

  "No," Dolph said, "I'm criticizing you."

  I turned away so Titus wouldn't see me smile. Dolph doesn't suffer fools gladly. He'll put up with them a little longer than I will, but once you've reached his limit, run for cover. No bureaucratic ass will be spared.

  I stepped into the hollow. Dolph didn't need my help to hand Titus his head on a platter. The snow collapsed at the edge of the hole. My feet slid on the leaves underfoot. I ended on my butt for the second time tonight. But I was on a slope now. I slid almost all the way to the body. Laughter bubbled up behind me.

  I sat on my ass in the snow and stared at the body. They could laugh all they wanted; it was funny. The dead man wasn't.

  He lay on his back in the snow. The moonlight shone down on the body, reflecting on the snow, and giving the luster of midday to objects below. I had a penlight in one of the coverall's pockets, but I didn't need it. Or maybe didn't want it. I could see enough, for now.

  Ragged furrows ran down the right side of his face. One claw had sliced over the eye, spilling blood and thick globs of eyeball down his cheek. The lower jaw was crushed, as if some great hand had grabbed it and squeezed. It made the face look unfinished, only half there. It must have hurt like hell, but it hadn't killed him. More's the pity.