“Curious? That a fancy way to say fucked up?”
“Maybe. Nick, didya know there’s been a bunch of women and girls disappeared near you?”
Lupo pulled into a hardware store lot and turned off the engine. “What do you mean, near me?”
“That’s the thing. Saw a missing-persons report come over the wire. Then I remembered there was one about a month ago. I asked around, and it looks like there’ve been a bunch more over the last couple of years. Some may be runaways. Others are just plain old disappearances. Fact is, they’re all over a large area—Minocqua, St. Germain, Rhinelander, Woodruff, Manitowish. And on. I started to stick some pins in a map—”
“Pins? In a map?”
DiSanto huffed. “Virtual pins in a virtual map. You know, Google Maps or whatever. Listen to me, Nick. These disappearances have nothing to do with Eagle River.”
“So?”
“So that’s the point, they’re all around Eagle River, but never in, so it sticks out like a sore thumb when you put all these separate reports together.”
“Like somebody not shitting in his own backyard?”
“Exactly what I was gonna say.”
“Sure, if there’s a cliché for it, you’ll use it.”
“L-O-L, buddy. R-O-F-L-M-A-O.”
Lupo chuckled, but his thoughts were whirring.
DiSanto came back on. “Shit, wait. Louise, it’s important! Nick’s got trouble. Yeah, I know what day it is, but he’s my partner…Look, Nick, I better go. I’ve gotta talk to you tomorrow ‘bout some crazy shit going on at the county jail—the dude we collared is…ah, tell you later. Wish I could have helped more with the Altima.”
“No sweat. Thanks, Rich. Give your wife a kiss for me.”
There was slightly bitter laughter, cut off by the connection breaking up.
Disappearances. Now, what the hell was that all about—and how did it connect to the council killings?
And their frat-boy bike collar was acting up?
He tapped the wheel in a rhythm from memory.
Tef
He watched her coming out of the courthouse with her camera crew—one of them a new guy to replace the hippie. She wouldn’t fuck this guy; he was ugly and fat. She stopped and consulted with the two drones, then pointed at the news van. They nodded and hauled off on a mission.
Heather was left alone in front of the art deco main entrance, checking her phone.
He admired her sleek lines. Wanted to layer himself on her, fill her holes, spill his seed in her. Eat her. Devour her.
The old guys didn’t understand him. He was all about sensation. They were living in the past, following some kind of pseudo-military code. He’d done his share of the shit work in the military. And then again in the Wolfpaw brigade. He wanted more. He wanted this woman right now, as he’d had her earlier.
He was far enough away in the shade of a couple of drab houses that she hadn’t noticed him. She barked into her phone, clearly perturbed by something. Her nostrils flared when she was angry or sexually aroused. He felt the growth inside his trousers.
She set off in the opposite direction, and before he knew it, he was tailing her as she headed straight for Railroad Street, which marked the beginning of the tourist drag.
What’s her mission today? He had to wonder what a star TV reporter would be doing here in town other than working on the murder story. What angle was she working?
He chuckled.
He knew what angle he wanted to work.
Lupo
He was planning to see Arnow again, to check on those disappearances DiSanto had mentioned. Maybe nobody up here had noticed the pattern. Maybe they had a lot of runaways from these towns, places that seemed awfully deadend to kids sick of working tourist traps for tourist bucks, but wanted to be tourists themselves.
He thought about that Altima driver.
But then he spotted the beautiful Wausau reporter coming out the door. Heather Wilson grabbed your attention for sure.
And, not far away, the blond guy again.
If Lupo hadn’t nosed his car around the fancy new restaurant on River he might never have spotted the guy, but there he was, on foot, clearly hanging back to tail Wilson.
It was a weird situation. The blond guy was apparently fucking her. Yet here he was, following her like a pervert.
Fuck this, Lupo thought, flooring the accelerator. The Maxima, old but with a well-maintained engine, roared as he twisted the wheel and steered straight for the guy. If he’d jumped the curb, the Maxima would have pinned the blond under its grille.
The guy turned and stared at him through the windshield. Lupo squealed to a halt barely a foot from the guy. Blondie stood his ground calmly. Unconcerned.
“Hold it right there,” Lupo called, flashing his badge.
“Not going anywhere,” the guy said, amused. “You’re not a local cop, are you? Their badges look different.”
Lupo closed the distance fast, imposing his muscular body on the guy’s wiry physique, invading his space.
“What are you doing, tailing that woman?”
Blondie smiled infuriatingly. “That woman is Heather Wilson, the news anchor. I’m a fan. I want her autograph. Is there some law against that?”
Lupo hated to be physical, but he crowded the smaller man further, the distance between them short enough to grab him. “You’re acting like a stalker.”
“I’m shy.”
“You’re behaving suspiciously.”
“There’s no law—”
Lupo felt the Creature gurgling up into his throat. His hands reached out before he could stop himself and grabbed Blondie’s lapels, dragging his face closer. “You’re starting to make me mad.”
A look flashed over Blondie’s features, like a brilliant flash of insight followed by an ingratiating smirk. “Hands off me, bro. I’m warning you.” He smiled, but his eyes changed colors under the weak sunlight.
Lupo felt the connection below the surface. Felt the similarity. Or the Creature felt it. Either way, the look passed between them, and Lupo’s Change almost bubbled up, unbidden, the Creature taking control.
Until a voice broke through the haze of the moment.
“Boys. Boys!” Heather Wilson had spotted them and crossed the street while they grappled. Her presence was like a pin bursting a balloon, and the air blew out in a rush.
“What’s going on? Detective?” Then she turned to Blondie. “Tef?”
Tef. What kind of name was that?
“Nothing,” Tef said, crossing his arms and smirking. “Least, not yet.”
Lupo noted some tats peeking from under his sleeves.
“You harassing my friends?” she said, aiming at Lupo, frowning. Her eyes flashed anger and surprise, but curiosity too.
He backed off. No point getting all of them arrested. Blondie smiled widely, smarmy and condescending, like a bully who’d been given a free pass.
Tef is one of them. He’s one of the pack.
Lupo knew it without a doubt.
And he had to let him go. For now.
Heather Wilson
The testosterone level was intoxicating. Standing near these two men, she wished she could bed them both right then. Not that she’d ever shied away from such things. She had left a long trail of broken and used-up men in every town, and more than one had been forced to perform in a duo or trio in order to satisfy her.
She smiled to herself. The anger hovering over the two splendid males was still there, but so was something else underneath it all.
Tef was smug. Sarcastic. Lupo was—well, Lupo was a cop. He’d got his back up, wanted to beat Tef senseless, but she sensed something stronger there, something more savage. She thrived on the sensation of danger.
And there it was, in front of her.
Tef was a cipher, but Lupo she could read.
“What are you doing here?”
Tef said, “I was coming to meet you.”
Did he smirk while saying coming?
“Were we supposed to meet?”
“I thought a late lunch. If you’re free.”
His photograph was in her pocket. What better way to keep an eye on him than to be with him?
“And you, what were you doing here, Detective Lupo?”
Tef started at the cop’s name.
“Police business,” he said. Almost growled.
He was adorable when his anger was aroused. She smiled widely, one of her best weapons. “I was here on business, too. The murders are keeping me busy. I have a remote update to tape, but then I’m available.” She batted her lids at Lupo, though she spoke to Tef. This was her favorite game. Pitting two men against each other and seeing who fought the hardest.
True, Lupo had his little doctor girlfriend to keep him busy, but she couldn’t possibly offer as much as Heather Wilson. She’d found him attractive way back when, and now she’d be making a play for him if it weren’t for this strange Tef kid who really rang her bell.
And who just might be a murderer.
She couldn’t buy it, really. Strange yes, but murderous?
Then again, she’d seen some bizarre things in her career.
No doubt about it, Lupo was the safer one to pursue.
She batted her eyes at Tef now and gave him the big smile. Grabbed his arm and started to lead him away.
Who needs safety, anyway?
“I have a few minutes for coffee. Want some?”
Tef nodded uncertainly, as if control had shifted too quickly for him.
She pulled him away, and they left Lupo standing there, his car askew on the street.
Lupo
Arnow was in his office, under assault from the jerk they called a mayor. The door was closed, but the tone of their voices said plenty even if Lupo didn’t hear the words. He waited, watching the hectic doings of the deputies as they prepared to head out. They glared at him, knowing he was a cop, but somehow on the outside. He wasn’t one of them, a local.
The mayor—wasn’t his name Malko?—exited Arnow’s office and frowned at Lupo as he walked to the door.
Arnow waved him inside and into a chair.
“Jesus, you have to put up with that a lot?”
Arnow grinned with no humor. “You can’t imagine. That guy’s my biggest headache. Listen, Lupo, I apologize for being a jerk earlier.”
“Nah, I get it. We’re interfering.”
“Well, I asked for help, you know. So then I can’t go ballistic when people try. It’s just, you know, the way you came in here.”
Lupo made a gesture. “No problem. Forget about it. I’ve got a couple things for you, though. The lady reporter has a stalker. He calls himself a fan, and she’s letting him puppy-dog her, but he’s a strange one. Name of Tef. Drives a striped Geo Tracker.”
“Tef? Weird name.” He jotted some notes on a pad. “I’ll see what I can find out. What else?”
“Yesterday somebody in a rented Altima was following the Tef kid.”
“Really? Interesting. You ran the plate?”
Lupo grinned. “Yeah. Figured I’d save you the time. D. W. Schwartz. Hertz long-term rental.”
“No bells ringing.” He added the name to his pad. “Anything else?”
Lupo wondered if there was sarcasm in the sheriff’s voice. Couldn’t quite tell.
“One more thing. May be nothing to do with this, but my partner down in MPD actually caught it. I gather there’ve been some disappearances?”
Arnow nodded. “I’ve got a small stack of reports from around the tri-county area, but—”
One of the deputies leaned in the door. “Sheriff, we got a riot brewing over at River Park.” Halloran, maybe, Lupo thought.
“What’s the deal?”
“That Lydell guy on the radio’s callin’ ‘em out to protest the casino and shit.”
“Christ. I don’t need this! Hal, grab everybody available, call in the patrols. Then go disperse the idiots before they get out of hand. Use some judgment, okay? I’m going to Lydell’s. Care to join me, Lupo?”
“Lead on.”
They took Arnow’s cruiser. Lupo squished his bulk into the passenger seat, crowded with the laptop station, the camera and recording gear, the radar gun, and the Remington shotgun in its cradle. Lupo spotted the short, squat shape strapped to Arnow’s ankle. “Extra Glock?”
Arnow nodded. “Whatever’s out there, I want to have enough rounds.”
Not good enough, Lupo thought. But he nodded in understanding.
They swung past the park, where about a hundred people were scattered around a group of picnic tables. Somebody with a megaphone had climbed a table. A couple of signs waved limply overhead. As they raced past, sirens came up from behind.
Arnow growled. “Just what we need, shit like this.”
Lydell’s station was a converted Quonset hut with a clapboard addition and a huge garage shed erected behind it. A rusted transmission tower was the only clue the building housed a radio station.
Arnow burst into the front door, Lupo trailing him, curious.
“I need to see Lydell,” he snapped at the pimply kid sitting behind a computer. He tapped his badge.
“Brother Lydell’s on the air!” The kid jumped up halfway but stopped, intimidated. “You need an appointment!”
“Official business,” Arnow said. “I’m making one.”
They invaded the rear room and saw Lydell at the microphone behind a glass partition. His voice rattled a wall-mounted speaker on their side of the glass. His round body was slouched as he shouted into the microphone. When he heard them, he stopped in midsentence, and his eyes widened.
“Brothers, it looks as if the forces of fascism have broken the sacred seal of the First Amendment and entered to wave their weapons in my face.”
Arnow made a face. “This guy’s full of shit. I can’t believe anybody listens.”
“The masses need jerks like this to give them purpose.” Lupo shook his head. “He’s right, though. You can’t shut him down.”
Arnow nodded. “Sure, but it’s my duty to remind him that if his little science project blows up and somebody on either side gets hurt, it’ll be his ass in both civil and state court. Chances are he doesn’t realize he can be held responsible for inciting that riot.”
“But I do, Sheriff,” said Lydell, who had stepped out of his booth. On the speaker, a recorded rant played.
“Then consider yourself warned, Lydell. Keep up the hate speech, and we’ll be seeing a judge. I’ll have your license pulled.”
The round body shook with laughter. “You think so, Sheriff? You’ll find it’s not that easy.”
“No? Try me.”
“I don’t have to. We’re supported in part by a city fund. I believe there are also county interests, due to our publicservice programming. Check with the mayor if you don’t believe me.” His chins shook as he wagged his head. “I bet Mayor Malko doesn’t know you burst in here. But he will!”
“I don’t give a shit about the mayor,” Arnow growled. But his anger had been tempered. “Just lay off the hate speech, or we’ll find out in court who wins this one. It’ll cost you in some way, I promise.”
Lydell turned on Lupo. “I know who you are. You’re that Indian-lover cop from the heathen city. You’ll get yours.”
Arnow put a hand on his arm. Lupo waved him off. He wasn’t taking the bait. But the Creature inside him threatened to erupt in an angry growl.
They left with Lydell’s mocking cackle still in their ears.
“Fuckin’ Malko,” Arnow said when they were back in the cruiser. “The fucker’s rapidly dropping off my Christmas card list.”
“Doesn’t sound like he should be helping fund that jerk,” Lupo said.
“You wouldn’t think so.”
“Maybe he’s our guy?”
“Faking animal attacks? I don’t see it. He’s just a fat racist hate- monger.”
Lupo nodded.
They headed back to the sheriff’s office.
Meanwhile Halloran reached the sheriff by radio to report the crowd had been dispersed without incident, at least this time.
Arnow pinched the tip of his nose and wiped his eyes.
“We’ve got one council member and his family in a safe house,” Lupo said, explaining Sam’s location. “The others are resisting.”
“I was pissed about you doing that, but I gotta admit, my hands are tied. The county and the tribe have an unusual relationship. The mayor wasn’t thrilled to hear you and Doc Hawkins are offering to help by sequestering surviving council members. Said we can protect our own.”
“Point is they’re not really your own, right?”
“Yes and no. Gray area. I never expected so many gray areas, dammit.”
“Me either, Arnow. Me either. Life’s a shitload of ‘em.”
Heather Wilson
They had coffee in the Internet café on Railroad Street. She used the wi-fi to check her e-mail, while Tef made eyes at her and lapped at his drink with the same tongue that set her genitals to melting. His mocking look annoyed her, but she couldn’t help lusting for him anyway.
Lupo looked good, too. She would have made a move on him if this kid hadn’t got under her skin. Damn him! He was insufferable. Quietly mocking, superior, demanding, damn near abusive of her body—if she hadn’t liked it rough, she might have had him arrested. But he seemed to have her number from the first moment they spotted each other.
“What have you learned about the…killings?” he asked when she’d shut her laptop.
“I’m only covering the crimes for the station,” she explained. “Not investigating.”
“You are being disingenuous, no?”
Big word! she thought. “Well, yes, if I learn something that’ll help solve the case, I’d pass it on. It would be a—a coup, for sure.” She dazzled him with her best smile. “Do you have any information for me? You seem to be here on some kind of mission.”
Did his eyes harden at that? She smiled again and under the table set her bare right foot between his feet. She worked her way up his leg, then caressed his bulge with her toes.
“Maybe I’m your mission?” she said playfully.
“Maybe you are,” he whispered, his look betraying the fact that her caresses were working. “Maybe we now have a mission together.”
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