by Debra Webb
Hunter stood, pointed to the map on her desk. “Gallops Island,” he said, as if that should mean something to her.
She knew better than this. “What about it?”
“Viktor and his followers used to call the island home.”
That couldn’t be right. Rowen searched her memory banks. “Wait. That island was closed years ago.” She mentioned the year, recalled quite clearly reading about it. “Asbestos or something. The contamination was related to military use.” She remembered reading about it in the Reporter, of all places.
“That’s what the government wanted people to believe.”
She let him see her skepticism. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Viktor and his followers were red flagged by the Bureau. A team was sent there five years ago and reportedly found nothing. But when the incidents continued, another team was called in two years later.”
Three years ago, when she’d met Hunter. He and his team had come to Boston to research whatever it was they researched. She’d had a vague idea. Psychic phenomena. He’d kept his work to himself and she hadn’t asked. She knew all about security classifications and she didn’t have authorization to know what his work consisted of. It wasn’t a problem…until he walked away and never looked back.
Resentment scorched through her. She tried. She really tried not to go there, but it was impossible. Dammit, she still had feelings for the man. How totally stupid was that? But she couldn’t let him inside again. Couldn’t let him do what he’d done before, take her heart into his hands and then walk away.
“What kind of incidents?” She set her hands on her hips and gave him a look that summed up her position.
“At first, it was dead rabbits. Dozens and dozens of dead rabbits washing up on other shores.”
Rabbits? She remembered reading in that same Reporter article that the island’s major population consisted of rabbits. Lots and lots of rabbits.
Realization hit her then. “Viktor and his friends,” she guessed. She suppressed a shudder at the idea.
“Nobody really worried about the rabbits, but before long there was a body or two, then ten, and that was a different story.”
She shook her head. “That’s impossible. If there were murders I would have known about it. That’s our jurisdiction.”
“Technically, it’s the Bureau’s—former military post. We took over control from the Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation years ago.”
“A military post? Hunter, that’s ancient history. World War II or something like that.”
“Civil War, as well. Soldiers were quartered there back then.”
She held up her hands, her patience at an end. “All right. So Viktor and his crowd had inhabited Gallops Island. They used the wildlife for survival. I suppose that’s no different from those who hunt deer on the mainland.”
Hunter stared at the floor a moment, then, to her surprise, he reached up and took off his dark glasses so that he could look directly at her. He blinked a couple of times and then those gray eyes bored into hers like twin laser beams. “That’s one way to look at it.”
Her hackles rose. Had he considered her rationalization a way of siding with Viktor? That was hardly what she’d intended.
“What’s your way of looking at it?” she asked sharply.
“Viktor Azariel came here from Eastern Europe. He amassed untold wealth in less than a decade. While his followers survived on the wildlife of Gallops Island, he erected a mansion in the Berkshires.”
Wasn’t that, too, the way the world worked? The few grew rich and fat, so to speak, while most slaved for a pittance, barely getting by. The system worked the same in most cultures.
“So, he’s a jerk. Did he gain his wealth through illegal means?” She didn’t doubt that for a second. He seemed exactly the type.
“No. He’s legit in his business dealings.”
“Look.” She glanced at her watch. She really had to get out of here. “Just cut to the chase, Hunter. I’m late.” When she’d made an appearance at the office, she wanted to check in on Finch’s autopsy.
That piercing gaze leveled on hers, seeming to look right into her thoughts. She shifted uneasily.
“When my team came in, we had certain orders,” Hunter told her. “We learned that the original team hadn’t reported accurately, but no one ever owned up to the discrepancy. Due to the nature of the situation, we were to analyze the circumstances and then the whole population was to be exterminated.”
His words stunned her. Exterminated. These were people he was talking about. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “Viktor is different on some level. His kind carries an unexplained gene. Something the scientific world can’t account for. Personally, I believe it falls into the category of a hereditary mutation, but my opinion isn’t the final say.”
A picture had begun to form in her head. “This mutated gene creates this disease—the need for constant transfusions of fresh blood?”
“Yes. A thirst, Viktor calls it.”
Rowen closed her eyes for a second and held up both hands. “Okay. So he claims that this whatever it is makes him a vampire?” Even as she said the words, she wanted to take them back.
“That’s right. He claims he was there on Gallops Island before the Mass 54th Regiment.”
The air rushed out of her lungs. A pre-Civil War vampire, no less. “Right. So, how were his kind exterminated? Stakes through the heart?” They were way, way into that creepy zone now. Laughter bubbled up in her throat. Unfortunately, it wasn’t from amusement; it was more like hysteria. This was too much for a common, everyday cop to absorb.
“They were executed, then burned.”
She blinked. He was serious. “How can that be? They were human…right?”
Hunter dropped his head. “There were those who didn’t think so.”
Another reality took her breath. “You were in charge of this…this massacre?” Oh, God. Surely Hunter wouldn’t have gone along with anything like that.
“No. I didn’t know in the beginning what was planned. I was a scientist. But my confirmation of the threat is what initiated the action. When I found out, I tried to stop it but I was too late.”
“So, they all died?”
“All but Viktor and a handful of his closest followers.”
“You warned him…that’s why he didn’t kill you that night.” Viktor had said he could have killed Hunter, but he hadn’t. Fate had had other plans for them. This couldn’t be real. Too off the wall. “Hunter, I’m not sure—”
“I know what you think.” He rubbed at his eyes and she wondered if going without the shielding glasses was too much for him. The room was barely lit. The blinds closed tightly, but that still might exceed his tolerance. “My team conducted research which addressed phenomena beyond the normal range of what is scientifically explainable.”
She got that. Telekinesis, telepathy, precognition, clairvoyance, the works, including spirits and other life-forms. But he was a scientist, not a regular agent. To stand by and watch the execution of any life-form, human or not, had to have gone against the grain of all that he believed.
“So Viktor and a small number escaped and you pretended not to notice.”
“Yes.”
Her head ached. Rowen rubbed her temples with her thumb and forefinger. “What does this have to do with the South End Murders?” A part of her didn’t want to know this. Like most, she required a certain level of optimism and faith in mankind in general to survive. Even seven years as a cop hadn’t jaded her that badly.
“I warned Viktor that he should look for alternative methods to fulfill his needs. A way that wouldn’t draw attention to him or his followers.”
The donor system. But that wasn’t anything new. Certainly not within the past three years. This was an old cult system.
“He adopted a method he insisted some of his kind had used for centuries.”
Well, that clarified that is
sue. “That still doesn’t answer the basic question.” Though she found Viktor’s history intriguing, she had bigger problems just now. “Who is committing these murders?”
“Whoever it is knows about Viktor.” Hunter moved around the desk, came closer to her. “He knows I allowed some to escape three years ago.”
Another frown tugged at her brow. “But you said your entire team was killed.”
“They were. There’s no question there.”
“Then how can Viktor be right about that? And if he’s not, what does this have to do with you or me?”
“The first team. The ones who claimed they found nothing. It has to be someone involved with that team.”
“Does Viktor believe the first team found something?” She still didn’t see how it fit, but somehow it started to lean in that direction, had her instincts humming. “If they didn’t find anything, how would they know?”
Hunter gestured to her computer. “I’ve gone into the Bureau’s database and reviewed the records of the six members of that first team.”
She raised an eyebrow in question. “How can you do that? You’re not with the Bureau anymore.”
“I know a couple of back doors.”
The idea that he stood only a couple of feet away suddenly bothered her…made her too ill at ease in her own skin. “What did you find?”
“Three are dead. One works in private practice, one has advanced up the ranks at the Bureau’s Washington division. But the final one, the one who would have been in charge, left the Bureau four years ago. Just six months after his team assessed the Gallops Island incident.”
“All right. I’m with you so far.”
“It’s as if he dropped off the face of the earth after that.”
That in itself would be suspicious. “The Bureau hasn’t kept track of him? Isn’t that standard protocol?”
“It is. But he’s somehow fallen through the net.”
“What’s his name?”
“Nathan McGill. No wife, no kids, just one sister: Marge Finch. Your dead cop was McGill’s nephew.”
ROWEN STRODE THROUGH the marble-floored lobby of One Schroeder Plaza and boarded a waiting elevator. At this time of morning, one didn’t have to wait.
She didn’t slow down until she’d reached the chief’s office and even then, she ignored his secretary as she tried to waylay Rowen.
The chief looked up as she burst into his private sanctuary. From the looks of his two visitors, only one of whom was familiar to Rowen, they hadn’t expected any interruptions. The one man she recognized was on the city planning board. Considering his presence, they were likely discussing expansion or upgrading of facilities.
“We have to talk.”
Chief Koppel looked from Rowen to the two men. “Will you excuse me, gentlemen?” Apparently he understood that what she had to say couldn’t wait.
The two got up and left the room, eyeing her speculatively as they did.
“Detective O’Connor, you’d better have a damned good reason for this intrusion.” He gestured for her to take a chair. “You’re already on my shit list. We had to conduct a press conference, as well as briefing the mayor, without you this morning and you’re the lead investigator on this case.”
She sat down reluctantly, fighting back the fury and attempting to escape her flimsy hold on composure. “Why was Detective Finch assigned to my case?”
A frown furrowed across the chief’s broad forehead. “What the hell are you talking about? He just transferred in. Why wouldn’t I assign him to the hottest case on the books?”
Not outside the realm of possibility.
“No one asked you to assign him to our group?”
A flicker of something like surprise flashed in his eyes before he could stop it. “Why do you ask?”
“Just tell me the truth, Chief. Did someone ask you to assign Finch to this case?”
He shrugged. “The mayor’s personal assistant. The mayor is apparently an old friend of his mother’s. You know she’s the only family Finch had,” he added as an aside. “The mayor’s assistant passed along the request. Finch wanted to make a big splash. We needed the manpower. That’s where I would have put him anyway.”
Well, Finch had sure as hell gotten his big splash. Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be any encores. “Do you know Finch’s mother?”
Chief Koppel shook his head. “What the hell is this about, O’Connor?”
“Finch was set up,” she told him. “He was supposed to die. It was a warning to me.”
She’d had to swear on her life that she wouldn’t tell anything Hunter had told her. He waited close by. He wouldn’t say where, just said he’d be watching her. But she had to know that the chief was not in on this. It was crazy. Because they didn’t have a suspect, everyone suddenly was one. For her own piece of mind, whatever the hell was going on, she had to be sure the chief was with her.
Koppel leaned forward, braced his arms on his desk. “Look, O’Connor, this case is getting to all of us, but I think maybe you’re taking this the wrong way. You can’t be sure the message was about you. Four other female victims have died. The message could be for any female walking the streets of Boston. Why don’t you track down Merv and the two of you can hash this out.” He sighed. “I have a meeting with the Bureau this afternoon. They’re going to send in one of their special teams.”
She shook her head, almost laughed. Too little, too late. “They won’t find anything, Chief. This isn’t about the murders. It’s about something bigger…I just haven’t figured out what yet.”
He let go a mighty breath. “Do me a favor, O’Connor. When you figure it out, let me in on it, would you?”
She walked out of his office, confident that he was innocent of any involvement. But the mayor or his personal assistant was a different story. One or both of them had placed Finch in her investigation for some reason other than for him to make a big splash, as the chief had called it.
Rowen made a quick call to Merv and the two of them rendezvoused at their favorite coffeehouse. To Rowen’s dismay, he brought Doherty with him. She wasn’t sure about trusting the other detective but at this point, time was too short not to. Besides, Merv probably felt more as if Doherty was his partner these days.
“You’re sure about this,” Merv ventured.
She’d told him the parts Hunter had said were safe to pass along. Bureau connection. Agent turned bad guy, etc.
“I’m certain.”
“Why would the guy want to set up his own nephew?” Doherty wanted to know.
She couldn’t answer that one. But she would get to the truth. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Finch was supposed to keep someone abreast of the investigation. Some of Viktor’s people could have done this despite his denial.
“I need you and Doherty to keep an eye on the mayor and his assistant. Do a little unofficial eavesdropping.”
“You want us to put the mayor and his personal assistant under surveillance?” Doherty’s eyes were wide with disbelief as he asked the question. He surely thought she’d lost her mind, and maybe she had.
“That’s right.”
“You know what you’re asking is illegal, don’t you, Ro?”
The eavesdropping. “Yes, I do. I’m lead investigator. I’ll take the rap if you get caught.”
Merv shrugged. “All right, then. So what’re you going to be doing in the meantime?”
She needed to see Cost and then she intended to find Nathan McGill. “I’ll check in with Cost and work on finding Finch’s missing uncle.”
If Doherty couldn’t be trusted, she was in real trouble here. Her gaze must have shifted to him as she considered whether or not the detective was trustworthy because he spoke up.
“I know you don’t trust me,” he said. “Not like you do Merv here. But you can count on me. I’ve never let a partner down yet.”
Rowen wondered if when this was all said and done she would be able to say the same. She’d lied to her partner at least twice. Wo
uld likely lie to him again before this was over.
But there was no other way, not if she intended to keep Viktor Azariel’s secret.
The question was, did Azariel’s conclusions justify the risk she was taking?
“Good. Merv and I need you.”
When she was about to leave the coffeehouse, Merv held her up outside the ladies’ room. “You sure you’re okay, Ro? You look exhausted.”
She squeezed his arm. “We’re all exhausted, Merv. But we’re going to figure this out.”
He nodded. “Doherty and I will take care of the mayoral connection. You just take care of you.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ve got my own personal guardian angel.”
His eyebrows winged upward. “The guy in black from the crime scene this morning?”
She nodded.
“He definitely looks like he could play the part.”
Her cell phone rang just then. “I’ll touch base with you later. Give me a call if you learn anything useful.”
Merv gave her a nod and sauntered off to catch up with Doherty.
Both men were putting their careers in her hands. She hoped like hell she wouldn’t let them down.
“O’Connor.”
“Detective, I have something for you.”
The M.E.
“Give me something good, Doc, I’m getting desperate here.” Rowen leaned her forehead against the wall and listened, hoping against hope this would be the break she needed.
“I found the drug.”
Her head came up. “Give me the details, Doc. Don’t leave anything out.”
ROWEN DROVE BACK to her place shortly after 2 p.m. Hunter would be on her tail somewhere, but he was good. She hadn’t seen him. But he was there…she could feel him.
She parked, unlocked her door and went inside. This confrontation had to be conducted on her turf. Cost had given her the one thing she needed most.
