Night Stalker (Rosie O'Grady's Paranormal Bar and Grill Book 2)

by BR Kingsolver

  “How did your hunting go last night?” I asked her as we threaded our way through the room full of cubicles.

  “This job really sucks sometimes,” she answered. “I can’t believe how sick some people are. We busted seventeen people last night and confiscated a total of thirty-one vampire heads and four wolves. The body counts were lower when the vamps were running out of control. At least they didn’t kill all their victims.”

  “And all of the people you busted will go to that prison in Canada that Frankie told me about?”

  “The paranormals, yes. The norms we’ll send to a prison in Greenland,” Mackle said. “The paranormal councils in North America and Europe jointly run that one. If it was up to me, we’d haul their asses out in the ocean and sink the boat.”

  She left me at Blair’s open door. He was sitting behind his desk working on the computer and didn’t seem to notice me. I tapped on the door jamb, and he looked up, then smiled.

  “Erin! Come in.” He shoved the keyboard away from him and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I’ve heard rumors that cop-shop coffee is terrible,” I said with a smile.

  He chuckled. “Normally it is, but as you can see, I grind and brew my own.”

  Getting up from his desk, he poured me a mug from a pot sitting in one of those drip coffee makers on the sideboard and warmed up his own cup. It smelled good, and when I took a sip, I discovered it was good.

  “So, what brings you down here?” he asked, resuming his seat behind the desk.

  “I was hoping you could explain in a little more detail what exactly I’ve gotten myself into. Frankie’s a nice lady, but she’s a lawyer, and I don’t feel like I’m getting the full picture.”

  Actually, playing on Blair’s attraction to me, I was hoping to get a little more truth from him. Manipulative? A little bit. The Illuminati trained me to use whatever tools were necessary, and this game with the vampires was definitely life or death.

  “Okay,” he said, “what’s not clear?”

  “I understand that vampires are people, except when they’re not, and you guys define that according to whatever serves your purpose at the moment,” I said. “I also understand that you want this bounty frenzy to end so that you don’t have headless bodies littering the streets for citizens to trip over. I also understand that you want to take care of the problem before the vampire lords decide to take care of it themselves, and before the shifters turn out in force to hunt the hunters.”

  Blair nodded at each of my points.

  Taking a deep breath, I continued. “Frankie wants me to try and steal Constance Gardner’s ledger. She also got excited about the bank bands on the money Gardner paid me. In some way, she plans to use that information to identify the money men behind all of this.”

  He nodded again.

  “What I can’t seem to make the connection on is how she’s going to take down the money men. She can’t haul them into court and accuse them of paying bounties to kill vampires because vampires don’t exist. I doubt seriously that she has the power to haul a bunch of prominent citizens off to her paranormal-run prisons, either. So, what is she going to do to make them stop?”

  It was Blair’s turn to take a deep breath. He turned his face up to the ceiling and was quiet. I sipped my coffee and let him sort out what to tell me.

  “Someday,” he finally said, “I hope to learn what kind of training you’ve had. You’d make a damned good cop. You know that Frankie thinks the money men are part of the Columbia Club, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Her father and some of the other members aren’t happy about what’s going on. Frankie’s father has told her that if she gets him proof, he and the others who think like he does will pressure the bounty payers to stop.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Erin, you’re a mage. You live in that world and I don’t. But I know there are questions that are better left unasked, so I assume you do, too. How do paranormals deal with rogues? Especially those who endanger the secret of your existence?”

  I gave a slight shrug. He was right. There were questions you didn’t ask, and there were also answers that you didn’t voice. If Frankie’s dad and his friends were powerful enough, they could impose their will, or just kill those who stepped out of line. And if not, they had the funds to hire assassins—people like I used to be, people who could create accidents. It was rare in the paranormal world for an assassination to look like murder.

  “Okay. Thanks,” I said. “That’s kind of what I thought. It kind of grates to let mass murderers get away with it, especially since the grunts on the ground will get punished. But I understand.”

  There was another matter I was interested in. “Lieutenant, Frankie said that your team would be following Gardner twenty-four seven. And did the tracking chip work?”

  “Jordan, please,” he said. “According to Mackle, the head never left the warehouse. As to Gardner, yes, we followed her. She was at the warehouse from nine in the evening until nine the next morning. From there, she went to a luxury hotel downtown. She’s driving a rented blue Mercedes.”

  “License plate?” I asked.

  He gave it to me. I hesitated, but I had to confide in someone. Blair and I had come close to death together, and as much as I liked him before, that created a special bond, and someone needed to know.

  “Someone has been stalking me,” I said. “I’ve seen them several times, once as close as we are right now. I assumed it was a man, but now I’m not so sure.”

  Blair sat up in his chair and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

  “I’ve only seen this person at night, and they wear a long, black cloak with a peaked hood. It started long before all this bounty-hunter stuff.” I took a deep breath. Blair was listening, his eyes riveted on me. “Constance Gardner had a cloak like that hanging in her office both times I was there.”

  I stood up and put my coffee cup on the sideboard.

  “See you tomorrow night, Lieutenant.”

  “Erin. I have tickets to Carmen in two weeks. Interested?”

  The lieutenant and I shared a love of opera, and he had season tickets. My first impulse was to leap at the ticket, but I thought about Trevor. Would he understand me going out with someone else? Even if I had no intention of sleeping with Blair, it might be taken the wrong way.

  “Can I give you an answer in a couple of days?” I asked. “What night is it?”

  “Saturday.”

  I shook my head. “I’m already taking a week off to work this case for you. I’ll have to talk to Sam.” And to Trevor.

  “Sure. Let me know.” He looked happy, and I realized it was because I hadn’t said no.

  Chapter 18

  The following evening, we met the cops at the same place as we had before. Jolene, Josh, and Trevor planned to park near the warehouse so they could track me and so I would have close backup if I needed it.

  We waited for some of the hunters to drive down the road toward the warehouse, and the cops let them through. Three guys in a pickup truck. Five minutes later, I drove in the same direction. Their truck was still parked by the loading dock when I arrived.

  Hugo let me in but didn’t take me back to the office immediately. I took the opportunity to try and get some information from him.

  “So, who do you sell these things to?” I casually asked, as though I was just making conversation. “Head hunters in New Guinea?”

  He thought that was funny and guffawed.

  “No, seriously,” I pressed. “You have to dispose of them somehow. This one’s fresh, and it already stinks.”

  The big oaf shook his head. “Got a witch that spells them. Don’t rot, don’t stink.”

  “Well, that’s certainly handy,” I said. “I know a couple of witches. So, why does the witch want them? I never saw anyone do a spell using a vampire head. Or does she just use the teeth?”

  “She don’t use them.” />
  “Then why does she pay for them?”

  “She don’t. Someone else does.”

  “Why do they want them? I mean, what good are they? You can’t eat them, can you?”

  His eyes bulged a little. “Just want the vamps dead.”

  I shook my head. “I’m confused. They’re already dead.”

  His pocket squawked, and he pulled a little walkie-talkie thing out of it. “Yeah?”

  “Bring the next one back,” Constance’s voice said, “and escort these gentlemen out.”

  Thankfully, the three bounty hunters waiting in her office to be escorted out didn’t include anyone I recognized. If they hung out at Rosie’s, it wasn’t on my shift.

  “Ah, Miss McLane,” Gardner said after Hugo and the others left. “Back again.”

  I nodded and hefted the garbage bag onto her desk.

  “Don’t put that thing on my desk,” she said with a sneer, waving her hand. “Put it over there by the door. Hugo will take it away.”

  Without even inspecting the contents of the bag, she pulled money out of her desk and handed it to me.

  “The vamps are getting harder to find,” I said. “They’re staying off the street.”

  Gardner nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen business fall significantly this week.”

  “You may have to think about paying more,” I said. “If I have to go dig them out of their holes, it will be a lot more work.”

  “That’s not my problem. If you’re not interested, others will be. Where else can you make two thousand dollars in a night? You can’t sell yourself for that kind of money, and those thugs who just left can’t even do that.”

  That was a little offensive. Even though I wasn’t a supermodel, I liked to think I was worth a whole lot more than two thousand dollars. Of course, I had never tried to determine my fair-market price.

  I let my eyes travel toward the cloak hanging in the corner. She noted the direction of my attention and started to glance that way. As soon as she was distracted, I moved toward the cloak.

  “This is a wonderful cloak,” I said, lightly brushing it with my fingertips and planting one of Jolene’s trackers on it. “Where did you get it?”

  “I’ve had it for a very long time,” she said, an edge of irritation in her voice. “I’m a little old-fashioned.”

  I had noticed that her wardrobe looked rather mid-twentieth century. Considering her age, she was probably comfortable in Victorian gowns.

  “Oh. Too bad. I’d love to have something like it. It’s probably really good in a wet climate like this.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  From my place next to the cloak, I could see behind her desk. Two drawers on either side of the space for her legs. The one on the bottom right held the money. Depending on whether she was left- or right-handed, one of the top drawers probably held a pistol. Would she keep her ledger at the office? I was willing to bet that she kept her accounts current as the night progressed. Less work that way, and probably a lot of downtime between dealing with the hunters.

  I was torn about whether I should take her then, but couldn’t figure out how much more I would learn by continuing the game I was playing. I certainly didn’t want to transport any more heads, and besides, if she wasn’t providing a market, maybe the bounty hunters would stop harvesting heads.

  My hesitation alarmed her.

  “Is there anything else, Miss McLane?”

  I pushed ley line energy at her, knocking her chair over and spilling her on the floor. Springing forward, I grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides, using magic to contain her strength.

  “Hugo!” she screamed.

  The door opened almost immediately.

  “Kill her!”

  “Aw, that’s so extreme,” I said. “I’m not hurting you.”

  Hugo lunged forward, reaching for me. I kicked out and caught him in the thigh. He spun off balance and fell.

  Scrambling to my feet, I used ley line energy to pull Gardner upright with me. Unfortunately, I could either control her or shield myself, but not both at the same time. She stomped my foot, a move I would have made in the same situation, and one I should have been prepared for. The pain was excruciating as bones broke. If I hadn’t been wearing my Hunter’s boots, the foot would have been totally shattered.

  Unfortunately for her, the pain caused me to clench my fists, one of which was clasped around her right upper arm. I felt the bone break and she screamed.

  Hugo wasn’t fast, but he was big, and while I was distracted, he struggled to his feet and took a swing at me. The glancing blow he delivered to my head knocked me off balance, and Gardner managed to get away. She didn’t waste any time on me, but grabbed her cloak on her way through the office’s back door.

  I started to follow, but one step with my right foot showed me that I wouldn’t be running anywhere that night. Then Hugo grabbed me from behind in a bear hug and squeezed. My ribs creaked, and all the air was pushed from my lungs. In a panic, I pushed a burst of ley energy upwards, and he let go of me. Grabbing onto the desk for stability, I whirled around to face him. He lay on the floor, the unnatural angle of his head and his wide-staring eyes proving he was no longer a threat.

  My foot felt as though it was on fire. I managed to pull Gardner’s chair upright and sat down, then fished in my coat pocket for my phone.

  “Trevor? She got away. She’s on the move and I can’t follow her. I did manage to plant one of the trackers on her cloak.”

  “Got it. Jolene?” I heard him say, and then Jolene’s voice, faintly, “Yeah, I’ve got her.”

  “Trevor?”

  “Yeah, we’ve got her. Are you coming out?”

  “I don’t think so. Send in the cops. Tell them to watch out, there may be a witch and some other people here.”

  “Okay. Are you all right?”

  “Just peachy, but I think my foot is broken,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just catch the bitch.”

  I made a mental note to spend some of the money I was earning on pain and healing potions. For the time being, I relied on the mental exercises taught by the Hunters’ Guild. One had to overcome pain sometimes in order to stay alive, and the techniques were designed to shut off the pain and clear my head so I could adequately defend myself. I sighed in relief as the pain receded—not gone, but no longer blinding agony.

  Hugo’s corpse and I waited for what seemed like forever. I spent the time going through the desk. A hundred thousand in twenty-dollar bills was awfully tempting, and I argued with myself whether taking a few bundles would be stealing. I had sworn off that sort of thing. Eventually, though, I realized that the cops would confiscate it, and whoever it truly belonged to would never get it back. Five of the little bundles went into the inside pockets of my coat. If Westport got any crazier, I might need running money.

  The pistol was in the top left-hand drawer. I called Trevor again.

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “Watch her left hand. Her right arm is broken, but she’s left-handed.”

  “Got it, thanks.”

  I hung up and continued searching. The ledger was in the top right-hand drawer. In a tight, neat hand Gardner had detailed how many heads she had received, on what days, from whom, and how much she paid. In a second ledger book she had a duplicate set of transactions, but the money was different. After looking at it for a minute or so, I realized those were the amounts she kept as brokerage fees. She had made almost a quarter of a million dollars in blood money since setting up her little operation. The bounty hunters had been paid for two hundred and thirty-five vampires and sixty werewolves.

  Any sympathy I might have had for her evaporated as I looked at the numbers. Although she might not have killed them personally, she exceeded even me as a mass murderer.

  Sounds of voices and banging came from the warehouse. I assumed the cops had finally arrived.

  My phone rang. “Yeah?”

  “Where are you?” Frankie’s voice.

 
“In the office, about halfway between the front door and the loading dock on the west side.”

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’m hurt. I can’t walk.”

  “Hang on.” The phone went dead.

  A short time later, I heard a gunshot—loud in the near-silence—that made me jump. There was a lot of yelling and then a bang on the office door.

  “Erin? Are you in there?” Lieutenant Blair called.

  “Yeah,” I shouted back. “I don’t think the door is locked.”

  The door swung open violently, hitting the wall with a bang and bouncing back. Someone’s foot kept it from closing, and then Blair and another cop I knew, Sergeant Bailey, came through the door with guns in their hands.

  I held my hands in the air. “Don’t shoot!”

  They looked around, Bailey checked Hugo, and then Blair came around the desk.

  “How are you hurt?” he asked.

  I pointed to the pistol in the open drawer. “You probably want to secure that. It’s loaded.” I took a deep breath. “I think my right foot is broken.”

  Bailey stood up from where he was crouched by Hugo and walked to the door. “Hey!” he shouted. “Need the paramedics in here.”

  A couple of guys carrying little suitcases came in and started examining me. One of them pulled out a large pair of weird-looking scissors.

  “What are those for?” I asked.

  “I’m going to cut off the boot.”

  I smiled at him. “Do you have a special tool for extracting that thing from your ass?”

  He froze.

  “All you have to do is ask me to take the boot off,” I said. “But no one is going to cut that boot.”

  I didn’t tell him that scissors wouldn’t do the job. They might damage the leather, but they would never make a dent in the Kevlar lining. I bent over and started unlacing the boot. When I was finished, I locked my teeth together and pushed it off my foot. Hurt like crazy, but I wasn’t about to ask them for a painkiller. I didn’t trust human doctors enough to let them work on me when I was unconscious.