Dante shrugged. “Where else are we going to get our duct tape and ammo?”
“I suppose you have an Olive Garden, too.”
“Nope. Not that.”
Well, that definitely made all the difference.
“What’s old Bucky boy’s address again?” Dante asked.
“Twenty-one-oh-nine, off Duck Pond Lane.” I wasn’t familiar with Fairbanks, but I’d Googled the address. “You know it?”
“Duck Pond Lane? Of course.”
“He might be working at the A&P, though.”
“He’s undead, and he’s working a day job?”
I smiled sweetly. “How else is he going to pay for his beer?”
“Right. At least he’s got his priorities straight.”
Dante drove by Buck’s cabin first. Even from seventy feet away, we could see the lights were out and no vehicle parked outside. The places on Duck Pond Lane were spaced out by at least an acre, and there wasn’t any kind of sidewalk or curb to park along. Just one dark, dirt road.
“This is going to be a problem later,” I said.
“No problem,” Dante said. “I’ve got night vision goggles in the trunk.”
I scrunched up my nose. “You mean like spy on him from outside?” I was so not an outdoors girl.
“It’s not like we can pull into his driveway and watch him.”
Dante turned the Jeep around and headed for the A&P. Two lanes of gas pumps took up the spots directly in front of the convenience store’s glass windows. The parking spots on the side of the building faced a brick wall with no view inside, so Dante pulled into a spot across the street along the curb.
Dante drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, staring at the A&P. “I’m hungry,” he said.
“Me, too.”
“We should go in and get a snack.”
“No.”
“No?” Dante grunted. “Who made you team leader?”
I gave Dante the stink eye. “I’m not giving orders. I’m following them.”
Dante threw his head back into his seat and groaned. “This is torture. I don’t do stakeouts. I take action.”
We’d only been outside the A&P five minutes. This was going to be a fun mission.
“Tough tits,” I said.
That made Dante smile wide. He was such a boy. All it took was food or a naughty word to get a grin out of him.
Several minutes later, he sighed and said, “Snoreville,” before reaching forward and turning the radio on.
I retreated into my mind as I’d done a hundred times before. This wasn’t a party, but I had plenty of practice waiting and observing. I was in it for the long haul.
Shortly after nine p.m., Buck walked out of the A&P. Dante’s chair was reclined and his eyes were closed. Not exactly an elite spy. I smacked his shoulder. “There’s Buck.”
Dante had his seat up in an instant. He leaned his whole body to within an inch of his window.
“That guy is my age. How come I don’t recognize him?”
“Buck moved to Fairbanks from Anchorage four months ago.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
Buck walked up to a maroon truck and unplugged the engine from an outlet on the side of the building before getting inside. We followed him to Duck Pond Lane from a far distance. Tailing someone was a cake walk when you already knew where they lived.
Dante drove past Buck’s place then turned around at the end of the road. Two cabins down from Buck’s, Dante pulled over and put the Jeep in park.
“You can wait in the Jeep while I check it out.”
“No way!” I said. “How do I know you’re not going to break in and kill Buck while I’m not looking?”
Dante slouched over the steering wheel. “Well, then you’re going to have to come with me, because I’m not doing this stakeout from the sidelines. I want a front row view.”
My jaw clenched. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Aurora to be tossed into her first mission with this guy. I sighed. “Do you have an extra pair of those goggles?”
Dante grinned. “Nope, you’ll just have to grab onto me and hold on tight.”
“Or you could let me wear them.”
“I don’t think so. You should have brought your own.”
Yeah, cause I really knew to pack infrared goggles.
The inside of the Jeep suddenly lit up when a set of headlights crested the hill. Dante and I went silent as the lights momentarily blinded us. The inside of the Jeep faded back to dark when the lights veered to the side and headed down Buck’s driveway.
“Well, well. Bucky has a visitor,” Dante said. “I’m checking it out.” He reached across me, arm brushing my leg as he opened the glove compartment. I squinted in the dark to see what weapon he’d stashed in there this time, but he pulled out a flashlight. An instant later, Dante exited the car, right after he glanced backwards and said, “Tommy, stay.”
I cursed under my breath as I scrambled out. The cold bit into me. So yeah, Fairbanks was noticeably frigid compared to Anchorage—the kind of cold that made my lungs feel like they were going to freeze solid and turn into an icicle lodged inside my throat.
Luckily, I’d put on a pair of combat boots for the trip north. Not-so-luckily, I had on a black tulle skirt; the one I called my evil ballerina skirt. I’d worn thick tights beneath it in an attempt at practicality.
I might as well have been naked for all the good my clothes did me. I felt like Eve wearing the fig leaf between her legs in the Garden of Freezing.
When I came around the Jeep, Dante had the trunk open, his hands shuffling through a duffel bag. He pulled out a ski jacket and stuffed his arms into the sleeves. Good idea. I pulled my own duffel toward me. The metal zipper was as cold as ice crystals. My fingers barely managed to grip the zipper, numb as they were. Good thing I’d packed my dark purple velvet coat on top. It wasn’t a ski jacket, but it covered my ass. After rummaging around the sides of the bag, I found my arm warmers by touch and pulled those on, too.
There was a loud “clunk” as Dante moved a duffel bag to the edge of the trunk. He set the flashlight down and began securing his head strap. He looked like a death row criminal headed for the electric chair. Helmet and chin strap secure, he screwed on the goggles. Once he had everything strapped and screwed in, he pulled on a pair of thick winter gloves.
What little light the flashlight provided bounced off Dante’s teeth when he turned and smiled. “It’s go time.”
He closed the trunk and started walking down the road, away from Buck’s cabin. I reached out for his arm. “Wait, where are you going?”
“You don’t think we’re just going to waltz up the driveway, do you? That would be too obvious.” Dante continued walking. I had to hurry to keep pace. No way was I holding onto him like an invalid, but I had to keep close—as in body brushing and touching close—in order to stick with him.
Dante paused on the road and turned to face the woods. “We’ll go through here, arc around his cabin, and come around through the back.”
Between the night-darkened willow trees and thick blanket of snow, the world looked like it had turned black and white.
Dante took his first step off the road, and I quickly followed.
“Crap!” I said.
“What?” Dante asked, whipping his head around.
“Snow just went down my boot.”
“At least it won’t melt,” Dante said. “Too cold.”
Happy thought.
We trudged forward, Dante leading the way. The snow slowed him down despite his fancy-pants goggles. When he stopped suddenly I bumped into him Dante turned around. I leaned back instinctively to avoid getting knocked in the face by his scopes. The silly things tilted and moved as Dante looked me up and down.
“Nice coat. You going to prom later tonight?”
“Nice headgear. How’s that retainer working out for you?” I returned.
The contraption shook over Dante’s face when he chuckl
ed. “I like you, Harper. You’re like the little sister I never had.”
Little sister? Enough with the flattery. Boy, did Dante make me feel like a wanted woman. Didn’t matter. He was every bit like an idiotic older brother I’d love to smack a time or two. I stuck my tongue out at him then smiled knowing he could see me through his goggles.
Dante smiled back. At least I thought he did. It was hard to tell in the dark.
“Let’s go, Minnie Mouse.”
Jared hadn’t been far off. Dante was like a bulky, bull-headed moose crashing through the woods, and I was the shivering mouse scampering after him.
Dante was right about the snow not melting in my boot, but it made my toes and calves extra cold and uncomfortable. And it was like getting sand in your shoe at the beach; only these particles stung, and I sure as shit wasn’t frolicking across some god damn tropical beach.
Dante stepped over a fallen tree. I followed immediately behind. My boot sunk into the snow and more of the frozen stuff filled my boot.
Screw this! I was an informant. In-for-mant! I did parties, not field work.
Before I could bitch, Dante said, “We’ve passed his cabin, now all we need to do is circle around and come in from behind.”
No shit we’d passed his cabin. I could see the warm glow in the windows casting an alluring light over the neighboring trees like an invitation. What I couldn’t see were all the roots, rocks, stumps, and branches standing between me and the beckoning light. Even if we had daylight, it would be hard to walk through a virtual land mine hidden beneath snow.
I bumped into Dante several times, but I didn’t care. I doubted he did, either. He kept plowing forward. Once we were on the final approach, I didn’t have to rely on him anymore.
The smell of a wood fire filtered past my frozen nose hairs.
Dante unscrewed his goggles and held them out to me.
“What do you want me to do with those?”
“Hold them for me.”
I scowled. “Hold them yourself. I am not your pack mule.”
A smile was Dante’s only answer. He placed his gloved fingers on the exterior of the cabin and walked to one of the cabin’s four corners. He rounded the sharp edge. I followed.
Dante slowed as he neared the first window and carefully looked inside. “No visual from here,” he said, sounding disappointed. He approached the second window, once more looking inside. “This one’s no good, either. We’ll have to try from the front of the house.”
My heart lurched. I wasn’t afraid of Buck so much as getting caught lurking in the shadows. This was Fairbanks. Trespassing could get us shot no matter who the occupant.
Still, I was no sissy, and I wasn’t about to give Dante any reason to believe I was. I placed two fingers over my lips when he glanced back at me. He nodded and we crept forward.
At the next corner, Dante crouched and squat-walked his way to the front of the cabin.
Screw it. I was short, but not that short. I bent my knees and hunched along the cabin’s outer wall.
A square of light lit up the snow several feet from the front window. Dante inched along the wall until his body filled the dark shadow between the window and light it projected. He straightened ever so slowly and peered inside.
Heaven help us if Buck saw Dante’s head appear in the window. He was more likely to blow it off than bite him. We were in no man’s land. Alaska. The farther north a person went, the wilder the inhabitants. Vampires weren’t half as scary as residents of the state.
Dante stared for a long time. At least his head was still intact.
“Who’s the girl?”
I nestled in beside Dante and looked inside. Luckily, the window was to the right of the living room where Buck sat on a beat-up couch, his arm around a young woman with long blond hair, their backs to us. A hockey game played on the TV.
“That’s Buck’s girlfriend,” I said.
Dante clucked his tongue. “She could be dead by morning if we don’t do something.”
I rolled my eyes. “Buck wouldn’t hurt Nicole. He’s totally crazy about her.”
“Right, killer crazy.”
“You don’t know a thing about vampires, do you?” I asked.
“I know how to kill them.” Dante puffed up his chest.
“As though I could forget.” If only he could hear the sigh inside of me.
Flashes of light from the TV hit the walls in quick succession. “Well, now that we know what he’s up to can we please go somewhere to unthaw?” I asked.
Dante’s shoulders sagged. “I guess so.”
I didn’t mind wading through snow mounds on the way back knowing we were headed for the car and comfort.
I hopped inside the Jeep while Dante removed his headgear. As soon as he got in front his dog stood up and wagged his tail.
“Good boy, Tommy,” Dante said warmly. “Let’s go get warm.”
“Where are we staying?” I asked.
“Got a cabin in the woods. Don’t be expecting the Ritz. There isn’t any running water or electricity.”
“Of course not,” I grumbled. Ritz? Seriously? It wasn’t even a Motel 6. Cabin in the woods. “This sucks,” I said.
Dante nodded. “I know. We were right outside a vamp house and didn’t even get to kill anything. When’s Melcher going to stop dicking me around and put me on active duty?”
“Maybe when you begin acting responsibly,” I suggested.
“Responsibly,” Dante repeated as though it were the most offensive word in the English language. “This isn’t the army.”
Thank goodness. Give me Gothic wench over military green and brown any day of the week. Hell, no!
We left Duck Pond Lane and hit the main road.
“There anything to eat in this cabin?” I asked Dante.
Dante leaned back in his seat and drove one handed. “The cupboards are stocked. I hope you like Spam.”
I straightened my shoulders. “I’ll eat anything, especially if it comes out of a can.”
Dante slid three feet before stopping at a red light. A smile lurched over his lips like a kid who’d just taken his turn down the slip and slide.
Trying to memorize the street names as Dante zipped down the icy roads was futile through the thick-as-fog ice mist. It made me uneasy. I had no idea where I was. No idea where we were going. No visibility. My internal compass had been thrown off its axis.
I was entirely in Dante’s hands.
Being a passenger wasn’t really my thing.
Dante turned off the main road down a dirt one. The cabins where spaced out and hidden down narrow wooded lanes. Dante slowed as he approached an opening in the trees. His headlights lit up a road that led deeper in. At least I thought it was a road. All I could see was a white, snowy path winding through the trees.
“I’m gonna have to gun it,” Dante said.
Good thing he drove a Jeep. My car wouldn’t make it three feet through this snow.
Dante didn’t bother backing up for a running start. He slammed his foot on the gas. The Jeep gave a jolt right before we plowed into the powder. The loose seat belts in back rattled, and the shell of the ceiling creaked, but the rig managed to bulldoze its way through the white blockade.
I found myself crossing my fingers that we’d make it all the way to the cabin.
When the Jeep began to slow, Dante pumped the gas pedal. We blazed through, curved to the right, straightened out, and fishtailed around the next right, took a wide left, and headed for the small dark cabin that appeared in the Jeep’s high beams.
Dante slapped the steering wheel when he came to a stop. “Made it!” He threw his door open and jumped out, quickly opening the back door for his dog to do the same.
Dante had me hold the flashlight while he loaded the duffels, including mine, over his shoulders. Much better. Let Dante be the pack mule.
I aimed the flashlight at the front door. Dante turned the knob and pushed it open.
“You don’t lock it
?” I asked.
“Only thing that would want to break into here are the bears, and they’re hibernating,” Dante answered.
Bears were smart.
The dog followed us inside, nails clicking over the hardwood floor. Dante dumped our bags on the ground and tromped over to a small table. He unscrewed the lid off a glass jar, dumped out a box of matches, and struck one. It flamed to life dramatically, lighting his fingers in its glow. Dante lit a gas lamp hanging over the table then shook the match until the wind swallowed the flame.
The gas lamp took over. Not much else was needed to light up such a small cabin. There were no bedrooms, no bathroom, nothing to section off the dining room from the kitchen or the bed and the cot in the cabin’s two far corners. Forget the living room. No one had bothered bringing in a rocking chair, let alone a couch.
And I thought cabins were supposed to be cozy.
Dante looked around and nodded once, solemnly. “The cleaners did a good job.”
By cleaners, I wish he meant the kind of merry maids who dusted fixtures and vacuumed floors, not Melcher’s crew who mopped up blood and disposed of dead bodies.
Aurora had confided in me about Dante’s interrogation turned execution of a human boy responsible for an informant’s death. The boy had died in this cabin. No, I definitely didn’t see sipping hot chocolate by the fire inside the death shed.
Dante clapped his hands together, signaling an end to such gloomy thoughts.
“I’ll make the fire. You’re on dinner.”
At the moment, I was too relieved to be out of the snow and inside a solid structure, no matter how small or cold, to worry about sexism. Let the caveman make his fire. Fine by me. Besides, Dante had mentioned the food came in cans. He’d gotten the short end of the stick in my opinion.
I made a beeline to the cupboards, feeling a burst of joy upon finding a can of SpaghettiOs beside a stack of Spam. I stood on my tiptoes and snatched the spaghetti. It didn’t take long to locate a can opener and pan—there were only so many drawers to look through.
Using a metal spoon, I emptied the pasta into the pan, scraping every last “O” off the ribbed edges. I snatched the box of matches from the table to light the single burner then rummaged around the cupboards again while the spaghetti heated. A grin spread over my face when I found a bag of Doritos only one month past its expiration date and, the icing on the cupcake, an unopened box of Hostess cream-filled cakes.
Stakeout (Aurora Sky Page 10
