Turned (Zander Vargar Vampire Detective, Book #1)

by Kennedy, J. Robert

  “Okay, thanks, I’ll get back to you.”

  “I think he likes you.”

  I swung toward Zander. “I hope your comm is off!”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s off. But is yours?”

  I double-checked. “Yes.”

  “I think he’s crushing on you bad.”

  I blushed. “Don’t try to talk young. You get it all wrong.”

  “It’s monkey.”

  “Arrgh!” I turned back to the computer for no particular reason than to hide my face from Zander. I was hurt. I didn’t want Rick liking me. I wanted Zander. But Zander was out of reach. So then why was I wasting my time on him. Here was a perfectly nice guy who liked me, and knew the secret, which would make things so much easier.

  Yoikes! Stop getting ahead of yourself! I backpedaled my thoughts, the house and the white-picket fence evaporating back into the ether from which it had been pried. Maybe dinner and a movie first. See if you even like each other?

  I decided I was going to ask him out after this was all over.

  If we were alive.

  But do I tell Zander?

  “Ha. Definitely not.”

  “Definitely not what?”

  Damn! I hated it when the conversations in my head turned aloud.

  “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

  “About what?”

  “Nothing. Just school.”

  “Uh huh.” He didn’t sound convinced. I stole a glance and saw him looking at me in the rearview mirror. I quickly looked away. My chest ached, my stomach had butterflies. I felt horrible. I felt like I was cheating on Zander, just by thinking of going out with Rick.

  Ugh. Maybe I’m not ready for this. I had been on dates before, had some boyfriends, but they never knew Zander, and Zander never knew them. Besides, they were mostly high school, which was nothing, and only a couple at college. I was too busy studying to get involved with some boy who would try to monopolize my time just to get in my pants.

  And if any bastard tried that before I was ready, I’d stake him.

  I smiled to myself.

  Then frowned. None of them could measure up to Zander. I just preferred his company. His laugh. His smile. His stories.

  Aaaahhh! I tried to drown out the thoughts with a head scream.

  It didn’t work.

  “Almost there.”

  That helped.

  Focus on your work. I started activating equipment.

  “You guys still there?”

  It was Rick.

  I flushed a little, but kept looking at my monitors rather than let Zander see.

  “Yes,” replied Zander.

  “Okay, about six months ago we’ve got records of massive shipments of chain link, metal framing, and pulley systems. Does any of that make sense?”

  I looked at Zander who was nodding. “It might make perfect sense.” He cranked the wheel, pulling the vehicle up to the curb. “There’s one person who would know for sure, though.”

  “Who?” Both Rick and I asked.

  “Clayton McKinly.”

  “Yeah, but how are we going to find him?”

  “Well, he was sent out here under a false identity, and he left a note saying he’s starting a new life. We can assume, since Graves helped him, that he left as part of the inner circle.”

  “So?”

  Rick didn’t get it, but I did. “You mean, the new life was to be turned as part of this event, and he came out early.”

  “Exactly. He’s one of the money men. Maybe he was sent out ahead of time just to make sure everything was ready for the big night.”

  “But why hide his identity?”

  “Because he didn’t want to be traced to Detroit. They probably knew the SEC was closing in, and had to come up with a Plan B.”

  It made sense. “But how do we find him?”

  Zander smiled. “Rick, you’ve got that list of people the phone call went out to?”

  “Yup.”

  “Can you eliminate anybody whose phone number has been active longer than two weeks?”

  “Why two weeks?”

  “Because that’s the timeframe we have Graves putting the stuff in the locker, which included a phone.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  We both sat in silence waiting for Rick.

  “Wow.”

  It was Rick.

  “What?”

  “Okay, there’s only six numbers on this list that have been activated in the past two weeks, and of those, only one was purchased in New York City. It’s a throwaway, and it’s pinging off a cell tower right here in Detroit.”

  I felt a surge of excitement. “That’s gotta be him!”

  Zander nodded. “Can you pinpoint an exact location?”

  “Negative. But there’s a no-tell motel there by the looks of it. My money’s on that.”

  “Okay, give us the address and we’ll head on over.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  “Man, I bet you this place rents by the hour.”

  Sydney nodded. “I feel dirty just looking at it.”

  “Try not to touch anything, you might catch something.”

  “Want me to get the gloves?”

  I laughed. “Not yet, the proprietor might be insulted.”

  I opened the door and Sydney grabbed me by the arm. “What’s your plan?”

  “Huh?” I stopped. “I’m going to go in there, ask him if he’s seen this man”—I held up the picture we had printed off of Clayton McKinly—“and find out which room he’s in.”

  “And you expect him to tell you?”

  “For fifty bucks he will.”

  “He might. Or he might tell you to eff off.”

  I closed my eyes. “Okay, what’s your idea?”

  “Follow my lead.”

  I opened my eyes and watched as she reached into her purse, pulling out a couple of hair ties, changing her long brown hair from being tied in the back, to pigtails. She popped a couple of pieces of gum in her mouth, then put on an extra layer of thick, red lipstick. Jumping out, she unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of her shirt, adjusted her God given talents, and strutted toward the brightly lit office.

  I shook my head and followed, unable to take my eyes off her.

  There was no doubting she was a woman.

  She reached the door and stood there, twirling her purse on her finger, chomping on her gum. I rushed up and opened the door for her.

  “Thanks, doll.”

  She sashayed up to the counter, and leaned over, giving the old bastard a good view. “Hiya.”

  He leaned back, a smile spreading across his face.

  “Would you like a room?” he asked.

  “Nope. I’m meetin’ a date here. Met ’im online”—she snapped her fingers at me and I handed her the photo—“but I forgot the room number.” She giggled. “I’m terrible with numbers.” She leaned in further. “But great at other things. So”—she reached over and stroked a finger down his chest—“do you think you could tell me what room he’s in? I might just make it worth your while later.”

  “Twelve!” he gasped. “He’s in room twelve!”

  She jumped back from the counter and winked. “Thanks, doll, you’ve been a big help!”

  The sashay repeated itself, with me holding the door. We turned the corner, walking toward room twelve. I looked back. “Okay, we’re out of sight.”

  “Ugh. Thank God!” She pulled the hair ties out and redid her hair into the traditional ponytail she used when we were on assignment, wiped the lipstick off with a Kleenex from her purse, and spit her gum into it. She pulled out a small Purell and squirted some on her hands, furiously rubbing the sanitizer into her skin. She sighed. “That’s better.”

  I pointed to her shirt with my eyes.

  She looked down and blushed, buttoning up. She looked at me. “Enjoy the show?”

  Now it was my turn to blush.

  She smiled.

  I was busted.

  We stopp
ed in front of room 12.

  “Do we knock?”

  I looked at her. “I wouldn’t.” Reaching forward, I grabbed the knob. It was locked. I simply twisted, and pushed. The flimsy lock and door frame shattered, and the door swung open.

  Much to the surprise of the room’s lone occupant, one Clayton McKinly.

  He was sitting on the bed, local Detroit news playing on the television, and an all-news radio station on the clock radio. He stretched for a gun that was sitting on the nightstand when I stepped forward, my own gun drawn.

  “Uh ah. We’ll have none of that now.”

  He stopped, raising his hands.

  “You guys cops?”

  Sydney, her own weapon drawn, smiled. “Do we look like cops?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno. With the way things are on TV, I could see it.” He paused, looking at his bed full of weapons and what looked like explosives. “If you’re not cops, why are you here?”

  I flicked my gun at him. “Get up.” I pointed at a chair in the corner. “Sit there, away from all this firepower.”

  He complied. I grabbed a chair for Sydney, then one for myself, positioning us in front of him. “Your wife hired us to find you.”

  “Janice! Is she okay?”

  “She’s worried about you.”

  His eyes dropped for a moment, then when he looked back at us, they were filled with tears.

  “Why don’t you tell us the whole story, from the beginning.”

  He shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Yes we would,” said Sydney.

  This time the headshake was more emphatic. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “What, for believing there are vampires roaming the streets?”

  His eyes shot wide open. “Are you two—”

  Sydney jerked her thumb at me. “Just him. I’m human like you.”

  “Oh my God. Thank God. I mean, wait, I don’t know what I mean. I mean, I don’t know what to say.” Then he froze and looked at me. “You’re not here to, you know, eat me.”

  “I’m not a zombie. I just suck your blood.”

  He turned pale.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not hungry right now. And people who spill their guts when I ask them questions usually walk away alive.”

  He gulped, then his mouth started flapping. “It started a year ago. Graves asked me to do a large trade, it didn’t sound right, but I did it since I trusted him. Then he came to me and said I had done the wrong trade, and we were screwed if the client found out. There was no way to undo it, so I told him to just come clean, and we’d make up the losses. It would hurt, but we screwed up. It was only a few million, so we could just take it out of our bonuses.”

  “Must be nice.”

  I gave Sydney a look to keep quiet.

  “Yeah, well, we’ve worked hard for over a decade to build that business, and we deserve our success. Nobody gave us a handout or a hand up. We built that thing from the ground up, and became one of the best through hard work and talent. Nobody is going to make me feel ashamed for being successful. That’s socialist dogma.”

  “I think we’re getting a bit off track,” I said. “How about we get back to this bad trade.”

  He glared at Sydney for a moment, then looked back at me. “Well, the client apparently didn’t take it well and demanded a meeting. That’s when I met him for the first time.”

  “Lazarus?”

  He nodded. “Lazarus. The most evil, terrifying man I have ever met. He threatened to bring the entire firm down unless we did what he asked. I refused, but Graves seemed all too willing to agree. But without both of us agreeing, there was little he could do. That’s when I got the envelope.”

  “Envelope?”

  “Showing me pictures of my wife with—” His voice cracked.

  “With another man.”

  He nodded. “How—”

  “She told us.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes. She told us about the night out with two of her friends. Two recent friends, who initiated the evening’s activities, and who I am quite certain were vampires under the employ of Lazarus.”

  Clayton’s jaw dropped.

  “Furthermore, I think she was drugged. She said she didn’t feel herself and seemed almost under someone else’s control.”

  “You mean—”

  “She didn’t cheat on you intentionally, she was a victim of Lazarus, just as much as you were.”

  He breathed a huge sigh. “Thank God.” He smiled. “I just couldn’t see her doing it. I’m not the most romantic guy, or the best looking, or even the most fun, but we always seemed happy.”

  “Okay, so you got the photos. Then what.”

  “In the envelope was an address. I was supposed to meet him there to discuss his terms. I showed up there with every intention of telling him to shove his terms up his ass, but when I arrived he wasn’t alone. He had a man with him, and before I could say anything, two more seized me from behind, and held me while Lazarus grabbed the one he was with, and sunk his teeth into the man’s neck. He drained him of blood, before my eyes.” Clayton dropped his head between his knees and gasped for breath as he relived the memory.

  I reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, you’re safe here.”

  He looked up at me. “Are you sure?”

  I leaned back in my chair and chuckled. “Yes.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”

  I bowed slightly. “Please continue.”

  “He tossed this guy’s body aside, and asked me if I knew what he was. I said no, and he told me he was a vampire, and that if I didn’t do exactly what he asked me to, he’d do the same to my wife and kids as that man. From that day on, every Tuesday and Thursday nights I helped launder money, pushing transactions through Hong Kong, Beijing, anywhere I could at those hours. I also found properties in Detroit, buying up dozens over the months. I knew something big was brewing, and I’d catch snippets of things, references to something called Project Legion.”

  Sydney and I exchanged excited glances.

  “I decided to confront Graves on it, telling him I wanted in on it, not knowing what it was at the time. When he explained it to me, I knew I had to stop it, but didn’t know how. So I played along, pretending to be the good little errand boy. But in reality I began to gather intel. I kept records of every transaction, every transfer, every purchase, then I sent it all to the SEC. They opened an investigation, and it was agreed that I would be the target, to allay any suspicions of me being the informant. Of course I didn’t mention any of the vampire stuff, I was just hoping to kill off Lazarus’ funding.

  “Once word got out I was under investigation, it was easy to go to Graves, who now thought I had bought into Project Legion, and convince him that I needed to go into hiding. He got Lazarus to provide us with a fake identity, pre-positioned everything I would need at the train station, then I left, leaving the note to try and stop my wife from looking for me.” He looked back and forth between us. “Guess that didn’t work.”

  “She hired us before your car was found.”

  “Christ, you’d think parking in short-term parking would have tipped them off.”

  “It did, and it knocked NYPD off your scent. What happened next?”

  “Well, I arrived in Detroit, and rather than go to the pre-approved meeting place, I came here. I started checking out all the places I had purchased for him over the past year, and finally found where their meeting would be taking place.”

  I felt a surge of excitement shove through my veins. “You have the address?”

  He nodded. “That’s what all that’s for,” he said, pointing at the bed with his chin.

  “You planned on blowing it up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where’d you get the explosives?”

  “I had made a purchase through one of Lazarus’ contacts, and seeing what it was, made my own side purchase and had it waiting here f
or me.”

  “So your plan is to go and blow up the building?” asked Sydney.

  He nodded.

  “With three thousand innocent people in it?”

  He spit on the carpet. “Innocent my ass. These people want to become vampires. They don’t deserve to live.”

  I got up from my chair and went over to the bed. A piece of paper had a map of a section of the city with a block circled and an address scrawled across the top. “Is this it?”

  He nodded.

  It matched our own best-guess address.

  “Okay, Syd, tie him up, good and tight.”

  McKinly’s jaw dropped. “Hey, what gives?”

  “You want to get out of this?”

  “Of course.”

  “Alive?”

  “Of course!”

  “Then do what I say. You’re wanted by the Feds. Let them collect you, since they know what side you’re on. Let the experts deal with the vampires; you go back to your wife.”

  He acquiesced, and Sydney taped him to the chair with a role of his own duct tape. I grabbed a duffel bag and began loading all the weapons and explosives inside. Sydney stood up and turned.

  “Ready?”

  “Just one more thing.”

  I grabbed the phone, and dialed 9-1-1.

  “Hello, Operator, I’d like to report the location of a federal fugitive.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  “Okay, we’re almost there. Going dark.” He flicked a switch on the dash and all the lights were killed, including head lights, tail lights, brake lights, signal lights, and interior lights, except those in the back. I pulled a thick curtain to separate the two of us, and felt another turn, then the van rolled to a stop. I heard Zander get out of the front seat.

  “Ready?”

  I flicked the switch to darken the rear. “Set.”

  He pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the back. Replacing the curtain, I flicked the switch to surveillance mode, and the monitors came back on, with only dim lighting, strategically aimed at areas to allow us to see keyboards and to take down notes.

  “There was a tour bus out front, unloading people when we pulled up.”

  I adjusted the cameras to get a good view, and found the bus. Another had just pulled up behind it.