Second Sunrise

Home > Mystery > Second Sunrise > Page 12
Second Sunrise Page 12

by Aimée Thurlo


  “So, assuming he bathes and sweats regularly, we should be able to find two or more bottles of sunblock in his garbage. Sound right?” Diane had noticed the scent of the lotion on Lee and wondered how Muller covered his intense use of the products.

  “You know, more than one vampire out there may be using the excuse that he’s got a skin disorder that makes him extremely sensitive to sunlight. Could you check through the Bureau and see if any other Germans in Muller’s unit have a similar condition?”

  “Think he might have turned some of the people he worked with? Is ‘turned’ the correct term?”

  Lee shrugged. “Works for Hollywood, works for me. Vampires and skinwalkcrs are very secretive, for obvious reasons. Skinwalkers, because of their animal instincts, seem more inclined than vampires to form packs, so it’s unlikely that he’s taken the risk of involving several other people to that degree. I doubt there’s a vampire club with a secret handshake. But there’s no way for me to be sure, and family groups seem likely. I think it merits checking.”

  “I’ll have to figure out a way to do that without tipping our hand,” Diane said, “or creating problems with my supervisor. I don’t want SAC Lewis involved at all in this.”

  “Just remember that we don’t know if we’re running out of time. I checked the area where the box is buried just recently, and as far as I could tell, it hasn’t been disturbed. At least there’s been no signs of digging beyond the usual animal dens.”

  “And Muller doesn’t know exactly where you hid it either. If that’s what he’s here for, he’ll have to search blindly, probably with some kind of radiation detector,” Diane pointed out.

  “Are you sure it’s still buried, and wasn’t discovered and removed decades ago by the military or civilian authorities?” she added. “The whole state has been explored for uranium, basically, especially in the Grants area,” Diane pointed out.

  “I’ve been checking regularly over the years, not just the past few weeks. I think I’d have noticed if the area had been disturbed. Let’s just target Muller for now. If he goes out searching, we’ll know what he’s planning. If he doesn’t head out that way, he’s after something else. Whatever it is, I’m sure he’s up to no good. Either way, following him may give me a chance to deal with him alone, away from witnesses and potential victims.”

  “All right. It’s a plan.”

  Lee reached over and touched Diane’s arm, hoping to make his point very clear. “I don’t want either of us meeting up with him, except on our terms. He’s quite possibly the most dangerous man on the planet right now, especially if he’s after the makings of his own A-bomb.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Lee had traveled through Alamogordo many times while on patrol as a state police officer, and knew that there were long stretches of highway empty of adjacent man-made structures.

  Nearly the entire route northeast from St. Augustine Pass was on White Sands Missile Range land, composed of an extremely dry, high-desert basin bordered on one side by the barren Andres Mountains.

  The vast White Sands National Monument eventually appeared to their left, off to the northwest. Glistening in the moonlight, the vast dune fields made a perfect postcard of this section of New Mexico. With his sharp, clear vision, the rolling, drifting hills were easy on his eyes this time of night. But during the daytime, even with his windows up and his dark sunglasses, the glare off the sand hurt his eyes like a snowfield did in winter.

  “I’m a native New Mexican, and I’ve never been to White Sands. You believe that?” Diane said.

  “Yes. Neither have I. I’ve been hoping that some special ceremony won’t come up and I have to help provide state police security for the governor or other dignitaries. Way too much brightness for me.”

  “I see your problem. When I was growing up in Albuquerque, we preferred going into the mountains on vacation rather than even drier places. Have you been to Carlsbad Caverns?” Diane asked.

  “Yes. Definitely my kind of place. During the part of the tour when they turn off the lights and everything is totally dark, it’s interesting to watch people’s expressions. I remember seeing couples sneaking kisses.”

  “You don’t miss much, do you, Lee?”

  He shook his head. Just real companionship, he thought but couldn’t say. Diane was the first person since Annie that he didn’t have to hold back on what he said, though his thoughts still had to remain censored. But their association couldn’t last long either, and he wondered, if they both got out of this alive, what would she do with the secrets he’d shared.

  After passing the main Holloman Air Force Base facilities, also to their west, they finally arrived at the town of Alamogordo, a name that means fat cottonwood in Spanish. Most of the road was lined with old, huge trees that required careful attention during the spring winds. Cottonwoods were “self-pruning,” as many natives joked, and branches often littered the streets following storms.

  When they arrived at the crosstown housing compound where Major Wolfgang Muller and some of the other German officers were living, they were disappointed to see that instead of individual trash containers and curb pickup service that Lee had seen before, the complex had recently converted to large, centrally located bins.

  “It’s not really practical to search through these bins filled with garbage bags looking for empty sunscreen containers,” Lee said, looking over at Diane. Today, she was wearing a seedy-looking auburn wig, phony glasses, and a shapeless dress two sizes too large for her.

  “You mean I put on the bag-lady look for nothing?” Diane joked.

  “Seriously, I think we’d be wasting our time since we don’t know which of the bins Muller uses or how many other people use the same one. We’d also look really suspicious filling the back of this pickup with putrid-smelling plastic bags. I have a better idea, as long as we’re here.”

  “I hope it doesn’t include breaking and entering.” She shook her head slowly. “That’s a real career-breaker for a woman agent hoping to shatter the glass ceiling in the Bureau. “Tell me you’re thinking of something else, Lee.”

  “We try to avoid actual breaking, of course, which would definitely arouse suspicion. But I’m sure we can put our heads together and get into his apartment for a little reconnoiter. If he’s a vampire, we should find several bottles of sunscreen there. Nobody else stores it up, do they? And there might be a stash of blood in the fridge too.”

  Lee looked around the parking lot as they passed Muller’s apartment for the second time. “The coast looks clear. Let’s go find out if Muller is Gruber.”

  “This is going to be messy . . . particularly if we get caught.”

  “I can’t see any other way of verifying his identity. You don’t really think we’re going to catch him sucking blood from someone’s neck, do you?” Seeing Diane’s wary expression, he shook his head. “Just not done. It’s impractical and messy and no self-respecting vampire would feed that way. You’ve seen what I eat. It’s the same for them.”

  “If it is Gruber, once he’d dead I want you to find that plutonium, if that’s what it is, and turn it over to the authorities. Agreed?”

  “Of course. I don’t want the responsibility of knowing it’s out there, unrecovered, one second longer than it’s absolutely necessary.” Lee pulled into the parking slot farthest from a lamppost. “Let’s shed the street-person look now. We’ll have better luck passing as a young couple coming back from a movie.” He gestured to the old, oversized flannel shirt and coveralls he had over his ordinary clothes. She nodded and started pulling her baggy dress over her head.

  He couldn’t help but watch, at least out of the corner of his eye. Underneath, she had on form-fitting leggings and a dark blue sweater.

  “Do you change clothes much in a pickup?” she asked, ducking as he tossed his shirt behind the seat, nearly knocking off her wig.

  “When I was a teenager, we had to sneak everything. I couldn’t date a girl unless I took a woman family member along, usu
ally the girl’s aunt. And we went almost everywhere on foot or horseback, or caught a bus. Boy, have things changed.”

  He slipped the overall off by sitting sideways, turned away from the steering wheel, trying not to kick Diane as he untangled his legs from the large garment.

  “My father didn’t let me go anywhere in a car alone with a guy until I was seventeen. Even then, he preferred me double dating,” she said.

  “Smart father. Didn’t discourage the boys though, did it?”

  “Not completely. But I appreciate his intentions now. Not that I did at the time. We argued a lot.”

  “Some things never change, but I think tough parents are the best. Ready?”

  “No. But I’ll go anyway.”

  “Come on,” he cajoled. “Haven’t you ever wondered if vampires wear boxers or briefs?”

  She smiled, but her gaze was already taking in the area, and her mind was on the job. “There aren’t any security cameras, at least, unless Muller bought his own. Shall we make small talk in case someone sees us?”

  He climbed out of the truck and walked around, helping her out like on a real date—at least like a date in his generation. “Only if we know we’re being seen. Let’s act like we’re a dating couple, but keep it quiet. No sense in attracting attention. When we get to his door, keep a sharp eye out for anything he may have left as a trap, or to indicate that the place was entered in his absence. I do that.”

  “I noticed.”

  They walked up to the sidewalk that ran alongside the parking area, then strolled casually toward the closest building, which contained eight apartments, four of them on a second story. Muller’s, according to Lee’s information and observations, was downstairs and on the side closest to the parking lot.

  The buildings were typical of local construction, unremarkable wood frame and beige-tinted stucco, with a tile roof of composite material made to resemble red clay. The doors were recessed four feet under an overhang, creating a rudimentary porch in combination with a concrete pad.

  The porch light was off, as were the lights inside the apartment. At least they appeared to be with the drapes drawn. Lee stopped in front of the door, pretending to be fumbling for his keys while checking around the door opening. If someone was inside, he’d pretend to be drunk, thinking this apartment was his.

  “There.” He pointed to a small paper match stuck into the doorjamb about six inches down from the top, on the doorknob side.

  “How did you see that?” Diana whispered, then swore softly and added, “Never mind.”

  Lee checked around, and found a small stick that looked like a straw from a broomstick on the hinge side. “Thought there would be two. Try and remember exactly where they are. We’ll have to put them back when we leave.”

  “I don’t see any signs of an alarm system but if he has an interior zone alarm, we’re screwed,” Diane whispered. “Just don’t leave any fingerprints behind.” She handed him a pair of latex glows, then put some on herself. They were both accustomed to wearing them during crime scene investigations.

  Taking a small set of lock-picking tools, she went to work on the door lock, He positioned himself so nobody from the street could see what she was doing, and worked on the dead bolt. It was relatively easy for him, having acquired lock-picking skills many years ago from an expert.

  The dead bolt clicked open after twenty seconds. Diane lacked his experience, and she kept working.

  “You’re last,” she whispered.

  “I’ve had fifty years to practice,” he answered.

  A second later, the door lock clicked. “Okay,” she whispered, relieved.

  He grasped the match and straw from their locations as she opened the door. They entered quickly, closing the door behind them, and waited, listening.

  Lee gave the room, which bordered on total darkness, the once-over. “Don’t see any alarms. You can use your flashlight if you have one. I don’t need mine.” He set the straw and match down carefully upon a magazine stand by the door.

  She took out a small penlight, and stepped across the carpet to check a stereo system on a metal rack. “Make sure there’s no sound-activated recorder here,” she murmured after a moment.

  Lee closed the door but left it unlocked. II Muller returned, he’d probably try to unlock it, not realizing it was already open, and lock it instead. That extra click would give them a few seconds more warning that he was there.

  “I’ll check the bathroom, you take the bedroom,” Diane suggested quietly, and went down the short hall, checking inside the doorways until she found the bathroom. Lee followed her down the hall, and went into the bedroom.

  On the nightstand was a half-empty sixteen-ounce bottle of a SPF forty-five rated sunblock brand Lee used frequently. It was very effective and lightly scented. It was a kid’s product, and since there was no sign of children here, that made it even more suspicious.

  In the nightstand itself was another unopened bottle of the same brand, and it had the price sticker of a local discount superstore. He checked the closet and dresser drawers, but didn’t find anything unexpected. Going back to the bed, he lifted the mattress, and between it and the inner spring was a military-style combat knife in a nylon sheath, and a large softcover book full of maps of New Mexico. He located the pages for the Fort Wingate area, but there were no marks or notes written there, which was disappointing.

  Lee replaced the mattress, making sure the bed appeared undisturbed before he moved away. There was probably a pistol or other firearm within reach, but he didn’t really have the time or a reason to look for it. There were no family photos anywhere, which to Lee seemed perfectly natural for a vampire, where family ties were few and risky. He searched for more detailed maps of the area around where the convoy had been ambushed, trying to figure out if the vampire’s mission was really to find the missing plutonium, hut he found nothing of that sort either.

  He went into the kitchen and found Diane looking through the refrigerator, using its interior light to guide her search.

  “What is it with you people? A large jar of ‘tomato juice’ that’s really blood, I understand. But other than that, there’s nothing but high-calorie food in here. Not even margarine—like you, he uses butter.”

  “So, does that imply that those supermodels are all really vampires?” Lee whispered back, lifting up a pasta TV dinner and pointing out a pistol and clip of ammunition in a plastic freezer bag behind it.

  “It would explain a lot,” she muttered. “Damned skinny women. I should stake them all.”

  Diane closed the refrigerator door, and waited a few seconds in the dark beside him. “I lost my night vision, but really thought the refrigerator was a logical hiding place. By the way, there were at least five bottles of different brands of sunblock in the bathroom. All were rated at least forty-five on that scale they use. I think he buys only one bottle at a time to avoid gathering attention.”

  “I found two bottles in the bedroom. All that sunblock, plus the blood in the fridge, confirms he’s a vampire, all right. And it looks like he lives alone. There’s also a combat knife under his mattress that would serve as a good emergency decapitation tool,” Lee pointed out, “and a book filled with New Mexico maps. But nothing in the right area was marked.”

  Diane moved out of the kitchen area and bumped into a chair. She took her flashlight back out of her pocket, but he reached for her hand. “Don’t worry about the flashlight, it’s time we left anyway.” He led Diane by the hand back across the living room toward the door, then let go long enough to crouch down low to the floor.

  “Did you drop something?”

  “No. Just verifying that we didn’t leave any footprints in the carpet. It’s worn enough to prevent that. Can you get the door?”

  She opened the door while he retrieved the match and straw, then helped him replace both in the doorjamb as they closed it carefully.

  Lee was relocking the dead bolt when he noticed a light beam on the wall beside them, an
d realized somebody had noticed their presence. “Stay cool,” he whispered. “We’re going out for a late-night snack.”

  Lee put his arm around Diane and together they walked down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. The beam of light continued to illuminate them. He could see the man approaching, a private security guard in his early twenties in a blue uniform. The man carried a portable radio on his belt, but no weapon was visible.

  “Good evening,” Lee said good-naturedly. “I haven’t seen you around here before. I usually work evenings.”

  Diane smiled at the man, who’d stopped and was watching them approach. “That light’s so bright, I can’t see. Could you aim it at the ground, Officer?”

  “I’m with Guardian Security,” the young man replied. “Do you live in that apartment? I thought it belonged to a German Air Force pilot. A tall, blond guy.”

  “It does. His name is Wolfgang Muller. I’m a friend of his. My name is Orlando. He gave me his key so I could come and bring in his mail when he was away on a training exercise.”

  “That’s all right then,” he said, glancing over to make sure the door hadn’t been forced.

  “Good night,” Diane said as they walked away.

  They walked to Lee’s pickup, and were soon heading southwest again toward Las Cruces. Neither spoke for a while, then finally Diane broke the silence. “Do you think the security guard will tell Muller about us? He’s likely to suspect it was you if the guard says you were Navajo.”

  “Some people get Native Americans and Hispanics confused, and I used a name he’d associate with Hispanics, so that probably will stay in his mind. I think he’ll keep quiet, at least to Muller. Though he may mention you to some of the other guards, especially in that hot-looking outfit and fiery wig. You look like someone who might be available,” Lee replied.

 

‹ Prev