Blood Game ed-9

by Iris Johansen

  He didn’t answer. His hand was gently stroking her hair, and he was still staring into the darkness.

  Thinking, she realized. Trying to solve the puzzle. Trying to make everything come out right . . .

  As he had tried to make everything all right for her all those years ago when she had been spiraling downward into a depression from which there probably would have been no return.

  But there had been a return, and it had started that night over a year after she had lost Bonnie. She had gone to bed, and Joe had called her on her cell phone.

  “I’m fine, Joe. It’s just a little cold.”

  “A little cold that’s lasted over a month,” Joe said grimly. “Not surprising since you’ve practically stopped eating. You must have lost ten pounds in the last couple weeks.”

  “You’re exaggerating. Maybe a few pounds.” She wished he’d just hang up. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep. She knew Joe meant well, but he kept at her all the time. To eat, to get more rest, to stop the constant frantic work, any work, that filled her days and kept her sane.

  “If you’re not better tomorrow, I’m taking you to a doctor.”

  “No, it’s just a cold, Joe.” She paused. “Any news?”

  “Do you think I wouldn’t have told you right away? No news. We haven’t found her.”

  Yes, she shouldn’t have asked the question. She knew it hurt Joe to have her do it. Yet she had to ask it every time. The question dominated every moment of her life since Bonnie had been taken over a year ago. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I think she’s alive and you’ll find her and bring her back to me. I’ve accepted that my Bonnie is dead.” But it still hurt to put that acceptance into words, and she had to stop for a minute. “It’s just that every night I’d put her to bed, tuck her in, and kiss her good night. It hurts me to think of her thrown away somewhere, out there all alone.”

  “We’ll find her, Eve.”

  “I know you will . . . someday. I want to go to sleep now, Joe. I’m very tired.”

  He muttered a curse. “I’ll be over at ten to pick you up and take you to the doctor.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Thank you for everything, Joe. Good night.” She hung up.

  She set her phone on the bedside table and turned out the light.

  Go to sleep. There was no pain when she just let go and let the darkness carry her away. She was beginning to welcome, embrace, that darkness.

  “But you can’t have it, Mama. You have to come back.”

  Bonnie’s voice, Eve realized hazily. She was feverish. It couldn’t be Bonnie. Bonnie was lost . . .

  “I’m not lost. I’m here with you. I’ll always be with you, Mama. Open your eyes and look at me.”

  Eve slowly opened her eyes. Bonnie was sitting on the window seat with one leg tucked beneath her. She was wearing the Bugs Bunny T-shirt and jeans in which Eve had last seen her. “See?” Her smile lit her small face. “I’m here. Why are you so sad? We’re still together.”

  “No, you’re—” She couldn’t say the word. Not when this Bonnie was so glowingly alive. “You’re a dream.”

  “Am I? I don’t feel like a dream. But maybe you’re right. Does it matter?”

  “No.” Not as long as she could see her smile, hear her voice. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Mama. But we’re together now. You should have known we’d be together. It just took a little while.” She leaned back against the alcove wall. “But Joe is scared you’re going to get really sick. You’ll have to get better so that he doesn’t worry so much.”

  “I know. But sometimes it doesn’t seem to matter.”

  “It matters to me. Everything you do matters to me.” She smiled. “So I know that you’ll do everything you can to get well and strong. Just like you used to tell me, Mama.” She chuckled. “Eat your vegetables. Wear your sweater. Don’t jump into puddles.”

  Eve found herself smiling. “I promise I won’t jump into any puddles. And you didn’t pay attention to me as much as you should have, young lady.”

  “But I always knew that everything you did was to keep me happy. You always wanted me to be happy.”

  “I still want that, baby.”

  “Then stop looking so sad. You’ve got to be happy too.” She tilted her head. “I don’t want to talk about vegetables and puddles. Would you like to sing a song with me?”

  “I’d like that very much. ‘All the Pretty Little Horses’?”

  “No, that’s not my favorite now. I like the one about wishing on a star. It’s happier. It’s all about dreams coming true. Do you remember the words?”

  “Yes, I remember every song we’ve ever sung together, Bonnie.”

  “Your voice sounds kind of funny. Maybe I should start.”

  “Maybe you should.” She leaned back, her gaze fixed on her little girl, on her Bonnie.

  It was a dream, but let it go on.

  Let Bonnie not go away.

  Bonnie’s voice came softly from the darkness. “When you wish upon a star . . .”

  EVE DIDN’T KNOW AT WHAT point she drifted into a deep sleep that night. When she woke the next morning, she expected to return to that same profound depression.

  It didn’t happen. She felt a strange serenity and optimism that came as a complete surprise.

  And what she thought were dreams of Bonnie became part of her life. They didn’t come every night, but frequently enough so that she never lost that feeling that on some level Bonnie was still with her.

  And with that knowledge she had begun to function, to slowly come alive again.

  Came alive and turned to forensic sculpting, a work that filled her life, and to Joe, who became the reason to live, to go on.

  She moved closer to him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Can’t you sleep?”

  He was still trying to fix her problems, heal her. “I’m fine.” She kissed him on the chin and put her head back on his shoulder. “Nothing is wrong, Joe.”

  Dahlonega, Georgia

  THE TEENAGE GIRL’S BLOOD was worse than useless, Jelak thought in frustration as he got into the Mazda that was parked in front of the brick office with the small sign on the door: R. J. BAKER, M.D. Nicole Spelling’s blood had fed him but not given him anything more to replace the precious and quality blood he had lost. She had been too young, too shallow.

  Oh, well. She had proved useful. He’d forced her to drive him to this small burg outside Atlanta to find a doctor who could take care of his wound. He’d been careful to choose an M.D. with a practice on the edge of town, and all had gone well.

  It was about time. Joe Quinn had ruined all his plans for a quick finale to his glorious quest. He had put him on the run and forced him to take that inadequate Nicole Spelling just to survive.

  Suppress the anger and hatred. He’d get his own back. What do you care about, Joe Quinn? What can I take from you that will punish you enough?

  The answer was clear, and every bit of the blood in his body was pounding in response to it as he drove away from the office and headed back to Atlanta.

  “A BP GAS STATION WAS ROBBED and Calvin Hodges, the attendant, murdered,” Schindler said as he came into the squad room the next morning. “It was on Hawthorne Street, a few miles from where we located Jelak’s car last night.” He paused. “There was a CLOSED sign on the door, and they didn’t discover the body until this morning, when Hodges’s wife drove out to check on him. The attendant was killed with a knife thrust to the heart. But there was blood on the floor near the door. It’s probably not Hodges’s.”

  “Any vehicles missing?”

  “No, the attendant’s car was still parked in the back,” he added grimly. “But the last credit card to be entered into the gas pumps was for a Nicole Spelling.”

  “So?”

  “Her parents reported her missing last night.”

  “Shit.”

  “Age sixteen, just got her
license, driving a red Mazda her parents gave her for her birthday,” Schindler said. “They said that she had a date to celebrate with her boyfriend. She’d bought a new dress and was very excited. That’s why they were so worried when she hadn’t come home on time.”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Yeah, sucks doesn’t it?” Schindler said. “We’ve put out an APB on her and the car, but nothing yet.”

  And there probably wouldn’t be anything good, Joe thought. Another Nancy Jo.

  No, Nicole Spelling was even younger, almost a child.

  His phone rang. Caleb.

  “No, we haven’t caught him,” he said when he picked up. “But he’s been busy. We have a dead gas-station attendant and a missing sixteen-year-old girl.”

  “It’s logical. He’d want to replace the lost blood.”

  “I’m not in the mood for logic right now.”

  “I can understand that. So I’ll go right to what’s important. He’s going to be angry and frustrated. There’s no telling what Jelak will do. Expect anything.”

  “I always do.” He paused. “Particularly from you.”

  “That’s very intelligent of you. I hate to be predictable. But remember that I’m a very good ally. You may need allies soon.” He paused. “What about enlisting a little help from your friend in a better place? It worked before.”

  “It was difficult. She told me not to ask her again.”

  “But you may anyway. Isn’t that right?”

  A teenager celebrating her sixteenth birthday. “Yes.”

  “And so you should. Priorities, Quinn. Call me when you find out something.”

  Priorities.

  His job was keeping people alive. Keeping Eve alive.

  Any way he could.

  And now he had to bite the bullet and call Eve and tell her about Nicole Spelling.

  THIRTEEN

  “BUT YOU’RE NOT SURE,” EVE said. “She could still be alive.”

  “It’s not looking good, Eve.” Joe was silent a moment. “Damn, I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “No, I had to know,” she said numbly. “You always try to shelter me. Let me know when you find out for sure.” She hung up.

  Nicole Spelling. Sixteen years old. All her life before her.

  Stop thinking about her. Go on with her own work.

  She turned back to the reconstruction. It was almost finished. She could see the curve of the little boy’s lips and the plumpness of his cheeks. “We’ll find your home,” she said softly. “We’re almost there, Matt.”

  But that young girl would probably never go home again. What horror had she gone through? Her cell phone rang and she tensed. Joe again to tell her they’d found Nicole Spelling?

  No, not Joe. She didn’t recognize the ID.

  “Hello, Eve.” She didn’t recognize his voice either. Thick, deep, a slight Southern accent. “This is very unusual for me. But I felt I had to allow myself the pleasure. I deserve it since that son of a bitch that you’re screwing has put himself between us.”

  She stiffened. “Who is this?”

  “Your master, your partner. Gift to Gift, Eve.”

  “Jelak?” she whispered.

  “I haven’t heard your voice in a long time. Perhaps five years ago when you gave that TV interview on 20/20. You were magnificent. All the qualities that I look for in a kill. But there are so few women who can bring those to me. I knew that you’d be the final piece that would assure that I’d win the game. But I wasn’t near enough to the end then to come and take you. But I kept my eye on you.”

  “While you were murdering all those other women.” She added, “And children. You murdered children, didn’t you?”

  “And that does bother you. Actually, very few. Children are only good to feed, and I had a host to furnish me with that.”

  “Henry Kistle.”

  “Yes. I followed him when he left Atlanta. I knew what he was and how he took his pleasure. There were so few individuals who I knew would be able to help me with the blood. Even then, I was aware of the hunger though I didn’t know what it meant. When I came back from Fiero, I knew my destiny and my place in it.” He added scornfully, “The fool didn’t even realize I was shadowing him, taking my fill. He’d do the kill, and I’d follow and take the blood. It went on for years. I might have had to reveal myself at some point, but then you came back into his life. Competition. I couldn’t allow him to kill you. I was saving you for the final ritual. If you hadn’t killed him, I would have had to do it. It would have been a pity. After all, I did owe him a debt for all those years of saving me from making those boring kills.”

  “You’re a monster.”

  He chuckled. “They’ve been calling us monsters for centuries. At the same time they worship our power.”

  “Vampires? You actually think you’re a vampire?”

  “Not what those fools call vampire. They have no idea. But you’ll know soon. You’ll feel the beat of our hearts, the flow of the blood. Gift to Gift, Eve.”

  Dear God, she could feel it now.

  Imagination.

  “You’re mad.”

  “That’s not nice.” He was silent, then said softly, “You didn’t ask me if I’d fed on your Bonnie after Henry Kistle killed her.”

  She felt as if he’d stabbed her. “He didn’t kill her. I know he didn’t kill her. We didn’t find the body.”

  “But you’re not quite sure, are you? As I said, I wasn’t entirely certain of my destiny back then, but I knew Henry and the blood always fascinated me. You probably know that by now.”

  “Yes,” she said hoarsely.

  “Pretty Bonnie. I didn’t realize then that children were almost useless to win the game.”

  “You’re just saying it to hurt me.”

  “I do want to hurt you. I wanted the ritual to be quick and triumphant, but Joe Quinn changed all that. I’m very angry, Eve.”

  “It didn’t happen. Not to Bonnie.”

  “You’ll know soon. You’ll feel her, join with her. Gift to Gift.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “I’ve upset you? But then you shouldn’t have been ugly to me. I’ll always win, Eve.”

  “Why are you calling me?”

  “I needed you. He shot me. He took my blood. I was afraid I’d lost too much. But now I feel strong again.”

  “Did you kill Nicole Spelling?”

  “But of course. But she was almost useless. Like a child.” He paused. “Like Bonnie. I’ll see you soon, Eve.”

  He hung up.

  Her hands clenched the edge of the table until the knuckles turned white.

  She felt dizzy with pain.

  Bonnie.

  The ugliness of the picture Jelak had drawn was beyond belief. A child being fed on by that monster.

  Her baby.

  Oh, God, the tears were running down her cheeks.

  It was a lie. He’d only wanted to hurt her. It had to be a lie.

  “Eve?” Caleb was standing in the doorway. “You didn’t answer my knock. I saw the squad car was still here, and I was worried that you—What the hell is wrong?” He was across the room in four strides. “You look sick.”

  “I feel sick.” She wiped her damp cheeks with the back of her hands. “Jelak.”

  “What about him?” He took his handkerchief and gently wiped her eyes. “Other than that the bastard might have killed two other people. Though that’s enough.”

  “There’s no might about it. He killed the gas-station attendant. He killed Nicole Spelling.” She drew a shaky breath. “Though she was useless to him. Like a child.” Her voice broke. “Like Bonnie.”

  He stiffened. “You’ve seen him? Talked to him?”

  “He called me.” Lord, she had to pull herself together. “He wanted to hurt me.”

  “I should have expected it.” He took her hand and led her toward the couch. “Sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  She wasn’t about to argue. She dropped down on the
couch. “Why should you have expected it?”

  “He would be furious at Joe Quinn for what happened. He’d want to strike out and hurt him. He knows he can hurt him by hurting you.” He handed her a glass of water. “And it appears he succeeded.”

  “Bonnie.” She took a swallow of water. “He told me she was one of the—” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t even think it. “It wasn’t true. I knew when he was saying it that it was flimsy—but he—it could be true. I don’t know.”

  “And that’s what he’s counting on.” He knelt in front of her and was carefully wiping her face with a cool, wet cloth. “You don’t know. What you don’t know can twist and cut and hurt you.”

  “You don’t have to do this.” She reached up and took the cloth from him. “You’re being very kind, but I’m okay now. I’m sorry I was being so childish.”

  “I’m not.” He sat back on his heels. “I’m sorry he hurt you before I managed to kill the bastard.” His eyes met her own. “And in the most painful way possible. You’re trying to block it out, but it will come back when you least expect it. When you’re working, before you go to sleep . . . I don’t think we should let him have that victory. Do you?”

  She tried to smile. “No, I won’t let him do that to me. It will take a little while, but I’ll—”

  “I don’t want it to take a little while. It would worry me. I don’t like to be worried.” He took both her hands. “Listen, Eve, it didn’t happen. Jelak never knew your Bonnie. He never touched her. You know that. In your heart, you’re absolutely certain.”

  As she met his eyes, she felt a tremendous surge of relief. Of course she knew that. She just hadn’t been able to see beyond that load of agony that had been heaped upon her. It was so clear now. “He never touched her.”

  “And if he ever tells you that again, you’ll realize immediately that it’s a lie.” He smiled. “He can’t hurt you. Not with Bonnie.”

  She nodded, then suddenly stiffened. “Are you doing something that—I’m not Patty’s grandfather.”

  “Not in the least. I’m not changing anything about the way you think or even your perception. I just did a little reinforcement. When you’re raw, you need a little bandage to make you stop thinking about the wound.”