Dead Heat

by Sharon Green

  Freemont had shot up straight in the chair, and when he turned he was giving me his complete attention.

  "You didn't get any of what happened, did you?" I said as he stared at me. "And come to think of it, didn't you say something about my not having trouble before I left?"

  "I don't know what's going on here, but I don't like it," Freemont said, his voice unsteady as his hand went to his head. "I'm not being blocked, I know I'm not, but there's still something in my way… Tell me what happened, Taz."

  "I met someone at the bar who turned out to be staying at this motel too, so we came back," I said, using one hand to rub at my side. "We had to park separately, and when I got out of the car I was knocked aside by a vampire so he could go after Eric."

  "Eric has to be the guy you met in the bar," Freemont said, the creases in his forehead showing just how hard he was trying to pick up on what I'd said. "I'm getting nothing about him, along with the same nothing on the attacker and the attack itself. It's like someone hung a curtain around everything that happened tonight, and I can't find the place where the curtain opens. I know that there is an opening, but the trick is going to be finding the damned thing."

  "Talking about finding, have you had any glimmers about that harpy?" I asked. Walking over to the nearest chair and easing myself into it wasn't what I wanted to do, but going for a bath now would probably turn out to be a bad idea. If the night manager called the police the way he said he would, someone was guaranteed to come by to ask questions as soon as I started to soak.

  "As a matter of fact I did get an impression or two about the harpy, but nothing really useful," Freemont said, his expression lightening just a little as he turned off the television and shifted his chair toward mine. "She's got a nice dark place she's made into a nest, and she's well fed and happy. She was just waking up when I got that, and as soon as she was completely awake she shut down on what I was picking up. I'll try again in the morning when she ought to be getting ready for sleep. Now that I sort of know where she is I may be able to get an actual location."

  I nodded to show I'd heard him, but understanding what he'd said was something else again. How you can know where something or someone is and still not know where they are is a point I don't have the talent to appreciate. If I'd been in Freemont's place I'd probably be foaming at the mouth with frustration, but he just took it all in stride and never lost his angelic smile. Usually.

  "I'm going to find the opening in that curtain, Taz, I give you my word that I will." Freemont was back to the subject of the vampire attack, and I'd never seen him looking so grim. "I'm not used to missing half of what goes on around me, and I don't intend to get used to it."

  "With vampires involved, I'll be happier if you wait until the morning to do your looking," I said, drawing a faintly surprised glance from him. "You know that vampire powers get stronger after dark, and if you force your way through that curtain you don't want to come face to face with the curtain-maker at his or her strongest. I don't need your ability to know that that would be a really bad idea."

  "Yes, all right, you have a point," he grumbled, running a hand through his blond curls. "I'll wait until the morning before I attack the curtain."

  It came to me that Freemont's hair was a lighter blond than Eric's and was also cut shorter, a passing thought that had no real reason for being. I didn't like suddenly remembering something about Eric, as if we'd done more than just meet and talk for a few minutes, not when I was hoping Eric and I would never run into each other again. It's not a good idea to get involved with someone you find more than just ordinarily attractive, not unless you want to end up with more involvement than you might be able to handle.

  "We're about to have visitors," Freemont said abruptly as his head came up. "Were you expecting someone to call the police?"

  "The night manager said he would," I told him, trying to decide whether to wait for a knock before getting out of the chair. If I'd been badly wounded I'd be well on the way to being healed by now, but bruises don't seem to follow the same rules.

  "Just stay where you are," Freemont said as he got up and headed for the door. "I know you're hurting, and I can let them in as easily as you can."

  More easily, as it turned out. Freemont was only one step away from the door when the knock came, showing another benefit to having his ability. He didn't have to guess about when the door would need opening, he knew. I could see the doorway from where I sat, and when Freemont opened up I could see the people outside blink in surprise.

  "It was good of you not to keep us waiting," the woman said with a lopsided smile while her partner just shook his head a little. With two uniformed officers behind them, they had to be detectives.

  "You got here awfully fast," I remarked, seeing the way they just stood there outside in the hall. "What did you do, fly?"

  "We got here just as the motel people were helping the victim inside," the woman answered. "Someone called 911 to report some kind of attack with blood involved, but they hung up without giving a name. You don't happen to know who the report could have come from, do you? Especially since the report came in before the attack actually started?"

  "If you think my partner is the only precog around, you need your files updated," I said, mostly because both of the detectives were staring at Freemont as if waiting for him to confess. Obviously they knew who we were and part of what we were capable of, not surprising when word must have spread after George and I identified the harpy kill. "Freemont got nothing about the attack, but that doesn't mean no one else did. Or don't you like the idea of putting Feds on the spot?"

  "We'll be talking to the task force members as soon as we finish speaking to you," the man said after he and his partner exchanged a glance. They knew who I meant and had admitted it without beating around the bush. "May we come inside now?"

  "For this one time, sure," I answered, deliberately phrasing the permission that way. The female detective was a vampire, and her partner was just being polite by not walking in without her. She, like most vampires, needed permission before she could come into someone's home or residence, and limiting the permission made sure she couldn't decide to come back at another time. I've never been able to completely trust vampires the way everyone else seems to. Maybe it's the fact that I sometimes have to hunt them.

  "I'm Detective Seaton and my partner is Detective Webster," the male said as they walked inside. "I've been asked to tell you that the doctor will take a look at you as soon as we're done getting your statement."

  Seaton showed nothing in the way of an expression as he headed for the couch opposite my chair, but his partner Webster was smiling very faintly. She now knew I'd spotted her as a vampire, and probably even knew how I'd spotted her. She, like most "public" vampires, was using the makeup developed especially for them, makeup that let them look alive instead of dead. The makeup had a distinctive odor, one that wasn't any harder to pick up on with her than it had been with Grail, but if I'd been human I probably wouldn't have known what she was.

  Both detectives were moderately tall with dark hair and eyes, and their conservative suits were neat enough that the two probably hadn't been on duty long. Or hadn't had to run around chasing perps. Seaton looked like he was just past the preppy stage of eager alertness, his face closed instead of young and open. Webster was downright beautiful, but she acted as if she didn't know it or didn't care. She walked and sat the way a human would, and her very neutral smile showed nothing of fangs.

  "We've already spoken to Mr. Wellman," Webster said as soon as she was seated. She made no effort to take notes, but her partner opened a small notebook. "Mr. Wellman told us that the attack was too sudden and disconcerting for him to have gotten a good look at the attacker. Was it the same for you, Ms. Bell?"

  "Not completely," I answered, trying not to show that I'd almost asked who "Mr. Wellman" was. Admitting that I hadn't even tried to find out Eric's last name would have been providing a little too much information. "The attacker show
ed fangs and hissed before knocking me into a wall, but I got a good enough look at his face just before then that I might be able to pick him out of a mug book. And I got his scent, of course, but that will help only if you can track him down."

  "Did you get any impression of his age?" Webster asked after exchanging a glance with her partner. It looked like they'd expected me to be as blind and deaf as most witnesses who don't want to "get involved." "Is there a chance he was newly turned and had simply lost control of himself?"

  "No, he wasn't … newly turned," I said, not quite able to use the politically correct phrase as smoothly as Webster had. "He had more physical strength than any new vamp could possibly develop, but he didn't seem to have any power at all. Or at least he made no effort to use it. If he had power and didn't use it, I'd love to know why."

  "So would we, Ms. Bell," Webster agreed dryly. "Mr. Wellman has no idea why he would be attacked by a vampire and suggested that the attack might have been random. Do you agree with that?"

  "Of course I do," I said, not quite laughing in her face. "Don't all random attackers reject the first, easier victim and go on to the harder kill? I should have thought of that as a reason myself, or maybe I'm just being sexist by assuming that Mr. Wellman is stronger than I am."

  "Once you're on the job you never get it out of your blood, do you?" Seaton asked, his smile matching Webster's as he looked up from his notebook. "I'm guessing you haven't known Mr. Wellman all that long."

  "He and I met at Morgan's less than two hours ago," I said, answering their smiles with one of my own. "We discovered we were staying at the same motel, so we came back here pretty much together. I got to park close to the front door, and I almost went inside instead of waiting for him."

  "According to Mr. Wellman, if you hadn't waited he would probably be dead right now," Webster said. "He told us you stabbed his attacker with something no more than half a minute before the attacker would have reached his throat. Were you carrying a knife of some kind, Ms. Bell?"

  "I don't usually go armed unless I'm hunting something dangerous, Detective," I said, admiring her smooth way of inserting the question. "When I was getting back to my feet I accidentally broke off a piece of a bush, so I used that on the vamp instead of my bare hands. I have to say it worked better than my bare hands would have. If the vamp had held still for one more instant I would have gotten his heart."

  "But he heard you coming and managed to spoil your aim," Webster said, her nod thoughtful. "You're right, that doesn't sound like one of the newly turned. Will you be able to come by the station tomorrow to look through our mug books? I'd ask you to go back with us tonight, but I think you're in too much pain right now."

  Since I hadn't moved around much in the chair, her guess was based on observation. She seemed to be a pretty good detective even if she did have trouble calling the attacker a vampire.

  "Yes, tomorrow would be a much better idea," I agreed with something of a smile. "What I need right now is a soak in some hot water and a good night's sleep, and then I ought to be just fine. I'd appreciate it if you'd tell the doctor not to bother coming by. If it turns out I need him I'll call down to the desk."

  "We'll be glad to do that, Ms. Bell," Seaton said. He closed his notebook and he and his partner both stood up. "We appreciate the help you gave, but we still need to know how long you'll be in town. If we get lucky we might find the attacker in a day or two, but that won't help much if you're already gone."

  "I'm here working on those murders, remember, so unless a miracle happens I probably won't be leaving anytime soon," I told him. "If that miracle does happen, I'll make sure to get in touch before I leave."

  "Somehow I knew you would, Ms. Bell," Webster said, her expression odd. "Thank you and good night."

  Seaton nodded his goodbye, and they both left through the door Freemont held open for them. Freemont had taken a chair during the questioning, but when it came time for the detectives to leave he was already back by the door. Yes, at times his was definitely a useful talent.

  "Her feelings about you are mixed," Freemont reported once the door was firmly closed and he'd come back to his chair. "Her partner admires you, but she knows you don't like vampires so she's trying to dislike you in return. She's definitely trying to dislike you, but so far she hasn't made it."

  "Maybe she'll have better luck tomorrow," I said, back to thinking about getting out of the chair. "Any chance they'll have more questions tonight, or is it safe for me to head for the bathroom?"

  "There's one more visitor coming, so you might as well stay where you are," Freemont said, his smile crooked. "And no, it isn't Grail or Jaril. Those two will be busy talking to the police for the next few minutes. I have a feeling they're going to claim they don't know anything about that 911 call, but if it wasn't one of their people then I can't imagine who it could be."

  "I have a better question," I said, shifting just a little in the chair. "If it was one of them or their people who made the call, why did they make it at all? Why weren't they down there personally to take care of the attack the way they were back at the last motel? Do they worry more about limos than people?"

  "Good point," Freemont said. "Maybe they went down personally last time because their human front woman, Adele Henderson, was in the limo. Or maybe they thought that a single attacker wasn't enough to worry about. Don't forget you did manage to chase the attacker off without their help."

  "Or maybe they knew it wasn't the fish they're trying to hook who was the main target," I suggested. "Why put yourself out for a passing stranger when it's so much easier to just call the police and then go back to your card game or whatever. If I had to bet on a guess, that's the one I'd put my money behind."

  "Then you'd lose," Freemont said, his frown back as he shook his head. "I won't claim I can see the truth on this one, but I can feel that what you just said isn't true. I know you don't like Grail and Jaril, Taz, but you can't decide they're working from the worst of motives without screwing up your thinking. You don't really want to do that, do you?"

  Freemont's tone was almost plaintive, urging me to agree with him instead of telling me I had to agree. It was true that my opinion of Jaril and Grail came from the way I felt about them, but that didn't have to mean the opinion was wrong. Freemont's talent demanded that he be as fair as possible about everyone and everything he came across to avoid bias, but I didn't have Freemont's talent so I was free to be as biased as I liked. But I wasn't in the mood for an argument, so I just didn't say that out loud.

  "And here comes our last visitor of the evening," Freemont said, getting up again to go to the door. He'd changed subjects so fast I knew that he didn't want an argument either, which was fine with me. I started to ask who the visitor was, but suddenly I didn't need to ask. The footsteps out in the hall weren't really limping, they were just on the hesitant side because the man doing the walking was in pain. When the knock came I almost asked Freemont not to open the door, but then the door was open and Eric stood right outside looking at me.

  "I hope I'm not intruding, Taz," he said, those very light gray eyes glancing at Freemont before his gaze came back to me. "I just wanted to make sure you're all right. Has the doctor checked you over yet?"

  "You don't need a doctor for bruising, Eric, and that's all that's wrong with me," I said, hating that he looked even better in the light. "This is Freemont, one of my partners, and if I end up needing help after all he'll see that I get it."

  "Then I'm glad you're not alone," he said after nodding to Freemont, some of the intensity gone from his stare. "I'm not in any shape to barge in and insist on keeping you company, especially if you decide to disagree. I'll just take a raincheck on our getting acquainted until tomorrow. Pleasant dreams."

  And then he was gone, giving me no chance to say that I'd changed my mind. Freemont simply closed the door, and when he looked at me he was almost solemn.

  "I suppose you could have done better, but you might want to keep that one until you
do find better," he said, a twinkle hiding behind the solemn look. "And if you try to tell me you've changed your mind about him, I'll probably go instantly insane and do my best to kill you. With my bare hands, even."

  "Your reverting to a Brooklyn accent is definitely scary, Freemont, but you're overlooking something," I said. It was hard not to laugh at the threat, but Freemont was half serious and I'd never do that to someone I cared about. "Don't you remember what he said to the police, that he thought the attack against him was random? Saying something like that just about guarantees that he knows exactly why he was attacked but has decided not to share. Do you still consider him all that attractive?"

  "Why don't I fill the tub for you to save you the trouble?" Freemont answered, his face set into a smile that had nothing in the way of amusement behind it. "And since I'll be sleeping by the time you're out of the tub, I'll say good night right now."

  And with that he headed for the bathroom, leaving me to stand up slowly and stretch carefully before I went to my bedroom. Freemont was disappointed that reality had to intrude on fantasy, but at least he had no trouble figuring out how he felt. I felt exactly as much relief as disappointment, which meant I had no idea which way to go in the feelings department.

  Maybe tomorrow I'd flip a coin.

  Chapter Nine

  When I came out of my room the next morning George was back, he and Freemont sitting and talking. I might have wondered what they were talking about if George hadn't looked so agitated.

  "Taz, are you all right?" he demanded from the couch he sat on as soon as he saw me. "Damn it, I should have been here!"

  "Calm down, George," I said as I walked toward the coffee Freemont had thoughtfully ordered. "Even if you'd been here you wouldn't have been with me, so what difference does it make? You're back now, and as soon as Freemont and I have breakfast I'm going to look at some mug books. Don't you want to come along?"