by Jon F. Merz
I needed help.
I fished my iPhone out of my pocket and punched in Dave Larazo’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“Homicide, Larazo.”
“I love it when you talk dirty.”
He paused. “Jesus, Lawson…what the hell are you doing? I heard you were away for a while. You back?”
Cultivating human assets came along with my job. While vampires had infiltrated pretty much every level of society, it still helped to be able to call on humans from time-to-time, especially beat cops like Larazo who had an ear to the ground and could get their hands on intel that we sometimes could not. Larazo thought I was a spook and I was happy to let him keep on thinking that. It kept his questions to a minimum because anything I didn’t share he just considered classified and never gave me any grief about it. Plus, we’d gone through some shit in the past and that had helped bond us even further.
“Yeah, I’m back. Listen, I need a favor.”
Larazo chuckled in my ear. “Knock me over with a feather, why doncha? You asking for a favor…will wonders never cease?”
“Well, if you’re going to get all pissy about it.”
Larazo kept laughing. “Nah, it’s cool. I just like giving you shit. What do you need?”
“Security camera footage from a bodega in the South End.”
“Uh, yeah, pal, that ain’t exactly my jurisdiction. You want something like that in Brookline, it’s no prob. But you’re in Boston.”
“I know where I am,” I said. “But I also know you’ve got a lot of friends with BPD. And I’m pretty sure one of them could prevail upon the shopkeeper to share that footage with me.”
“Cripes.” Larazo paused and I could hear the gears cranking in his head. “Yeah…yeah, all right. I got someone I can trust with this. Where are you?”
I gave him the address and he jotted it down. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Stay put.”
“Thanks.”
The phone went dead in my hand and I wandered over toward the bodega. I didn’t want Larazo developing any sort of unnatural interest in the hotel. If he started digging around, it could end badly for him. I liked him, but if he ever got wind that vampires actually existed, I’d have to make him disappear and I didn’t want to do that.
Twenty minutes passed and before too long, I saw a tan Ford pull up into a loading space nearby. Larazo’s toothy grin broke across his face as he exited the car and gave me a quick hug.
“Good to see you dude.”
“You too, man. You too.”
Larazo stepped back and nodded at the guy next to him who I assumed was a Boston cop. “This is Letourneau. Buddy of mine from back at the academy.”
Letourneau stood about six inches taller than Larazo and had a good head of hair for a dude in his forties. The overcoat he wore was tailored and showed that he must have worked out a fair bit. He pumped my hand a few times and the grip was solid. I liked him immediately.
“Good to meet you.”
Letourneau nodded at the bodega. “Dave tells me you need to see some security camera footage?”
“Yeah. It’s more of a hunch than anything else, but it might show the alley over there.”
Letourneau looked at the alley. “What’s so special about that?”
Larazo nudged him. “Don’t go asking too many questions. Most of what Lawson does is strictly off-the-books at the behest of our esteemed government.”
Letourneau frowned. “You know you guys aren’t even supposed to be functioning domestically, right? National Security Act of 1947? That ring any bells? It laid out the parameters for intelligence gathering and near as I can recall, you guys are an external agency.”
I looked at Larazo. “Since when did you start associating with intelligent people?”
“My New Year’s resolution,” said Larazo. “I’m told that the people I spend time around will help elevate me to the next level.”
I smirked. “Good luck with that.” I eyed Letourneau. “Things changed after 9/11. I’m sure you know that. These days, everything’s a muddled mess and we do the best we can with what we have.”
“How come you just don’t get a search warrant from one of your pencil pushers and do it that way?”
“Because I’d rather finesse this a bit more gently,” I said. “If I go barging in there flashing paperwork and badges, the poor shop owner’s gonna have a coronary and I’d rather not have that on my conscience. This way, you go in, sweet talk a little and everything happens without any sort of hassle. It’s better for everyone involved.”
“Yeah, all right, that makes sense.” Letourneau looked at Larazo. “You owe me a case of Malbec for this.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Larazo nudged him and then looked at me. “You see this shit? I’m putting out for this little favor of yours.”
“And I’ll remember it,” I said. “I’ve thrown you a bone in the past.”
“Better throw in some greenbacks, too,” said Larazo. “This is gonna cost me.”
We crossed the street toward the bodega and Letourneau fished his badge out of his pocket. “Let me go first on this and handle it my way, all right? I don’t want you guys fucking this thing up before I have a chance to set the mood.”
“Fine by me,” said Larazo.
“No problems here,” I said.
Letourneau looked at each one of us in turn and then grunted. “All right, let’s do it. I need to be back at the station soon. My wife is bringing me lunch from her restaurant and I don’t want to miss it.”
Then he yanked the door to the bodega open and strode inside already holding his badge up. I glanced at Larazo who only grinned and then we followed Letourneau inside the small convenience store.
4
Letourneau flashed his badge as we entered and immediately started speaking fluent Spanish to the store owner, who blanched visibly at the sight of what he assumed were three police officers crashing into his peaceful place of business.
“We need to see your security camera footage from last night,” said Letourneau. He glanced at me. “Which cameras?”
I pointed to the one that would have had a clear shot of the alley exit. I was hoping to at least see what sort of car the woman had driven. It was a slim chance, to be sure, but at least it would have been a starting point. As of right now, I had nothing to go on and that was no way to stop a killer.
“That one,” said Letourneau pointing. “And hurry up, we haven’t got all day.”
A person in a calm state of mind might have stopped us right then and there and insisted on seeing a search warrant, but the element of surprise along with a natural fear of authority figures tends to produce the necessary results when needed. I hate operating this way when it was clear the store owner had done nothing wrong, but neither did I have the luxury of going through the proper channels. Sometimes, you have to skate through a moral gray zone in order to achieve success, and I was comfortable doing that when the job required it.
The shop owner told his son to watch the store as he led us into the back of the bodega where a bank of screens awaited. I smiled to myself as the obvious scale of his technology became apparent; he had a better set-up than Templeton did. He sat down in the chair and quickly pulled up the footage from last night on the camera that we had requested.
“What times?”
“Start around ten o’clock,” I said.
He nodded and played back the footage. At first, there was little to see. Foot traffic was light and sporadic. Traffic was consistent but without volume. I was starting to think that maybe I’d missed something when a large Lincoln Towncar came into frame and then reversed into the alley. After a moment, the engine switched off, the headlights died, and the door opened.
I leaned closer, trying to get a clearer look at the driver.
But all I saw was that damned hat again. She wore it low to cover up her face, immediately turned away from the camera and then walked away from the alley, presumably toward the front of the hot
el on the other side of the block to meet up with Amalfi.
“Any chance you can zoom in on this thing?”
The shop owner nodded and pressed down on a key. Instantly the frame shifted and I could read the license plate on the car. I memorized it and then then asked him to zoom in on the woman. The zoom only confirmed that it was the same person judging by the body characteristics.
But I wasn’t going to get anything else aside from a license plate. It was better than nothing, but not by much.
The shop owner rolled the footage forward until I saw the woman emerge from the emergency exit and pop the trunk. That effectively blocked us from seeing anything else, and then ten minutes later, the trunk slammed shut, she got into the car with the hat still pulled low, and drove off.
“All right,” I said leaning back. “We’re good.”
Letourneau patted the man on his shoulder. “Thank you very much for your cooperation, my friend.”
The shop owner nodded his head enthusiastically. “No problem, no problem.”
We waked outside and Letourneau stopped me. “You want to tell me what it is you’re looking for exactly?”
“Not particularly,” I said.
“Do I need to remind you that you’re on my turf? You know, along the lines of, ‘if anything happens here then you ought to be speaking with me?’”
“Right now, there’s nothing to get concerned about. Let’s just say I’m very interested in meeting the woman who was driving that car last night.”
“She’s smart,” said Letourneau.
“What makes you say that?”
He sniffed. “The hat. Even if she didn’t know if she was being filmed from across the street, she assumed she was. She had the presence of mind not to let herself be seen. That says something. A lot actually.”
“Yeah?”
Letourneau nodded. “Yup, you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said with a laugh.
“Well, Larazo says you’re the real deal, so I don’t think you’ll have too much of a problem. Then again, you never know. It’s the ones you think are a milk run that turn out to be the worst.”
I held out my hand. “I appreciate the help on this. If you ever need a favor and I can help, get in touch with Dave here. He knows how to find me.”
“The hell,” said Larazo. “You’re the one who always contacts me.”
“Bat signal,” I said. “Just flash that up in the sky and I’ll come calling.”
Letourneau chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that with the mayor. He’s got nothing better to do than invest a few million into that.” He shook my hand. “Best of luck on your chase. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Larazo clapped me on the back. “Later, dude. Don’t forget the tab you’re ringing up with me. Letourneau’s a serious oenophile and he aims to collect on that case of Malbec.”
“I won’t. I’ll have a case shipped over to the station.”
“What are you doing now?”
“What I usually do when I can’t figure shit out: go lift some heavy ass weight.”
Larazo grunted. “And beat on a heavy bag.”
“That, too. Be seeing you.”
“Later.” Larazo walked back to the Ford with Letourneau and they drove away, leaving me on the sidewalk by my lonesome.
The February air was cold and I looked around the scene one last time. I didn’t think there was much more to be gained from hanging out in the neighborhood, so I found my way back to my car and drove away.
The barbell looked like a package of Skittles. With the red fifty-five pounders, blue forty-fives, yellow thirty-fives, and green twenty-fives, I had three hundred and sixty-five pounds on the bar.
Not a bad warm-up.
Due to the enhanced strength I had as a vampire, I had to choose a CrossFit box owned by my kind. That wasn’t exactly an easy thing to find, but fortunately, given the very nature of CrossFit itself and its proclivity for garage and warehouse gym locations, it eventually came to pass that a vampire opened one. We used the same principle, just amped up so as to produce a kick-ass workout for my species.
The 365 came up easily enough and I banged out a quick ten reps, feeling the weight on my hamstrings and enjoying the repetitive motion that had been ingrained in me for some time now. Ten reps done, I put the bar back down and slapped another hundred pounds on the bar. I started building toward my working sets, feeling good enough that I want to attempt a one-rep max.
The box was fairly empty given the time of day, but later this afternoon, it would fill up as folks trickled in from their day jobs. I liked the relative peace and quiet of the place right now. Yeah, some hardcore rap blasted out of the speakers, but the few people in the place gave it a more solemn, serious attitude and I appreciated that. The last place I’d gone to had been populated by a whole flock of cackling hens who had nothing better to do than gossip about everything and everyone instead of actually pushing themselves. The place had gone completely toxic and getting a good workout was impossible.
This new place, though, it was good.
With six hundred pounds on the bar, things started getting heavy. I banged out five reps, and then got a swig of water and wiped my brow.
“Lifting the rainbow today?”
I turned. The woman standing there looked about forty-five in human years and stood maybe five feet four inches. She had blonde hair and blue eyes that looked as cold as frozen steel. Something about the grin she wore made it seem more like she doubted I’d be able to pull the weight.
“Looks like it, doesn’t it?” I grabbed two more fifty-five plates and slapped them on. “Nothing like a good lifting session to set the mind right.”
“How much can you actually lift?”
I shrugged. “Last time I checked it was seven hundred pounds.”
“Good thing Spencer keeps the extra long barbells in, huh?”
I nodded. “Necessary, given what we can handle.”
She appraised the bar. “Seven-ten? That’d be a PR.”
“Yeah. I’m feeling pretty good.” I chalked up and then waited for the song to switch over to NWA’s Straight Outa Compton. I started nodding along to the beat and forgot all about the woman. Lifting to hardcore rap has a way of getting me pumped up. I learned it a long time ago from my old friend Kenneth Richardson who swore by it.
Ice Cube’s lyrics cut through me and I felt my heart pumping hard. I took a breath, approached the bar, and stomped my feet down, setting them so the knurling on the bar split my shins. I lowered my butt, keeping my shins vertical, and let my hands find their mixed grip on the bar. I’m a righty, but I like keeping my left hand palm up for some reason. It just works.
I rolled the bar into my shins, tensed my entire body up and took a big breath and then held it. I drove my feet into the ground and thought about lifting with my shoulder and hips at the same time. Sometimes, I had the tendency to let my ass take the lead, but I’d been working on pulling more uniformly recently and it was paying off.
The bar came off the ground, staying close to my shins. I kept going up, up, up until it passed my knee and then I locked out with the bar at my hips as I exhaled smoothly. I dropped the bar and felt the whoop come out of me without thinking about it first.
Anyone who tells you that lifting weights is silly hasn’t felt the primal satisfaction of setting a new personal record. And there’s nothing like being able to drop some heavy ass weight after you lift it. It’s empowering on an amazing scale.
The barbell bounced as it hit the floor, rolled a few inches and then stopped. Chalk dust settled around it as I clapped my hands.
“Congratulations!”
I turned and the woman was still standing there. I smiled. “Thanks.” I picked up my towel and mopped my brow again, followed by taking a strong swig of water. “I think that will do for today.”
“I’m Lilith,” said the woman holding out her hand.
&nbs
p; I shook her hand. “Lawson.”
“I know who you are.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”
She shrugged. “I’ve asked around about you. No one seems to know that much, though. You turn up for a while and then you disappear for weeks.”
“My job keeps me busy,” I said. “How long have you been coming here?”
“Only a year or so. I like the people.”
“And the workouts?”
She grinned. “I wish I didn’t have to, to be honest. But I guess we all have to stay in shape, right? Otherwise we start looking pretty awful.”
I smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You look pretty good to me.”
Lilith grinned. “What are you up to right now? Feel like grabbing a cup of coffee at the diner across the street?”
5
“Can’t,” I said. “I need to get a protein smoothie into me and then get back to work.”
“Another time, then,” said Lilith. “Bye.” She turned and walked away. I watched her leave and smiled. She’d been wearing a wedding band, so maybe I’d misread her. It wouldn’t be the first time. I’m pretty good at reading folks, but sometimes I’m thick as cement when it comes to figuring out if a woman is flirting with me or not. That’s probably one reason why I connected so well with Talya. She didn’t waste time on bullshit flirtations; she knew what she wanted and made it apparent from the start. I respected her confidence and her refusal to play stupid high school games. A strong, confident woman is always more attractive than an insecure, hesitant one.
I made a simple smoothie in the gym’s kitchen and sucked it down. I tipped a bit of juice into the mix for that extra kick in my ass and then stepped into the shower. Twenty minutes later, I was back in my car calling Niles.
“You find anything out yet?”
I wheeled back into the traffic slipstream. “Checked a few cameras at the hotel and at a shop across the street. All I got from them is the fact that we are definitely dealing with a woman - or at least someone dressed as a woman. And she’s crafty.”
