by Jon F. Merz
If she’d been crying, I saw no evidence of it. She only nodded for me to follow her. “We can talk in the conservatory.”
I cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. Maybe Amalfi had his house set up like the game of Clue. Who was I to criticize?
We walked into the room and I saw the grand piano and a cello set up. Framed sheets of music hung on the walls and a fireplace in white centered the room with wing chairs on either side of it. A small table sat in the middle.
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?”
I shook my head. “I’ll try to keep this as short as possible. First, let me extend my condolences to you. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
She sighed. “I’ve spent hours trying to figure out if I should be heartbroken or grateful.”
“Excuse me?”
She sniffed. “On the one hand, I’m not even remotely surprised that he was cheating on me. Again.”
“It happened before?”
“Oh sure. He’s had several lovers over the years. I think it came with the job, quite frankly. There were always late nights. Research, he used to call it. It wasn’t much of a secret.” She looked at me. “You must think me a fool.”
“It’s not my place to judge you, Mrs. Amalfi.”
“Samantha, please.” She smiled. “You’re too kind. But I was never a fool. I knew what went on. And I was, believe it or not, okay with it. Richie brought home a lot of money and despite his infidelity, he cared for his family a tremendous amount. He loved his children and he loved me, but there was just something about him that needed more than I could give him. So he turned to seeing other women on the side.”
She paused and leaned back in the chair. “It’s what happens, I suppose, more often than not in the suburbs, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course, women - and by women, I mean the wives out here - they’re the worst. We’re all pampered bitches who judge each other viciously. We’re hypocritical as hell, living for the pain of those who go through hard times. We have so little in our own lives that we gleefully devour drama and keep regurgitating it only to eat it up again.”
“You’re painting quite the picture.”
“But it’s the truth,” she said. “I’ll be judged by women for being a fool when they themselves take a lover in the afternoon. They’ll do the very things they hate so much in other women and never ever see the hypocrisy of it because they’re deluded and stupid.”
I needed to steer this away from a diatribe on suburban living. “Do you know when Richie started seeing this latest woman?”
“No. But probably within the last few months.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He got a new phone.”
I frowned. “And that was unusual?”
She nodded. “Our contract wasn’t up yet, but he said he wanted a new one. I assumed it was to communicate with whoever he was seeing. And Richie never liked hearing from any of his old flings after he was done with them. Once it was over, it was over. He moved on. So the new phone was sort of his way of saying to the old ones, you can’t contact me again.”
“Do you have that phone?”
Samantha shook her head. “No. I was told Richie’s belongings would be returned at some point once the investigation was concluded. I don’t know when I’ll get them back.”
Why hadn’t Niles mentioned the phone to me. I’d have to ask. “What about the number? You have that?”
Samantha nodded. “I’ll write it down for you.” She went and got a piece of paper and a pen.
“Is there anything else you think I should know about your husband?”
Samantha looked at me as she handed me the slip of paper. “Despite his flaws, he was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die.” She reached over and touched my hand. “Are you going to find the person who did this to him?”
“I am.”
She nodded. “Then be sure to send them straight to hell for me, will you?”
7
“We didn’t find a phone on him,” said Niles.
I was sitting in the public lot off of route 16 in Wellesley. I had a nice bag of takeout from Lemon Thai on the seat next to me and all I wanted to do was get home and dig into it. “She probably took it. Like she took everything else that we might use to find her.”
“You were the one that said she was good.”
“Yeah. But that doesn’t help me in the slightest. What about Cousins?”
“Again, that was a Boston Police matter. If there was a phone, they sure as shit didn’t hand it over to us. Why would they? Cousins was just another human in their eyes.”
“I’ll make a call,” I said. Letourneau would know, and even though I hated calling him, I needed to see if there was any chance the phone existed. “Later.”
I got Letourneau’s voice mail but he called me back within twenty minutes. “This is becoming a habit. Three times in one day? People might get suspicious.”
“You’re not my type,” I said. “You have testicles.”
“Very true. Much to my wife’s relief.”
“Got a question for you.”
“I figured you would.”
“Back in December, you guys worked a case - Derek Cousins. Name ring any bells?”
“Of course it does. It’s still open. No witnesses, and nothing much on the security camera footage. Divorced, father of two, and one of the brotherhood. Needless to say, we don’t like knowing the killer is still out there. Feels like we let the guy down.”
“You guys recover a phone at the crime scene?”
“Negative. It was a bloodbath, first of all. But the interesting thing was that we found pretty much nothing in terms of DNA. Cousins body had been wiped down with bleach. Any chance of bodily fluids was gone. When I tell you the trail is cold, it’s fucking frigid.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Letourneau paused. “This have anything to do with the favor I did for you this morning?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Lawson…”
I frowned. There was no way I was going to get much of any help in the future unless I gave him something to gnaw on. Quid pro quo. “All right. I can’t get into it, but there’s a chance the person I’m after might - just might - be the same killer you’re after.”
“How sure are you?”
“Frankly? I’m not. I’m grasping at anything right now. I didn’t have much to go on at the start of this thing, like you, so I’m fumbling about right now. I thought the phone might have given us something to chase down, but at this point, it’s a lost cause.”
“You’ll keep me posted if you find something, though, right?”
“As long as you do the same, yeah.”
“Good.” Letourneau hung up and I sighed.
Two phones that could have given us something - anything - and neither one of them available. I drummed my fingers along the steering wheel and then had a thought. Granted, it was a long shot, but I wasn’t exactly swimming in ideas right now.
I punched a number into my phone and wait as it rang at the other end. “Yeah?”
The voice was as gruff as I remembered it. “Megan?”
“You called me, hotshot, so you must know who answers this end of the line.”
“You could have just said yes.”
“That’s boring. What do you want, Lawson?”
“Got a job for you, but I’m not sure it can be done.”
I heard the derisiveness in Megan’s voice all the way from outside of Bangor where she lived. “Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll tell you whether or not it can be done?”
“If I give you a phone number, can you see if there’s a backup of its contents anywhere on the Cloud or whatever they call it?”
“Like iCloud for an iPhone? It would depend on whether they ever backed it up or not and when the last time was that they did it.”
“But technically?”
“It’s kids play to cr
ack it. Probably take me an hour or two to brute force it, but yeah, it can be done.”
I steered my car back into the traffic and headed south from Wellesley. “And what sort of cash is this going to cost me?”
“Well, because it’s you and you’re such a wonderful soul, I’ll give you a freebie this time. But next time you need something, I’m going to charge you the full rate. A girl’s gotta make a living, after all.”
I read the number off to her and smiled. “Tell Belladonna I said hello, will you?”
“Yeah. Gimme a couple hours.” Megan hung up and I put my phone down to concentrate on driving.
Megan was in the process of transitioning and she was a crack hacker that the Lycan elder Belladonna had recruited to be her new apprentice. I’d met Megan a few months back when I was helping Belladonna with some very off-the-books stuff. Megan had been instrumental to our success. And now I was hoping that she could provide me with my first real intelligence nugget on this case.
If she couldn’t come up with anything, I was going to have to really start banging on doors asking if anyone had seen Amalfi or Cousins. Neither of which I wanted to do. That sort of shit never works as well as you hope and it takes a horrendous amount of time to do.
I drove down 27 South into Medfield where I kept a suburban house for the times I wasn’t in the city. I had a nice spread on nine acres with a driveway far removed from the road that no one could see up, giving me enough privacy that I didn’t need to worry about anyone checking me out. I’d been to Medfield a number of times before I purchased a home here, but I liked the town and some of the people that I’d met here. Plus, it had a great restaurant in the town center, Avenue, where I could get a fantastic meal and a stiff drink. And if I needed something to read, Park Street Books & Games, had shelves upon shelves of great stuff.
If I hadn’t been in such a mood for Thai, I would have shot over to Avenue for my dinner. But Thai was the order of the day, so I parked the car in the drive and walked into my house. I warmed up the food and then plunked down to eat and watch the news. But there wasn’t much of anything happening aside from the usual bullshit that politicians do, so I switched over to Netflix and caught up on my latest obsession. In no time, I’d wolfed down the meal and then fixed myself a Bombay Sapphire and tonic with three limes, enjoying the down time.
I’d learned a long time ago that there will be times when you can’t force anything. As much as I wanted to hunt down the woman responsible for killing two vampires, I couldn’t go running around like some crazy stressed out idiot. That wouldn’t solve a damned thing. And worrying about it wouldn’t do an ounce of good, either. Worrying has never achieved anything, aside from making you all the crazier and less likely to find any degree of success.
So fuck it.
I was going to enjoy my drink in the wake of an awesome meal. I’d watch some tube, hit the rack, and start back up fresh in the morning. Hopefully, in the meantime, Megan would find a way to crack Amalfi’s phone backup and find something I could use to track down the culprit.
And if not? Well, I’d figure something out.
On a whim, I checked my phone to see what tomorrow’s workout was at the CrossFit box I attended. Some days, I went with their programming, and other days, I did my own stuff. It depended on how much time I had. With this case taking a priority, I wasn’t even sure I could swing by when I was in town.
The picture that came up was of Lilith doing some pull-ups. I smirked. How was it I hadn’t noticed her before? She was cute enough. Certainly not a smoke show the way Talya was. But there was something about her I found attractive. Then again, maybe it was just the booze making me feel particularly generous with my assessment. In any event, it didn’t hurt to have someone nice to look at when you were working out. And I admired the way her workout pants seemed to cling to her hips and backside. Not bad at all.
Still, I was guessing that she was someone’s wife. Maybe she had some kids. It was always remarkable how utterly human some vampires could appear. I mean, aside from the fact that they needed blood to survive, there really wasn’t a whole lot of difference in how they acted or looked.
Lilith looked like she could easily pass for any suburban mom out there. Petite, blonde, the typical package. She had some lines around her eyes, but overall seemed as though she was aging well enough. Certainly she didn’t look like she was sixty when in fact she was only forty. I’d seen that before, too. Men and woman chasing the botox wizards in some vain attempt to prolong the aging process. And all that happened was they ended up looking like they’d had a stroke.
Then again, vampires tend to age pretty remarkably anyway, so Lilith could have been my age or older and it would still be difficult to pin down exactly.
The workout didn’t thrill me. It had running in it, and I desperately hate running. It also had thrusters, which are an evil combination of a front squat and a shoulder-to-overhead all done in one movement that I absolutely despise. It taxes your system silly, which is why they’re awesome for getting you in shape. That didn’t mean I had to like them, however.
I’d decide about going in the morning. For now, I needed another drink and another episode of my show. That would set me up well for a good sleep.
My phone rang and I was hoping it was going to be Megan with good news.
It was Niles.
“You asleep?”
“Would it matter if I was?”
“Not one bit,” said my Control. “I wanted to let you know that the Ferrets are working overtime on this Amalfi thing. And Cousins, for that matter.”
“Okay.”
“Basically, we’re putting their lives under a microscope in the hope that we get something out of it that you can use to find the killer. No guarantees, of course, but we’ll see what we can put together.”
“I would have thought you were already on top of that.”
“If you knew the kind of day I’ve had, you’d know why I’m only getting around to this right now.”
I hard the clink of ice in the background. “And setting yourself up with a drink.”
“I don’t think of it as alcohol; I think of it as necessary therapy. And you’re one to talk. I’ll bet you five bucks you’ve got a gin and tonic in front of you right now.”
I laughed. “How well you know me, old friend.”
“Just don’t get too wasted. I need you on this. The Council is already screaming for results. I lost count of how many times I had to tap dance around Ava today.”
“Oh Ava, my old nemesis. And how is the darling lady?”
“She’s still a complete bitch,” said Niles. “And I didn’t just say that, so never bring it up again.” He took a long sip of his drink and then sighed. “Now, that is some tasty stuff.”
“Are we drinking together over the phone? That seems utterly pathetic.”
“Agreed,” said Niles. “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Get some sleep.”
So I did.
8
When I woke up in the morning, I still didn’t have a clear idea of how I was going to track this woman down. I had two victims, no clues, and only a small chance of finding her before she struck again. And I definitely expected that she would. Whatever her purpose, my gut told me that there was a reason for why she was doing this. I just had to stop her before she left a trail of bodies across the city. I already had Letourneau sniffing around with the first victim and I didn’t want him getting anywhere near the idea that this might be the work of a serial killer, let alone a vampire serial killer.
I liked the guy. I could tell he was a hard worker, definitely destined for success, and I respected the fact that he kept himself in good shape when so many of his colleagues were no doubt already hanging up their discipline. Letourneau had a good head on his shoulders and I didn’t want to have to kill him to protect the secret existence of my race.
If it came to it, I would have to. Unless I could convince the powers that be that he would be better used as a Lo
yalist, a human who knew about vampires but had sworn to help us in exchange for money.
I smirked. The fact that we called them Loyalists when we bought their loyalty was pretty ironic to me, but I hadn’t come up with the title. Someone on the Council had, which wasn’t exactly surprising. Anything to make a pile of shit smell like a rose, I supposed.
I rolled out of bed and did some junan taiso ninjutsu stretching and warm-up exercises from my martial arts training. Just enough to get the blood flowing and work the kinks out. I’d slept like a log and could feel the stiffness of my body as I worked through the series of limbering movements. Finally, I checked my iPhone and saw I had a text message waiting to be read.
When you wake up, call me. - M
The clock said six o’clock, but I doubted Megan kept anything remotely normal when it came to sleeping and waking hours, so I punched her number in and waited. She answered on the first ring.
“What took you so long?”
“Uh, I needed to sleep and didn’t hear the text come in.”
“I thought you guys were primed for late night calls?”
I smiled. “Most of the time, yeah. I must have been more tired than usual last night.”
“Well, it took me a lot longer than I thought. Apparently someone finally upgraded their security systems so I needed to come up with a workaround, but I eventually cracked it. I have Amalfi’s backup of his phone. How do you want me to send it to you?”
“How do you normally send it? Email?”
“Depends. I can throw it all up on a private server and send you a password so you can access it there, or I can email it, although it’s a huge file so that might not be the best.”
“Option one sounds good.”
Megan cleared her throat. “That’s what I figured you’d say. I’ll email you a link. Password is your name. Cool?”
“Cool. And thanks for getting it done so quickly.”
Megan paused. “Was that an insult?”
“What? No.”
“Because it took me longer than I thought it would. So don’t fuck with me, Lawson.”
