“Lochlan, what are you still doing up?” I asked?
He glanced toward me, his face an unreadable mask. I knew instantly that something was bothering him, but the cause of his distress eluded me. I would have liked to ask what was wrong, but instinct told me he’d not want to have that discussion—even if he were willing to talk about it—in front of Race.
Only a second or two had passed while I had these thoughts, as the mask was replaced by his usual grin almost as soon as I’d noticed it. “Why Juliette, surely you’ve heard the expression ‘I couldn’t sleep’ a time or two in your young life.”
I raised my eyebrow at him and he chuckled. “Truthfully, my dear, I had trouble falling to sleep—and believe me, I find it very strange to say. My mind is rather occupied with far too much to settle down.”
He glanced over my shoulder at Race, then looked back at me with his own eyebrows raised. “Going somewhere?”
I took a breath. “Yes, actually,” I said. “Race and I are going home.”
Lochlan frowned, then his face lit up with an expression of hope. “Home? As in home home?”
I nodded and offered him a smile. “Yeah. Race needs a vacation and I need to stop running away.”
“I thought you were just taking a sabbatical?”
I scoffed as I remembered that conversation outside the bus station. “Yeah, well, I thought so too.”
The vampire studied me for a moment in silence, then said, “I would be most pleased to escort you, Juliette, unless Mr. Covington has his own vehicle.”
“I do, actually, but it’s in the shop,” Race spoke up. “Some part had to be ordered from California, so it’ll be another three or four days before they can finish fixing it. A ride home would be very much appreciated.”
“But we have a couple things to do first, if you don’t mind,” I added. “After checking out, I need to stop in at my job and unfortunately quit on them after only a week. And Race needs to go to his place for some things.”
Lochlan nodded. “Alright then. Best get to it, shan’t we?”
***
At Cool Beans I was happy to find that Karen was working. When Race and I walked inside holding hands, there were stares and whistles from the staff, causing me to blush furiously and Race to grin. Karen quickly hushed everyone and guided us into the office to talk.
“I’m glad you’re here, I’ve got some news for you,” she said as she sat in the chair behind the desk.
“I’ve got something to tell you too, but you go first,” I replied, taking the single visitor’s chair across from her as Race moved to stand behind me.
“You might actually like this a lot,” she began. “Apparently, corporate recently did a market research study in your hometown, and based on the results have decided to open a franchise there.”
My eyes opened wide. “Really? That’s wonderful—I know Cool Beans would be really popular. Definitely a good call on corporate’s part. I’ve no doubt they’ll do good business.”
I cleared my throat then, regretting that I was about to tell something of a lie to her, when she’d been nothing but nice to me. “Speaking of home, I… Well, I really hate to do this given I’ve only worked here a week, but I’m gonna have to quit. I’m sorry not to give proper notice, but there’s a family thing that’s come up, and I really can’t say when I’ll be back, or even if I’ll get to come back. I’m really sorry, Karen.”
Karen smiled. “You said that already. And it’s okay, Jules, I understand family obligations. I’d say I’m sorry to see you go, but since I’m actually headed that way myself, maybe I’ll get to see you around town.”
My brows drew together. “You are?”
“Yeah. Part of the reason I know all about the franchise is because they picked me to run it. I’m actually heading out that way tomorrow to scout locations. Well, they already have a few in mind, but they’re actually asking my opinion, so hey, they’re gonna get it. Wait—if your family can spare you for a while tomorrow or the day after, maybe you could join me?”
Surprise had my brows jumping up again. “Really? I don’t exactly know that much about this business.”
“No, but you know the town. You know a lot of the people in it,” Race put in. “And you said yourself that Cool Beans would do good business there.”
“I know that based on how popular they are here, hon,” I said in reply. “But that’s just an opinion, really. I could be wrong.”
Karen grinned. “Not according to the market research.”
I shrugged. “Okay then. I’ll see what I can do. But how will I contact you?”
She reached for the pastel-colored Post-it pad on the desk and peeled one off, then grabbed a pen from a Cool Beans mug and scribbled down a phone number. Handing me the purple paper, she said, “That’s my cell number. Give me a call and we’ll set something up. Even if you don’t help me with my scouting mission, maybe we could go to lunch, or you can show me around. After all, if I’m going to be moving there, I should know where all the important places are.”
Race and I both laughed. “My hometown really isn’t a very big city, and it’s surrounded by farmland on three sides and the lake district, as the locals call it, on the other.”
“But obviously there’s enough people living there to warrant calling it a city,” Karen replied. “And according to the market research, which includes the latest census data, the population grows every year. Besides, even if the movie theater only has one screen, there’s always Columbus, right? Or Springfield? Dayton’s not that far a drive, either, nor is Dublin.”
I had to laugh. “Are you sure you’ve never been there? You sound like the natives.”
Karen shook her head as she smiled. “I just read the report.”
Sighing, I pushed to my feet. “Tell Mr. Gibson I’m sorry to quit on him like this.”
She nodded. “I’ll let him know. And I’m sure once he hears you had a family issue to deal with, he’ll understand too. You be careful driving home, okay?”
I nodded as well. “We will. And thanks, Karen. I’ll see you.”
“See you ‘round, Jules,” she replied with a wave, and then Race and I headed out.
***
As Lochlan pulled into Race’s apartment complex sometime later, we noted that there were a lot of people standing outside. Some of them were walking toward the back of the complex, where Race’s building was. When we got back into his loop, we saw what the commotion was about—there were three or four police cruisers parked haphazardly in the parking lot, and about as many dark sedans that could only belong to detectives. A uniformed officer was waving us off to the side and Lochlan slowed to a stop and rolled his window down.
“What’s the trouble, Officer?” the vampire asked politely.
“One of the apartments had a break-in, sir. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to come back later.”
“Wait, I live here,” Race said, leaning toward the driver’s side to look out the window at the cop. “Which apartment was broken into?”
“Can I see your identification, sir?” the cop asked.
Race fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out his driver’s license, handing it over to Lochlan, who handed it through the window. Upon looking at it, the officer was unable to keep his expression from telling us just whose apartment it was that had been broken into.
“Those fuckers!” Race shouted at the same time the cop said, “I think you should come with me, Mr. Covington.”
Race slammed his fist down on the dashboard, then threw his door open. I followed immediately from the back, jogging to catch up and leaving Lochlan to park his car on his own. The murderous glare in Race’s eyes, which had darkened from his usual green-gold to dark brown, made me hesitate to reach for his hand, and so I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked with him and the police officer toward the building Race lived in.
The crowd of neighborhood gawkers hushed when they saw him, then began whispering behind his back immediat
ely as we passed. I felt the urge to turn back and glare at them, but that would have been juvenile. Besides, my attention was better served to keep an eye on Race, who would need a reminder to stay calm when he saw what had been done to his apartment.
The three of us walked up the stairs and around the landing down to apartment E, and I noticed right off that the first thing the intruders had done was to kick the door in. The jam where the knob and deadbolt fit in was splintered, and the door was hanging from only two of its three hinges. Stepping over the threshold behind Race, I couldn’t help but gasp at the damage that had been done. The T.V. was smashed, the couch shredded—stuffing from the cushions was everywhere. The kitchen table’s round glass top had been shattered, leaving shards of broken glass all over the dining nook. What few knickknacks, books, and other mementos he’d had on his shelves were strewn about in various degrees of destruction. In the kitchen, from where I stood just inside the doorway, I saw what had to be all the glass dishes in a pile of broken ceramic in the middle of the floor, surrounded by spilt and spoiling food. Without even going further inside, I could guess that the bedroom and the bathroom had suffered the same fate.
Whoever had done this to Race had done a thorough job of it.
Beside me, my mate was literally vibrating with outrage. Tentatively I reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping it would bring him some small measure of comfort, as a detective in a gray blazer approached us. The cop who’d escorted us handed Race’s I.D. to him.
“This is the apartment’s resident, Detective,” he said, then turned and left.
The detective studied Race’s license for a moment then handed it back to him. “Mr. Covington, I’m Detective Owens, Robbery-Homicide division.”
“Before you even ask, man, I can’t tell you who did this,” Race said shortly, though his tone told me that he knew exactly who was responsible. I had a pretty good idea I knew who he was thinking of.
Owens had pulled out a pen and a notepad and flipped the latter open, jotting down some words. “You don’t have any idea who would break into your apartment and destroy everything you own? You get into any disagreements lately? Have any enemies to speak of?”
Race looked at him, his expression hard. “Pissing off at least one person per day is my mission in life, which I’m fairly successful at given my tally is typically five or more,” he said snarkily.
“Sarcasm isn’t going to help us catch who did this, Mr. Covington.”
“Perhaps not, Detective, but it helps me feel better,” Race snapped. “And like I said, I can’t tell you who did this. If I knew, I’d be at risk for going to prison for felonious assault, ‘cause believe me, I’d be hunting the motherfucker down and giving him the beating of his life.”
Owens looked around us. “Seems to me you might have pissed off the wrong person—it’s an awfully bold move to destroy a man’s home in the middle of the day. Your refusal to cooperate means that they could very well get away with it, if we don’t find any useful evidence. It would be in your best interests and would certainly make my job a lot easier if you’d talk to me. Let’s start with what you do for a living.”
I watched Race scowl. “I do odd jobs for Vienna Silk. Or used to. I quit a week ago.”
The detective’s eyebrows winged up, then he looked down and scribbled more notes. “Vienna Silk, you say? And just what sort of ‘odd jobs’ do you do for one of Cleveland’s wealthiest citizens?”
“Did,” Race corrected him. “And since you’re familiar with Ms. Silk, you know I did whatever she damn well told me to do.”
“How did she take it when you quit?”
“She wasn’t pleased, but she couldn’t very well force me to keep working for her,” Race replied.
I looked away from the two men to keep my expression from giving my thoughts away. If Vienna Silk was who—or rather, what—I thought she was, then she very well could have forced Race to do her bidding for as long as he amused her. Given his run-in with Merrick yesterday, and now the trashing of his apartment, I had the sinking feeling that breaking her influence over him would be a lot harder than either of us had anticipated.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noted Det. Owens glancing my way, and I looked back at him as he turned his attention to Race and asked, “Did you ever sleep with Ms. Silk?”
Race’s expression darkened further. “Whether I did or not is of no concern to you, Detective.”
Owens glanced at me again. “On the contrary, Mr. Covington. Vienna Silk is a very beautiful woman, and she has exhibited a certain taste for men—at least in public. Could be your affair with her angered someone who disliked the fact that she was screwing the pool boy.”
Now I was getting angry, and I decided the time for silence was over. Fisting my hands on my hips, I glared at the detective and said, “Hey, I know you have a job to do, but that’s no excuse for being an asshole. He already told you he hadn’t slept with her.”
“Actually, Miss—”
“Juliette Singleton.”
“Actually, Miss Singleton, your friend here cleverly avoided directly answering the question of whether or not he’s had sex with Ms. Silk. Maybe that’s because you’re standing here. Are the two of you sleeping together?”
I grabbed Race’s arm as he took a step forward. “Now that is definitely none of your business, Mr. Owens.”
“It’s Detective Owens.”
I snorted. “I don’t respect you enough to call you Detective,” I replied flatly. “In fact, I’ve half a mind to report you to your superiors for insinuating that Race had an affair with his former employer, when your job as a Robbery-Homicide detective is to catch whoever the hell broke in here.”
Owens’ smile was placating, but I could tell I’d irritated him. Good, I thought.
“Which, as I said, would be a lot easier if Mr. Covington would cooperate with me. I can’t very well help him if he refuses to help himself.”
“Thank you Doctor-fucking-Phil,” Race retorted. “As I said, I can’t tell you who did this. I wasn’t here at the time, nor did I happen to swing by as they were leaving, so it’s not like I’m going to be able to pick the son of a bitch out of a fucking line-up. Yeah, I’ve pissed off a lot of people, but that’s a mighty long list. It could be any one them, or it could be none of them.”
“Then why not let me narrow the list down by giving me a few names, eh?” Owens retorted.
Race growled, but he rattled off a few names, likely just to get Owens off his back. I was not remiss to his inclusion of Merrick, whom I knew he despised, and I wondered just how many of the people he’d mentioned worked for Vienna Silk.
And how many of them were vampires.
After Race walked through the apartment with Owens and gave him a detailed list of things that had been broken and their value, answered yes to whether or not he had renter’s insurance, and gave him contact information because he still intended to leave town, the detective left, followed by the crime scene investigators. Lochlan walked through the door as the last technician went out, and he whistled as he took a look around.
“It certainly looks like you got on somebody’s shit list, chimaera,” he said.
I scowled at him as Race tensed. “Not now, Lochlan.”
“As you wish,” he replied smoothly.
Race was standing in the middle of the living room with his head hanging down, his hands on his hips. I was worried about him, about the anger I knew was barely held in check. Though I suspected that right now being comforted was the last thing on his mind, I nonetheless stepped up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Race tensed again, then relaxed enough to wrap one of his arms around me and lay his cheek to the top of my head. He sighed heavily, and then we were all startled by the ringing of his cell phone, which he pulled out of his pocket and snapped open without even looking at the caller I.D.
“Hello?” he said wearily.
“I trust by now you’ve gotten my message.”
Bein
g that my head was resting against his chest, not to mention my own excellent hearing, I was able to pick up the voice of the person on the other end of the phone. And even were I not able to hear him, I’d have certainly guessed who it was by the way Race stiffened and began to breathe sharply.
“You motherfucker!” he shouted into the phone, pushing me away to pace. “I swear when I get my hands on you—”
Merrick laughed. “You’ll do what, freak?”
“Do you really think breaking into my place and destroying my property is really going to entice me to change my mind? You’re a fucking idiot,” Race seethed.
“Listen clearly, freak—”
Before Race could say another word, Lochlan stepped over and snatched his phone out of his hand, and I had to rush to hold Race back from going after him. Loch held one finger to his lips as he pressed the speakerphone button and said, “I think you should listen clearly, laddie.”
“Who the hell are you?” Merrick asked angrily. “You’re interfering in the affairs of Vienna Silk, asshole.”
Lochlan shot a surprised look Race’s way, though to Merrick he said, “Is that supposed to frighten me? I know vampires far more intimidating than that little pretender.”
“If you know Vienna’s a vampire, dickhead, then you know she’s the most powerful vampire in the state,” Merrick taunted.
Lochlan chuckled. “I beg to differ, little man, for I do believe that the title of ‘most powerful vampire in the state’ belongs to my father, Diarmid Mackenna.”
Silence met his declaration, and Lochlan smiled. “I see I have your attention now. I’ll make what I’m about to say plain and use small words, that your simple, addled brain might comprehend well enough to deliver this message to your mistress: The boy is ours now. And I expect a check made out to Mr. Covington for an amount no less than ten thousand dollars to be remitted by registered mail to the Mackenna Corporation’s corporate headquarters. I do believe your mistress will know where that is.”
From the Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) Page 11
