Yearling Investigation Archives (Book 1): Sanguine

by Brittany Swigert

  The people who had been huddled by the building joined the man who helped start the fire and they all placed their hands up to it to take in its warmth. They seemed to be shielding it from the elements and Lofgren admired the way their pursuit of survival had helped his. It was moments like this that intrigued him most.

  When he was content in the destruction of his clothes Lofgren thanked the man who started the fire. He walked back up to the road and got in to the car. The interior was mostly white and it was impeccably clean. An air freshener had been placed by the vent. The smell of vanilla hung in the air. Lofgren felt the cold from the leather seat seep through his pants to mingle with his already icy legs.

  The drive to the club was easy despite the rain and he was frustrated that he had been delayed by both his partner and the weather. He parked the car and made his way inside to find Kasparov. He could only hope that nothing had happened in the time the two were apart. Lofgren was still a bit uneasy about the way his partner had put Kliseman down so calmly. He knew Kasparov was upset over his friend’s death, but he seemed to show no remorse and that deviated greatly from what his partner had shown before.

  Inside Kasparov was surrounded by the women of the club. He had abandoned his shirt and his paunchy pale body stuck out in the dimly lit club. He had changed his pants and his hair was freshly washed, it looked like he had stopped somewhere to clean up before coming to the club. The girls all wanted to see his wound and told him how scared they were that he had been hurt. Even Claudia had joined in on the doting. She either was unaware she had been identified, or she wanted them to think that. Lofgren noticed the look on his partners face was that of true amusement and was relived. Even with Claudia so close, he was maintaining his usual demeanor. After a few minutes a short man with an extra shirt draped over his shoulder came out and ordered the ladies back to work. Some left dutifully, others sulked off sporting looks of frustration.

  “Lofgren, come meet my old friend Marian!” Kasparov yelled across the bar. Lofgren smiled and walked over wondering if Kasparov had taken more medicine and truly felt as jovial as he appeared or if it was all a façade to lure Claudia in to a false sense of security.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marian.” Lofgren said as he extended his hand to the owner of the club. Marian took it and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

  “Oh surely the pleasure is all mine Agent Lofgren.” Marian responded with a grin. “Scott, you didn’t tell me your friend was such a looker. My, My, don’t tell Ferdinand, but I might just be bad tonight.”

  It was unnerving to Lofgren to be under the charms of the short man and he wasn’t at all pleased by the direction the handshake had taken. He stood for a moment unsure of how to respond. He had no issues with the man’s sexuality but he had been raised in a conservative home in the south and wasn’t used to the advances of men and had no idea how to politely decline.

  Lofgren must have been obvious about his discomfort because Kasparov began to laugh uncontrollably. He felt he had missed some private joke and wanted to know what had caused the laughter. He also wondered if it was the drugs Kasparov was taking for pain that had incited the laughter. After a moment he wouldn’t need to wonder as Kasparov explained.

  “Marian likes to flirt with straight men, you get used to it. I promise. Besides, he’s more loyal than a Labrador puppy when it comes to Ferdinand. I wonder if I looked like you did when I met him. A little inside information, he never stops, you just get used to it.” Kasparov informed him.

  “That’s right, Honey.” Marian said with a wink as he handed Kasparov the shirt that he had slung across his round shoulders. “Now on to serious matters, I hear you took down the fella that killed Bambi. She was one of my best girls. A damn shame to have lost her. Will the two of you be at the funeral? Its tomorrow morning. We wanted to do it sooner but her parents insisted on arranging the thing. I am under the distinct impression they don’t like us very much. I had to call the funeral home to find out where and when the funeral was going to be.”

  “I’m going to do my damnedest. You know how things are for me though; I may be handling a case. We have a lead, but you also know how that can go. I know I want to be there and that may have to be enough. There are people missing and Jared was just the beginning. We still have a lot of work to do to find the people responsible.” Kasparov replied as he put the shirt on. It was black and had bright purple lettering that spelled out Marian’s across the front of it.

  “I feel responsible. I can’t believe none of my people ever noticed that guy was up to something. Although what can I say, I don’t hire them for their sense, I hire them to be pretty and dumb. Well I’m going to get back to it, boys. Enjoy your visit and if you intend to shoot anyone, cowboy, give me a warning.” Marian said as he left to return to the bar. People were starting to trickle into the club and he needed to be ready to help them.

  Lofgren sat down next to Kasparov and sighed. He had let himself look foolish and it frustrated him. He had worked hard to maintain an unshakable bearing, but Marian had truly surprised him. He made a decision to apologize to the man before he left. He felt he had been rude by letting himself get uneasy.

  “Claudia is about to go on stage. I talked to Missy and she told me that that bitch asked to leave early. One of us should wait out back and follow her when she leaves. She is driving the black Chrysler out back.” Kasparov suggested. “I can do it if you want to hang back here.”

  “No, the girls will notice you leaving and we don’t want any extra attention. I’ll slip out and follow her. I can probably slip in to the trunk and then when she stops I can get out and call you.” Lofgren explained quietly. “It’s the best chance we have. And I’m willing to risk it.”

  “I’ll be waiting for your call then.” Kasparov replied.

  Lofgren patted his friend on the back and made his way to the bathroom where he climbed out of the window. He spotted the car and carefully picked the lock on the trunk. It was spacious and Lofgren was thankful for it. He climbed in taking special care to be as quiet as possible and pulled the trunk closed. As an afterthought, he checked that his phone was set to silent and put it in his pocket before drawing his gun and aiming toward the back of the car. If he were to be discovered he would need all the help he could get.

  After about fifteen minutes Lofgren heard Claudia come out the back of the club and walk up to the car. She was standing by the trunk and he knew he had been discovered. He was readying himself to shoot when he heard her pull out her keys and walk to get in the car. She had misplaced them, leaving him to worry for nothing.

  Claudia was not a great driver. She stopped suddenly and took turns with higher than recommended speeds. Lofgren had to holster his weapon and use all his dexterity and strength to maintain his position and avoid making noise. She had left a pair off heels in the trunk that had become wedged between his back and the trunk wall that caused him great discomfort. A murder or not, there was no questioning she was a woman. They always found a way to cause him frustration.

  It was twenty minutes before she turned the car off and got out. All was still and he was sure they had arrived but waited until he could be certain she had gone inside. Lofgren sat for around ten minutes trying to get an understanding of what was going on outside the car. He heard her get out of the car and heard the sound of the door open and close. He wasn’t sure if she had guards posted outside and waited to listen for them. As soon as he was confident no one was nearby he felt for the latch, readied his weapon, and let himself out of the trunk. He sat up ready to shoot and was met by four men with pistols aimed at him and Claudia standing in the middle.

  “Well, well, boys. Look what we have here, an agent with a death wish.” Claudia said sadistically. “Drop that hand cannon, baby. We knew you were in there. You see I have a system for these things. I can always tell when someone is stowing away in the back of my car. Do you wanna know how? I keep a rather heavy pair of shoes in my trunk. They are like my own personal
security system. The shoes in the back didn’t roll when I took all those sharp turns.

  “You have wasted so much time looking for us. Now you’re here and you have nowhere left to hide. You have put down two of our agent’s this week and that can’t be tolerated. What do you suppose we do to him, fellas?”

  “Kasparov is going to find you, even if you kill me.” Lofgren said as he placed his gun on to the floor of the trunk and stepped out. “I hope you know what you’re doing here.”

  “Me?” She laughed. “I was thinking how crazy you are coming here, in to the den of the nasty vampires. Or are you the one who prefers to think of us as a cult? I can’t remember who’s who anymore.”

  “I know what you are Claudia and I’m not afraid of you.” Lofgren said confidently. He wasn’t dead yet, so he had a chance to make it out alive. He doubted he would make it out unharmed and silently accepted what may come next.

  “You just don’t know that you’re supposed to be yet. We can fix that.” She replied. “Oh where are my manners. I haven’t introduced my security detail. This skinny fella is Letty, my older friend here goes by Rico, the short bastard is Samuel, and Nick here is my body guard. They are just tickled to have a visitor. We rarely get any company that we haven’t had to drug or incapacitate.

  Letty looked like a junkie who was going through withdrawal and Rico looked to be too old to cause any real problem. Lofgren noted that while Samuel was short, but he was stocky and looked strong. Nick was hard to read. He was a younger black man who had well defined muscles; it was not a good sign that he was her bodyguard.

  “I’m not afraid of you, or them.” Lofgren reinforced.

  “Take him inside to room seven. I will remind him of what he should fear.” Claudia said with a smile. The men nodded and directed Lofgren through a winding hallway and in to a side room where they removed his coat and bound him to a chair at gun point. They sat and stood guard as they waited for Claudia to come handle the intruder.

  “What do you think she is going to do?” Letty asked. He looked to be shaking and Lofgren wondered how long it had been since he had gotten high.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t just burn the car with him in it.” Rico replied.

  “That does sound like something she would do. I remember what she did last time she caught a cop.” Samuel replied.

  “Shut up. You know she doesn’t like us talking around the captives.” Nick ordered. The four men fell silent and waited for Claudia. It was clear that he was both respected and feared by the others. A few minutes later the woman walked in and handed the young man Lofgren’s gun to add to their arsenal. She had changed from what she wore at the club, and somehow managed to be even more attractive. She wore a pair of tight jean shorts and a brown vest. Her belt had an assortment of knives, screwdrivers, files, and other tools. He was taken aback by her beauty and didn’t know what made him more nervous, how she looked, or what she was about to do to him.

  “I have returned, my pet and we are going to have a great time together.” Claudia said to Lofgren as she straddled his lap. She placed her lips right at Lofgren’s ear and continued. “I know you are here to kill us, and that just isn’t any fun. I ordered you, and your partner, to be taken out and you managed to dispatch my dispatcher. So as a show of respect for you and Kasparov’s unimaginable cunning and skill, I have decided to let you live; for now. You see he’s going to come get you. We’re going to tell him how. And while you wait for your ride home, I’m going to show you what I do for fun.”

  “What are you talking about you sick bitch?” Lofgren asked. He knew he was in deep and no longer had any idea what he could do to get out of this. It was clear she had devised a way to take out Kasparov using him as bait, after Kasparov was dead, they’d kill him too. In the meantime he was terrified to find out what she meant by the word fun. For the first time in a long time he was afraid.

  “I’m going to hurt you.” She replied, licking his ear before standing up and laughing. “You tortured Kliseman, didn’t you? I bet he talked pretty quick. Unfortunately for you, I like to approach torture the same way I approach sex; intimately, sensually, and very messy.

  She snapped at the tall man and pointed toward Lofgren as she turned to ready her implements. He grabbed the jacket Lofgren had been wearing and pulled out the cell phone. Claudia held her hand out and took the phone from her lackey. It only took a moment for her to find Kasparov’s number and place the call.

  “Hello, my love. Your friend has come to play with me. We might be some time and he will likely be a bit different after all is said and done, you understand.” She spoke in to the phone. “Uh, huh. Yes, he is alive and unharmed for now. You don’t have long to find me. I’ll call you again with directions. When I give them, follow them quickly. I have a habit of breaking my toys. Goodbye Scott.”

  Lofgren knew Kasparov would be worried and he hoped that he wouldn’t let that cloud his judgment. The last thing he needed was to be caught and end up in the same situation. Part of him wished Kasparov would leave him to die.

  “Now, where were we?” Claudia asked the boys as she pulled the battery from the phone and placed it on the shelf.

  “Playtime.” They answered in unison.

  Claudia smiled at Lofgren before she took a knife from her belt and cut away his shirt. Fabric fell to the ground revealing intricate tattoos that covered his arms and torso. She dropped the knife and ran her hands over them admiring them before kissing his neck gently and rubbing her hand across his chin. Lofgren didn’t know what she was going to do and her touch was far from comforting. His pulse quickened as her fingertips traversed his chest. Claudia withdrew and pulled out a long tool with a bent end. It appeared to be blunt and it was too small to cause any damage if she struck him with it. He wondered what she intended to do with the strange object. Lofgren knew he was in trouble and he had seen what she was capable of. He knew whatever she was about to do was going to hurt.

  “Let’s play then.” She whispered to Lofgren as she straddled him once more. She kissed his left cheek and shoved the strange object in to his right eye socket expelling its contents. Lofgren screamed in agony as he felt his optic nerve rip in half. He struggled against his restraints to grab at the place that once held his eye instinctually. The rope that bound him had no give and he was left to struggle with the pain. Claudia laughed as she tossed his eye to Rico. “Take this to my room at hotel. Kasparov will need something to motivate him to come and play with us.”

  XI.

  Kasparov threw his phone against the back of the bar. It struck two bottles, damaging them, as well as the mirror that lined the back wall. The phone lay in pieces amongst the shattered glass and dripping liquor. They had taken Lofgren and all he could was sit and wait like a trained animal. It sickened him to know he was at their beck and call. He hopped the bar and picked up the broken pieces of the phone cutting his finger on a bit of glass.

  “Fuck!” Kasparov yelled as he threw a fist in to the mirrored wall further damaging it. For a moment he just stood and stared at his reflection in the shattered mirror. Blood stained the glass where his fist had connected and it gave parts of him a reddish hue. He pulled the sim card from the phone and turned to Marian. “Can I borrow your cell for a bit? They got Lofgren and I need to be able to reach them. Don’t worry, I won’t break it.”

  “Yeah.” Marian said, shocked at the display of rage. Kasparov usually maintained a calm demeanor and this kind of behavior was unlike him. He took Marian’s sim card out and handed it to him before replacing it with his own and powering up the phone. He made a test call to the bar to be sure it had connected. “You’re going to find him Scott. I have faith in you, and so does he. And then you both can come help put up the new mirror you’re going to buy me.”

  “Shit, Marian. I’m sorry. I lost my nerve. It’s been a fucked up week. I’ll pay for the damages when all is said and done, I promise.” Kasparov replied. He jumped back over the bar and walked out to his car. He needed
to figure out what to do. He was wounded and a fight could kill him. As he dug for his keys, a pack of cigarettes fell out of his pocket. There was a bit of blood on the box from earlier. Kasparov dropped to the ground against his car and watched the rain rinse the evidence of his hostilities from the cellophane.

  For a moment Kasparov just stared at the ground allowing the gravity of what he had done set in. Not only had he murdered a man who at the moment was without threat, he had assisted in torturing someone and now Lofgren had to pay the price. It took everything he had not to break down. He grabbed his cigarettes and tried to light one. Water from the ground had seeped in making it impossible to ignite and forced Kasparov to pull himself from the slick pavement.

  The moisture from the ground had left Kasparov’s slacks soaked and cold. He opened his trunk and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a fresh pack of cigarettes; packing them with such force that the corners of the box were crushed and rounded. He ripped the cellophane from the top and pulled the foil away to get at the packs contents. Kasparov lit the tip of the cigarette and made his way inside to change.

  People looked at him with trepidation as he walked by to the bathroom. He felt their eyes on him, their expressions cast judgement on him for crimes they had no way of knowing he had committed. He reasoned with himself that they were just nervous after the incident with the phone and pushed through the bathroom door.

  The restroom was dirty and stank of the men who had used it. The floor was grimy and bits of built up black dust lined the wall and filled the cracks in the linoleum. Kasparov made his way in to a stall to change. He had just finished putting on the clean pants when the phone went off. He had a new message from Lofgren’s phone.