The Vampire Files, Volume Two

by P. N. Elrod

  That made points with Angela. Doc only shrugged. “Well, you can’t beat that with a stick, but aren’t you moving just a little too fast, girl?”

  Angela grinned. “That’s how you get ahead of the others. I’m not going to sit on my keester waiting for people; it’s up to them to catch up with me. If Chaven can’t move fast enough, then too bad.”

  “Long as you know what you’re doing.”

  “Long as Chaven doesn’t. And he won’t. Isn’t that right, Vic?”

  Vic turned a gray face on her, a dead man’s face, though he was still breathing. “Angela, I’ll do anything you want….”

  “Yes, I know you will. It’s the only chance you’ll get from me. You screw this deal up and anything happens to my father because of it, I’m going to make sure you live.”

  Vic puzzled over that one, his mind too foggy to make much sense of it. “Huh?”

  Doc leaned forward. “What she means is that if you make a mistake, you’ll wish you were dead before we’re finished with you.”

  “I’ll do whatever you say. Promise, Angela. I promise …”

  Her mouth twisted. “Save the whining for later. Screw up and I’ll be in the mood to hear it then.”

  He was sweating freely. “I won’t screw up—”

  “Save it,” she ordered, with a dangerous edge to her voice.

  He shut his mouth and saved it.

  Doc chuckled. “So … what’s next?”

  “I’d like to go home,” I said, by way of suggestion.

  He looked surprised. “Would you now?”

  “Later,” said Angela. “First I deal with Chaven, then with you. Understand?”

  I nodded wearily. It hadn’t hurt to try. If Escott called back, maybe she’d have him come pick me up, but I wasn’t going to bank on her goodwill.

  “God, he looks terrible.” She frowned as though it were somehow my own fault.

  Newton eyed me unhappily. “You don’t think he’s got anything catching, do you?”

  “Doc?”

  Doc shrugged at them. “What about it, kid?”

  “No. I gotta bad stomach is all.”

  “You want anything for it?”

  The answer to that one would only complicate things. I kept my mouth shut and shook my head.

  “Maybe he wants to see your diploma from medical school,” Angela said, her plump lips marred by an unkind smile. “If you haven’t hocked it yet.”

  Doc only shrugged again. It seemed to be his ready answer for a lot of business.

  “Why do you say mean things like that to him?” Opal unexpectedly asked.

  The query didn’t bother Angela. Her reply was simple enough. “Because I can get away with it.”

  Opal next turned to Doc. “Why do you let her say mean things to you?”

  Doc glanced at Angela. She looked interested in the answer, as well. “Because, my dear, I can’t afford to have pride these days.”

  “Why not?”

  “Pride doesn’t buy you stuff like this.” He pulled out the flask and drank from it. “Once you get a taste for the old demon rum, a little thing like pride only gets in the way of your enjoyment.”

  “That stinks.”

  “I suppose it does, but you haven’t got much of a leg to stand on, either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t you just sell yourself out to Angela so you could work with your precious numbers? I’ve got booze, you’ve got numbers, where’s the difference?”

  Opal took the point right away, scowled, and turned back to Angela. “Does that mean you’ll be saying mean things to me?”

  Angela shook her head. “No, I won’t. And neither will anyone else here.” She gave her men a significant look. They all acknowledged it one way or another. No one cracked anything like a smile.

  The scowl abruptly relaxed. Labor relations satisfactorily settled, Opal took off her glasses to polish them against the hem of her dress. “I’m hungry,” she announced to no one in particular.

  Angela nodded at Newton. “Kitchen. Give her whatever she wants.”

  “Sure. Y’want anything yourself?”

  She glared at the phone with disgust and waved them out.

  “When’s Chaven due to call?” I asked.

  “Soon.” Hardly an answer, so she might not know. Chaven could stall her all night if he wanted. She’d wait. I couldn’t. Come morning and … no, I didn’t want to think about that horrific possibility just yet.

  “Angela?” This from Vic, who stirred painfully next to me.

  She sounded bored. “What?”

  “I … I’m in a pretty tough spot, I know that.”

  “All your doing, Vic, not mine.”

  “Yeah, I know that. I just wanted you to know that i really didn’t want to go over to Kyler.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Honest. The man was …” He avoided saying “crazy,” perhaps remembering at the last second about Frank Paco’s own unfortunate condition. “Well, he didn’t give us much of a choice. He’d just as soon skin you alive as look at you. We—”

  “Uh-huh. ’Didn’t want to go over.’ “

  “There’s others who feel the same. Mort, Gabbo, lots of others. They was too scared not to. Once word gets out about Kyler being dead, they’ll want to come back to work for you again.”

  “Like the way you want to now.”

  “On the level, Angela. I know the spot I’m in. After the deal you just made with Opal, you can’t send me back for fear I’ll queer her coming back with the books.”

  “Looks like the boy’s finally grown some brains,” commented Doc.

  “But I don’t want to queer things, I swear to you. I’ll work with you, do whatever it takes to help you get Mr. Paco back.”

  Her face was stone.

  “Then when it’s over, I’ll just tell Chaven that I’m staying on with you. When the other guys hear that, they’ll come back themselves. 1 could talk to ’em, tell ’em about the books. They won’t want to work with Chaven. They know he won’t be able to hold things together the same way. Not the way you can.”

  The stone cracked a little. After a long pause, she sighed. “All right, Vic, you get a second chance.”

  Vic could hardly believe it, sputtered, and started gushing his thanks.

  “Screw it up and you’re dead,” she added, which helped sober him.

  He relaxed back on the sofa. Less subtle than the deathsmell coming from me was the stringy scent of his nervousness and white-faced fear. He desperately wanted—needed—to take her at her word, but I didn’t think she could afford to keep it. It being no business of mine, I kept my mouth shut. Only last night he’d been too ready to assist in taking me to certain doom. If he could pull this one off, good luck to him. I had my own worries.

  The phone rang. Angela pounced on it.

  “Yes, it is. What’s he decided?… Yeah, he’s here. Just a minute.” She held the mouthpiece against her body. “Chaven wants to talk to you, Vic. Watch what you say.”

  He nodded, as pale as his bandages. “I’ll be careful.”

  Doc helped walk him to the desk. He slumped into the chair. Angela had picked up the gun once more and nudged it gently against Vic’s temple.

  “You just remember that you don’t know Kyler’s dead and turn things back over to me first thing.”

  Another nod. “ ’Lo? Chaven? Yeah, it’s me … I’m okay. Yeah, they’re treatin’ us fine. Opal’s mad as a wet hen, but fine. Angela wants to deal, what about the boss? Okay … Okay.” He gave the earpiece over to Angela and wearily put his head down on the desk. She grabbed it and hunched over the phone to make herself heard, juggling untidily with the gun.

  “All right, what’s Kyler decided? Uh-huh … uh-huh. Yeah, we can be there by then, but why there? Uh-huh. I want to talk to my father first and make sure he’s all right … Then I want to talk to Kyler so he can explain….” She muffled the earpiece. “The lazy so-and-so didn’t want to bring in Daddy.�
�

  “Bet he wants to bring in Kyler even less,” mused Doc.

  She tossed me a wink of acknowledgment for the news I’d given her. I didn’t bother to return it. After a moment her eyes refocused and she stiffened, struggling for breath. “Daddy! Are you all right?” She laughed at his reply, sounding a little forced. “Well, those mugs will get theirs, soon as you come home again. We’ll make sure. What was that? Daddy? Daddy!” Her expression abruptly went cold, reflecting the change in speakers. “Okay, you just keep him happy or I’ll know the reason why.” Angela slammed the earpiece back on its hook.

  “What’s the story?” asked Doc.

  “We meet at the old boat dock in an hour.”

  “Why there?”

  “He’s coming in by way of the lake. He’ll be in that big yacht that belonged to Morelli and will send a boat out from it. Daddy’ll be in the boat.”

  “Why the hell does he want to do it that way? If we wanted to we could pick them off like sitting ducks when they return. Kyler would never take a chance like that.” He glared at me, full of drunken suspicion. “Unless he’s working with him, misleading us on this whole thing.”

  “I’m not,” I answered faintly. “And you’ll talk yourself into a real circle with thinking like that. Go for the simple and obvious reason behind it all: Chaven’s taking the yacht so he can dump Kyler’s body into the lake. As long as he’s out there, he can use it to make a fairly safe exchange. He’s not worried so much about you, Miss Paco, as about the cops finding him with a stiff.”

  It both annoyed and amused, but also reassured her. She gave out with a short laugh that turned into a sharp gasp of shock. Without warning, Vic erupted from his chair and fell onto her. They dropped out of my view behind the desk. Doc froze with indecision for a crucial moment and then I heard Angela’s bellow of outrage.

  Vic staggered up. He’d gotten her gun. He looked almost as surprised about it as the rest of us. He put his back to the wall and crab-walked toward the door.

  “No trouble,” he gasped, eyes wild. “No trouble. I just want outta here.”

  Angela’s reply was anything but genteel.

  He ignored it and kept going for the door. He made it, made a clumsy but successful scrabble to open it, and was away. As soon as he was out of sight, Angela was on her feet and ripping open one of the desk drawers.

  Doc gave a start. “My God, girl, you can’t—”

  “Yes, I can,” she grated. She straightened, with a grenade in each fist. “Watch him!” Meaning me. Then she charged after Vic.

  Doc made a halfhearted start to follow, but gave it up. He found lengthy solace in his flask.

  “Quite a handful, isn’t she?” I observed, seeking calm conversation in the middle of all the insanity.

  He nodded tiredly. “Her whole life. Why Frank didn’t raise her to be a nice girl, I don’t know.”

  “When I saw him—at Kyler’s—he said he did just that.”

  “You know what I mean, kid. She’s no floozie, but she’s sure not a regular kind of girl. Maybe it’s a sign of the times.”

  More likely a sign of Frank Paco’s skill as a father. God help Vic.

  The burglar alarm bell went off. Doc jumped.

  “That’ll be Vic leaving the house,” he concluded. He walked to the window. “He’s making for the cars. I sure hope she doesn’t …”

  Drumbeat.

  The glass vibrated the way it does during a bad thunderstorm. Doc blanched and let the curtain fall back. He rubbed at his eyes as though they were sore, then looked at me. He seemed about to say something, but swallowed it back like a mouthful of vomit. He cleared his throat with another long drink.

  “Want one?” he asked tonelessly.

  I said no. Several minutes crawled by without another word. The alarm stopped ringing, then we heard footsteps at the door. Sheldon, his hand and arm in a proper cast and sling, poked his head in.

  “Hey, Doc, what the hell’s going on here?” His eyes were heavy and fogged from whatever painkiller he’d had that day. He wore a rumpled pajama shirt, carpet slippers, and a hastily pulled on pair of trousers.

  “Angela’s out taking care of Vic,” said Doc with a pale grin.

  “That double-crossing—hey!” He had caught sight of me, waking up quite a lot. “What’s he doing here?”

  “He’s helping us get Frank back.”

  “Like he was supposed to last night, huh? That’ll be fine by me. I owe this bastard a good one for this,” he said, indicating his shattered arm. “Wish I could be there to see what Kyler’s going to do to you.”

  Doc didn’t bother to give him the latest news. We heard more footsteps and Angela came in with Newton and Opal.

  Angela’s eyes were half closed and she wore the smooth and untroubled smile that often goes with contented accomplishment. There was a bright splash of blood on her cheek. Not hers, she explained to Doc in a brisk voice when he asked about it. She was breathing hard, but I got the impression it was from her running, not as a reaction to what she had just done. She had one grenade left and neatly shut it back into its drawer.

  Watching her with something like awe, Newton and Opal kept extremely quiet. Angela observed us each in turn and liked what she saw.

  “Well, I solved that problem,” she stated.

  I could see her point, since Vic had just shown he couldn’t be trusted. Better to completely remove him as a threat than to explain why he was staying on with people who considered him a traitor. Even Chaven wouldn’t have swallowed a story like that for very long without suspecting something else was brewing. I could, indeed, see the point very clearly, and concluded that I’d been hanging around this crazy house for far too long.

  “What are you doing downstairs, Sheldon?” she asked, noticing him.

  He was a little nervous, having correctly picked up on the tension coming off the rest of us. “I was sleeping and heard the alarm go off again. Thought I’d check things.”

  “Good. I’m glad to know that you’re on the ball. Newton, you’ll find Mac and Lester outside. I want you to help them clean up the mess there, but first put this one on ice.” She indicated me. “I don’t need any more surprises tonight.”

  “Yeah, sure thing, Angela.”

  “Opal, you stay with me.”

  “Okay.”

  Her eyes sharpened. “You still want to work here?”

  The question genuinely puzzled Opal. “Yes, I do.”

  She made a gesture toward the window to indicate Vic. “Even after that?”

  Opal was indifferent. “I work with numbers. That’s what I’m best at. That’s what I want to stick with.”

  Angela broke into a grin of sly delight. “You’re okay, Opal.”

  Still indifferent. Opal simply nodded, but some of the stiffness went out of the rest of us. Doc drank some color back into his face and assumed a semblance of his version of normality, and why not? Murder was business as usual in this household.

  The phone rang again. Angela snapped it up.

  “Yes? What? Oh, it’s you.” Her big eyes rested on me, giving me an accurate idea of the caller’s identity. “Uh-huh, I’ve thought it over and I’ll accept your offer. Uh-huh? Well, you’re welcome. Now, what’s this information you’ve got? No, it doesn’t work like that. You get your friend back after I hear what it is.”

  Escott said something to make her smile.

  “He wants to know if you’re all right,” she relayed to me. Great, I was expected to hobble over to the desk with words of reassurance.

  I spoke loudly, hoping he could hear. “Tell him I’m fine, but”—I almost added “thirsty” but decided against it—”need some rest.”

  “You get that?” she asked him. “Good. Now what’s your story? No, first you talk. Take it or leave it.”

  Escott took it and Angela listened, watching me the whole time. I didn’t have to ask why she was playing such games; she was only trying to confirm what I’d told her. If Escott was on the ball�
��and I expected he would be—he’d interpret her lack of reaction to his news to mean that she already knew about it. That’s what I fervently hoped, so he’d give her the same information. If not, then the consequences were yet another subject that I didn’t want to think about.

  After a few minutes, I was almost able to relax. Angela nodded restlessly, as if bored with the conversation, and finally broke in on him to cut things short.

  “Okay, okay, I got all that and you’ll get him back, but later tonight. Call here in two hours and we’ll set it up then. No, that’s the best I can do and I think you know better than to bring in the cops. Good.” She hung up and frowned at her watch.

  “Busy night,” Doc commented.

  “I can handle it.”

  “Never said you couldn’t, girl. You’ll get Frank home again.”

  “If they know what’s good for them. Newton, I told you to get this one out of here. And don’t forget about Mac and Lester.”

  Newton stepped forward to take me away. Once more, he had to call on Doc for help getting me down the hall.

  “Third time’s the charm,” he said as they dragged me to the steam room. “We’ll see if we can’t keep you here, eh?”

  “Your bedside manner stinks,” I muttered, not looking forward to being locked up.

  “So they keep telling me.”

  Someone had installed a couple of eyebolts on either side of the outward-opening door since my last stay. Propped in a corner was a steel rod borrowed from a rack of barbells and stripped of its weights. Thread (he rod through the bolts and you’d have to break the door itself to make an escape. In my present state, I had serious doubts about my ability to break so much as an egg. They dropped me onto a tile bench and Doc lifted and straightened my legs along it. His face was serious again. He tried to take my pulse. I jerked my arm away.

  “Lemme ’lone, will you?”

  “You’re mighty sick, kid. I can’t fix it if you won’t let me.”

  “Then don’t bother.”

  He acquiesced with a pitying shrug. Maybe there’d been one too many lapses to his Hippocratic oath for him to take any extra trouble over an obviously dying man. “Come on, Newton.”

  Newton all but raced him out in his haste to get away. He couldn’t have been in much of a hurry to help Mac and Lester; perhaps he’d caught a little of the deathsmell coming from me. They shut the door and fixed the rod between the eyebolts.