Red Sunset Drive, page 19
Brett rose to his feet and cleared his throat. “Hey guys. Are we about ready?”
Dragos’s dark hair gleamed in the dim light. Once again, he was dressed all in black. Candy was nestled within his arms; his chin rested on the top of her head.
Lisa sat in his recliner, her arms folded across her chest, glaring at him. Obviously she was pissed off at him, but now wasn’t the time to deal with it.
“If you guys are ready to go, I’ll go change.”
Michael appeared at Lisa’s side and patted her shoulder.
Dragos dropped his arms, pressing a kiss to Candy’s forehead. “Fine, hurry up,” Dragos grumbled.
Candy grabbed Dragos’s hand. “Be careful. I want you back in one piece.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” Dragos murmured, meeting Brett’s gaze from across the room. Dragos’s eyes darkened.
Brett turned down the hall and quickly dressed, grabbing his Glock along with extra ammunition and weapons. As he loaded his bag, he heard his cell phone ring. He’d left it in the kitchen.
Brett called out, “Hey, someone check my phone and see who it is.”
When he returned to the front room, Dragos was holding his phone with a strange look on his face. Everyone turned toward him.
“Who was on the phone?”
Dragos shook his head. His eyes burned like molten lava.
A shiver coursed through Brett.
“Chief Anders called. It’s bad, Brett.”
What could have happened? His pulse hammered in his head. “What’s wrong?”
Dragos trembled. His fingers curled into fists. “I’m going to destroy him! I swear to God!”
Brett strode over and grabbed the front of Dragos’s sweater. “You have one second to tell me what the fuck is going on!”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Dragos roared. “Someone found the bodies of six women.”
34
Dragos’s chest ached from pent-up fury. Anders hadn’t known the cause of death when he called. The bodies were being sent to the coroner. In his heart, Dragos knew the cause. They had been drained of blood—by vampires.
Candy cupped his cheek. He leaned into her, breathing her fresh scent. A calmness soothed him.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
He was unable to speak. His throat choked with emotion. He nodded, angrily wiping his eyes. Victor had ruined his life. Now the bastard continued to ruin lives of people in this century. This madness had to stop. He had an obligation to stop Victor. He wasn’t sure how he would do so, but he would not relent until the vampire was no more.
“Anders said we’re supposed to report as soon as possible.”
“Let’s get going then,” Brett tersely announced. Lisa rose to embrace him in a hug.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
With a grim look on Brett’s face, he ordered, “Stay here. Lock the doors and don’t open them for anyone.”
Dragos watched Brett storm out the door. Lisa glared after Brett with her hands on her hips. Dragos felt thankful she was not his woman. Candy was warmhearted and soothing to his soul—not argumentative like Lisa.
“Go. You look after Brett. I’ll look after Lisa,” Candy whispered.
Dragos pulled her forward until she pressed against his body. He angled his mouth and deepened the kiss. Her fingers tangled his hair, pulling him closer. His breathing hitched higher. He was lost.
Someone cleared their throat. Reluctantly, Dragos broke away. A few seconds more and he would have been unable to leave.
“Do as Brett says. Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Farewell, my sweet.”
Without looking back, he marched out the door to where Brett waited.
A grin spread across Lisa’s face. “My sweet?” Lisa teased.
A blush graced Candy’s face.
“Yeah, you know—Candy. Sweet. It’s my special nickname.”
“Aw. That’s so cute. Brett doesn’t have a nickname for me.” Her smile faded. “Right now he probably thinks I’m being a bitch, which I am. Grrr! Men are so frustrating.”
“What did he do wrong?”
“Nothing, really. He’s ignoring me and won’t let me go out on the investigation.”
Candy chuckled. “What’s wrong with that? He cares about you.”
“I hope he still cares. I feel like I’m being shut out. If I was good enough to help with the last big case, why can’t I help with this one?”
Candy held up several fingers. “Gee, let me see. One, you were kidnapped. Or wait, did that happen twice? I forgot. You were lucky that you didn’t die.”
Lisa dipped her head to her chest. “I know. But I think I—we—could help.”
Eyes wide, Candy shook her head. “Oh, no. You’re not dragging me into this. Dragos wants me to stay here. I don’t want to piss off a vampire. He might bite me.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“That is so bad!” She tossed a pillow at Candy’s face.
Sighing, Lisa flopped back on the sofa. “You know, we could just follow them. We won’t get involved—just make sure they’re safe.”
Candy shook her head. “No.”
“But you’re a PI. You have experience spying on people without getting noticed.”
“No.”
“Don’t you carry a gun? You know how to use it. With your skills, and if we stay in the car, we will be safe.”
“No.”
“Aren’t you worried about Dragos? You can help keep him safe.”
“Well …”
Lisa felt Candy’s resolve begin to crumble. “We will stay in the car. No one will ever know.”
Candy bit her lower lip, clearly distraught.
“Do you think we will really help?”
She took Candy’s hand. “I do. My experience with supernatural beings is that the more people that can fight them, the better chance we all have. Believe me; I do not want to put Brett’s life or ours in jeopardy. All we will do is follow them. We won’t even get out of the car to go to the bathroom. I’ll take a jar.”
Candy laughed as she rose. “We’re not taking any damn jars. If we’re doing this, then you will do what I tell you. I’ve tracked husbands, abusive boyfriends, and all kinds of creeps with outstanding warrants. We are not going to risk our lives or the guys’.”
She jumped up and hugged her friend. “Okay. Hurry up; we need to get to the station so we can follow them.”
Candy grabbed Lisa’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Don’t make me regret this, Lisa.”
“Don’t be a worrywart. Nothing will happen.”
35
Brett waited outside Anders’s office. Dragos paced the marble floors in front of him. The guy was wearing a path in the marble tile. Brett’s head pounded. Six more murders. The women’s bodies were being examined by the coroner as they waited. He needed to get his hands on the report as soon as it was ready.
The door to the chief’s office flew open. Anders filled the doorway. Tufts of grayish hair stood on end. Frown lines marred his flushed face.
“O’Shea, get in here.”
Brett jerked to his feet and motioned for Dragos to follow him. They stood before Anders’s desk, waiting for orders.
“Sit down. I’m getting a crook in my neck looking up at you two.” Anders reached for the bottle of Tums on the desk. “Damn heartburn.” Popping the lid, he shook out two of the pastel tablets and shoved them into his mouth. Crunch. “Hmm. Better.” He slid several photos across the desk. “Do you know any of them?”
Brett tentatively picked up the pictures. One by one, he stared at the faces of six women. They were all young, in their twenties. Lots of makeup and red lipstick—or was it blood?—smeared their faces. He handed the photos to Dragos.
“Well, do you know them?” Anders snapped.
“No,” Brett shook his head. “What do you think?”
Anders shrugged. “Don’t know. Could be a bunch of college girls out on the town. You need to figure it out, quick, before all hell breaks loose. Do you want Randall to help you?”
“No. Dragos and I will handle it,” he grumbled.
“We’ve got less than twenty-four hours before this hits the paper. Maybe less if someone comes looking for their daughter.”
Brett stood, picking up the photos. “All right to take these?”
“Take them. I’m counting on you, O’Shea.”
He nodded. “Sir, I’ll do my best.”
Neither he nor Dragos said a word as they walked to the car. Once he was in the car, Brett gripped the wheel. How were they going to find Victor? Suddenly Dragos slammed his fist onto the dash of the car. Brett jerked, staring at him.
“Hey! You’ll break my car.”
Dragos glared at him.
“Don’t be pissed at me. We need to direct that anger toward Victor.”
“So, Detective O’Shea, do you have any idea where to start?”
“Maybe. Something has been bugging me. Abby said she was at a party with six girls.”
“Yes, and your point is …?”
“Now we have the bodies of six women lying in the morgue? I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”
Dragos blanched. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Brett squeezed Dragos’s shoulder. “Stay positive. We’ll get him”
“I’m glad you think so.” Dragos flashed a wry grin. “Do you still have that girl’s address?”
Brett whipped out a piece of paper. “Got it. Let’s make a house call.”
They walked up onto the porch of a two-story white house. There wasn’t a car on the quiet street. A mix of older and modern houses lined the street.
Brett rang the doorbell. Minutes later, an older woman opened the door.
“Can I help you?”
He handed her a card. “Good evening, ma’am. I’m Detective O’Shea from the Des Moines Police Department. I have a couple of questions to ask Abby. Is she at home?”
The woman’s hand flew to her chest. “Is she in trouble?”
“Absolutely not. I just have a couple of questions about people she may know.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll go get her. Please come in.”
They stood in the living room, glancing at a wall of pictures of Abby. Obviously she was quite a track star; a number of trophies and ribbons adorned the wall.
Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Abby skidded to a halt once she spotted them. The color drained from her face.
“Detective? What are you doing here?”
“Abby, let’s sit down.”
Abby grabbed her mother’s hand, and they sat on the sofa.
Once seated, he pulled out the photos. “I have some photos I’d like you to look at.”
Brett saw her glance at Dragos before zeroing in on him. Her brows drew together. Was she worried? Nervous?
Brett took a deep breath. Better to get it over with. “Do you know any of these women?” He had given Abby photos that weren’t too shocking or graphic. He didn’t want to traumatize the young woman for the rest of her life.
“Dear, you don’t have to do this,” her mother murmured.
Abby picked up the top picture. It vibrated in her shaking hand. Her lower lip trembled as if she were going to cry.
Her mother wrapped an arm about Abby, offering reassurance.
Brett reached out to take the photo from her. She jerked back, holding it to her chest. Dragos’s brow rose in surprise.
“What happened to her? Is she dead?”
“Do you know her, Abby?”
She slowly nodded. “I’m pretty sure it’s Christy Wilson.” Staring down at the photo in her lap, she whispered, “Is she dead?”
This time he was able to slide the picture from her grip.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Abby jerked to her feet. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
Abby’s mother stared at Brett before tightening her arm around her daughter.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Did those guys kill her?”
Brett shrugged. “We don’t know. Now that we have a name and know that you were with her at the party, it will help the investigation.”
Wiping the tears away with an angry swipe of her hand, she pointed to the other photos. “What about the other girls? Are they all dead?”
His gut rolled. He hated doing this—showing a nice girl photos of dead bodies: girls she knew. The poor kid would probably have nightmares for many nights to come.
“I’m sorry, but if you could give us any names, it would help. I know this is difficult, but you can make a difference.”
He pulled out the photos and one by one, and Abby was able to provide a name for each of the pictures. Her mother quietly stood near Abby; her hand anxiously rubbing Abby’s arm.
After identifying the women, Abby began to sob uncontrollably. Her mom wrapped her in a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry to ask, but I have a couple of additional questions.” Brett struggled to keep emotions steady. “Did you notice whether the house was a ranch style, two story? Were there a lot of trees? Anything unusual in the area? A park or school?”
Abby’s tears slowed. Her mom handed her a tissue to blow her nose. With a blotchy face, the young girl drew in a deep breath. “A ranch. There were empty lots around the house.”
Brett smiled in encouragement. “Sounds like a new house?”
Abby nodded. “On the way to the house, we passed a lot of big fancy houses.”
“That will help us find the people who did this. Thanks, Abby.” Brett reached over and patted the young girl’s hand. “If you think of anything else, anything at all, give me a call. Day or night.”
The older woman glanced at Brett, fear filling her eyes.
“Abby told me everything that happened. Is she safe? I didn’t know if we should go stay with relatives out of state. What do you think?”
Dragos nodded at the woman.
Brett nodded in agreement. “It may be for the best. Just let me know how to get a hold of you and Abby.”
“Promise me that you will catch whoever did this. I don’t want my baby hurt.”
Brett took the woman’s hand. “Ma’am, trust me; we will do our best to get these guys. I’m sorry that I had to put you and Abby through all of this, but she’s been very helpful.”
He slid a business card from his pocket and left it on the table. After quickly collecting the photos, he and Dragos hurried from the house. They had identified the victims. Maybe they could find out the location of the party.
36
After writing up Abby’s statement back at the office, Brett e-mailed it to Foster and Anders. Minutes later, the chief stormed into Brett’s office. The sound of the door hitting the wall reverberated in the office. Dragos jumped to his feet.
Anders stomped past his desk and glared out the window. The chief’s teeth gritted together, creating a sound that was worse than fingernails scraping a chalkboard.
“What do you see out here, O’Shea?”
Brett went to the window to look outside. Shit! “Is that a news crew setting up outside?”
Anders took a swig from his coffee cup. “It’s worse than you can imagine. Shit! I’ll be lucky to have a job by the end of the week.”
“Do you think they know?”
Anders turned on his heel and poked his head out the door. “Marge! Can you get me a refill?”
Anders motioned for him to move and sat behind Brett’s desk. Hands on either side of his head, Anders massaged his temples.
Marge knocked on the open door and set a steaming cup in front of the chief. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Brett shook his head. With a hand on her hip, she nodded and quietly left his office. That was a shocker in itself.
Brett glanced at Dragos, who stood stiffly against the wall. He sighed and took a seat in front of Anders. “Any ideas on who called them?”
With eyes closed, Anders murmured, “Allen is holding a press conference in an hour. He called me to warn me. Damn asshole.”
“But how did he find out about the six women?”
Anders shook his head. “I don’t think he knows yet. The family of the murdered woman who worked for him at the dig site has been pressuring him for answers. He is going to tell the world that he believes there are vampires in Des Moines.”
Brett’s stomach churned as he mentally connected the dots. “Oh shit! After word gets out about the six women, people will panic.”
“Exactly! The governor will involve the national guard. The FBI will want to take over the case.”
Anders opened one of his desk drawers, glancing at Brett. “Where are your Tums?”
“Top drawer. Left side. Do you want me to talk to Allen—try to get him to call it off?”
Anders rolled his eyes. “Of course I want you to call him. Do whatever it takes to keep him quiet—as long as it’s legal.”
Dragos grinned. “I can handle Mr. Allen. He will not be a problem for much longer.”
“As much as I would like you to handle it, O’Shea is in charge. I want it done right. No more bodies. Got it?”
Brett and Dragos both nodded. Anders rose and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Brett whipped out his cell and punched in Allen’s number. After three rings, Allen’s squeaky voice answered. He quickly hit the speaker so Dragos could hear.
“O’Shea. I wondered when you would get around to calling,” Allen quipped. “I take it you heard about the press conference.”
Allen’s voice hit a nerve. Brett needed to play nice when all he wanted to do was kick Allen’s ass.
“What do you hope to gain from all of this? You’re creating a fuckin’ circus.”
“Tsk, tsk, Detective. I warned you weeks ago. I know that you and the department are covering up something. It’s time for the public to know so they can protect themselves.”
