Blood Secrets

six



IN THE CONVERTED RECREATIONAL VEHICLE THAT WAS one of the FBPI’s three mobile forensics labs, Alex sat at a small table in the rear section that served as a tiny lounge and sleeping area. Other sections of the forty-foot RV housed an on-site command center with satellite links to the Bureau’s main lab in Louisville. Separate areas for processing firearms, narcotics, fingerprints, audio/visual, and questionable documents completed the mobile lab’s complement of workstations.

Alex brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and glanced at the stacks of boxes crammed into the tiny space. Plastic bins containing bags of items from Mindy Johnson’s car and dorm room surrounded her while she sifted through reports, transcripts of conversations, and evidence documentation. She’d been poring over the information for hours, trying to absorb as much of it as possible, but the memory of her early morning vision continued to intrude upon her thoughts.

She focused on the preliminary report of the bloodstains found on Mindy’s passenger seat, but her gaze drifted to the large brown paper bag containing the doll. Forcing herself to look away, she sighed and used her hand to both prop up her head and shield the bag from view.

The report showed the blood was definitely human. The type matched that on file for Mindy with the Central Donor Registry, but it would take much longer to run a complete profile comparison. For now, they were working on the assumption that the blood was Mindy’s.

She skimmed through the list of items taken from the girl’s dorm room: syringes, flexible latex tubing, alcohol swabs, an open pack of condoms, a date book, and a journal. Other items were listed as well, but the date book and journal piqued her curiosity. She rummaged through the plastic bins spread over the table to locate them. She found the date book but the journal wasn’t there.

Alex glanced around the lab and spotted Freddy hunched over a microscope. “Hey, Freddy.”

“Yeah, boss?” he asked, his eyes still trained on whatever he had under the scope.

“Any idea where this journal, Item Fourteen, is?”

He looked up and frowned. “It’s not in the bins?”

“No.”

“It should be there.” He joined her, pulling off his latex gloves and tossing them into a large trash can. He poked around in the same boxes she’d searched, and scratched his head. “No one’s touched these since yesterday except to add what we picked up from the car this morning.”

“It’s not here.”

“Reyes,” Freddy called to his lab partner. “Do you have Item Fourteen?”

“Nope,” Reyes responded without taking his eyes off the computer screen in front of him.

“Could someone have checked it out?” Alex asked.

“If they did, they would’ve signed it out in the catalog.” He pulled out a small binder and flipped through the pages, shaking his head. “No one signed for it. Maybe Varik took it with him and forgot to sign.”

Alex shook her head. “Why would he take evidence with him on a coffee run?”

“Good point.” Freddy sighed. “Well, it has to be here somewhere.” He began searching through more bins.

She glanced at her watch as she stood up to help. Varik had left nearly an hour ago on a mission to get what he considered “proper coffee” for the lab. The generic store brand Freddy and Reyes consumed by the pot wasn’t good enough for him. Even when they were engaged, he’d insisted on buying whole beans and grinding them himself.

Alex smiled with the memory. She wasn’t picky about her caffeine source, but even with Varik’s snobbishness, it shouldn’t take an hour to buy coffee, not in a town as small as Jefferson.

Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony sounded from her pocket. She pulled her cell phone free and checked the caller ID before answering. “Sabian.”

“Where the hell are you?” Tasha asked without preamble. “The coroner is here as well as the tow truck. Tony is already processing the car. What is taking you so long?”

“I’m at the mobile lab, and what the hell are you talking about? What car?”

“One of the owners at Coone’s Pull-n-Go called in a report of a suspicious vehicle this morning. I came out to follow up after leaving the Johnsons’, checked the car, and found a body in the trunk. I think it may be Mindy.”

“Ah, shit.” Alex surged past a startled Freddy and headed for the exit. “I’m on my way.”

“Enforcer Sabian!”

She whirled to face Freddy as she ended the call with Tasha.

“What should I do about the journal?”

“Find it.” She bounded down the steps and hit the pavement running. Rounding the front of the RV, she slammed into a very large warm body. “F*cking hell!”

“Nice to see you, too, Enforcer Sabian,” Damian Alberez rumbled.

Alex dropped back a few paces. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.” She glanced at the woman standing beside Damian. “Sir.”

“Going somewhere?” Damian asked.

“A body’s been discovered. I’m on my way to—” She remembered her Jeep was still parked in front of her temporary hotel home and inwardly groaned. “—call Enforcer Baudelaire.”

The woman stepped closer to Damian. “Is the scene secure?”

“Yes, but—”

“If the situation is under control, and since you can’t possibly be the primary investigator, I’m certain it can wait a few moments,” the woman murmured.

Alex’s temper flared. “And just who the hell are you?”

“Enforcer Alexandra Sabian, meet Morgan Dreyer, Special Investigator to the Tribunal,” Damian said.

Morgan smiled, revealing sharp white fangs, and Alex’s anger withered.

“Where’s the scene?” Damian asked.

“Coone’s Pull-n-Go Salvage. The body could be Mindy Johnson.”

“Who made the discovery?” Morgan asked.

“Lieutenant Tasha Lockwood of the Jefferson police, but she hasn’t been able to reach Varik and—”

“That would be Varik Baudelaire, Director of Special Operations?”

The way Morgan almost purred when she said Varik’s name caused a rush of possessiveness to sweep over Alex. She fought the urge to grab the dark brunette braid that snaked around the other woman’s shoulder and ram her head into the front of the mobile lab. Physically assaulting the Tribunal’s Special Investigator wouldn’t help Alex’s corruption case nor would it help her get to the salvage yard. She managed to keep her emotions in check, but unable to trust herself to speak, she simply nodded.

“Chief Alberez.”

Damian swiveled to face Morgan with a carefully maintained façade of neutrality.

“I believe this would be an excellent opportunity for me to observe Enforcer Sabian in the field.”

“What?” Alex scoffed.

“As part of my investigation, I’m required to monitor you in the field,” Morgan said. “My observations of how well you follow proper procedure are reported to the Tribunal and will be used in their accounting of your guilt or innocence.”

Alex looked to Damian. “Please tell me she’s not serious.”

He glared at her.

“This is the biggest crock of shit—”

Damian clamped his hand on her shoulder and spun her, herding her around the side of the mobile lab. “Excuse us,” he grumbled to Morgan. “I need a word with Enforcer Sabian in private.”

Alex tried to keep in step with him but found it hard when his tight grip on the collar of her jacket kept threatening to lift her feet from the ground.

They moved past the midway point of the forty-foot-long RV and he finally released her, shoving her back against the cold metal siding. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“At the moment I figure I’m getting my ass chewed.”

“Don’t get cute.” He folded his arms in front of him and gave her his best impression of a pissed-off boulder. “I swear you sound more like Varik every f*cking day.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know better than to provoke someone like Morgan.”

Alex readjusted her jacket and checked the position of the silver badge clipped to her jeans’s waistband. “Does she really have to shadow me in the field? I thought the Tribunal was only interested in my past cases.”

“They were, until you were reinstated. They’re not going to pass up the opportunity to have firsthand observation of your methods. You can thank Baudelaire for screwing you on that.”

“I will.” She cracked her knuckles. “Trust me.”

“Where is he?”

She shrugged. “He left over an hour ago to get coffee. Tasha said she called him but he isn’t answering his phone. I was going to try reaching him through the bond.”

“He hasn’t checked in?”

“No, but that’s not unusual. If something were seriously wrong, I would’ve sensed it. He’s just ignoring Tasha for some reason.”

“Find out what the hell he’s doing and then the two of you get your asses out to that salvage yard.”

“Anything else?”

“Just remember Varik is primary. Work clean. Follow his directions. I’ll put my foot up your ass if you screw up this inquiry and get yourself killed.”

“Gee, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Cut the attitude,” he said softly. “And don’t antagonize Morgan like you do Varik.”

“I do not antagonize Varik! He bugs the crap out of me!”

“He bugs the crap out of everyone.” He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Take care of yourself. I don’t want to be the one to bear bad news to Emily again.”

Alex watched him leave. She wasn’t sure what to make of his parting remark. Again? When had he delivered bad news to her mother in the past? Alex had been the one to find her father’s staked and decapitated body in the cemetery near their home, so Damian couldn’t have meant that.

She checked her watch. Where the hell was Varik?

As she dropped the shields protecting her mind from Varik’s, Morgan rounded the corner of the lab. “Enforcer Sabian, a moment, please.”

Alex swallowed the smart-ass retort that was her first instinct and recovered her mental barriers. “Of course.”

“I want it to be perfectly clear that I’m here at the request of the Tribunal. I could care less about who your father was and I’m not here to be friends.”

“Damn, and I was hoping we could go shopping later.” She knew the statement was a mistake as soon as Morgan’s hazel eyes narrowed.

“This sort of flippant attitude makes me wonder if you’re capable of being an effective Enforcer.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“You turned rogue. That speaks volumes.”

“Let’s get something straight right now.” Alex stepped close, her words a low hiss. “I don’t like you, and I don’t give a shit what you, or the Tribunal, think about me. Right now, my concern is Mindy Johnson and giving her family some closure. If I clear my name in the process, so be it, but the girl comes first.”

Morgan held her ground. “We’ll see if you still feel that way once the Tribunal convenes next month.”

Alex stalked away, no longer caring if Morgan shadowed her. It was common for Internal Affairs Special Investigators to goad the object of their scrutiny to elicit a reaction, to provoke them into showing a weakness. She’d shown she had a temper. If she wasn’t careful, Morgan could easily paint her as a loose cannon to the Tribunal and that would be all the justification they needed to retire her.

Permanently.

Varik sat in a back corner booth at Mug Shots, Jefferson’s only gourmet coffee shop, and watched as a curvy blond woman settled onto the bench seat across from him. The overhead lamps caught the silver highlights in her curls but cast shadows under her clear blue eyes. Once she’d settled, he reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “Thanks for meeting me on short notice.”

Emily Sabian nodded and gave his hand a friendly squeeze. “You said it was urgent, that Alex had a vision.”

He nodded and sipped his black coffee. “We were on-scene. She picked up some evidence and the vision hit her. Hard.”

“Is she all right?”

“She will be, but …” Now that he sat face-to-face with Emily, he wasn’t certain if he was doing the right thing. Did Alex’s mother really need to know about the vision?

Of course she did, he argued with himself. Emily had to know. If the truth came out now with Alex facing the Tribunal, the repercussions could devastate the Sabian family as well as cast the Bureau into chaos.

“Varik?” Emily touched his arm. “What happened to Alex? What did she see?”

“Bernard. He was with Siobhan.”

His words didn’t seem to register at first and then realization made the color drain from her face. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, taking a series of deep breaths. Her words were muffled when she spoke. “Did Alex recognize her?”

“No, she said she couldn’t see the woman’s face.”

Emily raised her head. “That’s good.”

“How is that good? She’s going to figure out that Bernard cheated on you, that it wasn’t just some random vision.”

“As long as she doesn’t know it was Siobhan, everything will be fine.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. Alex and I are bond-mates. If she has another vision like that, she’s going to know I’m lying to her.”

“No, she can’t find out about Siobhan. Bernard was adamant that Alex never know of the affair.”

“And I’m telling you that she’s going to find out sooner or later.”

Emily sighed and began twisting the gold band encircling her left ring finger. They sat in silence for several minutes before she finally spoke, her voice pitched low. “Bernard and I hit a rough patch in our marriage about a year before Alex was born. What caused the split isn’t important anymore. The affair only lasted a few months and then Bernard came to his senses and came home. He and I made up and were very happy until the day he was killed.”

When she leveled her gaze on him, her blue eyes were a pale shade of gold, like sunlight filtered through autumn leaves. “You were Bernard’s partner for a long time, and he thought of you like a second son.”

Varik looked out the coffee house’s large window and watched the traffic passing by on Jefferson Boulevard.

“I’m asking you—begging you—to bury your knowledge of Bernard and Siobhan deep in yourself.”

He focused on her again. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Varik, please …”

“I understand your desire to follow Bernard’s wishes, Emily. Hell, I certainly don’t want to hurt Alex. She idolized her father—still does—but there is no way Bernard could’ve foreseen any of this, regardless of his Talent.”

“But he did foresee that Alex would face the Tribunal. He said if she faced the Tribunal ignorant of his past as a Hunter-Talent, as well as of Siobhan, then she would be exonerated.”

“Visions change. They’re nothing more than educated guesses based on current circumstances. Replace one element and the entire pattern alters.”

“He saw it, Varik, and he said—”

“He also saw himself at the Tribunal with Alex. That’s not likely to happen now, is it?”

Emily drew back as if he’d slapped her.

“I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand, and she pulled away. “That came out wrong.”

“I should go.” She began gathering her things.

“Wait, please.”

She slipped out of the booth and shouldered her purse.

Varik stood and grabbed her arm. “Don’t leave. Not like this.”

“Please remove your hand, Enforcer Baudelaire.”

He released her. “Emily, I’m sorry. Please—”

“Thank you for telling me about Alex’s vision. Please let me know if she has any more.” She hurried away and this time he didn’t try to stop her.

The blood-bond suddenly opened and Alex’s voice whispered in his mind. Turn your f*cking cell phone on, jackass.

What’s wrong?

Tasha thinks she may have found Mindy Johnson’s body.

“F*ck.” His troubles with Emily would have to wait. He grabbed his jacket, tossed the rest of his coffee into the trash, and sprinted for his Corvette.

* * *

The campus of Nassau County Community College was abuzz with news about the discovery of Mindy Johnson’s car. Kirk lounged on top of a concrete bench outside the Union Center, the hub of campus life, and listened to the gossip floating up from adjacent tables.

“I heard the vamps found her severed hands in the glove box,” one pampered-princess coed told a small group and then nodded sagely when they gasped in melodramatic horror.

“A guy in my econ class said it was her head,” another contradicted.

“Don’t be stupid,” the first said. “You couldn’t fit her big head in a glove box. Besides, I learned about this sort of thing in my psych class. It’s called …” Her mouth worked but no sounds came forth and she finally heaved a disgusted sigh. “It doesn’t matter what it’s called but just think about it. Hands in a glove box—it’s so sick.”

Kirk chuckled and turned a page of the book he was pretending to read. The princess table moved their conversation to the upcoming formal dance, and he in turn shifted his focus to another table.

“… heard she was involved with drugs or something,” a mousy-haired girl said, pushing her glasses higher on her upturned nose.

“Yeah, she was gonna snitch on somebody on campus,” said a boy dressed in the baggy clothing favored by skaters. “But it wasn’t drugs she was into. It was blood.”

Kirk glanced at the group over his sunglasses and shifted his position so as to better hear their conversation.

“Blood?” a girl with purple-streaked hair asked. “You’re full of shit. She wasn’t no vamp!”

“No, but she was selling it,” the skater boy replied. “I heard there’s someone on campus running some kind of black market blood ring. Vamps are having a hard time finding legal blood since Crimson Swan got torched. I heard you can make a helluva lot of cash.”

“Like how much?” the mousy girl asked.

The skater boy shrugged. “A lot if you’re willing to let the vamp actually bite you, more if you let ’em do it during sex. I heard Mindy had a couple thousand bucks in her car.”

The girls exclaimed their disbelief, and Kirk closed the book, grabbed his backpack beside the bench, and stalked away. Since Crimson Swan, the only legal blood bar in Jefferson, was destroyed he’d seen a marked increase in his business but that wouldn’t account for the sudden glut of information available among the student population. Someone was talking too much, and he had a suspicion that someone was Piper.

The little whore never could keep her mouth shut.

It probably wasn’t wise to recruit on campus, but college kids had the two requirements he most valued: a need for cash and a desire to do whatever it took to obtain it.

He wouldn’t take on just anyone though. His clientele were selective and so was he. Unlike some of his more equal-opportunity-minded competition, Kirk specialized in “blood bunnies”—young women who were willing to share both their blood and their bodies. Nothing got the blood pumping like a good f*ck, and blood always tasted better when combined with the sweet endorphin rush that was sex.

Clients called him to arrange for a bunny suiting their tastes. Payment was handled electronically and then he sent the girls on their way. Once the meeting was complete and the client was satisfied, he gave the girls five to ten percent of the payment, depending on how well she performed. Any cash tips they received from the client were theirs to keep.

The best part was that he didn’t have to answer to the Central Donor Registry bureaucrats. No licenses meant no overhead, such as rent or insurance, and no overhead meant more profit.

But his profit margin would vanish if he didn’t plug the information leak, and soon.

Kirk entered one of the classroom buildings and dashed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, to the second floor. Piper’s class would be ending in a few minutes. He wanted to be certain she understood the risks they both faced if word of his operation should reach the Enforcers.

As he strode down the hall, a door at the end opened and bleary-eyed students shambled from the room. He placed himself along the wall opposite the door and waited.

Piper was one of the last students out of the room, and she stopped in her tracks when she saw him. A male student talking with the instructor ran into her from behind. Amid a flurry of halfhearted apologies to the instructor and other student, she timidly crossed the hall to join Kirk.

He waited for the hall to clear and then seized her arm.

“What did I do?” she whined as he shoved her into the now-empty classroom.

Kirk closed the door and turned off the lights so the only illumination came from the miniblind-encased windows at the rear of the room. “People know.”

“About what?”

“My business. Now, how do you suppose they know about it?”

Piper shrugged.

The back of his hand smacked her cheek. “I asked you a question.”

Struggling to hold back tears, she shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“Someone is talking,” he said quietly, closing the distance between them. “Someone who shouldn’t be talking.” He gripped her jaw, digging his fingers into her flesh, and forced her to look at him. “I wonder who.”

Realization dawned in her tear-filled eyes. “It wasn’t me,” she whispered. She clutched at his shirt. “I swear! I’ve been careful.”

“If the Enforcers find out what we’re doing, they’ll send me away—”

“No! They can’t!”

“—and then they’ll turn you over to the human authorities. You’ll sit in prison for the rest of your life, lumped in with the whores.”

She sobbed and buried her face against his chest.

He rolled his eyes. Piper’s capacity for easy manipulation never ceased to amaze him.

“I’ll find out who’s spreading the rumors.” Her voice was muffled until she raised her head to stare at him. “I swear. Just promise me you won’t let me go to jail if something should happen. I can’t live without you.”

Kirk gave her a wan smile and brushed away her tears. He gently kissed her lips and enfolded her in his arms. “I promise you’ll never see the inside of a jail cell.”

She clung to him in the semidarkness while he held her and thought of all the places he could stash her body once she was of no further use.