I felt doubly sickened tonight by the fact that I’d disappointed the relative I trusted most of all, and that disappointment was compounded by anger at Ethan. I wasn’t especially surprised, because I’d predicted right down the line exactly what would happen. But I was furious that my grandfather’s reputation had been impugned, and that we’d put that look in his eyes. And Jeff didn’t look so happy, either.
“Would you like to tell me exactly what happened here?”
“Words,” Ethan said. “Only an exchange of words.”
For the first time, Jeff spoke, and his tone wasn’t any more pleasant than my grandfather’s. “Nothing physical?”
“No,” Ethan said ruefully. “I didn’t get that far. The cops showed up first.”
“He told them we were stalking and threatening him,” I explained.
Jeff and my grandfather exchanged a glance.
“Reed’s already called the CPD once,” my grandfather said. “That adds credence to his contention this is a pattern of bad behavior.” He looked at Ethan. “Did you come here specifically to piss him off? Specifically to get arrested? Because if that was your plan, I’d say you accomplished it.”
“We had our reasons,” Ethan said.
My grandfather lifted his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.
“He sent her a note,” Ethan finally said. “A threatening note.”
“A direct threat?”
“Implicit.”
My grandfather didn’t roll his eyes, but that looked like a close call. “Goading you to act, just as you’ve done?”
“I did what I thought was best.”
My grandfather sighed, patted Ethan’s arm. “I don’t doubt that, son, but there are times to fight, and times to wait. This was one of the latter.”
There was something odd about my grandfather, a man in his seventies, referring to a four-hundred-year-old vampire as “son.” But the dynamic worked.
“You know this is part of a bigger plan,” Ethan insisted.
“I know what kind of man Reed is, and I’m not alone. There are others on the force—Detective Jacobs, for one—who agree with us, who understand. But, by God, you’re playing right into his hands. You’re proving the point he’s apparently decided to make—that he’s a businessman who’s doing right by this city, and you’re unstable monsters with a personal vendetta. You’re too smart for antics like this, and I’d say the same thing about your trip to Hellriver last night.”
“We wanted to get out before the CPD arrived,” Ethan said.
My grandfather looked dubious. “While I’m sure that was part of the motivation, I doubt that was all of it.”
Ethan had to know my grandfather was goading him to answer, but he obliged. “I was hoping Cyrius Lore would get away, tell Reed.”
“You thought you’d provoke him to act.”
“I want him to come at me.” Ethan pushed his hands through his hair. “I want him to come at me like a man with some courage.”
“And there’s the fault in your logic,” my grandfather said. “A man like Reed doesn’t have courage, not in the way you mean. He has soldiers. He has men who fight his battles for him.”
Ethan took a slow, heavy breath. “It was my call, not hers, and I take responsibility for it.”
My grandfather nodded, acknowledging the admission, then looked at me. “You’re unusually quiet.”
Because I was seething with anger. But there was nothing to gain in airing that anger in front of Jeff and my grandfather.
I settled on “It’s been a long night.”
My grandfather watched me for a moment before nodding. He could probably read my face, understood Ethan and I would have words later.
“Did you find anything in Hellriver?” Ethan asked, bringing my grandfather’s attention back to him.
“No. They’d cleared out the entire building other than a few pieces of furniture. If there was anything that tied the building to Reed, it was gone by the time we got there.”
“Damn,” Ethan said. “There’d been file boxes in the dock area. Dozens of them. Merit had suspected it was paperwork, maybe records of improper business dealings by Reed.”
My grandfather’s eyebrows lifted. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you that we might have gotten to it if you’d phoned us earlier.”
“You do not,” Ethan said. “That was also my call.”
“Next time,” my grandfather said, “make better calls.”
The cops walked back to us again. “Mr. Merit, we need to get these two to the station, get them processed. You know how it goes.” The CPD might have given my grandfather some deference, but we were still criminals.
“I do,” my grandfather said, then glanced at Ethan. “I’ll warn Malik. And have them put the House on alert. Just in case.”
? ? ?
We were driven to the nearest station in the back of a cruiser, processed, and separated, stuck in separate rooms for interviews.
My room was small, with a hard tile floor and a small table with four chairs. The wall beside the door was mirrored. Probably two-way glass so people in the hallway could look in on the woman in the fancy party dress who was mentally kicking her boyfriend.
I was a well-dressed cautionary tale.