…
Faith sat back and rubbed her forehead. A vague headache had been nagging at her brain for a couple of hours now. She didn’t think it was anything serious, probably just the result of spending the afternoon deep underground staring at a computer screen.
She’d spent the last two hours reading the level-two file on Christian Roth, which in no way convinced her that Christian Roth was anything other than he seemed, an extremely successful businessman.
Apparently, he was born in the sixties but all his records had been destroyed in a fire. He’d first appeared just over twenty years ago, had bought the building that now housed CR International, and almost overnight, the business had boomed. But that didn’t mean he was a fucking vampire. It probably did mean that he was dodgy or at least paying kickbacks to someone. But if he was, there was no evidence of it.
“CR Investigations,” the section of the company Ryan worked for, did everything from investigative work, to setting up security systems, to providing a private army to anyone who might need one. No hint of anything illegal.
Someone came up beside her. Peering over her shoulder, she found the colonel standing at her back. For some reason, he made her skin crawl. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t like it.
“This is a load of crap,” she muttered. “There’s nothing weird about this guy, except he’s very good at what he does.”
“You don’t find it strange that he has never been seen out in the daytime?”
“Oh yeah, right, because if he did, he’d go up in a puff of smoke. That’s definitely proof. Not.”
“You’re a cynic, Detective.”
“Too right. I work on evidence, and so far, I’ve seen nothing conclusive.”
“Hopefully, tomorrow you’ll have more. I’m clearing it with my superior.”
“You have a superior? I can’t imagine that or at least I’m surprised you admit to it.”
“We all have to answer to someone, Faith.” He leaned over her shoulder, and she had to hold herself still to stop from edging away. “Try comparing the photos we have of Roth,” he suggested.
Faith punched a few keys. There weren’t many photographs, probably because he was pretty much a recluse, rarely seen out in public. And those there were on file were hazy as though he’d somehow shifted at the last second, blurring the picture.
The first was back in the early days when he had shown up. Tall and lean, he towered over the people around him. He wore a dark business suit and even with the bad quality, she could tell he was a stunningly handsome man. But there was nothing weird about him, no horns or a tail, no fangs that she could see.
“Compare it to the latest picture,” the colonel said.
She pulled up the last file and studied it.
“This was taken a few weeks ago. One of the rare sightings of Roth outside his building.”
He was dressed differently. In fact, everything appeared different. In the first photo, he’d worn an aura of respectability. In this last picture, he looked anything but respectable. With a jolt of shock, she realized he reminded her of Ash. Maybe it was that he was dressed the same, black leather pants and a black trench coat that nearly reached the ground. His dark hair was brushed back from his face. A face that appeared identical to the first picture. Not a day older.
“Is it the same person? Maybe a brother?” she asked.
“It’s the same.”
She wanted to ask how he was so sure.
“Even if he’d been only around twenty when the first picture was taken,” the colonel said, “he must be in his midforties by now. Does that man appear to be in his midforties?”
“Botox?” she suggested.
The colonel gave an exaggerated sigh. “What will it take to make you a believer?”
“I don’t think you can.” She thought for a moment and an image of a wall rose up in her mind. She shook it away. “You know how you get religious types who go on about faith and how you know it’s real. Well I feel like that, but the opposite. There’s something inside me. Something that knows it’s all rubbish. God, vampires, demons, angels—crap, the whole lot.”
He shook his head in exasperation. “Why don’t you head home? You look tired and soon we’ll have your clearance and we can show you something that will convince you.”
“Good idea.”
“And, Detective, you need to get into contact with your old partner. Tell him you want to meet up.”
Like hell, she would. But she didn’t say the words out loud. She was quite aware Ryan was the real reason she was here, but no way was she setting him up for these creepy guys.