Blood Red (11 page)

She opened her mouth to speak and the phone rang. The idea of his wife grabbing the phone to speak to the man blackmailing him for screwing college trim on the side sent Brian Freemont leaping across the room. The end table with the phone was next to Angie’s right hand. He knocked her arm out of the way as he grabbed the receiver.

“Hello?” Angie shot him a murderous glance and he in turn looked as apologetic as he could.

“Officer Freemont?”

“Yes, this is me.”

“One second.” He could hear the man moving through the underbrush. “How many boxes did you put out here?”

“Four. They should all be together.” This was the moment he needed to worry about the most. He chewed on his lip and did his best not to sound too stressed.

Everything depended on the caller taking the boxes with him.

“I see four boxes; we’re off to a good start here, Officer. Hold on for me.”

“Of course.” Angie was standing now, her face set into an ugly expression of hatred and disappointment. Brian felt like a slug. He was responsible for everything and he knew it, but he was also trying to make it all right again. If she would let him, and the little bastard would take the bait.

“I have the packages. If everything checks out, you will have your life back in two hours.”

“I understand, thank you.”

“Officer? Do I have to explain what will happen if you try to pull a fast one?”

“No, of course not.”

“Have a good night.”

Brian hung up the phone and looked at Angie. “That was the bank. Everything is settled.”

“Seriously?” She smiled a tentative, nervous little smile. Her face was suddenly beautiful again.

“Yeah, babe. Seriously, it’s all taken care of.” He moved to her and she hugged him tightly, awkwardly shifting a bit to protect their unborn child. That thought suddenly filled him with wonder. He had a child coming into the world. A new life that was forming in the belly of the woman he’d married and promised to love, honor, and respect.

Something had to change. He knew that. He just didn’t want it to. He liked his secret life, and he liked the power to screw with girls’ minds and leave them worrying.

He didn’t want to give that up.

So, of course, he had made proper provisions.

For the next hour or so, he was going to stay home. Then he would go back to the car and find his little Radio Shack tracking device, the one he’d slipped into the cardboard box that was probably being carried away right now.

And then he would make good and damned sure that someone never messed with him again.

Angie kissed his mouth and he kissed back, remembering all the reasons that he loved her. She was sore and pregnant, and she still wanted him.

Really, that was all he’d ever wanted out of life, to be needed. And if he was getting a little on the side, it was just gravy.

They made love, carefully, but they made love. This was different. Angie was special. She wasn’t like the girls he spent time with. She didn’t cry when it was happening, or when it was over.

Avery Tripp slipped out of the house as carefully as he could. The folks were still busy “talking,” which made it a little easier. Talking was what they called it whenever they needed down time and decided to close the bedroom door. He had no idea what they were up to, but it left Dad in a good mood, so it couldn’t be a bad thing.

The yard was dark, but the lawn was so precisely mowed it could have been done by the barber that handled his crew cut, so he wasn’t worried. Besides, he knew the way to Teddy’s place like the back of his hand.

Teddy left school early and he hated when that happened. His best friend was his main reason for going to school in the first place. Okay, and because his folks would boil him in oil if he didn’t. But mainly it was because Teddy was there and he was cool to hang around with.

The road was well-lit and the lawns on either side of him offered exactly enough bushes—because the people here liked their privacy—to let him move toward the Lister place without any fear of being discovered.

He saw the crows looking down at him and stopped in his tracks. They were everywhere, great skulking black shadows that moved and from time to time chattered softly to each other.

Mostly they just looked at him. Avery looked back, smiling at the gathering. What was it Dad said they were called when they were all together like that? “A murder of crows,” he said, savoring the title. He liked the sound of that.

The birds didn’t intimidate him; they were just birds. So Avery started down the way again, listening for cars and minding his own business. Jayce Thornton was playing havoc with his thoughts lately. She was cute. He liked her. He also knew that if she spoke to him, he would explode into flames.

The last time she’d talked to him had been to see if she could borrow his notes after she had to stay home for a day. He’d had to write them up for her, because he could barely even read his own handwriting on the originals, and he’d been drawing stuff all along the edges. Nothing dirty, just things he didn’t want anyone to see.

These days he always made a copy of his notes, just in case. Funny thing about that: His grades had gotten way better ever since he had decided to make copies. If there was a connection, he refused to see it.

“It’s rather late to be out by yourself, don’t you think?” The voice belonged to a stranger, and Avery froze in his tracks. He looked around and saw the man a moment later, but he almost had to strain to make him out.

Dark black clothes hid most of his body, and heavy shadows obscured a good part of his face. But he was smiling pleasantly enough.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” It was a good line to use when he was nervous. The man made him want to run screaming.

“Yes. I think maybe you’re not supposed to be out walking alone this time of night, either.”

Okay. The guy had him dead to rights on that one.

The stranger held out one hand and Avery watched as two of the crows on the phone lines above his head lowered like leaves in a graceful fall, to settle on the man’s opened palm and forearm. “Where are you going so late in the evening, my young friend?”

“Whoa! How did you do that?” Avery forgot himself and talked far louder than he meant to, the excitement of watching the crows taking away his fear of being busted.

“They’re friendly birds when you know how to talk to them. Would you like to hold one?”

“Can I?” He walked forward and held out his hand, reaching eagerly.

“Carefully. They are easily startled. They must come to you; you must not come to them.”

Avery nodded and stopped, holding his hand like he’d seen the man do before. “What makes them so nervous?”

“Look at yourself. You are as big as twenty of them. How would you feel if a giant reached out to grab you without warning?” The man’s eyes looked into his, amusement emphasizing the light crow’s feet around the dark pupils. Then he moved his hand closer to Avery’s and the crow bobbed its head three times before walking sullenly over to stand on Avery’s palm. The feet were cold and black; he felt the pinpoints of the claws where they pinched his hand.

Avery stared, amazed by the bird now in his hand. The crow craned its head around and looked at him with one glossy black eye.

“Can I keep him, mister?”

The man laughed lightly and shook his head. “He is not to be kept, my friend. He is too wild for that. He must live his own life or he will never be happy.”

Avery understood the concept, but wasn’t thrilled by the news. He would have loved having a crow as a pet. How cool would that be?

The stranger lifted his hand and the crow that had been perched there flew into the air, powerful wings lifting it back to the perch it had previously abandoned. The bird in Avery’s hand fidgeted a bit and danced from foot to foot for a moment. Then it took off, the wings almost striking his face before it was airborne.

Avery turned to thank the man who’d shown him the crows, but when he looked, there was no sign that he had ever been there. He frowned, and was about to call out when the hands caught him around the throat and lifted him from the ground.

Avery couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, and his feet kicked at the man again and again, but seemed to have absolutely no impact.

“Shhh . . . Avery Tripp. You and the crows will be good friends, I think.”

The world faded away, lost in a darkness that was filled with the rustle of black feathers.

“Have you ever seen so many birds?” Ben looked around the car in wonder, a smile playing at his lips. He was a great big kid in a lot of ways.

Maggie stood nearby, holding the last of the boxes. He took it from her and set it next to the car, then reached into a box he had brought with him. Aside from the gloves both of them wore, the box also held a small meter of some kind.

“What’s that?” She sounded amused, and he was glad she was having fun.

“This is an electromagnetic emanation detector.” He put on a deep scholarly voice for her.

“A what?” She was smiling and looking at him with those amazing eyes.

“It checks for radio waves and other stuff.”

“What? You think he bugged you?”

He looked right back at her, his smile fading a bit. “I would. If someone was screwing with me this way, I most certainly would.”

“You really think so?” He couldn’t tell if she was thinking about it or doubting his sanity.

“I’ve made threats against him. He’s a cop. And he’s not a very nice cop. I don’t want to take any chances.” He shrugged, trying to tell himself it didn’t matter if she thought he was loony.

“See? That’s smart. I wouldn’t have thought about it.”

He turned on the meter and ran it carefully over each of the boxes. The first two were clean. The third gave off a signal. He found the source and pulled a small transmitter out of the edge, frowning at it. Not a lot of range, but it would do if the man using it was careful.

“Bastard,” he was laughing as he said it.

“You’re not upset?”

“No. It’s like chess. Only he doesn’t know all the rules.”

“Yeah? Like what?” She moved closer, and he showed her the small tracking device.

“Like I don’t play nicely.” He moved the device over to a different part of the parking area, placing it into a knothole in one of the trees.

“Should I call him now? Or make him wait?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, actually looking indignant. “Call his ass and break his balls.” He blinked and smiled. He wasn’t used to her using vulgarity. Then again, he wasn’t used to her. It was nice new territory to explore.

“Okay. You win.”

He picked up the phone he’d been using earlier and dialed the number for the man’s house again.

The phone rang seven times before Brian Freemont answered. He didn’t sound at all happy about the interruption.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Officer Freemont. I found your tracking device. Now you get to wait at least one more day before I give you back your life. Don’t write any checks.”

He turned off the phone and put it back into his pocket.

Maggie was smiling at him, her eyes alight with amusement. “You’re a very bad man, Ben. Very bad.”

“Yeah, well, I have my moments.”

They left the boxes behind, taking only the evidence packages that they held.

All the way back to the apartments, Maggie kept giving him the strangest looks. He didn’t know why, but he rather liked it.

Tom Pardue was high on life. He always got that way when he knew he was going to have a good time with someone. Right now he was going to have a party all over Maggie Preston. She was a fine-looking girl, she really was, but she’d been playing games and thinking it wouldn’t get back to him.

She was supposed to be handling situations with Lance Brewster, and he’d just gotten another call from a long-term client who was not at all happy with the lack of attention he was getting. That wasn’t acceptable. She knew the score: He let her
think
she was something special. He made sure she got the nonviolent johns who weren’t too freaky, because she earned the money. He gave her name to only the best clientele, because she was damned good at her job. She’d told him a few things back in the day about being double-jointed and a gymnast. Until she’d proved to him how much difference that could make, he could have cared less. She could also do things with her mouth to make a man cry. She could unhinge her jaw, for God’s sake! On the day he decided to give her a test session, she’d swallowed him whole and then kept him at the edge of orgasm for over an hour. Maggie could tease mercilessly and have a man begging for release. That was why she was so popular. She could also get into the most incredible positions he’d ever experienced. But that didn’t mean she was in charge of her own destiny or any of that other shit she liked to spew from time to time. In the long run she was just another piece of ass, and she was his to do with as he pleased. She was a hooker who had a few special talents; it didn’t make her the queen of the universe, it just made her a good commodity. If she wanted to believe she was something more than that, he could correct her ideas.

Maybe it was time to stop being so nice about how he treated her. Maybe if he gave her a few sessions like he’d given Lizzie earlier, she’d remember who was in charge of her fucking destiny.

So he was waiting around for her to show her little ass at her little apartment. Then, if she got bitchy, he was going to explain everything nicely, exactly one more time. If it was twice, he’d break her in half.

That was before she came into the courtyard of her place with some little yuppie fuck, carrying a bunch of white bags and laughing like she didn’t have a care in the whole world.

Seeing her and her boyfriend just made the whole of his day better. She hadn’t been producing as well as she should for almost a week, and now he knew why.