The Vampire Hunters (Book 2): Vampyrnomicon (16 page)

Jim went back to filling 12-guage rounds. “What can I do for you?”

“I just came up to say hello and to see what you were working on.”

“No offense, but Drake’s usually the one who shows an interest in what I’m working on.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sorry. I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you feel you could come to me.” Jim stopped working to give Alison his undivided attention. “Let me guess. Jessica?”

“How’d you know?”

“She’s been a distraction for Drake for close to two weeks now. We nearly got killed rescuing her. But I have a feeling your complaint with her is more personal.”

“When I went to pick up Drake yesterday, I found Blondie there. She’d spent the night.”

“You like Drake, don’t you?”

Alison did not answer. “What does Drake see in her?”

“Maybe it’s not what he sees in her, but what he doesn’t see in you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re prettier, smarter, and a lot tougher than Jessica.”

“So then why isn’t Drake interested in me?”

“Let me ask you a question. Have you told Drake how you feel about him?”

Alison shook her head. “I’m afraid it would hurt our friendship.”

“Maybe that’s why he hasn’t asked you out.”

Alison mentally kicked herself for missing the obvious. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s because when it comes to Drake, you’re thinking with your heart and not with your head. The truth is, I think you guys would make a perfect couple. If you weren’t Drake’s partner, you’d probably be his lover.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes. The down side is if you weren’t Drake’s partner, he’d be dead by now.”

“Thanks.” Alison stepped forward and hugged Jim, then gave him a friendly kiss on the forehead. She broke the embrace and started to walk away when she said as an afterthought, “Any idea when Drake’s coming in?”

“I’m not sure. He has to go out to Reagan National later today to pick up his professor friend.”

“You mean Reese?”

“Yeah, that sounds right. Do you know him?”

“I know of him, but I’ve never met him.”

Alison did not like this at all. If Reese was coming to Washington to visit Drake, then that meant their hunts would be taking on a whole new dimension.

*     *     *

Roach closed his
eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to work out the migraine spreading behind his eyes. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, though. His migraines had been coming with greater frequency and greater intensity. Lately, they had become a way of life. At this rate, he wouldn’t make it to retirement. On the plus side, at least this migraine did not have Drake Matthews written all over it.

Preston sat in the chair opposite Roach’s desk. He looked up from reading Rodriguez’ report of yesterday’s raid on the row house. “Do you need an aspirin?”

“It won’t do any good. I can tell this is going to be one of those long-term migraines.”

“What caused it?”

“That.” Roach opened his eyes and pointed to the report Preston held in his hands.

“But there’s nothing in it.”

“That’s the problem.” Roach slowly sat upright in his chair so as not to spike the pain. “We bring half our force down there, shoot up the neighborhood, nearly burn out the row house, and found nothing.”

“What’s the big deal?” Preston folded the front pages of the report back into place and dropped it on the chief’s desk. “The squatters may have been junkies, but they weren’t stupid. After they attacked the sewer worker, they figured we’d come after them, so they moved out before we got there.”

“Then who fired on us from inside the row house?”

“We’re assuming those were gunshots. None of our officers reported being shot at.”

“Then what made those sounds?”

“Does it matter? Other than that one junkie who jumped to her death and combusted, no one came out of the row house, and there was no one inside when we went in. Which means no one else could have been inside. Unless they just disappeared.” Preston’s voice trailed off on the last word, as if he suddenly thought of something contradictory.

Roach did not notice. “Something just doesn’t seem right about the whole thing.”

“Then the only explanation is that Rodriguez is lying.”

“Why do you say that?”

“If someone escaped from that row house, they didn’t come out the front or back doors. That leaves the tunnel in the basement.”

Roach considered the possibility, but only for moment. He shook his head. “No. Rodriguez is a good cop. If he says nothing came down that tunnel, I believe him.”

“Then quit complaining. You entered a shithouse and came out smelling like roses. No casualties. No incidents. The local news outlets are praising you for how you handled this situation. Even
The Standard
had nothing but good things to say about you. This turned out to be a win-win.”

As much as Roach’s pessimistic side hated to admit it, Preston was right. What could easily have been a major fuck-up actually worked in their favor. It had been a long time since the local news was unanimous in its opinion of Roach and the Washington police. Unless, of course, it was to slam him for some perceived deficiency in his duties. However, despite the positive outcome, all Roach could muster was, “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Preston stood and straightened his suit and tie. “Take my advice and bask in the glory while you can. Do you need anything else?”

“Nope. Just go out and make us look good.”

Preston offered a mock salute and left. Roach watched him leave with mixed emotions. Preston could be pompous, arrogant, and self-serving. Yet he also was one of the best public relations men around. Preston could manipulate the media better than anyone he had known in his career. Roach admired and appreciated those skills.

Despite the positive results of yesterday’s raid, Roach felt this high was only temporary, and that things were going to take a turn for the worse sooner rather than later.

*     *     *

The young man
in a three-piece suit paused as he passed Jessica, who was getting onto the elevator. “Good job, Jess.”

“Thanks,” she responded, although she had no idea who had just spoken to her.

It was the third time Jessica had been complimented that morning. She assumed because of her article that ran in the morning edition. So far the comments she received were good. To be honest, she enjoyed basking in the limelight, if even for only a few moments. The opinion she was most concerned about, and the one that mattered most, belonged to Philips.

The elevator stopped on her floor. As the doors slid open, Philips stepped in, nearly colliding with Jessica as she got off. At first she did not recognize him because he smiled. Upon seeing Jessica, he beamed.

“Good morning,” Philips nearly bellowed.

“You’re in a good mood. What happened?” Jessica immediately regretted the way she phrased the question.

Instead of getting mad, Philips laughed. “Walk with me and I’ll tell you.”

Jessica stepped back into the elevator as the doors slid shut. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going see Roberts, our publisher. Seems he got a phone call this morning from Joel Preston.”

“That little toady who works for Roach?”

“That ‘little toady’ called Roberts this morning to thank him for the good coverage.”

Jessica was confused. “Isn’t that unusual?”

“Damn straight.”

The elevator stopped on the top floor. Philips stepped and out and walked down the hall. Jessica sprinted along behind, trying to keep up.

“So then why did Preston call?”

Philips smiled. “The police finally got some good press from us, and Preston is buttering up Roberts to make sure it continues.”

“Will it work?”

“Probably not. If anything, Roberts will dig up something embarrassing just to piss off Preston.” Philips smirked at the thought. “In any case, this is good news for you. You’re getting some good feedback upstairs, which can only help your career.”

Jessica beamed inside. For a moment, she allowed herself to hope that maybe, finally, her career was about to take off. Now that she had proven herself, maybe she would get something substantive for her next assignment.

“So what’s next?”

Philips reached under his business jacket and pulled out a business envelope, which he handed to Jessica. Sticking her little finger under the flap, she ripped open the top of the envelope and removed its contents. She held two pieces of thick paper two inches wide and five inches long. Turning them over, she saw that they were tickets to an exhibit at the Smithsonian titled “The Spanish Inquisition Through the Eyes of Antonio Ferrer.” She looked up at Philips, incredulous, trying to determine if this was a joke.

“You got me doing an art review?”

“Calm down,” said Philips. The two reached the door to Roberts’ suite and stopped. He turned to face Jessica, lowering his voice. “This isn’t just any art exhibit. Roberts’ wife played a huge part in arranging this. It means a lot to him. And he asked that you cover it for the newspaper. You do this for him and you’re pretty much made here.”

All Jessica could think of to say was, “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Roberts. This is another good opportunity for you. Make use of it.” Philips patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later.”

As Philips entered the publisher’s suite, Jessica headed back to her desk. Inside, she soared. Not only had she received kudos from both Philips and the paper’s publisher, she also had been given a second golden opportunity. Not only to cover the exhibit and really impress Roberts, but also, thanks to the second ticket, she had a chance to make a peace offering to Drake, and hopefully get a second date.

*     *     *

Drake watched the
sliding glass doors leading out to the pick-up zone at Reagan National Airport, wondering what took Reese so long. He had tried to arrange it so Reese would be ready when he showed up. Despite confirming the arrival time with the airport and timing it so he would pull up to the pick-up zone twenty minutes later, Reese was a no-show. A State Trooper had moved him along, forcing Drake to circle the airport twice. On the third pass, the Statie was not there, so Drake pulled the midnight-black SUV into a space at the far end of the pick-up zone and shifted into PARK.

Five minutes later, Reese stepped out of the terminal, engaged in an epic struggle with his luggage. An oversized carry-on draped precariously over his right shoulder tilted him off balance. His rolling suitcase seemed to have the same problem and leaned to one side. As he pulled it, the suitcase tipped over, dragging Reese to a halt. When he turned to right it, the carry-on slipped off of his shoulder and fell to the pavement. Reese struggled to put everything back in order.

Drake shifted into DRIVE and cruised down the pick-up zone. As he approached Reese, he beeped the horn. Reese looked up and waved, causing the carry-on to slip off of his shoulder again. Reese hunched over to catch it, bumping and knocking over his suitcase. Shifting into PARK, Drake jumped out.

“Need help with those?” Drake asked good-naturedly.