Blood Red

Chapter 14

Ryan Harper wet himself when the gun pushed up against his face. It was a big gun, and he knew good and fucking well that Tom Pardue would use it on him in a heartbeat if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Tom?” His voice was subdued for obvious reasons. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that all of my money is gone, Ryan.” He’d never seen Pardue looking anywhere near this pissed off. “All of it. I got nothin’ left and I’m feeling a little like killing someone. So you tell me who has my money, and I will pick that person to fucking kill instead of you.”

“Tom, I don’t know who has your money.”

“Listen carefully, Ryan. Listen like your life depended on it.” His teeth were bared and the acne scars on his face were glistening. Pardue’s eyes were wide and furious. “You have five hours to find out who has my money, or I’m going to come back here and make you sorry we ever did business together.”

Tom Pardue was not the smartest man in the world, but he had the good sense to know he wasn’t. Ryan had helped him launder a lot of money over the years and been paid for it. That also meant that Ryan was one of a small handful of people who knew how much Pardue was really worth and who had access to information about where he kept his life savings.

“Tom, listen to me. I didn’t take your money, you know that, okay? I don’t need to take your money and I’m not stupid enough to have you wanting me dead.”

“That’s why you’re still alive, buddy boy. That’s the only fucking reason.” Tom’s eyes were absolutely murderous. “You find out who did. That’s all. You fuck this up, I fuck you up.” He emphasized his words by running the business end of the pistol along Ryan’s jaw line.

“I’ll do what I can, Tom, but I’m only human.”

“Be better than that. Be better than only human. You understand me?”

Ryan nodded.

“Good, because I’ve seen that little skirt you’re with. She won’t much care for you when I’m done. Shit. Do ya one better. You get this right, or you won’t much care for her when I’m done, either. You get me?”

“Yeah, I get you, man. Just chill, okay? Just be calm. It’ll work out. I’ll find out who did it.”

Tom put the gun into the back of his pants and stepped back two paces. Ryan let himself hope he might live through this.

Not fifteen feet away, Karley was making breakfast. The only barrier between them was a thin apartment wall. That she hadn’t heard anything was something of a miracle.

“Five hours. That’s all. Get to work.”

Tom left the apartment and stormed off toward his car. Every stride he took, every gesture he made, was filled with anger.

Somebody was going to pay dearly for pissing him off. Ryan intended to make sure that someone wasn’t himself.

Pissed didn’t start to cover it. Pardue was wickedly, lividly enraged and wanted to take it out on someone. He just hadn’t figured out who that someone would be. The list of people he wanted to hurt was monumental; his ability to do so was limited. There were the girls, Lord knew a few of them were giving him attitude, and he wanted it taken care of, but he could only go so far before they weren’t marketable. Even what he’d done to Lizzie was pushing it a bit. She’d had to recover for two days before she could get enthusiastic with a client and that had cost him money.

Just right now, money was the root of all his woes. Somebody, somewhere, had raped his bank accounts and done it so well he was at a complete loss. The problem was that even with his money laundered in advance he couldn’t exactly go to the cops and report the problem. He had a bit of a rep and he knew it was Boyd who would get the case. It was always that short little fuck who dealt with him.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed Lenny Simonson. Lenny was the only other person who could have touched his cash without all sorts of red flags going off. Lenny was also the more likely of the two when it came to being stupid. Ryan had enough money of his own and wasn’t likely to get desperate, but it sure was fun putting the fear of God into him. Hell, that had about made his morning; would have made it, if Ryan could have pulled a half a million dollars out of his ass to make up for what was missing.

Ryan couldn’t do that.

Lenny did not answer his phone. He also did not, for whatever insane reason, believe in answering machines. So he was going to have to do this the old-fashioned way and just pay the little bitch a visit.

Lenny was different than Ryan. With Ryan, a threat would be enough to make him work his ass off. Lenny would require a demonstration.

He wondered if Lenny’s little girl had hit puberty yet. “Either way, bitch is gonna scream I don’t get some satisfaction today.”

Part of him hoped Lenny was guilty of something. He wanted to see the look on the asshole’s face when he stuck it to his good buddy’s little girl. Hell, knowing Lenny, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was doing the girl himself. Lenny liked them young. They had a good relationship for that reason; Tom could provide all the side dishes he wanted just as long as Lenny kept the books neat and orderly.

The books, by the way, were not looking at all good.

Neither was the chance that Lenny would be a happy man for much longer.

He drove, his eyes locked on the road and making sure he did the speed limit.

Outside, the crows were watching, waiting patiently. They had their own agendas and they were not sharing their secrets with anyone.

Kelli finished with her classes and tried to keep up the appearance that all was well in her world. She called on Marie, Rita, and Erika to help her with the kids. They all agreed, though she was sure it was mostly just to keep her company. They still thought she was crazy as a loon for staying in the house and helping out with the trick-or-treaters. She didn’t care. The Listers were technically missing, not dead, and she intended to take care of the house as if they were still there.

It was all she had, anyway.

So she penciled in the time for taking care of the Halloween thing and went about her business.

Such as it was. Mostly she was coasting. She was doing that a lot these days.

When classes were finished, she thought about going home and instead decided to hit the library. She was curious now about Jason Soulis, so she decided to look into his background as much as she could.

Google and Yahoo! were her friends. She spent hours looking up the name Soulis and his full name. On Soulis she got a lot of stuff about a Scottish Lord who had been burned to death for witchcraft and for apparently kidnapping and torturing villagers to death. She also found references to dozens of people with the last name, articles on clubs, and people who were just living their lives but apparently did something noteworthy.

On Jason Soulis, she found nothing. Not a damned thing.

How the hell does someone afford a place like that and have no mention in even an occasional newspaper article online? That’s just crazy. She didn’t know enough about computers and searching to get far anyway, but she’d expected to find something.

As she was getting ready to leave, she saw the crows outside. Once again they were everywhere. The lawns were black with them, and they all seemed to be waiting for something. She just had no idea what it might be.

Apparently it was for her. The moment she stepped out of the building they exploded into activity, lifting into the air and taking off in a massive black cloud. Aside from the wind they generated, they were still eerily silent.

The crows. She hadn’t really noticed them until Jason came to town.

It took her a few minutes to dig into her purse and find the business card, but she eventually found Richard Boyd’s number and gave it a ring. He didn’t answer so she left him a message. There was nothing solid, of course, but she wanted him to know about her search and about the crows for what little it was worth.

“Hey, Kelli!” She recognized the voice immediately. It was Todd Thatcher. He was one of the Phi Chi’s, a rather notorious fraternity on the campus. They had the best parties, the best drugs, and the worst reputation for a frat house in the state as far as she could tell.

Still, she’d managed to go to a few of their parties in the past and always had a good time. Okay, so her ass got grabbed now and then, but she always had fun flirting with the jocks and the upperclassmen that made up the roster.

And they were smart enough to know it was just flirting. Mostly. Derek Benson wasn’t smart enough. Todd had been there to prevent his refusal to accept “no” as answer from becoming an incident that would have landed her in the hospital, Derek in jail, or both. When he tried forcing the issue, Todd slammed him into the wall hard enough to dent the plaster and then made him apologize to Kelli. Derek wasn’t with the Phi Chi’s anymore. He didn’t go to the university anymore, either. He managed to screw up his grades too badly to stay.

“How are you, Todd?” She smiled in his direction and he came closer, a broad grin on his broad body. The boy was built like a door: big and blocky.

“I’m good. We’re having a party tonight, thought you might like to come.” He was trying to be casual, but it wasn’t working all that well. He had a crush, and he was sweet when he wasn’t being a typical guy.

“Oh, I don’t know if I can.” She doubted it, actually. There were tests to study for and she didn’t like being away from the house after dark right now. There was something creepy about the nights lately. The nightmares probably had something to do with it. Sometimes she still thought Teddy was outside and asking her to let him in.

He looked a little crestfallen, but it was a survivable level. He pouted very well for such a big moose. “Oh, that’s cool. Just wanted to let you know.”

“I would if I could, Todd. But I’m so far behind on my schoolwork and I have to watch over the house for the Listers.” She gave him her best apologetic look and he shuffled around uncomfortably for a second. “Maybe we could do something on Halloween? I have to take some kids out around five, but I should be done a little after seven, maybe seven-thirty.”

He smiled and nodded. If he’d had a tail, it would have wagged. “Yeah, that’d be great. We’re having a party that night too. This is just sort of a warm-up.”

“Yeah, I was wondering why the party on a Wednesday night.”

“Hey, why not?”

“So, you want to meet up?”

“That’d be great. Okay.” He shuffled from one foot to the other, his hands moving like they had no idea what to do with themselves. Kelli’s hands never had that problem; they flew around her body whenever she spoke.

“Okay, so I’ll see you later, Todd.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you, Kelli.”

She walked off, smiling again and thrilled. She hadn’t had a chance at a date or even a party for over two months, and she needed the release.

Todd shuffled off, on his way to wherever he had been going. He was smiling, too.

They never got to go on the date. Todd was dead by Halloween.

The Phi Chi boys wanted to have a party, and that meant they called on Tom. Tom was glad to accommodate. They wanted to spend enough to at least earn him the cash to make his next buy, which was going to be necessary if he wanted to stay in business.

He hadn’t found Lenny, and he was on his way to Ryan’s place when Doug Clark got hold of him. Doug was the big man on campus this year; top of the food chain as it were. That was good, because Doug had money and wasn’t afraid to spend it.

“Yo, Tom, my man! Wassup?”

“Doug! How’s business?”

“Rockin’, that’s why I need to get some party supplies.”

“What are you gonna need, Doug?”

Doug gave him a list that was substantial and put Tom into a good mood for the first time all day. “I can do all of that, my man. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually.” He sounded almost embarrassed. Anything but extremely cocky was rare for the moron, but that was okay as long as there was money involved.

“Talk to me.”

“Some of the guys were thinking a few girls could be fun. I heard you can supply some.”

“Oh, I can get you girls. No problem there, but they aren’t your standard hookers. We’re talking high-end, quality ass.”

“That’s cool. How much?”

“How many guys?”

Doug paused for a moment before answering, “The whole frat.”

“How many girls?”

“Maybe three or four.” He was sounding a little nervous now. Three or four girls for one of the largest fraternities in the area probably meant a serious train job on the girls. They would not be happy when it was all done.

“Three will be four large. Four will be five large.” They’d have to be placated, of course, but he needed the cash and there were a few girls who still thought they could push Tom to get what they wanted. It was time for them to learn otherwise.

“Better make it three then. Sky’s the limit, but damn.”

“I’m not kidding when I say they’re the best.”

“They do what we want?” Actually, there would probably be a lot of screaming and protesting, but when it was done, they’d be grateful to get back to the high-end boys who only wanted straight sex instead of a little gang action or to watch a girl take a donkey. He had shit to make the girls compliant, but there were limits.

“Oh, they might fuss a little, but they’ll do it. That’s what they get paid to do.”

“Sweet stuff, my man.”

“I’ll have the girls rounded up by around eight o’clock. I’ll have everything else sooner if you need it.”

“The earlier the better with the supplies. Beer only goes so far.”

Tom smiled. “You know what? Just for this occasion, I’m gonna drop you some Viagra. Make sure you can show the girls the time of their lives.”

“Awesome! You’re the man!”

“Oh yes. The one and only, Doug. Don’t you forget it.”

He hung up the phone and relaxed a bit. Playtime was over. He had just the three girls he wanted to use, and they would have no idea what was coming.

The one he was going to have the most fun with was Maggie. Bitch needed to learn her place. It was long overdue.

But first, he had to visit Ryan and find out what was going on.

And maybe he’d have to show Ryan’s woman a good time. He was a little disappointed that he hadn’t found Lenny and his little girl, but it was a small price to pay.

Lenny could wait until tomorrow if he had to. His daughter could wait, too, but the longer Tom had to wait, the worse he was going to make it for the girl.

Ryan didn’t have any information for him.

He cried when Tom tied him up. He begged when Tom grabbed Karley and started giving her a work over.

Karley cried too. That made it more fun.

Maggie woke up a little after three in the afternoon. The window curtains were drawn tightly and she was in the exact same clothes she had been wearing the night before. She was also in Ben’s bed.

She sat up and felt a slight twinge from her muscles. All in all she felt much better than she had the night before. She could hear the stereo playing in Ben’s living room. Diana Krall sang softly but she didn’t recognize the tune.

Maggie stretched, feeling the muscles slide under her skin in an oddly sensuous way. She stood up and looked around the small bedroom. She had been placed on top of the covers, and the only distortion of the bedclothes came from where her body had been resting. Ben had left her alone through the day.

Jason had said something to her the night before about finding someone she could trust, and she guessed that maybe she had.

She left his bedroom and immediately went for the toilet. It wasn’t hard to find, as their apartments were mirror images. After what seemed like a few eternities, her bladder stopped screaming at her and she flushed.

Not wanting to delay the inevitable, she walked toward the living room and found Ben asleep on the couch. His face was looking less swollen. On the coffee table in front of him, she spotted her shoes and her purse. Her keys were sitting slightly aside from everything else. Had she dropped them the night before? She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe she had. Ben must have gone looking for them after he found her.

The sunlight streaming through the window was annoyingly bright, but survivable, so she walked into the room and grabbed her purse, desperate for a cigarette. She didn’t know if Ben was a smoker, but he had ashtrays so she made herself at home and lit up.

He stirred on the couch, but didn’t wake up immediately. So Maggie finished her cigarette and then leaned in close and kissed him on the forehead. His eyes creaked open and he looked up to see her. His face managed a small smile as he sat up and looked at her, his eyes still bleary.

“Good morning, handsome.” She looked at her watch. “Or good afternoon.”

“Hi. You okay?”

“Never better.” This was true. She felt rested and invigorated for the first time in forever.

“I was a little worried.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally pass out.”

“Been a couple of rough days.” There was no judgment in the tones, merely an acceptance of fact.

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” She sat down next to him, and he moved his legs away to let her.

“Guess I’m lucky you found me.”

“Wasn’t luck.” He shrugged. “You knocked on my door.”

“I did?”

“Well, fell against it.”

“Well, thanks.”

“Hey, you did it for me. Besides, I wasn’t doing anything, anyway.” He smiled and then covered his mouth as he yawned.

“It was still nice of you. So thanks.”

Ben looked uncomfortable and shifted his weight a bit. She felt a flash of absolute hatred for Tom: the discomfort had never been there before. She looked at him and then leaned over. A quick kiss on the cheek and she stood back up.

“I should go.”

He nodded and the smile on his face faded a bit. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Not on a bet.”

She slipped out the front door with another wave and crossed over to her own apartment. The sky was overcast, but the world still seemed too bright.

A moment later she was inside where everything was tolerable again. Just the act of walking across the courtyard left her feeling as weak as a baby.

She’d barely gotten into her living room before the phone rang. It was Tom. He needed to see her and he had a job for her that was going to pay well. She agreed to meet him just after six at his place.

It was a job. It was what she did.

But not for much longer. She just had to decide how to break it to Monkey Boy without him putting a few bullets through her head or doing something even worse that would leave her alive and ruined when he was done.

Alan Tripp tore a few layers of skin away from his hand and reopened the wounds under his stitches, but he finally managed to get free of the restraint. After the first one, the rest were easy, if painful. He rummaged in the supply drawer until he found gauze and tape, and then awkwardly applied a pressure bandage.

Now all he had to do was get out of the psychiatric ward.

They were calling to him every night, just as soon as the sun set, and this time around, he intended to answer his family when they called.

They needed him, damn it, and he wasn’t going to let down Avery or Meghan again.

He leaned against the wall near the only entrance into the room and closed his eyes, letting himself drift for a while. The pain was just enough to stop him from going to sleep, and when he feared that he would actually start counting sheep, he just slapped his hand against the wall. One quick explosion of pain and he was good to go again, a trick that worked every time.

Some time later, he heard the wheels on the meal cart squeaking down the long hallway. It was a distinctive noise far different from the other tables and carts the interns were rolling around. Best of all, it was usually manned by only one person.

That was important; he didn’t know if he could bring himself to kill more than one.

It hadn’t taken long to figure out the routine; every few hours the cafeteria worker would bring food, normally something that could be eaten with just fingers, and set it down on the ReadyServe rolling table at the foot of the bed. The table was put into position and locked in place at the height of the patient’s chest, and the meal was left behind. The straps had just enough give that a patient who was limber enough could eat, even if they couldn’t quite get the cloth covering their wrists to the right level for chewing through their restraints.

The less fortunate ones got spoon-fed or, in extreme cases, forced to choke down their liquefied meals with a tube down through the nose.

Alan had made sure to avoid that particular experience.

He wasn’t really in the full-scale loony bin. He was “under observation” because he’d assaulted two police officers. He supposed he was lucky he hadn’t gotten himself killed. But because the rooms were all full at the inn, he got put in the manger: the rooms he and four others were occupying were technically being renovated. That was okay. He could handle that.

In all honesty, it was kind of a bonus, because at least these rooms weren’t equipped with cameras. He didn’t know for sure, but he figured the really serious cases were kept in rubber rooms with several cameras taping their every move.

So he had a chance, at last. He could maybe get himself free from this place and get out to Meghan and Avery. He was willing to try; he was willing to die trying.

They needed him.

The wheels rolled closer and came to a stop outside his door. He waited as patiently as he could for the door to swing inward.

And when the man with the food tray stepped inside, he was ready. He was a big man, six feet, two inches tall and somewhere around two hundred and fifty pounds; most of it was muscle. The guy had shaved his head, presumably to stop patients from ripping it out by the roots. So his large, shiny skull made a perfect target. Alan pushed away from the wall and slammed his forehead into the back of the man’s skull. It hurt, but it worked. The tray the man carried—paper, of course—fell from his hands and he reached back to check what had happened. As he did, Alan moved forward, too, bringing both of his fists into play and punching the poor bastard in the face and in the neck.

The bruiser hit the tile and grunted. Alan reached for him, ready to slam his face into the ground as many times as he had to in order to get free.

He never made it. The man spun on one hip and cocked back his leg. An instant later Alan had a size twelve loafer buried in his stomach and knocking him back against the wall.

“You outta your fucking head?” The man didn’t talk, he growled. He also stood back up, a look of absolute rage on his face. Alan managed to duck the fist that tried to separate his face from his skull.

Alan didn’t have time for any of this. He’d expected to be on his way by now and instead the damned fool was fighting him. Alan swung his left hand in a wide arc and the guy ducked under it, just in time to meet Alan’s knee at the apex of its rise from the ground. Alan felt the nose give out against his kneecap and heard the man grunt, then sigh. He landed like a sack of potatoes when he fell to the ground. This time he didn’t get back up or suddenly pull a Bruce Lee maneuver. Just to make sure, Alan kicked him four times in his stomach.

Then he left the room, pausing only long enough to pull the keys from the man’s belt loop.

His hand was bitching and moaning about its mistreatment, and his knee was singing a similar song. Alan didn’t care. He didn’t have time to care.

He hopped down the hallway as best he could and looked for an exit sign. It was a hospital; they were always nice enough to have exit signs all over the place. When he found one and tried the door under it, the door was locked. The fourth key opened it. He took the key ring with him and went down the stairs as nimbly as he could manage. Graceful he was not. The knee he’d used as a battering ram was swelling, and he could actually see it happening. The sad side effect of wearing a hospital gown was that it didn’t let you lie to yourself about how bad the injury was. He got to see the bruising colors as they formed.

It took him ten minutes to reach the second floor of the hospital. He let himself breathe for a minute when he got there and then he pulled the fire alarm right next to the secured door to the second floor.

Alarms started screaming shrilly and he nodded to himself. In a minute or so, the entire staff would be busy trying to find the source of the fire and while they were busy he would make his escape. He hobbled down the rest of the stairs and pushed the door open. It led to a garage just filled with cars.

He started trying handles.

“I can see the headlines now,” Boyd held his hands up to show the imaginary paper to Danny. “Escaped ball-buster seeks revenge against cop that did him wrong.”

“Bite me.”

“I figure he should be after you in no time. You’re the one that got away with only one cracked nut.”

“It was both, Boyd. And if he shows, I’m using you as my shield.”

“You would, too. Wouldn’t you?”

“Damn straight. It’s why I keep you around.”

“I thought that was why I kept you around, Danny.”

“See? I always get confused about that part.”

They sat down at the booth farthest back in the diner and waited for Sally to come serve them. She knew who they were and what they wanted, so she just waved and indicated she’d be there soon.

“I don’t get it.” Danny slipped his napkin into his lap and placed his flatware just so.

“Get what?”

“Why the guy would go all postal and break out of his room when they were planning on letting him go?”

“Because they didn’t fucken tell him is why.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to watch that nasty fucking language in my restaurant, Boyd?” Sally set down his burger—rare, extra onions—and Danny’s fried shrimp as she spoke. The third plate, a double order of onion rings, she placed between them.

“Sally, I love you. Marry me.”

“In your dreams and my nightmares, hon.” She smiled as she said it.

They waited until Sally had put down the coffees and the large pot on the side before they started talking again.

“What did you find out about Jason Soulis?”

“Not much. Lived in Ohio before this, and off in California before that. Guy gets around. Mostly he likes to travel. In the last few years alone, he’s hit almost every continent.”

Boyd looked at him and chewed his burger slowly. “What? There was a really hot tamale at the information center?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were gone four hours and all you can find out is that he liked to travel?”

“There’s nothing else to find out, Richie.”

“My ass! How about where he’s from? What about his date of birth? What does he do for a living? Why the fuck did he move here?”

Danny eyed him and popped a shrimp into his mouth before answering. He chewed nice and slow, too. “Oh, that stuff.”

“Last nerve, Danny Boy, you’re stepping on it.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad.” He took a sip of coffee. “Soulis was born in Europe, the records were destroyed in some bombing or other, but he lived in Scotland, Ireland, and Wales when he was a kid. He doesn’t do anything for a living, because he’s fuckin’ rich as hell. His date of birth is among the missing, but he’s supposed to be forty-five. He likes to move around because he’s rich and easily bored. He bought his house from Albert Miles, who I also can’t find out much about.”

“Four hours of my life wasted so you could find out jack and shit.”

“They weren’t wasted. You had your own work to do. Tell me what you learned while I was breaking my balls for you.”

“I learned that ‘rush job’ don’t mean shit to the losers who do DNA tests. They won’t have anything solid for at least another forty-eight hours.” Unlike Danny, he spoke with his mouth full. He was capable of doing two things at once. “I learned that Captain O’Neill is a real hardass when he wants a problem solved and it ain’t happening fast enough. I learned from a phone call that we have a lot of crows in town.”

“Golly.”

“Yeah, no shit, right?”

“Any new developments?”

“No. I think that’s enough for one day.”

“This is fuckin’ stupid. What? We have a white slave ring in town now?”

“Maybe. Stranger shit than that happens all the time.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Loch Ness Monster.”

“There is no Loch Ness Monster.”

“Sure, instead there are just rocks that turn people into jelly and we have a race of human lemmings sneaking out every night.”

“I’m telling you, Richie, there’s something about those rocks in the bay. They don’t look right, they don’t feel right.”

“Anyway, so guess who got bailed out?”

Danny stared at him with a half-chewed shrimp in his mouth and forgot to finish chewing. His handsome model’s face went red around the edges.

“You better not fuckin’ say Freemont.”

“So I won’t say it.” Boyd shrugged.

“What kind of asshole would bail that prick out of jail?”

Boyd finished attacking an onion ring before he answered. He liked to make Danny sweat. It was a cheap and easy thrill, but he would take them where he could get them.

“Does the name Tom Pardue mean anything to you?”

“You were right, Richie. We should have shot the bastard when we had the chance.”

“Which bastard, Pardue or Freemont?”

“Yes.”

“There’s always tomorrow, Danny.”

“We could go looking today.”

“No, we’re on the shit list. No way is O’Neill gonna approve the overtime.”

“Fuck it. I ain’t poppin’ them for free.”

“Not what you said about those stewardesses.”

“Believe me, there was nothing to pop.”

“Spoken like a sexist pig.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Screw this. We’ve been running around town all damned day. I say we call it a night.” Boyd covered his mouth with his napkin and belched as softly as he could. He loved onions, but they seldom loved him back.

“Yeah, that’s great.” Danny murdered another fried shrimp and washed it down with a gulp of coffee. “We can go on home and wake up to twice as many disappearances tomorrow. That’d be like the third night in a row.”

Boyd dropped his napkin and stared hard at Danny. “I wish that was a joke, Danny.”

“What?”

“That’s scary shit there.”

“What do you mean?”

Boyd held up a finger and thought hard. “You aren’t right, but you’re close. It’s getting bigger. Whatever these disappearances are, it’s getting bigger.”

Danny looked back at him and scowled. “Well, screw this. I want a raise.”

Maggie met Tom at his place, a large Cape Cod that had more class than he would ever be able to manage. It looked damned good. He still looked like a monkey.

“So what’s up, Tom?”

“Not even a hello kiss?”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

He held the door for her, a regular gentleman. She managed not to roll her eyes and instead nodded her thanks. She was feeling better as the day grew long. That was a plus.

She’d just realized that turning her back on Monkey Boy was a mistake when she felt the needle slip into her hip.

“What the hell?”

Tom pulled back a syringe and smiled. “Just something to calm you down, baby. You’ve been too tense lately.”

Her skin felt tender, but aside from that she didn’t feel any different. “I told you when we started this that I don’t do shit like that!”

Tom smiled and nodded. “This one is a surprise. Believe me, you’ll thank me later.”

“Fuck you. I’m out of here.”

He stood back and raised his arms in surrender. She didn’t like that very much either, because it meant he thought he had the upper hand. Maggie dug into her jeans pocket and pulled out her pepper spray. If this was going to get ugly, she intended to make sure she could get away.

She stormed the door and walked outside. Tom let her pass without a word.

“It’s done, Tom. I’m sick of this shit and I’m sick of you. I quit.”

“Maggie, don’t be that way, baby. We have a long history together.”

“It’s done! I don’t want anything more from you and you’re not getting anything more from me. Over. Done. Finished.”

“Well, it was fun, Maggie.” He was smiling and that got her deeply worried.

“What did you do to me, Tom?”

“Nothing you won’t live through.”

Her knees buckled and the pepper spray fell from her numbed fingers. Before she could hit the ground, Tom was there catching her.

“See? Nothing deadly. It’ll wear off in a little while.” His tone was as falsely sweet as she had ever heard. “And by then, all the fun and games will be ready.”

The feeling started coming back to her legs and arms, but only because the numbness was going elsewhere. It was creeping into her head, seeping through her senses like smoke through a screen door.

When Tom urged her to stand, Maggie did so without hesitation. She couldn’t think of a reason not to.

She heard his words, but they didn’t register clearly. They were words she would remember later, after it was too late. “You know I get a lot of my shit from Haitians, Maggie. What you just got is a mild dose of the shit they use to make zombies. Nothing permanent, but it’ll keep you feeling nice and agreeable for about…” He looked at his watch. “Three hours.”

He slid his hand under her arm and fondled her breast. Deep in the darkness, far away from her body, she wanted to scream. She was pretty sure the last thing she ever wanted to have happen to her again would involve sex with Tom Pardue.

She needn’t have worried. Tom never went beyond the quick groping stage. Had she been able to think coherently on the surface of her mind, she would have realized that was because she was too compliant for his tastes right then, he preferred his sex toys struggling and crying.

Tom pressed up against her from behind and kissed the side of her face.

“We’re going to a party, Maggie. And guess what? You get to be the main course.”

Later, much later, she’d think about those words. When the drugs were all finished working through her system and the blood and violence of the night was done, she’d think about those words again and again.

And she would have reason to hate Tom more than she ever knew was possible.

But before then, she had a fraternity to meet.

Children had a special place in Jason Soulis’s mind. They always had. There was something fascinating about their youth and vitality. They were often sweet, sometimes vicious, and always so eager to explore new things. He loved those traits in the people around him.

Ideally he would have had only children, but he had to take what he could get. All of them were young, none much older than their late teens, and all of them were doing their very best to get wasted on alcohol. Their best was quite sufficient. The group had gathered in a clearing not too distant from his home and his birds had told him exactly where they were. He couldn’t have been more pleased.

They’d been imbibing for quite a while, and there was little struggle as a result. The hardest part was getting them back to his house without being seen, and he had learned many tricks to cover that department over the years.

An hour after sunset, they were where he wanted them, and surrounded by his children.

“Can we go out tonight?”

“No. I have brought you your food.”

“Please? It’s always dark here.”

“It’s for the best. You won’t much like the light anymore.”

One of them tried. One of them almost always felt they had to try. He let the fool cover a few dozen feet and then moved to intercept the escape effort.

She cried when he struck her, and whimpered along the cold stone floor.

“I said no, my child. Not tonight.”

“But why?” She was so sweet in her innocence.

“Because tonight is special. Tonight you will earn a new master.”

They hissed, uncomprehending.

“Enough. I’ve brought you your feast. Eat and be happy with what you have. All will be explained in time.”

They fell upon the teenagers he’d found for them, ravenous with the needs of their still-changing bodies. Most of them were still too new to hunt on their own.

Jason left them, walking back to his home and listening to the sounds of the youngsters as the alcohol failed to completely numb their senses.

Now he had to wait.

It was time, and Maggie was due to come into her own.

He had heard the conversation between the detectives in town—his birds had ears as well as eyes—and was surprised that they caught on as quickly as they did. That was the real reason that his children were not allowed out of their home.

The detectives were closer to thinking things through than he wanted them to be, and he wanted to throw them off.

Besides, Maggie would likely do more than double the numbers if everything went the way he suspected it would.

Maggie was suffering in darkness at the moment, her mind numbed by that fool who sold her services.

But the drug would wear off, and when it did, she would come into her own. She would be a magnificent animal and she would awaken to a radically different world.

And she would awaken hungry.

Soulis smiled as he heard a distant siren wail; it mingled well with the screams from below.