Part 13 (1/2)

”Not really.”

”You know where she lives, where she works, you know her travel plans, you know her friends...” Nunez said.

”I gave her a ride home once.”

Nunez and Buchanan exchanged looks.

After a pause, Buchanan nodded. ”You're with us,” he said to me. ”We'll need a statement down at the station.”

”Okay, my car's outside,” I said. I didn't want to end up back at the station without a car.

”Give me a lift,” Buchanan said.

It wasn't a request.

I'd showed up out of nowhere, knew the victim well enough to decide to kick her door down and I discovered a murder that was linked to two more. Just those details were enough to make me a person of interest. Add the possibility of press speculation on top, and the pressure on Homicide would be mounting. They'd want a detailed statement from me and I wouldn't be able to tell them enough to satisfy them.

As we walked out to the cars, I felt a mounting anger at everything. Why couldn't the colonel have gotten here sooner? Why did this investigation have to land on Buchanan's desk? Why did I have to be the d.a.m.n fuse point all the time?

Not helpful at the moment. I needed to be thinking clearly. I pushed the anger back down.

Buchanan slid into the pa.s.senger seat and I pulled out of the parking lot, Nunez following close behind us.

Buchanan let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't gotten to bed either, by the look of it.

”You did okay,” he said finally.

Huh? What the h.e.l.l?

”Thanks,” I replied cautiously.

”Knight said you lit out like your tail was on fire.”

”There was a chance she was alive.”

And my partner was reporting on me. Frigging fantastic. All those questions on patrol last night. Knight talks to Homicide and all of a sudden he's interested in what I did on Friday. Yeah.

Buchanan's shoulders slumped.

”We need more resources,” he said. ”You're half in anyway. We're going to need you to come on board. Who's in charge of your duty rosters?”

”Sergeant Carver.” I was having trouble keeping up with him. He wanted me on his team? Yeah. My bulls.h.i.+t meter went into the red zone.

”Okay. I'll talk to him.” He looked out the window. ”The team needs to keep our story straight here. If we start talking about serial killers, the press will be all over us. It won't look good, and believe me, this case is being watched all the way to the top. If we screw it up, they'll know who to blame.”

And so convenient for Detective Buchanan if he could redirect the blame downwards.

But I needed to get every last fact out of Buchanan for the colonel. The easiest way would be to pretend I was taken in by his invitation to join his team.

”You transferring me from patrol to your investigation team?”

”Yeah. We'll sort the details out later. You don't want to stay in patrol, do you? It'd be a waste.”

”No, I don't want to stay in patrol,” I said.

But I don't believe your bulls.h.i.+t that you can s.h.i.+ft me around just like that. Or that you've suddenly realized I've got something to contribute.

”So what's the official story about these killings?” I asked.

”Gangs. Gangs fighting a turf war over clubs. It'll make the newspapers happy. They can have plenty to say, and the pictures they'll be able to use will sell newspapers for a month. The difference is, it's all infighting between freaks. Normal people won't get upset. No one gives the mayor much of a hard time over gangs killing each other. ”

”But these last two...they're not gang members. They're not freaks, either.”

”In that club?” Buchanan snorted. ”People won't believe that.”

I didn't say anything. There wasn't anything that I felt I could say. Buchanan was trying to lump everything under a convenient heading.

The trouble was, he didn't really believe it. He'd obviously started to put together enough information to figure out there was something seriously screwy here. Whatever I might think of him, he wasn't stupid.

The colonel had said he didn't want lots of people to know about vampires, he wanted one contact. It couldn't be Buchanan. He wasn't senior enough.

And I didn't want to be on this team. Or any team with Buchanan in it. I was going to have a h.e.l.l of a day until the colonel arrived.

Buchanan wasn't finished. As we were parking at the station he started speaking again. ”As a team, we'll need to be real close. We'll need to know everything you know about this case.” He ran a hand through his hair. ”It doesn't matter if you've kinda stepped outside the bounds, huh? You're new at this. Everyone drops a ball or two. The team will look out for you. I'll look out for you.”

”Of course,” I said. ”Nothing matters more than a quick resolution.”

How dumb did he think I was? He was trying to tease information out of me. Would he and Nunez try the good cop, bad cop routine as well?

We got out and walked into the station.

”You probably don't even realize it, but something in what you know will crack this case,” he went on. ”I'll make sure they know it was your lead.” His hand waved vaguely upstairs where the higher ranks of the police had their offices while he guided me over to his. ”Use my system,” he said. ”I don't want anybody reading over your shoulder. I don't want anybody outside the team in on this.”

I nodded and logged in on his computer to enter my statement.

”I'll get us some coffee,” he said and went out.

I put my head in my hands. I was so screwed. How the h.e.l.l was I going swing this? I sighed. I couldn't lie, but I couldn't be truthful either.

In the end, my statement was simply a fuller detail version of what I'd already sketched out to Buchanan and Nunez. I owned up to the sc.r.a.p of paper with my number on it. Forensics would find that out anyway. Nothing about the army and vampires. I wasn't going to put anything else in a report with being ordered to by the colonel. I glanced at the clock on the screen. Another four or five hours and he would be here. I would gladly pa.s.s this mess on to him, but where was that going to leave me?

And more importantly, how many more people were going to die?

Buchanan never brought the coffee.

I'd barely finished logging off when he came back in with my report already printed. He'd probably been following me from another terminal, reading as I typed.

”Come on,” he said, and jerked his head down the corridor.

He took me to an interview room. Finally, the good guy pretense was dropped. Lieutenant Morales was sitting at the table with Nunez. Buchanan tossed the report on the table and sat opposite Nunez.