Part 23 (1/2)

Where were Breisi and Kiko?

Accessing her cell phone, she headed toward the street, finding a message from them. Nearby, a large dog barked behind a dilapidated fence. As she dialed Kiko's number, Matt's words hammered into her.

I won't turn you down on that.

Was that some kind of snide comment on what she had already been offering him? He could turn down her body but not her help, huh? a.s.s.

Yet what niggled at her even more was his talk about The Voice. How could she check into him? Where would she even start?

d.a.m.n it, she was really some detective.

Behind her, a scream of tires signaled an approaching vehicle. She saw headlights making their way toward her. When she realized it was the 4Runner, she disabled her call to Kiko and waved the vehicle down.

It heaved to a stop.

Through the open window, Kiko yelled, ”Get in!”

And she did, without question.

Which bothered her a whole lot more than it had earlier tonight.

EIGHTEEN.

THEBAIT.

BREISIwas making record time through the streets as Kiko leaned over the seat, asking Dawn what happened to her.

”Lonigan,” she said. ”We had an intense tete-a-tete behind that wall. He was hanging out there.”

Her coworkers exchanged a significant look.

”What, it's not like I was making out with him in our special hidden spot.” Dawn hesitated. ”Did you...I don't know...ever wonder if the guy is just after the same things we are? Or if he's following the trail of vampires and not just Frank?”

”Wondering about it now,” Kiko said.

”He wasn't happy to see me...us...there. Not even remotely.”

Kiko raised his eyebrows. ”Hey, maybe he's a PI who has a bit on the side, one of them mercenaries who doesn't want the compet.i.tion. You know, Breisi, those people we've heard about who travel the world bagging vamps for big cash? There's this website where you can contact them. I've been on it.”

”It's possible.” Breisi kept her eyes on the road. ”You should've heard this story he told me about his parents.” Now that Dawn wasn't near Matt, caught in the mind-spinning web of his proximity, she suddenly got a strange sense of having heard the details of his parents' deaths before. Weird. Why? ”He saw them murdered by what he thinks was a vamp, and that's what drove him to PI work. And you know what else? If he's, like, this 'hunter,' what the h.e.l.l does that make the client who hired him?” She didn't dare ask what that also might make Frank himself....

Instead, she forged ahead. ”If I do the math, it adds up to trouble. If Lonigan is involved with the paranormalandhe's investigating Frank, it sounds like he might know more about Robby's case than we first suspected. Things you guys might not want public.”

”Could be,” Breisi said.

”And Lonigan said...more.”

Kiko waited for her to go on. Serious Kiko.

”He pretty much said it's a bad idea to trust Limpet,” she said, watching her psychic coworker just as closely. ”Said I should be investigating his intentions.”

”That's not a good way to spend your time,” Breisi said.

”Why?” Dawn scooted up in her seat. ”How much do you two really know about your boss?”

Kiko faced front, like he was hiding his reaction. ”We know enough.”

She wasn't going to get anywhere when it came to The Voice. Kiko was loyal to a fault, even if Dawn suspected he wanted to take more of a lead when it came to hunting monsters. But Breisi...? Her face was still emotionless as the streetlights whisked over her broad features.

Behind that facade, was she actually p.i.s.sed at Dawn for doubting the boss? Or was there something much deeper going on: resentfulness about Frank's disappearance-maybe because of something The Voice had ordered him to do?

”So,” Kiko said, ”I a.s.sume Lonigan got a load of Klara, too. He must've been doing his detective thing before we got there. I wonder who he pays off in the department.”

At the mention of the victim, jabs of red taunted Dawn. She slammed them away.

”Me and Breisi barely got out of there with the telephoto pictures,” Kiko added. ”Burks helped when that detective started hara.s.sing us, but he caught a glimpse of Breisi's digital camera and told us to hand it over. That's when we made a run for it.

Luckily the 4Runner is outfitted to flip its license plates, so it'll be hard to trace us. Needless to say, we got real worried about leaving you, Dawn, but we called to see where you were so we could pick you up.”

”Sorry for the trouble.”

Breisi shrugged. Wow, she clearly gave two s.h.i.+ts about Dawn, didn't she? Yup, they'dreallybonded last night.

”Klara's neck,” Kiko was saying. ”It was like some kind of frenzied animal got to her. No punctures, like vamp bites in the movies.”

”You said that we can't depend on a certain set of vampire rules,” Dawn said. ”So it's par for the course.”

”That's what the boss tells us.”

Matt's last words came back.Demand some answers.Good advice. So why wasn't she being more aggressive about it?

Red, blood, an image turned to a slab of white nothingness... Dawn cleared her mind.

”By the way, we talked to the boss,” Kiko said. ”I sent him those cell phone pictures already. He's wondering if Klara got caught by one of those red-eyes with the iron teeth.”

”What if Klara is just some unfortunate soul who crossed paths with a random cretin on a regular L.A. night?”

Even as Dawn asked, she knew it sounded foolish. The fact that n.o.body answered just proved it.

G.o.d, you knew your s.h.i.+t was messed up when a vampire attack turned out to be a more logical explanation for a violent death than regular old murder itself. After all, they had just interviewed the actress about Robby. And vampires had been loitering around Robby's old property.

One plus one equaled a connection. Not a satisfactory answer, but a definite coincidence.

And that meant...Klara could very well have been killed because she'd talked to them. Dawn leaned her head against the window. It was cool against her skin.

So what exactly did that mean? Was there some greater power-a vamp who had ties to Robby-who needed to shut Klara up?

And what did Robby and Frank have to do with it?

In the back of her brain, on the white, white screen of thought, a film reel spliced itself together and flickered to life: Robby inDiaper Derby, a kid who hadn't aged in twenty-three years.