Part 14 (1/2)
”A self-styled vampire hunter.”
Her expression went from curiosity to complete horror and her heart rate shot up accordingly. ”What?”
I smiled. ”Please don't worry about it, he couldn't find his a-his head with both hands.”
”But if he knows about you, if he's after you-”
I took her hand and made rea.s.suring noises until she was calm enough to listen, then told her a little about Braxton and his acolyte, Webber. In the end, she was still upset, but mastering it.
”There's really nothing for you to worry about,” I said. ”They don't know where I'm living now, and in a city this big they never will, unless it's by accident.”
”But he read my notice and connected it with you-he knows where I am and could be watching this hotel. He could already know you're here and be waiting outside.”
”There's an idea,” I admitted. ”But I've been keeping my eyes open. If I spot them, I can lose them.”
”But if they find you during the day...”
”They won't, I promise. I'm in a safe place, really. I am much more worried about them bothering you.”
”But what will you do about them?”
I shrugged and shook my head. Since coming back I hadn't had much time to think about it, and there had been no real chance to talk strategy out with Escott.
”Can't you do something to make them go away?” she pleaded.
Her concern for my safety was touching and embarra.s.sing in its strength. She'd just found someone she could link to a pleasant past and was in danger, at least in her mind, of losing him. She would worry, no matter how much I rea.s.sured her. I regretted letting her in on the story, but she was better off knowing about Braxton; at least now she would be on guard.
Escott pulled out a small notebook and pencil. ”And now.
Gaylen, if you can put up with a few questions about your sister...”
She blinked at him, distracted out of her worry. ”Oh, yes, certainly.”
It didn't take long. He gleaned a phone number and a couple of addresses from her memory, none of them familiar to me.
”I only wish I could be of more help,” she said.
He gave her his best professional smile. ”I'm sure this will be of great help, though I can make no optimistic promises.”
”I understand.”
”We have imposed upon you long enough, though, and must be going ourselves.”
”Will you let me know if you find out anything?”
”Are you going to be in town when I return?”
”Yes, I shall be here awhile; it's a change for me. Jack, have you a number I can reach you at?”
”Um, yes, just a second.” I scribbled down Bobbi's number. ”You can leave a message for me at this one.”
”And will you let me know what happens with this Braxton fellow?”
”As soon as I know myself.”
Her eyes were s.h.i.+ning. ”Thank you. Both of you.”
Chapter 7.
WE LEFT HER, neither of us saying much of anything. Escott was mulling things over in his head, and I was too drained and disappointed to want to talk right away, but not so tired that I didn't check the mirror now and then. There were plenty of headlights to fill it, but none of them belonged to a black Lincoln.
It was past Escott's suppertime, so I drove at his direction to a small German cafe a few blocks off the Loop. He gave his order in German, hardly glancing at the menu chalked on a blackboard above the cas.h.i.+er. We found a booth and settled in to wait for the arrival of his food.
”Thanks for the poisoning story. I was about to say it was a car wreck.”
Not at all,” he said, absently aligning a saltshaker up with the checked pattern on the tablecloth. ”An accident would have been acceptable, but she might decide to look up any records on it. There's the same problem with hospital records, but they can be more difficult to obtain.”
”You don't think she'd check up on me, do you? She doesn't seem the type.”
”Hardly, but if one must lie, it should be a simple one and difficult to disprove.”
”What'd you think of her?””An interesting woman; she told a very pretty story. She seemed too good to be true.”
”You didn't like her?”
”Emotions are the enemy of clear thought; my appraisals have nothing to do with personal affections.”
”I'll put it this way, then: what bothered you about her?”
The pepper joined the salt on the checkered pattern. ”She seemed terribly old.”
”She is seventy -two.”
”I speak of her state of mind. You can be seventy-two or ninety-two and still feel young inside.”
”People are different.”
”Mmm. Well, call it my natural caution at work. You were cautious as well. Why did you give her Miss Smythe's telephone number and not my own?”
I shrugged. ”I didn't really think about it at the time. You're going to be gone for a while and I'm over at Bobbi's a lot.”
”And perhaps you're worried that Braxton might trick or force my number from Gaylen and trace it down.”
I frowned agreement. ”There's that. I've got the house detective looking out for him, though, so Bobbi should be all right. The geezer's a little cracked, but I don't see him getting violent with an old lady.”
”No doubt, but violence can emerge from the most unexpected sources. I can recall an exceptionally sordid case of two children knifing their grandmother to death to obtain her pet cat.”