Part 34 (2/2)
”Not really. Not all of them,” he amended, remembering Amy.
”You'd think that the sort of people who'd drink at a Goth coffee shop... What?” she demanded as Jack growled something under his breath. ”I just like saying it. We, where we refers to the police in general as opposed to our detachment in particular, also received a number of calls about vandalized satellite dishes, a couple of downed power lines, a destroyed pigeon coop, and, not far from here, a balcony railing ripped right off the twelfth floor. No one saw anything, though.”
”It took the high ground between the coffee shop and here,” Tony realized. ”That's why there were no casualties.”
”Not a lot of healthy pigeons left in that coop,” Constable Danvers pointed out dryly. ”And when you say it, you're talking demon, right?”
”Right. They move really fast.”
”No s.h.i.+t.”
”Can you check for more flashes?”
She shook her head. ”There was only the one reported last night.”
”Not just from last night,” Jack broke in. ”Go back at least a week,” he told his partner, then turned to Tony. ”You want to compare the flashes to the demons you dusted, get a count, and find out if there's any still hanging around.”
”It'll get us the timing, too. Unless the intervals are completely random, we'll know when to expect the next one.”
”You're smarter than you look.”
”I hate to put a damper on the mutual congratulations,” Danvers sighed. ”But last night's report was a fluke. Pilot just happened to be pa.s.sing over at the right time. No one else called it in.”
”There's not much around there.” It was on the edge of an industrial park, as far as Tony could remember and, that close to the airport, what locals there were would be used to blocking out lights and sound. The guests at the hotel down the street wouldn't know what pa.s.sed for normal in that part of Vancouver and the staff would be too busy to care. ”If a weak spot opened where there were more people, someone probably called the cops.”
Looking thoughtful, she snapped the occurrence book closed, slid it into an inside pocket, and pulled out her PDA. ”Worth a try, I suppose. I can access the electronic files from here.”
”Not from here, you can't. You can't get an uplink any closer than the other side of the road,” he explained in answer to the questioning curl of her lip, impressed by the amount of information she could convey in a sneer.
”Fine.” She stood. ”I'll check and then I'm gone. Some of us can't waste precious sick days saving the world. Oh, h.e.l.l, I'm going to have to come back, aren't I? I can't just call you with the info.”
”Let's settle down, people!” Adam's voice, rising from around Raymond Dark's coffin, dampened the ambient noise. ”Quiet on the set!”
Tony glanced over toward the door. The light was still off. ”You won't get to come back if you don't go away.”
”You can talk after he says quiet?”
”Yeah, but you can't leave after the red light goes on.”
She took two steps toward the door and half turned, one hand rising to touch the loose knot of hair at the back of her neck. ”Lee Nicholas?”
”Is in Chester Bane's office with the demonic consultant,” Jack told her. ”I thought you didn't have time to hang around and save the world.”
”I may need to ask him a couple of questions about that deranged fan.” She flashed him a ”two can play at this game” look and ran for the door.
”Lee's with Leah?” Tony asked when no one yelled rolling. He was aiming for nonchalant. He suspected he missed.
”That's where I left him. I took over out here, remember?” Leaning on the curve of the chaise, Jack raised an eyebrow. ”You think he's in there shoring up his increasingly dubious heteros.e.xuality?” He snickered as Tony shrugged, once again missing nonchalant.
”Yeah, it's all right there on your face. Except the increasingly dubious bit. I added that myself.”
”So what's with the lights in the sky?”
Jack straightened, allowing the subject to be changed. ”Sammy Kline's a janitor out at SFU. Every payday he goes on a bender and reports lights in the sky.” Pale brows drew in. ”Any chance he could be right?”
Another shrug. ”Beats me. I don't do aliens.”
”I can't work like this!” Mason's protest cut off whatever smart-a.s.s response Jack was about to make. When he wanted to get his point, across the star of Darkest Night fell back on skills he'd learned doing summer theater unmiked in leaky tents situated by a major highway that was uphill-both ways-from his drafty and unheated garret room. No one had suffered for their art like Mason. ”Look! Right there! There is a cherry in my coffin!”
”Mason...” Peter's voice faded just below where they could hear it.
Mason and a cherry; that was just too easy. Even across the soundstage, Tony could hear the snickers.
”I called quiet, people!” Adam had been around the business too long to allow any amus.e.m.e.nt to show in his voice. ”Settle down!
And rolling!”
”Rolling,” Tony repeated softly.
”Mark!”
They couldn't hear the scene called, but they heard the clapper.
”Action!”
”Action...” He wanted to be by the camera watching Mason overact, the only demons on the set the metaphorical demons in Raymond Dark's past. He wanted bad coffee and long hours and he very much didn't want to be tucked off to one side while he dealt with the weirdness du jour. He wanted his life back. There had to be a way he could deal with this s.h.i.+t instead of just reacting to it. Leah's original idea of preventing the demons from crossing over was a good one, but finding them by driving around the lower mainland was stupid and inefficient.
He had to stop thinking like a TAD and start thinking like a wizard if he ever wanted a chance to be a TAD again.
Yeah. That's it. Aim high.
”So this is the infamous game of spider solitaire.”
”Infamous?” Tony smacked Jack's hand away from the keyboard and winced as it returned to impact against the back of his head.
”The game that masks the wonders of wizardry.”
Tony shot him a sideways look as he scrolled down the index. ”You've been talking to Amy.”
”No law against it.” He winked over the cardboard lip of his coffee cup. ”And like I said, she's cute.”
”She's not your type.” ”You don't know that.”
”You're not her type. You're way too normal.”
A pale brow arced up. ”I took a sick day to hunt demons.”
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