The afternoon skies bore down on Nick like a gloomy gray stone. A steady, windswept drizzle coated the city in a glossy sheen. Not that bright blue skies would have made the task any easier. Drake had been frustratingly hard to pinpoint. The tingling sense of awareness of the other side would pop up but then fade a few minutes later. It was something Nick could not understand. The feeling should have been more constant, even if Cornelius was driving around. The fleetingness of it made no sense, and Nick found himself growing more irritated as the day wore on. They were being played with, and there was little they could do except keep playing the game.
Drake would be taking his next victim soon. After the first it had been days between victims, but now, knowing full well how quickly law enforcement could work, Nick figured he would be lucky if it was more than a day or two. Drake would want him to get a good whiff, too-offer up a little extra inspiration and maybe do something to link him even more closely to the murders. Jackie Rutledge would be all over him then. He’d be lucky if he didn’t get arrested-but then, that would ruin the game. Cornelius would not want that, so he was counting on Nick’s ability to avoid incarceration. Nick had entertained the thought of turning himself in just to break things up, to see what Drake would do, but who was to say he would not just march right into the jail and slaughter everyone, including himself for not playing by the rules. If anything, the man had proven he did not like his life to be interfered with.
He found himself thinking more about what might happen to Jackie Rutledge if she got too close to things. Technology made it so difficult now to circumvent investigations. The odds were growing stronger by the hour that he would be brought in on suspicion. If they found reason to get a warrant to search his house, shit would really hit the fan. The woman was close to the point of pulling him in just for breathing funny.
Nick crept along, barely holding the speed limit while he let his mind wander, catching the occasional whiff of a ghost, potent enough to still be lingering in the world of the living, but missing that peculiar, bittersweet stench of the other side. Shelby was right, of course. The FBI could make this search easier. Whatever Drake had up his sleeve, it was confounding their senses. They were no closer to him now than earlier. Of course, a little blood would go a long way toward evening the odds. No matter how much the thought lingered though, Nick could not bring himself to call Drake’s bluff on that account. Promises had been made, ones that would damn him to hell regardless if he broke them.
Then Nick caught the familiar whoosh of the door to Deadworld opening up, a faint but persistent echo in his mind, like the caw of a crow stuck in an endless loop. Drake was feeding again, and it had not even been twenty-four hours.
Turning north up Western Avenue, Nick gunned his engine and began to weave through traffic, ignoring the blaring horns. It was up near the area Shelby had been searching in. The soft, singsong lilt of her voice spoke into his ear.
“Hi! Shel here, and, no, I’m not. Just leave me a-” Nick grumbled and clicked the cell shut. What the hell was she doing?
Five minutes later, he tried her again with similar results. “Damnit, Shel! Where are you?” A thousand hopeless, gut-clenching scenarios tumbled through his head while he began to zero in on the source. He was close, a few blocks, perhaps. Then, mysteriously, the feeling faded away to the usual dim whisper.
This time, her voice rang loud and clear. “Hey, babe.”
“Where in Christ’s name were you? I had him for a minute. I’m on Western, heading north.”
“I was ignoring all the calls to flash my boobs,” she said, laughing loudly.
Funny. He was years removed from feeling any jealousy over her. “You could take this just a little more seriously.”
“Oh, fucking lighten up, Nick. We’re closing in. He’s close.”
She was evading. Being a sheriff and a PI did give you certain advantages at times. What would she need to be evasive for? “You weren’t actually flashing your breasts at anyone, were you?”
“Aw, could my Nick be-” She cut off for a moment, her voice replaced by the screaming roar of her motorcycle’s engine and the screeching of tires. “Out of the way, dipshit!”
Nick pulled to a stop in front of a Starbucks. Coffee sounded good now, and he could use a break. “Where are you going in such a hurry? You’re going to kill yourself, powers or not.”
She laughed again, the sound almost giddy. “Just cruising, sweetie. Clearing my head. Besides, I need to lose this tail again. These feds suck.”
The tail had been a constant since noon. It did not take much to lose them, but it wasn’t long before they picked either of them up again. It hit Nick abruptly then, like a punch in the gut. Sweetie. She had not called him that in thirty years.
Anger and fear swept through him like wildfire. “Damnit, Shel. Tell me you didn’t just drink. Tell me that feeling I just had five minutes ago was Drake and not you drinking from someone.” There was no answer, just the changing of gears on her bike. “Shelby! Answer me, goddamn you!”
The BMW screeched to a halt in his ear, and the roar of the engine quieted to a dull rumble. The sarcasm stung Nick like a wasp. “Drink what, Nick?”
Nick slapped a hand over his face in disbelief. “You did. Sweet mother of God, you drank blood.”
Shelby was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was more subdued. “I didn’t kill anyone, Nick.”
“Like that makes a fuck-” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath. The anger would do no good. Shelby would enjoy the fight, more than likely. “That doesn’t make a difference, and you know it.”
An exasperated sigh whispered in his ear. “So what, Nick? You realize the position we’re in now, don’t you? One down, four to go, and then it’s you, babe. We’re no closer than we’ve ever been.”
True, but still wrong. “You promised me, Shel. No more blood.” We swore upon the graves of our loved ones. Swore never again to be so corrupt and evil.
“Yeah, I did. It was thirty fucking years ago, when it didn’t really matter.” Her voice grew steadily louder in his ear. “But it matters now, and we need all the goddamn help we can get. Besides, he deserved it, Nick. Don’t worry, he’ll live. We won’t if we don’t do something.”
“There are other things-”
“What things!” she yelled in his ear, years of frustration and rage bursting out of her so loudly it made his ear ring. “We aren’t doing anything, and you are shuffling your weary ass up to the firing line just so you can feel better about getting shot. Well, fuck that! Fuck that, Nick. I’m not doing it. My senses are pumping now, and, oh, does it feel good. So I’m going to hunt a while, babe. Okay? You’re lucky I don’t give Agent Rutledge a call and have her join me. Later.”
The phone went silent, and Nick hurled it against the opposite door. She was right and wrong at the same time. Moral ambiguity was such a pain in the ass. Nick forgot his coffee and gunned his car back into traffic. Somehow she had gotten over the ethical hump and broken her promise. It didn’t mean as much to her. How could it? Nick swore. He could almost hear the blood that had been singing in Shelby’s veins, pushing open the door and letting the delightfully abhorrent rush come pouring through. Damn her.
The thought of blood would not leave his mind. It would be so easy to give in, but it would make him once again into that same monster Drake was.
On the passenger-side floor, his cell rang, interrupting the troubling thoughts. Nick was forced to pull into the parking lot of the Riverview Plaza so he could stop and pick up the phone. The number didn’t indicate who was calling.
“Anderson.”
“Agent Rutledge, Mr. Anderson. Am I bothering you?” Her tone was decidedly calm.
“Just running some errands, Agent Rutledge. How can I help you?”
“Everything okay there, Mr. Anderson? You sound a little annoyed.”
Nick took a deep breath. She picked up cues well. “Frustrating day is all.”
“I hear you there,” she said, sounding a little too pleased. “I had something come up today I was wanting to ask you about.”
Nick put the car into park and sagged back into his seat. “Ask away.”
“That penny we showed you before-you remember the one?”
“Of course.”
“Well, it was stolen this morning from our evidence room.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he said. “And, no, I’m not sure how or why that would have happened. If that’s what you were wondering.”
“Oh, no,” she replied, not taking the bait. “We have some strong leads on that account. I wanted to ask you though if you had thought of anything relevant in this matter, you know, that might help us pinpoint our culprit. We have some suspicions, but it would help us out if you might offer some information that would narrow it down for us.”
Where was she heading with this? Could they really know already? No, he assured himself. He would be handcuffed in an interrogation room right now if that was the case. She was fishing. “I was perfectly honest with you before, Agent Rutledge. I have no additional information for you in that regard.”
“Hmmm, okay,” came her simple reply. “I wanted to double-check before we head out to look into these leads. Thank you for your time.”
“Anytime. Feel free to call again if you have any further questions.”
This time her reply had a tinge of anger. “Oh, we will. Don’t worry.”
Nick clicked off his phone and put it back in his pocket. At least he knew they didn’t have him on that yet. They were trying, however, and it was only a matter of time. One thing was certain. Their presence was not going away any time soon. He put the car into gear and pulled back out onto the street. A block behind, he caught sight of the brown sedan as it pulled out of a gas station and began to follow.