Hughes had high cheekbones, dark hair and eyes. He was rather handsome in a tight-ass kind of way.
“See, the thing is I’m too busy at the moment.”
Bernstein pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them against his thigh until he winced. Perfect.
“Am I under some kind of arrest?” I asked.
“You’ll need treatment if you’re to recover,” Hughes added as he stepped between Bernstein and me.
“Recover from what?” I asked.
“You’re injuries are quite extensive and we have reason to believe you’ve contracted a deadly disease.”
“I don’t feel particularly deadly or diseased at the moment. Dr. Drake is mistaken.”
“Dr. Drake isn’t a raving lunatic. He made some sense.”
“Who do you work for?”
“We don’t have to answer to you,” Bernstein said as he tugged on his tie.
“You do if you want to persuade me to go with you.”
“We’re federal agents,” Hughes said. “I’m sure you heard that much on the news.”
“Sorry, but I was too shocked that Dr. Drake was claiming I had some deadly disease. I only left the clinic because he was creeping me out. I hope you’re not creepers too.” I smiled. I wasn’t about to let them bully me.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Bernstein asked.
I shrugged. “I have my moments.”
“We’re not leaving without you,” Hughes said. “Make it easy on yourself.”
“Don’t you mean yourselves? And you never told me where you’re taking me.”
“I’d like to know that too,” Detective Blake said as he entered.
“Butt out, detective. This is federal business,” Bernstein hissed.
“Show me your badges,” Blake said.
Bernstein and Hughes flashed their badges quickly before putting them away. “Hey, I didn’t have time to see them,” I said.
Blake added, “What business do you have with Ms. Frost?”
Bernstein exhaled noisily. “We’re taking her to a federal laboratory … .”
“He means hospital,” Hughes interjected.
I swallowed hard. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, see?” I turned my back to them so they could see that I no longer possessed infected wounds. I twirled around with a smile. “I told you Dr. Drake was wrong.”
“She looks fine to me,” Blake said with a rakish smile.
Bernstein and Hughes nodded. “Seems we’ve made a mistake,” Hughes said. He nodded in Blake’s direction. “Do you mind telling me how you know Ms. Frost?”
“She’s working with me on a murder investigation. I’m sure you heard all about it. I would think you’d be more concerned about the recent murder than dragging poor Alex off to parts unknown.”
“That’s exactly what we’re concerned about; preventing anymore incidents like that happening in town.”
“Do you have a card?” Blake asked. “I could give you a call if Alex exhibits any signs of infection.”
Hughes reluctantly pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Blake. “We’ll be seeing you again, Alex.”
Blake slammed the door shut behind them.
“That sounded like a threat,” I said.
Blake read the card and with furrowed brow handed it to me.
“Agent Hughes and Bernstein, the Retrieval Division,” I read. “Is that even a real government agency?”
“I’ll certainly find out,” Blake promised.
I gave Blake a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for getting here when you did,” I said. “They were about to slap the cuffs on me.”
Blake’s cheeks flushed as he said, “I’m glad I did too. I have a bad feeling about those two.”
“I wonder what they did with Dr. Drake. Did they take him to the laboratory too?”
“Bad slip for a federal agent,” Blake said.
“Care for cola?” I asked.
“Might as well. I came back here to ask you to join me tonight on a stakeout. Bigfoot supposedly hangs out at the Naughty Divas.”
“I had no idea that Bigfoot would hang out at a strip club. I would think he’d draw unnecessary attention.”
Blake smiled as he nodded. “Hey, don’t blame me if you haven’t questioned the psychics yet. And they don’t have strippers tonight. It’s drag queen night.”
“So the psychics actually said Bigfoot is in town?”
“Something along those lines. Let’s hope it’s just a very hairy man without a record for busting up cops.”
“I can’t imagine the drag queens would go along with that. They hate to be upstaged.” I grinned. “We’re going inside I hope?”
“Sorry. We’ll be sitting in my car across the street.”
“That doesn’t sound very fun,” I sighed.
“Maybe if you’re good I’ll take you there next week.”
“No offense, Blake, but that’s not a good idea. Someone might get the wrong idea about us.”
“Nobody who knows either of us would ever come to that conclusion. Bitchy and grumpy don’t exactly get along together.”
“You say the sweetest things sometimes, Blake.”
Eight
I twisted off the cap of my diet cola and took a sip as I sat in the passenger’s seat of Blake’s sedan that sported Bondo on the driver’s side door. Blake told me this was his stakeout car, which I could believe because the backseat was loaded with empty soda cans and snack wrappers.
“Did you notice Bigfoot arriving yet?” I asked.
Blake’s eyes were on the building. “My source says he’s already inside.”
“You mean someone is actually inside and we have to sit out here? No fair.” I said. "Who gave you the tip?"
Blake put his head down and nearly whispered, “It was one of the psychics."
I laughed. “Oh, so suddenly you’re listening to the psychics?”
“I thought I’d give it a shot.”
“Did you actually tell anyone at the department that?”
“Of course not. You’re the only one who knows about the psychics, so give it a rest.”
“And you’re actually following a tip that involves Bigfoot?”
“Shh. Someone’s coming outside.”
“As if they can hear us,” I grumbled, but enjoying our banter.
Two men in three-piece suits teetered to a cab that pulled up.
“Definitely not Bigfoot,” I observed. “Do you actually know what Bigfoot looks like?”
“Good point. We should head inside.”
“This is so exciting, like a Holly Holstein news story about catching the mayor leaving his mistresses house.” I laughed as I stepped out of the car.
“How is this anything like that?”
I shrugged. “Aren’t you a little curious what we might find inside?"
“Only if it leads us to the killer.”
Blake sighed as we walked across the road. This establishment was in a deserted part of town, most of the other buildings boarded up. You couldn’t call it crime ridden; it was more of a ghost town with real ghosts if rumors were true. Not that I believe in ghosts, but I was about to meet Bigfoot.
As I strutted through the door the show was halted for intermission as pink-, purple- and blond-haired drag queens chatted with the patrons.
I strolled to the end of the mahogany bar, where I had a full view of the establishment. There were three stages, the left and right with stripper poles, leaving the middle one for the drag performances.
Blake kept his distance from me. I knew he thought we could cover more ground separately.
I wasn’t able to see any of the patrons. My eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the dim light. The bartender sauntered over with a grin. “What’s your poison, Toots.”
“Toots? Really? What is this, the forties?”
The man stood five, eight, and not that impressive in the looks department, but he had an interesting jagged scar across his cheek.
I wondered if he got it compliments of a rowdy patron on stripper night.
I smiled at the bartender. “An ice water will do. I’m working.”
“Ah, a working girl?”
“Not exactly. I’m doing some surveillance.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “You a cop?”
“Private investigator. Looking for Bigfoot. You ever seen him in here before?”
The bartender didn’t laugh, instead motioning to his right, where a six-foot-something man walked out of the bathroom … a very hairy six-foot-something man.
I grabbed a bartender tray and walked toward him when he plopped down. I smiled widely and asked, “Care for another drink?”
He glanced up at me. Bigfoot fit the description. Long hair in his face and beard. I couldn’t even see the whites of his eyes.
“What happened to Raul?”
“Smoke break.”
“You can bring me another pitcher of beer,” he said in a booming voice.
I took the empty pitcher and went back to the bar where the bartender waited. “Tell Raul to hit the pavement. I’m taking over his table there.”
“Whatever you say, little lady, but I don’t know if I can get rid of Raul. Bigfoot is a big tipper.”
“Good news for me,” I said as I slid the pitcher to him. “Bigfoot needs another pitcher of beer.”
I tapped my fingernails on the counter, keeping an eye on the suspect. Formulating a plan outside delivering the beer wasn’t so easy.
“What are you doing?” Blake asked.
“Taking the suspect a pitcher of beer. He thinks I’m a server.”
“Clever, but don’t overplay it. I’ll sit here until he shuts you down.”
It would be the joy of Blake’s night if I gave up that easy, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I set the pitcher of beer down with a groan and massaged my back. “It's been a long night.”
“You just got here,” Bigfoot said.
“You must have showed up early to get this seat.”
“You might say I have a standing reservation.”
“Does it involve strong-arming whoever was sitting here?”
“Something like that.” He swiped the hair from his eyes and peered at me. “You ask a lot of questions for a server.”
“What can I say? You’re the most curious patron in the place. It’s not every day you meet someone who looks like Bigfoot.”
The man lumbered to his feet and stared down at me. “Last person called me that wound up in the emergency room.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you. Someone referred to you that way.”
The man glanced around the place. “Who?” he asked as he clenched his fists at his side.
I swallowed hard. “He’s not here any longer,” I squeaked.
The man thumped back to his seat. “What do you want with me?”
“I’m just worried about that murder in the mountains. It’s put me a little on edge. Sorry to have bothered you. Enjoy the beer, it’s on the house.”
I made a face at Blake when I rejoined him at the bar. “I don’t know how we’ll be able to question that man. He’s a stone fall from a felon if you get him angry.”
Blake pulled out his badge. “Let me handle it.”
“You should call Detective Trevelli for backup.”
“I have backup -- you.”
I watched as Blake flashed his badge at Bigfoot and the patrons scattered like ants.
“I’m only here asking questions,” Blake assured the crowd, “about the murder that happened in the mountains. Does anyone know anything about that?”
I swallowed hard when Bigfoot rose to his feet. I was frozen in place and unable to move, fearing for Blake’s safety. But instead of violence Bigfoot ran out the door.
“Hey, he owes me for that pitcher of beer,” the bartender called out.
I slapped a twenty on the counter and headed out the door with Blake. A large drag queen with bright pink hair stepped out for a smoke.
“Hello there,” I greeted. “I hope that cop didn’t ruin the show tonight.”
The drag queen glanced down at me. “The show must go on.” She smiled as she fluttered her false eyelashes that came to three stark points. Her green eye shadow and black eyeliner complimented her emerald gown. It appeared to me that she wasn’t nearly as tall as I thought given her six-inch heels.
“Whatever he said certainly set off Earle. Not too many people leave the bar when they rile him.”
“He starts a bar fight?”
“Not much of a fight with the size of Earle’s fists. One shot is all it takes. He promised the manager he’d keep his fights outside.” She nodded. “Might want to find that friend of yours before Earle does.”
“I better run,” I said as I disappeared in the darkness.
I crossed the street and rubbed my suddenly burning eyes, which meant only one thing: My reptilian eyes were out to play. Suddenly I had stealth-like night vision and spotted movement near a tree about a hundred feet from the edge of the road.
I ran in that direction and found Bigfoot had hold of Blake’s neck as he lifted him off his feet. Blake kicked his legs in a useless attempt to inflict damage on Bigfoot.
“Let him down!” I demanded.
Bigfoot looked down at me and laughed hoarsely until I kicked his leg. He dropped Blake with a thump and squared off with me.
Blake wasn’t much help because he was on the ground struggling to breathe. But it might be for the best because I was about to take this big boy down.
“You’ve just assaulted a cop,” I informed him. “We have to take you in.”
“You and what army?”
“I don’t need an army,” I said as I punched him in the gut. He brushed off the blow as if my fist were no more than a gnat. This wasn’t good.
He made a grab for me and I ducked out of the way, raising a fist again and landing a significant blow on the side of his head. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, but by then I’d managed to knock him to his knees with a blow to his gut again, a much stronger blow. When I threw an uppercut beneath his chin I felt the bones crunch and he flew backward to the ground, where he whimpered.
I pulled out my phone and called Detective Trevelli for backup, asking for transport.
Bigfoot glanced up at me with disbelief, but I glanced over at Blake, who was only now climbing to his feet. He joined me and stared down at Bigfoot, and then at me. “What happened?”
“Lucky punch?” I shrugged. “Trevelli is enroute for the pickup.”
“Good. At least we’ll be able to question him in relative safety.”
“You’re going to let me in on the questioning?”
“I meant me and Trevelli. I can’t let you in on that, Alex, but we’ll touch base afterward. You could question the psychics,” he suggested.
“Which one called you with the tip?”
“Wilma Walfie.”
“Wolfie?”
“I said Walfie.”
“Wolfie sounds more interesting.”
“I’ll text you their address. You might have lost it the last time I gave it to you. I know you’re not that organized.”
“And the condition of your desk says you are?”
A car and a jail transport van pulled up, and Detective Trevelli ambled over. He first stared at me and Blake and then down at Bigfoot. “Did you Taser him?”
“Nope. Alex is responsible for his condition.”
“Did you hit him with a stick or whop him with a rock?”
I avoided his comment. “He needs an ambulance. I think I heard bones crushing when I hit him.”
“It’s on the way.”
An ambulance came to a screeching halt and two first-responders struggled to roll Bigfoot onto a gurney. I stood back, watching Blake and Trevelli attempting to assist.
“I’ll help,” I offered.
“We don’t want you to get hurt,” Blake groaned.
“Let her help us,
” Trevelli said. “If she took down the giant she can help us roll it on the gurney.”
I joined them and we were finally able to roll Bigfoot onto the gurney with my superior strength -- or so I believed. I had to laugh to myself about that, but I had taken the big boy down all by my lonesome. For all my arrogant talk, the reality was that Bigfoot had barely reacted to my first blow. He had the opportunity to take me down but didn’t. Although I hardly think he expected to be laid low by a woman, I’m not confident that if I had another go-around with Bigfoot it would go quite as well.
I didn’t understand what was happening, or at least all of it. My strength had increased, but it wasn’t at all clear to me whether I had control over any of it. My body healed, but I had yet to understand how, although I believed the dragon necklace responsible. As for the fire I breathed, it could mean only one thing: Somehow I had been possessed by the curse of the dragon. There was only one final step that I prayed wouldn’t happen. It might strain my working relationship with Detective Blake if I sported a full set of dragon wings.
It was no wonder Agents Bernstein and Hughes were so insistent that I go with them. Somehow they knew what I am. Now if only I could understand it myself.
Nine
I climbed the mountain trail that led to a valley full of daisies the next morning. The grassy area was untouched by the encroaching forest. Wind whipped down from the north ridge of the mountain, one of the reasons I’d decided to come here today. It was the perfect place to stretch my wings, so to speak, or at least see if I really had any.
I raced across the valley, my arms raised, enjoying the wind flowing through my hair. I closed my burning eyes, my parched throat thirsty. My back arched as pain ripped my skin, the fabric of my blouse torn away. Two long sections of bone and muscle emerged from my shoulder blades as the leathery wings of the dragon formed, emerald scales covering their span.
I tried to will my wings to flap, but they fell useless against my skin, weighing me down. I tumbled to the ground and landed face first in the dirt. I tried to move to my knees, but I was pinned beneath the massive wings. The heat in my chest and throat increased, and sulfur-flavored smoke appeared from my nostrils.
I forced myself to my knees, knowing that if I began to breathe fire it would be to the detriment of me and the lovely valley. I rolled to my back as a puff a smoke burst from between my lips. I sat up with a groan as fire erupted from my mouth toward the sky, where it harmlessly vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Curse of the Dragon Page 6