by Aimée Thurlo
Just before dawn, Lee met Diane beside the road north of the Silver Eagle house. She reached out and unlocked the door as he came up from the shoulder, and slipped onto the seat.
“Welcome back, Lee. You look like crap,” Diane said.
“Glad to be here, or anywhere, for that matter. Where’s the water?” Lee took the bottle she offered him and drank greedily, emptying the container.
“More?” Diane turned around in the seat, and reached between the cushions, grabbing another bottle from the rear floorboard.
“Thanks.” Lee opened the cap and took a sip. “Thank God for cell phones. I didn’t want to come back the same way I left, not after my encounter with the wolves. I’ll risk the border patrol any day. What are our friends doing now?”
“Marie and the others left the house about ten minutes ago. I’d backed off down a side road so they wouldn’t pass right by me on the way out.”
“Just head back north and we should be able to pick up that tracker again. It’s out of range by now, right?” Lee sat up straight, took a deep swig of water, then fastened his seat belt.
As Diane drove, Lee quickly gave her a synopsis of what had happened since they’d parted, then waited for her report.
She told him quickly about the nonevents of the past day and a half, then caught him up to date on the details of the wolves’ return and Marie’s reaction.
“Angela must have told her what happened to Raymus. Marie beat the crap out of them, knowing they’d heal when they morphed back into humans. If she’d broken their bones or cut them up later they would have been of no use to her for quite a while.” While he was talking, Lee found a box of granola bars and started eating one.
“We know where they’re headed, right? Back to Albuquerque by the same route?”
“It’s the shortest distance. I guess we’ll find out,” Lee said, closing his eyes. “Wake me up when the signal kicks in again, okay?”
“Okay. Glad you made it back, Lee. How tough was it?”
“Tough enough. I just hope they haven’t made me. I still don’t know if they got lucky spotting me or if Angela found a way to tip them off without risking her own tail.”
“Can’t trust a skinwalker, Lee. That’s what you told me.”
“Yeah, I did. Words to live by.”
CHAPTER 14
lka drove through section B of the hospital parking lot. In the E-mails she and Bridget had exchanged last night she’d given the key phrase that determined which prearranged meeting locations they’d use.
She glanced casually at the parked vehicles for the recognition signal. Bridget’s vehicle would have the sun visor down with a postcard fastened to it.
Elka knew where Rogers was staying at the moment and had already come up with an alternative strategy for getting to the target. Now that it was obvious that she was in the area, law enforcement and government security agencies would make it difficult for her to get close. But Bridget, looking no more dangerous than a high-school cheerleader, might be able to make the lethal move.
Unfortunately Bridget had announced, with another key phrase, that she’d been unable to kill Officer Nez. Perhaps the opportunity would come up later, but now another target had priority.
Elka was eager to speak with Bridget again in some form other than code phrases in made-up conversations. They hadn’t had contact for a week now and there was a lot of information that needed to be exchanged, including the reason for Bridget’s failure to kill the Navajo vampire.
The parking lot was full at eight in the morning, with many outpatients visiting the attached clinic, so Elka surmised that Bridget might have been circling, trying to find a place in the B section. Turning down the next row, Elka saw what she was searching for. The third vehicle, a small Chevy sedan, had the proper signal.
Bridget, wearing one of those long-billed caps she’d seen on young mothers pushing baby carriages from here to Santa Fe, was sitting in the driver’s seat reading a paperback novel. New Mexico was such a sunny place that her sunglasses, and Elka’s, didn’t look out of place.
Daylight had been chosen as the time to meet in order to throw off Officer Hawk/Nez, who must have pointed out to the other law-enforcement officers that her group was most active at night. Nez and Lopez had undoubtedly been informed of her presence in New Mexico.
Elka drove past slowly, lowering her own sun visor but making a point of not turning her head while she watched Bridget.
Continuing on to the end of the row, Elka paused, checking in the rearview mirror to confirm that Bridget was on the move. Knowing the girl would be following closely, Elka drove to the end of the parking lot, waited until the traffic was clear, then pulled out and drove south. Bridget followed, hurrying to close the distance to about five car lengths.
An hour later, after driving around the city to insure that they weren’t being followed, Elka pulled off the highway at the south end of a community named Corrales and drove east down a dirt road lined by tall trees. She’d already scouted out the place and knew there’d be plenty of shade this time of the morning. The few flat-roofed houses she saw were set well back from the road, so they would have plenty of privacy to talk.
Stopping beside a wire fence that formed a property line between houses, Elka was able to safely roll down her window. She watched in her rearview mirror as Bridget’s vehicle approached.
Bridget pulled up even with Elka, stopped, and rolled down the passenger-side window so they could talk. “Nez never showed up,” Bridget said quickly. “I could tell he hadn’t been there for several days. Maybe I can track him down after we take care of your priority target. I read Nez’s mail and got the FBI woman’s new address.”
A white van with no markings came out to the street from a driveway across the street, and the man behind the wheel watched them curiously. “The government must know I’m in the area, because they just increased security on Rogers, so let’s continue this back at my place. I’m staying at 7800 Montgomery NE in Albuquerque, apartment 1017. Follow me if you want, just remember to break off if you spot a tail. If we get separated, maintain strict security—no calls, just E-mail.”
Elka rolled up her window and signaled Bridget to move on. Once the girl’s car was down the street, Elka looked over and saw that the man in the van had pulled into the street and was driving away. Elka continued east, circled the block, then drove back to the main road, moving slow so that Bridget could keep her in sight. Soon Elka saw Bridget’s vehicle about a quarter mile back.
Anger boiled inside her. Bridget had just lied to her. The American girl had been looking in her direction while speaking, but she’d never made eye contact. A sure sign when dealing with Bridget. Maybe she just didn’t have the guts to kill someone, even when big money was involved. Overall, Bridget’s loyalty was questionable at best. It had only been the promise of money that had kept the girl from running off once they’d separated to come to the U.S. Relying on Bridget from this point on would be a mistake.
She’d driven less than a mile farther when blue and red lights began flashing from the dashboard of a black SUV coming up fast behind her. Elka noted a speed-limit sign on the right side of the road which read 25, then looked down at her speedometer. “Shit. I’m only going a little over thirty.”
Taking a deep breath, Elka slowed and pulled over to the graveled shoulder of the road. Above her to the right were the high banks of an irrigation ditch that probably functioned as an flood levee, and beyond that trees and a few houses. The sun was high enough that it wouldn’t be shining directly into her side window—one less worry.
In her rearview mirror she could see only one uniformed officer in the shiny vehicle and he was on the radio, probably calling in the tag number of her rented car. Farther back down the road she noticed that Bridget had pulled over to the side. Bridget was an excellent thief, but still hadn’t had very much training in tradecraft. Staying in the area under these circumstances wasn’t a very good move.
Bridget ha
dn’t really bonded to the family in the six months she’d been around. That alone made her an undependable ally. But after the loss of Jochen and the others, she’d really needed the girl’s help to complete this final act of retribution. Maybe now that Bridget had missed out on Nez, for whatever the reason, she’d have the incentive to do her part in the next phase of the operation. After all, partial payment for her services was bound to look better to Bridget than coming out of this empty-handed. If there was one thing Bridget knew, it was the value of money.
Elka removed the pistol from her purse and placed it under the seat. She sat up slightly, adjusted her hair, then practiced an apologetic smile. She could pass for thirty, was in excellent shape, and had on a tight turtleneck sweater. Men often gave her a second or third look, so chances were that she’d be able to charm the man into a warning if she flirted.
She hoped her change in hair color and colored contact lenses had altered her appearance enough that he wouldn’t recognize who she really was despite her German accent. It was doubtful that a cop from a small town would have looked closely at any flyers, assuming they’d been distributed in the area in the first place.
Elka watched the officer in the side mirror. He was writing a ticket attached to a small clipboard as he approached, which also meant he couldn’t quickly draw his sidearm. Careless and complacent. Her weapon was within reach, less than two seconds away. If she had to shoot, he’d eat a bullet by the time he realized she even had a gun.
“Good morning, ma’am.” The fortyish black-haired man smiled from behind the dark glasses. “Please turn off your engine.” His gaze went quickly from her face to her breasts, then back up. A microphone on his uniform front, below the left epaulet, was connected to a tape recorder in his pocket, and his gold badge indicated that he was a member of the Corrales Police Department. “Driver’s license, please.”
She handed him the phony operator’s license, which was for the state of Rhode Island. In her experience, it was easier to fake a document that was most likely unfamiliar to the person who’d be examining it.
“You’re a long way from home, Mrs. Henderson,” the officer said, looking at the license casually before placing it beneath the clamp on his clipboard.
“I just love your beautiful state, and the people have been so friendly. Was I speeding? The speed limit is thirty-five, isn’t it?” She smiled widely, taking off her sunglasses for a moment so he could see her beautiful brown contact lenses. Putting them back on, she unfastened her seat belt and turned toward the door, parting her legs slightly.
“It’s twenty-five, Mrs. Henderson. But you’re obviously not from around here, so I’m going to give you a warning—this time.” He looked at her again, very closely, his eyes narrowing. His mouth opened slightly, and she saw his arms tense up as he realized his hands were full. He knew who she was!
Elka reached down below the seat with her right hand slowly and he followed the motion with his eyes instead of watching where her left arm was going.
She grabbed the back of his collar with her left hand and slammed his throat against the window frame. She held him there, pinned against the car. He gagged, eyes bulging and arms thrashing about as he tried to grab his pistol. His uniform cap fell onto her lap. With the heel of her right hand she jabbed upward, catching him under the chin and snapping his head back. There was a mushy crunch.
She supported the officer with her left hand to keep him from slumping down as a vehicle with a woman and an infant in a car seat passed by. Hopefully it would look obscene rather than deadly. Behind her she could see Bridget’s car still beside the road, but the street was clear otherwise.
With her left hand still on his collar, Elka lowered him as far as she could before letting him drop to the ground. Quickly she opened the door, picked up the dead officer by the leather belt and collar, and shoved him onto the backseat. Her sunblock would give her a few minutes’ protection, but here beside the road in broad daylight, being seen by a passerby was potentially as dangerous as direct sunlight.
Already feeling heat on her hands, Elka grabbed the police officer’s clipboard, which held her drivers license and the ticket he was writing. She scanned the ground around her car. Spotting his pen, she picked it up quickly and jumped back into her vehicle. When she tossed the clipboard onto the seat beside her she could see a flyer beneath the ticket he’d started to write. The flyer, in color, included a close-up photo of her at the Dallas airport.
Rolling up the window and thinking how glad she was that she’d learned to read people so well, she glanced over and saw Bridget passing by slowly, staring, her eyes wide open. “Keep going,” Elka mouthed, motioning with her hand to urge her along.
Bridget picked up speed and drove on. Elka started the engine, checked behind the police vehicle for oncoming traffic, then pulled out quickly, accelerating nearly to the speed limit.
She had to do something about the dead officer in the back right away. If any taller vehicle, like a truck, passed by and the driver or a passenger looked down, the body on the backseat would be clearly visible.
Elka slowed and took a side road—another residential street in a nearly rural area with houses on large lots. At the next intersection she turned again, looking for a spot where one of the large, old trees shaded the road. She drove on past several upper-middle-class houses with green fields around them, then passed over a large irrigation ditch. Two large trees—she thought they might be cottonwoods—were on either side of the road. Pulling over to the right, Elka parked in the shade.
Getting out quickly, she reached in the back and rolled the dead officer’s body onto the floorboards, then spread her extra jacket over him as much as possible, covering his upper torso. It would have to do. She still had at least another twenty-minute drive through the city back to her apartment, and traffic was heavy with many people still on their way to work. If anyone came up and looked in, they’d spot the body immediately. It was too risky. She’d have to dump the dead policeman.
Elka cursed her luck and decided to head away from the city. Bridget would be waiting at the apartment when she finally caught up to her, assuming the girl didn’t bail on her now. But it was quickly becoming clear that she’d have to think of a whole new strategy—and maybe a new target as well—to get what she wanted.
CHAPTER 15
ee had done the driving for the past two hours. He looked away from morning rush-hour freeway traffic toward the horizon, then checked his watch. The sun was rising above the Manzano Mountains and Diane was just stirring on the seat beside him.
The ring of Diane’s phone woke her up completely and she answered it with a surly voice. “Good morning, sir,” she said, mouthing the word “Logan” and sitting up, her tone changing in an instant. “We’ve made some major breakthroughs but I’m still in transit. I could give you a summary now and E-mail the rest in two hours.”
Listening to her supervisors response, Diane looked around, quickly orienting herself by noting the relative distance from their location to the Sandias and Manzanos. The closer the Sandias, the closer to Albuquerque. Then she saw the downtown area several miles to the north. “We’re about ten minutes out of the city.” Listening again, she nodded, then glanced over at Lee again. “Meet at the Truman gate again? We can be there in …”
“Fifteen,” Lee said.
“Fifteen minutes if the traffic down Gibson cooperates,” she replied. “Yes, sir, well be there.”
“What’s so urgent?” Lee asked as soon as she hung up.
“That vampire woman, Elka, may have killed a Corrales cop. It all happened about an hour ago, apparently.” Diane looked closely at a van Lee was passing as he moved toward the left-hand lane on the freeway. The Gibson exit was only a few minutes farther north.
“Full vampires can’t take more than a few minutes in the sun, even with major sunblock. What the hell is she doing outside this time of day?”
Fifteen minutes later Lee and Diane sat down in folding chairs acro
ss the table from SAC Logan in the same guardhouse they’d visited before. Traffic was moving along slowly outside, predictable this time of day, but it was just a dull rumble with the door closed.
“Okay, here’s what happened this morning. A Corrales police officer in an unmarked vehicle pulled over a female in a Chevy sedan just after 9 A.M. The officer called his dispatcher, gave his location, then waited until the plate was run. It’s an airport rental. Then dispatch lost contact with the officer. Backup was sent, and the officer’s vehicle was found, but nothing else—no cop, no speeder.”
“There must have been a witness or else a video camera in the officer’s vehicle,” Diane offered.
“Exactly. The investigating cop played back the video and from the description I heard the woman driver broke the cop’s neck with her bare hands, then just threw him into the backseat. She picked up his clipboard and pen, then drove off in a hurry. And, get this—she looked back at the unmarked SUV and the camera got a good shot of her. It looks like Elka, though she was wearing dark glasses and maybe a wig. The woman must be as strong as hell to do what she did.”
Lee nodded, noting silently that Elka had left her car for only a few seconds. “Anything else?”
“Apparently another sedan drove past just after the perp threw the cop’s body in the backseat. It slowed for a second, but was waved on by Elka. The officers are trying to get a tag number on that vehicle,” Logan added.
“That’s it?” Diane asked.
“Just about. The Corrales police got a call about fifteen minutes after the officer’s vehicle was located. Another civilian who had apparently passed by just before the officer was killed, or during the attack, saw the officer with his head inside the perp’s driver-side window. He was behaving strangely, according to the witness,” Logan concluded.