“Now,” Lani said.
The door was flung open, then slammed closed. Brownie leaned over the table.
“Watch your blood pressure, Brownie,” Leo said.
“Yeah, boss, you look really terrible,” Lani said. “You want me to make you some chicken soup, maybe?”
Brownie glared at her. “You’re a Cajun from Louisiana, for Christ sake. What the hell do you know about making chicken soup?”
Lani looked hurt. “I can make a gumbo.”
“The last time I ate a bowl of your gumbo, I squirted fire for three days. And don’t change the subject.”
“What subject might that be, Brownie?” Leo asked.
“What subject?” Brownie shook the papers in front of the two cops. “This goddamn subject. Werewolves? Immortals? Stakes through the heart. I mean, come on now. You can’t expect me to stand up on a nationwide TV and radio hookup and read this. Can you?”
“It’s what happened, Brownie,” Lani said. “It’s the truth. You were there the last few minutes. You saw enough to know we weren’t dealing with mere human beings.”
Brownie relaxed and sat down. Leo got him a cup of coffee. He took a sip and sighed. “Jesus, what am I going to say to the press?”
“Brownie, you want us to falsify a report?” Leo asked. “All you have to do is say the word.”
“I won’t order you to do that. I would never order a cop to do that.”
Lani looked at her copy of the prelim. “We can rewrite it and still tell the truth; we’ll just leave a few facts out. But everything else will be the truth. As far as we know it. Sheriff, I . . .” She shrugged her shoulders and closed her mouth.
“I know, Lani. I inspected the warehouse. What else is there to say?”
“Nothing,” Leo finished it.
* * *
Lani and Leo worked up their reports and Brownie was satisfied and so was the press. The reign of terror was over. Now the cops could get back to the everyday routine of child abuse, elderly abuse, animal abuse, murder, rape, kidnapping, domestic disturbances, holdups, prostitution, gambling, gangs, hit and run, DWI, and drugs . . . all pretty mundane stuff.
Jack and Jim Longwood had been correct about at least one thing: their trail of blood set records in America that surpassed even that of Vlad the Impaler.
Connie and Frank turned the classified information about the elder Longwoods still being alive over to their superiors in the Bureau. If anything was ever done about it, that news never reached Lani and Leo.
Lani called her parents and inquired about her grandfather’s background. Her mother told her never to ask again and hung up on her.
Stacy Ryan and Leo Franks could have sued for their share of the Longwood monies. They did not. Stacy continued to run KSIN, and Leo was promoted to the rank of lieutenant on the Hancock County Sheriff’s Department, and Lani was promoted to sergeant.
At the insistence of Lani and Leo, the bodies of Jack and Jim Longwood were cremated and the ashes sealed in a concrete and steel tomb.
On the afternoon following the cremation and burial of Jack and Jim Longwood, Leo got a call at his office. Father Daniel from his flower shop back in New York State. Leo listened, said goodbye, and hung up.
“What?” Lani asked, after looking at the strange expression on her partner’s face.
“The old Longwood mansion in Albany.”
“What about it?”
“It collapsed about an hour ago.”
LYRICAL UNDERGROUND BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 1994 William W. Johnstone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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First electronic edition: April 2016
ISBN: 978-1-6018-3529-1
Night Mask Page 27