Sam sat at a table near the window, and looked up at her as she approached his table.
“My, you’re perfectly stunning,” he gushed. Getting up, he pulled out a chair at the table, and said, “Please. Have a seat.” Once seated, he pushed her chair underneath the table and sat down beside her. Now that she was next to him, she focused on his scent. It was unmistakable: this was the scent of a demon. But why would a demon be ‘courting’ her? The only thing she could do was to play along.
“So, where are you from?” she asked.
“I’m from here. Been in D.C. all my life. Started out in Chevy Chase; even went to Bethesda-Chevy Chase High School. I live in an apartment complex a couple of blocks from here on N Street. How about you? Where are you from?”
“I live in the Metro View condo complex in the Mount Vernon Triangle area: been there for a couple of months. I moved to D.C. from an obscure city in India fifty kilometers outside of Mumbai.” Eager to be more intimate with him, she asked, “So what’s your apartment like?”
“Why don’t I give you a tour?” Sam said.
“I’d love it,” she said, feeling heat rising in her. The hunt had returned, demon or not.
* * *
Saturday, September 13th
Officer Charlie Walters drove along his beat in the Penn Quarter and Chinatown neighborhoods. He cruised up 9th Street, and took a left onto F Street, since many of the young folks were busy partying at the Capital Scene. Drunk and disorderly conduct arrests happened frequently at this club, and he had participated in nearly all of them. He had made several of the arrests himself, as only one other cop drove this beat, and her job took place during the day. As per his usual procedure, he stopped in front of the club and stayed there a while. On a Saturday night like this, most of the rowdier crowd gathered here, usually resulting in some sort of disruptive behavior. After about fifteen minutes, nothing of note had occurred, except the relentless pounding of the Electronic music. “I’ve had enough of this. That stuff gives me a headache.”
His cruiser made another circuit of the area enclosed to the North by K Street, to the South by E Street, and to the East and West by 5th and 10th Streets, NW. As he drove down E Street, he turned right onto 7th Street, going North, since many of the popular venues, mostly restaurants, lined the street. Observing the clientele gathered inside and outside the restaurant, most of them quietly ate, had conversation, and lingered here, because restaurants, especially Chinese, often had a milder ambiance than those to the West along K Street and Connecticut Avenue in the DuPont Circle area. Satisfied that this area was under control, he took a right turn on K Street, which turned into New York Avenue, took a left on 9th Street, and headed back towards the Capital Scene. The time was a little past ten fifteen p.m. This was the time the partyers started revving their motors, and were on their way to being wild and crazy out of control – ‘krunk’ was the term used in popular parlance. He stayed put, in spite of the music pounding on his eardrums and his nerves, and watched for something crazy to happen.
Looking up and down the sidewalk along the North side of F Street, and trying desperately to ignore the pounding music, the sight of a young man and what appeared to be a teenaged girl caught his eye. Reading over the dossier of the pedophile case on the police-issued laptop, a picture of a man named Rob Quayle came up on his computer screen. Altering between his screen and the young man, he positively ID’ed the young man, who matched his picture to the smallest detail.
Pressing the button on the Police Band radio, he said, “Calling all units; calling all units. This is unit 957. Have made a positive ID on one Rob Quayle, wanted for rape of a minor. Need some backup. Over.” A few seconds later, a response crackled from his radio.
“Copy, unit 957: this is Unit 217. We have your six. Will arrive in five minutes. Over.”
“Copy that, 217. Over.”
He jumped out of the cruiser, and approached the man.
“Stop right there!” he shouted, pointing his police-issue Glock at the man’s chest. “Put your hands up where I can see them.”
The man froze, and slowly lifted his hands above his head. The young girl beside him wailed, “What’s going on, Rob? Why is a policeman stopping you?”
“Don’t worry, honey,” he said to the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Lisa…Lisa Hargrove,” she said.
“Tell you what, Lisa: why don’t you go and have a seat in my cruiser—in the front seat. I have some business to attend to with this man, and it shouldn’t take long. Another Police Car will be here soon, and will take you home. Okay?”
“O…Okay,” she stammered, a bewildered look in her eyes. She walked to his car, and let herself in on the passenger side of the front seat.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he barked at Rob Quayle.
“But officer, I was just on a date. Is there something wrong with that?”
“There is when you are in your mid-twenties, and the girl is in High School. Further, it doesn’t help to have a history of raping these girls.”
“But—”
“Save it, Quayle. Tell your sob story to the judge. In the meantime, I’m taking you to 300 Indiana Avenue, where you’ll spend the night in a nice, comfortable jail cell.”
The siren of Unit 217 cut through the night air, as it pulled up and stopped, lights flashing. “You okay, Charlie?” asked Craig Holloway, who patrolled a nearby neighborhood.
“Got it under control, Craig,” he answered. “I do need you to take this young lady home. She was about to be his next victim.” He turned to Lisa. “You still okay, honey?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Good. Officer Holloway will take you home.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Lisa turned to Rob and back to Charlie. “You mean this guy is one of those creeps who rapes girls like me?” Lisa started trembling.
“Yes, Lisa. He is; but you’re okay, and he’s under arrest. He won’t be bothering anyone else for quite a while. Hopefully never.”
“Thank you, Officer Walters,” said Lisa, as she gave him a hug.
Wrapping his arms around Lisa he said, “You’re very welcome, sweetie. Now hop in Officer Holloway’s car, and get yourself home, okay?”
“Okay,” she answered.
* * *
Poisonous sat at her computer, perusing the Dark Web for deals she could engage in. On the television in the living room, she could hear the news anchor reporting a story. She heard the anchor mention ‘Rob Quayle’ and it caught her attention. Getting up and heading into the living room, where Evie’s eyes were glued to the set, she watched the screen.
“Poisonous,” Evie said, “they just captured a pedophile at the Capital Scene. His name is Robert Quayle…”
Uh-oh. Sounds like Rob, who I did business with. “Huh. Let me watch this.”
“…Quayle is known to have a history of molesting young girls. He was found tonight in front of the notorious Capital Scene, where wild behavior frequently takes place. We now take you live to the scene in front of the Capital Scene. Russ, what can you tell us?”
“Well, Robin, I am talking with Officer Charlie Walters, of the District of Columbia Police Department, who made the arrest of Quayle just an hour ago.
Officer Walters, when did you know it was the man who raped Shauna Williams about a month ago.”
“Well, Russ, Mr. Quayle had been in a national database of sex offenders and pedophiles. We added him to our local database, so his picture is in our files. I was sitting in front of the Capital Scene, when I saw him coming up the sidewalk with a young girl at his side. I recognized him from the picture we have of him, and made the arrest.”
“We hear that Mr. Quayle is now in custody at the Metropolitan Police Department, being held in custody until the District Judge sets bail. Can you comment on that?”
“We believe Mr. Quayle is guilty of rape, and had committed his crimes many times before. I’m pretty sure he’ll face jail time.”
Po
isonous watched, horrified at the prospect of being associated with Quayle, and realized the security cameras might have caught her on that night as well. In fact, she realized that every time she committed a crime, they probably had a record of her being there. She needed to go back to her room.
“That’s terrible, Evie. I may know all sorts of evil, but taking advantage of children is deplorable.”
Evie said nothing; she only looked at her with suspicious eyes.
“Well,” she said, getting up to leave, “I think I’ll go back to my room. Things to do.”
Ignoring Evie’s accusing stare, she returned to her room, and contemplating the implications of what she had just heard, said, “I need to make sure that the video cameras stop wherever I go.
* * *
Officer Jill Stichler drove down K Street, surveying the people and the events of the Mount Vernon Square neighborhood she patrolled. The time on her dashboard display indicated it was ten thirty a.m. Late morning traffic was light, and most denizens of D.C. were at work. Not too many people walked the streets. The occasional courier rode by on a bike, and delivery trucks drove throughout the Downtown area, mostly on K Street. Owners of businesses made signs about things people could buy ‘today only,’ or a special sale going on. Otherwise, the scene was quiet. Heading West on K from 4th Street, the Metro View complex came into view on the right. A woman walked out of the “K” and headed west. Something looked very familiar about her. A quick scan of perps and persons of interest in the National Crime Information Center database revealed that this woman was being sought after as a person of interest. She pulled up to her, stopped the car with the tires screeching, bounded out of the cruiser and ran towards her.
“Stop right there, and put your hands in the air,” she shouted.
The woman turned and looked at her, and with a very calm voice said, “Is there a problem, officer?”
“You’re wanted for questioning,” she answered.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman answered, and looked straight at her. The woman’s eyes turned a bright red and her mind grew numb in very little time. The next thing Jill knew, a woman walked away from her, and she wondered why she was looking at her. The last thing she remembered, she was driving down K Street observing the goings on. However, she couldn’t remember stopping here, or why she now stood on the sidewalk in front of the Metro View complex.
“Oh, well. I must have thought I saw something that looked suspicious. Guess I didn’t find it.” Shaking her head, she walked back to her cruiser, and drove away.
* * *
Sam Bittenbeidter felt a very strong presence of he Light as he approached her. Something needed to be done, and fast. It was time to strike.
“Hi, Perri,” he said as he walked up to her next to the train station where she waited.
“Good to see you again. I apologize for asking you to meet me last minute, but I wanted to spend some time with you. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” she answered.
In arms reach of her, he looked at her and realized she was a very attractive woman.
Her eyes twinkled as he took her in.
“Do you like my outfit?” she asked.
“Yes. You look very attractive in it.”
Now she smiled. “Why thank you. I’d like to get to know you better as well. You’re a very handsome man, yourself.”
“Hmmm. You have my attention. I’d say we need to spend a nice evening together, so I can get to know you better.”
“Okay. What did you have in mind?”
“I thought we’d enjoy some drinks and conversation at the exclusive club on Massachusetts Avenue. It used to be a mansion, and now, is very elegantly appointed, and good for a quiet evening of drinks and good conversation.”
“Sounds positively opulent. Am I appropriately dressed?”
“You are not only appropriately dressed in evening wear, which is at once elegant and smart,” He smiled. “…but I really like your style.’
“Well, thank you,” Poisonous added.
“I look forward to finding out more about you.” The twinkle in his eyes broadcast his interest in her. To him she was not only a fellow demon, but a woman.
As he escorted her up Massachusetts Avenue from the DuPont Circle Metro station, arm in arm, they approached the elegant old mansion, which had been tastefully redone. He led her to a private booth, and asked her, “What would you have for a cocktail?”
“I’ll have a Morjim Goa,” she said. “A spicy Indian drink.”
A wave of his hand brought a host to their table.
“The lady will have a Morjim Goa, and I’ll have a bottle of Johnny Walker Honour, and a ten ounce tumbler chilled, please.”
As the host left, he asked, “So what do you do here in Washington?”
She said, “I dabble in many lines of business, but I have to say something before the night goes on.”
“Speak your mind.”
“I think we’d better discuss it later at your apartment. I wouldn’t want to disturb the clientele here.”
“So your question is disturbing? Huh. Well; we’ll certainly have to discuss this further.”
The evening went on in a comfortable fashion; each of them shared pleasantries, made each other laugh. She flirted, and he gamely charmed her in return.
“Well, let’s remove ourselves to my place,” he suggested.
Poisonous agreed. “Yes, let’s.”
The look of desire in her eyes did not escape his notice.
In Snakebite’s apartment, he led her to the living room area, and they sat down on the divan.
“May I just clear the air?” Poisonous asked.
“Why yes. Of course. Please do, in fact,” he replied.
“I know you’re a demon. I can smell it. And in fact, I find it very appealing.”
He hesitated at first, but relaxed. “Yes. I am. I’m known as Snakebite. I decided to come check on you at Lucifer’s suggestion, and make sure the Light doesn’t take you off track. I’ve heard that it envelops you where you live.”
“Lucifer suggested that I be watched? Well honestly, I’m glad you’re here, because the Light in my apartment is slowly driving me insane. Its effects on you are awful. I need someone like you around to keep me on my evil game. Thanks for coming to D.C.”
“I must admit, although it is Lucifer’s business, I’m pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable it is accompanying such an attractive woman.”
“Well, if I’m really that attractive, why don’t we find better things to do than talk?”
He smiled.
* * *
The ride home in the TNC car found her thinking. This Sam/Snakebite had really captured her attention: she had thought about their time together since she had left his condo. Feelings had started growing in her heart, which surprised her. Was she falling for a demon? At least he was a demon, and not a human, especially with the Light in him. No. This had to be wrong. Demons don’t fall in love.” Do they? She couldn’t stop thinking about him, and actually smiled all the way home.
Sixteen
Monday, September 15th
Barbara Haywood paced the floor in her office. No reports had come in since she issued the All Points Bulletin to catch this Indian woman who was their chief suspect in many criminal acts. She sat back down at her desk, and called her immediate subordinate, Colonel Bryson Jackson to her office.
“Colonel Jackson; we’ve had the APB out for this female suspect for almost a week, and there have been no sightings. I find this a bit disturbing, to be quite frank. You have any ideas or information?”
“Well, Chief. We have not seen her on the streets, but we do have security footage on the Metro of her. We’ve found that she typically gets in at the Mt Vernon Square/7th St-Convention Center Station. There is footage there of her riding the train. We just recently have her riding to the DuPont Circle station. Of course, when she leaves the station, we lose track of her.”
>
“Well, I’m not sure how she does it, but we need to be careful when we approach her. Anybody who goes near her seems to forget ever seeing her.”
* * *
Tuesday, September 16th
The weather was crisp, and the sunshine a hazy orange-yellow, much like the leaves as they began to change colors. The first official day of Fall was six days away, but the muggy humidity had calmed a bit, and the temperature wasn’t as overbearing as it had been most of the summer. Poisonous noticed the change in temperature for the first time in her existence. Fall had never affected her as a demon, but now it felt good on her skin. As was her habit since her tenure on earth started, she walked to the Metro station at Mt Vernon Square/7th St-Convention Center.
Today, she had arranged to meet Snakebite at his condo. She wanted to devise a plan to wreak havoc in the lives of humans—especially the younger ones—whose ideas and ideals were more based on romance and youthful optimism. Younger ones hadn’t the time to learn wisdom from living life for many years. Snakebite and she had agreed to meet at his condo first, because making diabolical plans in public would arouse suspicion and trouble; mostly in the form of mass chaos, and if members of the Light were there, a powerful impediment to their plans.
She changed to the Red Line at Gallery Place, took the Red Line to the DuPont Circle Station, from whence she walked to his Condo complex, and took the elevator to his room. A quick knock on the door, and footsteps approached.
“Welcome,” Snakebite said. “You look lovely today per usual. Please come in.”
Poisonous: A Visit To Earth (DC Angels Book 2) Page 19