“The van is waiting,” he said before helping me to my feet and escorting me out of whatever office I had been stashed into.
I knew exactly where we were headed, but I didn’t see the point. Jessup had already tried to get inside my condo, and he was stopped by the presence of the Detail’s goon squad. Even a dimwitted brute like him could figure out it was too risky to come back when there was a possibility someone would still be standing guard. But Castellano and company insisted. There was a process they went through on these things, and one of the first steps was to lull the subject into a feeling of self-satisfiedness, whatever that means. I’d have thought just catching the freak was the most important thing, but apparently I was wrong. For a group like the Detail, secrecy was priority number one—first, last, and always.
While I was sleeping, a tech team had been busy transforming my home. Cameras and other devious forms of surveillance equipment had been situated in nearly every conceivable location. I didn’t learn about any of it until I was in the van, seconds from being let out, in the midst of Douglass’ final spiel. He was pummeling me with instruction after instruction, reminding me of everything that needed to be taken into account over the course of the evening. The Detail itself was remaining close by. They’d appropriated the buildings on both sides of me, and two more at the front and back gates. Once I went inside, I was to go about my normal activities, as if nothing else was going on. A secondary phone system had been installed in the kitchen and in my bedroom. Douglass said I’d recognize the devices right away—they were both red and placed next to my generic store-bought phones. If I needed to contact anyone in ‘our group’, I was to use that line. Someone would always be on the other end for me. If there were any suspicious noises, I was to call in at once, no hesitations. According to Douglass, there was no such thing as a mistake or a false hit. I let him simmer for a moment after he was done, staring at him blankly to let him know his Mr. Cool act had no effect on me whatsoever.
“May I get out now,” I said, pushing him aside with the back of my bandaged hand.
“Do you understand everything I’ve told you?”
Half out of the vehicle, I peered back at him. “Do you think I’m retarded or something?”
“No.”
“Then I understand. Nothing you said was that earth-shattering.” I reached over and slammed the door on him. The van surged ahead, leaving me in front of the concrete path which wound up to my swanky new front door. The sun above me had just begun to dim. After all of Douglass’ grousing, there had been no reason to hurry. We’d arrived in plenty of time.
I swept inside and locked the deadbolt behind me. Dragging myself to the kitchen, I found nothing out of place, no trace at all that workmen had turned the place into a virtual fortress. Even the television was still on, blasting out the news, just like I had left it.
My stomach growled, which reminded me to eat. I hadn’t done so since Angie and I hit a drive-thru after we’d been suspended. I feared there wouldn’t be much for me in the fridge, but when I opened it, I found just the opposite. The shelves were filled with fresh fruits and vegetables. A loaf of bread was stowed in there as well, the wheat kind I always bought for myself—and stacks of sliced sandwich meat of every variety. Clearly, a couple of creepos had been digging through my trash to see what I liked. I didn’t think about that for very long; I was too hungry to give a crap. I made myself a big sandwich—a ham and turkey concoction—and wolfed it down standing at the counter. I finished swallowing and filled a glass of water from an inset dispenser on the fridge, and snagged a red apple for good measure. I turned off the lights and the television and went upstairs to shower and change.
Halfway up the steps, the phone rang. I wasn’t sure if it was one of the new red ones or not, so I hustled into my room. The two phones were so close together on my nightstand, I wasn’t positive which one was clamoring at me. But since the trilling was familiar, I figured it was my home line. I set down the apple and the water and picked up the receiver. The tan cord was twisted into knots and dragged the bottom half of the phone with it as I brought the damn thing to my face.
“Hello,” I said as I attempted to stretch out the kinked-up cord.
“Gracie, it’s me Angie.” My partner’s voice was hushed, unsure of herself. “Are you sleeping?”
“Not currently. I’ve been sleeping all day, though.”
“Me, too,” she said.
I finally gave up on the cord and let it do whatever it was going to do. I fell back onto my unmade bed. “What lazy bastards we are. It’s not like something big happened to us last night or anything.”
Angie tried to laugh, but she didn’t sound that enthused. “Do you wanna do something tonight?”
I was forced to lie to her without a single second of preparation. “I can’t. The evil stepmother and baby brother are in town, and I have been shanghaied into dinner. Sorry about that. I know it sucks being alone right now.” Angie had only just broken up with her live-in girlfriend, which was all secret and hush-hush, so she was on her own in a way that she wasn’t really used to. It made me hate myself for lying to her. She was a fucking great friend.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “Did you just tell me you agreed to have dinner with your stepmother? You hate her. Why would you do that?”
Good question, I thought. “She just showed up at my door with Grant Jr. and I couldn’t say no, not to him.”
“I bet you wish you could go back to being incognito again, huh? I think you liked living family-free.”
“It was ideal while it lasted.” On my dresser, directly across from me, I saw what looked like a rifle laid out in front of the mirror. I didn’t tend to leave that sort of thing sitting around, so it sure wasn’t mine. I kept on talking. “Nothing lasts forever, sadly. Sometimes your hand is forced, and you just have to be social.”
“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow? I can pick you up.”
“Sounds good.” I sat up and slid off the front of the bed. “But I’ll have to get back to you. I need to make sure Deanna hasn’t made further plans.” I approached the dresser. There was a note with the rifle. The cord was keeping me from getting close enough to read it.
“I’ll call you in the morning to check in. You have yourself a good time tonight,” Angie said with a snicker.
“Smart ass. I’ll talk to you later.” I pressed the bottom button on the receiver and tossed the phone back in the direction of the bed. I could hear it plop twice on top of the covers.
As I examined the rifle more closely, I could see that it was of the dart-firing variety. The note, written in block letters, read: THERE’S A HANDGUN VERSION IN THE KNIFE DRAWER IN THE KITCHEN. YOU NEVER KNOW. ONE OF THESE MIGHT COME IN HANDY. I picked up the long-necked firearm and checked it, making sure I understood how the darts were loaded. Once I got a handle on the piece, I put it back down.
I stood in front of the mirror and unfurled my bandages. One wrist was feeling fairly decent, but the bad one still ached. Ready to shower, I slipped my t-shirt over my head, only remembering the surveillance cameras as I was wadding the garment into a ball. I stared at the walls, searching for where the peepers might be looking in. I saw no sign of anything. Fortunately, I had never been that modest. I stripped down to my bare skin and flipped the bird on both fingers, spinning around in a slow, 360º circle. Then and only then, did I make my way to the shower.
Together
We played the waiting game for four days, until by mutual acclimation to reality, the entire team decided to give up. Jessup wasn’t going to show, not to my condo anyway. Nobody pointed fingers, but only an idiot wouldn’t get that it was time to try something else. Annoyingly for moi, the something else the Detail came up with involved me in an evening gown, at a restaurant with one of my drooling male colleagues. Castellano let me choose between Racine and Douglass, and since not even a crazed vampire would believe I would date someone as tough to look at as Racine, his male model partner won the assignment.
Douglass was grinning from ear to ear when I had to make my decision in front of everyone at the bullpen. That time I did slap him, but not very hard. I considered it fair warning.
For the new plan to fool anyone, though, we would have to make a genuine show of things. But we also had no idea where Jessup was or how much he was actually seeing. This meant, when the sun went down, everything had to be played for real. Douglass needed to pick me up at my place in whatever piece of crap he drove and show me the town. And I had to pretend to enjoy it.
At 3 p.m., I was escorted back to the condo and told to wait for a call informing me that Douglass was on his way. I assured everyone I had suitable clothing for what was now being called ‘the big date’. I was a woman after all and sometimes needed such things. But nobody, including Castellano, would take my word for it. To refute everyone’s biased opinion of me, I led Beth Ganna upstairs to get her approval of the dress. When she saw it, she said it would work fine, and then burst out laughing.
“Douglass is a breast man,” she said, sliding her fingers down the sheer fabric. “You’d better watch yourself.”
I had to admit, the dress was pretty low-cut. But it was also the only fashionable one that I owned anymore.
Ganna and I had been spending a lot of time together, and she’d turned out to be an okay cop. Because she was Polynesian, she looked enough like Angie where she could pretend to be her in public, granting her the thankless job of escorting me back and forth from work. At the beginning, I suggested bringing Angie herself into the fold, but I was overruled on that one. Too many novices, they said. This forced me to keep lying to Angie. We still hadn’t gotten together to hang out, and our hearing date was just a few days away. I felt like shit about all the subterfuge, but there wasn’t much I could do.
Douglass’ reservation was for eight. He arrived in a blue Camaro at a quarter till. I watched him through the peephole. He was wearing a smarter suit than usual, and I liked the color on him, charcoal gray. He rang the doorbell and I checked myself in the mirror I had hanging next to my door. Because my hair was already short, I kept it down. I’d also dabbed on a bit of eyeliner and painted my lips red, which I’d rarely done since I’d escaped the jet set world my father was so obsessed with. The infamous dress, now slung over me, was knee-length and black, and my tits were definitely on display. I opened the door so the gawking could begin.
But it never did. Douglass was a totally different guy, smiling and happy, and only looking me straight in the eyes. He said hello with a lilt to his voice and leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Then, as he pulled away, he squeezed my arm. He smelled good, and I told him so as we walked arm and arm to his car, which he claimed to have rebuilt all on his own. Neither of us said much while we were en route. He didn’t take the 10, I did mention that. But he thought a scenic drive would be better, in case someone was following. I was annoyed at myself for not thinking of that. It was a good thing one of us was paying attention.
The old-world Italian restaurant he had chosen seated us at once. There was only one other couple in there that I could see. The place was smaller than I was expecting, but still very upscale—and not too far from my condo. The large front picture windows, which made the space easy to see into, were operationally advantageous as well. The spot was perfect, as far as I could tell.
Douglass held out the chair for me, and I sat down. He danced back around me and took a seat himself. The waiter tried to initiate some small talk, but Douglass cut him right off and ordered white wine for the both of us. Not long after, we were on our own and free to speak.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
My head tilted to one side, not sure what he meant by the compliment. “He can’t hear us, you know. Even if he’s out there spying, we can still talk normally. You don’t have to lay it on so thick.”
“I hear you. But am I allowed to say what I think?”
“You are allowed to say whatever the hell you want to say.”
“Then I say you’re beautiful.”
He crossed his arms, waiting for me to respond. I felt like I had no choice but to reciprocate. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He smiled. “You realize that’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything. We barely know each other. Give me some time. I usually warm up to the people I work with.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. You have a notorious reputation. You must know that.”
“Not everyone appreciates a person who speaks the truth.” I glanced out the window, realizing that I had no clue where the Detail was watching us from. I was so caught up in the issues surrounding the damn dress, I didn’t ask any questions before I left the bullpen. I knew I wasn’t miked up, so I could only assume that Douglass was. And there had to be some sort of team watching us out there, or possibly one in the restaurant as well. The Detail had been impressively thorough so far in their other field actions. Why wouldn’t they be thorough in here as well? I was about to ask Douglass if this was a real establishment when the waiter returned with our drink order on a tray. I looked him over as he poured the wine into each of our glasses, but his square face was not the least bit familiar.
“Are you ready to order?” he asked, leaving the remainder of the bottle near Douglass and standing with the tray hanging at his side.
Douglass again did the honors for the both of us, telling the waiter we would like two Chicken Marsalas—my favorite dish. There was no way he could pull a bullseye like that without outside assistance.
“You seem to know a lot about me,” I said once the waiter was out of earshot.
Douglass took a drink of his wine. “Is this really what we want to talk about?”
“Yeah, I think need to. Obviously someone has been giving up a few of my secrets. And since I’m only friendly with a couple of people on the force, I wonder who that could be? Burt Kendrick maybe?”
“I will not give up my sources.” He set down his glass. “But this defensiveness is the kind of thing that people point out about you. You are not the least bit trusting and you domineer every situation you are placed into. One of your superiors even went as far as to say you are not a team player. Do you realize how damaging that is to a cop’s reputation? The literal kiss of death.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard this crap, but I’d been the one who had pushed things, so I couldn’t get too defensive.
“I neither condone or reject anything you’ve regurgitated. But you’ve been working with me for a decent stretch now. What do you think of my ability to be a team player?”
“I can’t say, not with any perspective. I think you’re beautiful, remember? That kind of trumps everything else, at least in my mind.”
I leaned back, instantly suspicious. “Was tonight your idea, Detective? Is all of this your lame way of getting close to me?”
“You don’t seem to be having such a bad time.”
“I never said that I was. But I might start to if I find out that tonight has been one big scam.”
“It’s not a scam.”
“The Detail is watching us then?”
“They are. And listening to us.”
“And you don’t mind letting your feelings be known while everyone you work with is listening in?”
“Only Sam is listening in. And he knows precisely how I feel about you. He’s known since the moment we met at the murder scene.”
“Then maybe I should have picked him for this date,” I said, in an attempt to knock Douglass down a peg or two. “Racine would never use an important operation to try and get into my pants.”
“Give him half a chance he might. I’m surprised the whole department doesn’t hit on you. There are not many cops who look like you do.” His eyes widened and his head began to sway. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.”
His obsession with my looks irked me, so I glanced away
. “I loathe compliments. You’re not going to seduce me that way.”
When I turned back a few seconds later, he was still staring at me.
“You’re lying,” he said. “You love it.”
“I’m many things, but I’m no liar. You, on the other hand, could be that or worse, and I’m starting to get concerned. I seem to have picked up two lunatic admirers. Tell me, Douglass, am I going to need special protection from you after all this is over?”
“Come on,” he said, his voice taking on a whine. “Can you just call me Mac from now on?”
“Why? Is that important to you?”
“Yeah, it is. You always refer to me by my last name, and I’d rather you didn’t. My friends call me Mac. My partner calls me Mac. There’s no reason you can’t call me that as well. It’s what everyone at work calls me.”
He had a point. “Mac is short for what…McCarthur?
“Mackenzie.”
I made a sickened face, my nostrils flaring. “Isn’t that a girl’s name?”
“It can be used either way. But that’s why I prefer to be called Mac. That and the fact that my last name is also a first name. All I can say is my parents weren’t thinking straight when they named me.”
“Oh, don’t sell them short. Maybe they realized something you still haven’t.”
The kitchen door swung open and the smell of sautéed mushrooms wafted inward. I was hungrier than I thought, and the food was taking forever, like it always does in the swankier establishments. I began to eye my glass of wine. I’d become incredibly relaxed and wanted to partake, but I knew I needed my wits about me, for any number of reasons. It was best to wait. The most I could allow myself was a few swallows with dinner, and that was it.
Before our chitchat could continue, the waiter zoomed up behind me with a hand-pushed dinner cart. I told him I had the Marsala, but neither he nor my ‘date’ laughed. I thought it was a fairly decent joke, but I seemed to be in the minority on that one. The waiter gave us both our meals and made himself scarce, declaring that he would be back in a moment, in case there was something else we needed.
The Blood Detail (Vigil) Page 5