The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 1 thru 5 (Smoke Special Edition)

by Craig Halloran

  “I think he’ll show up.”

  “Where? Here?” She shook her head. “He’s hiding somewhere.”

  “He’s cocky. He’ll be out and about.”

  “We can’t stake all of those places out, and they’ll be looking for us.”

  “True, but that’s why I have Fat Sam and Guppy on it.”

  She rolled her eyes and got up. Damn, I’m still in my gym clothes. “I’m going. If you can control yourself, stay put and I’ll swing by and get you tomorrow.” She looked around. “Say, do you have a phone?”

  “I have a burner.”

  “Let me have it.” She pulled her phone from her bag. “Here’s mine.”

  They each put themselves in the other’s phone as a contact.

  “Wow, you just gave me your number and I didn’t even ask for it. I’m flattered.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it from him. There was a text from her mother.

  It read:Allison’s gone.

  ***

  Racing down the road, Sidney pounded on the steering wheel. “I don’t need this right now.” Her phone rang. “What’s going on, Mom?”

  “It’s been seven hours, Sidney, and we can’t find her anywhere.” Her mother sobbed. “I’m worried.”

  “This isn’t the first time it’s happened,” Sid said, accelerating up the highway ramp. “Aren’t you used to it?”

  “Never, but Megan,” Sally’s voiced cracked, “it’s not fair to Megan. It breaks my heart and makes me so angry. And sad!”

  “Did she steal a car? How did she get out of there? You’re five miles from anywhere.”

  There was a silence.

  “Mom, you are five miles from anywhere, aren’t you? The camp, not the house?”

  “We thought the house would be a nice change.”

  Sidney squeezed her phone. Her parents used to be tough as nails, but over the past few years they’d gotten softer. Almost feeble in many ways.

  God, don’t let that happen to me.

  “Your father and Joe are out looking for her now. I’m sure they’ll find her.”

  No, they won’t.

  “Mom,” Sidney softened her voice, “Allison’s going to have to figure this out on her own. You’ve given her all the love you can. There’s nothing more you can do.”

  Sobbing, her mother said, “You’re a good girl, Sid. You know how to say the right things.”

  “I’m just repeating what you told me.”

  “Oh!” her mother said, perking up. “I hear the garage door opening.” There was a pause. Suddenly, she screamed in the phone. “It’s Allison! He’s got Allison! She looks okay!” Click!

  Sidney looked at her phone and said to it, “Are you frickin’ kidding me?”

  ***

  Buzz … Buzz … Buzz …

  Sidney stretched her arms through her bedsheets, fingers searching for her phone. Bright morning light peeked in through the apartment’s blinds. She found her phone. 8:00 a.m. “Ugh. Already.” She’d been in bed by 2:00 am, but it felt like five minutes ago. Screw it. She set the snooze and sank back into her bed.

  Buzz … Buzz … Buzz …

  She forced her heavy eyelids open. Her phone was still clutched in her hand. 8:08 a.m. A crack of sunlight gleamed in her eye. Sidney’s bare feet crossed the cold floor to the window, where she pulled the curtains closed. That’s better. She set the snooze again and crawled back under the sheets. A few things raced through her mind. Smoke. Allison. Megan. Smoke. She drifted off to sleep. She dreamed. Smoke. Fire. Satin sheets.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  She lurched up in bed. A thin film of sweat coated her body. Her phone read 8:13 a.m. That’s odd, she thought, panting a little. It shouldn’t have gone off yet. Sounded like a knock. Yawning, she stretched her arms out wide. Normally she was on the move by six, except on the weekends. I’m not even sure what day it is.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Her eyes widened. She grabbed her Glock and headed toward the front door in nothing but a black T-shirt and panties.

  She’d been in this apartment a year, but only one time had this door been knocked on—by a couple of college guys who lived a few doors over. It had been an invitation to one of their parties. They never looked her way again after she shoved her badge and an earful of her legal authority in their faces.

  Sidney checked the peephole. Smoke stood on the other side, holding a tray of coffee and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

  How does he know where I live!

  CHAPTER 30

  “What are you doing here?” she said through the door.

  “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d bring some coffee over.”

  A playful thought entered Sidney’s mind. She swung the door open.

  Smoke’s jaw hung in the air.

  She plucked a cup of coffee out of the carrier, said “Thank you,” and shut the door in his face. From the other side of the door she heard him say, “I thought I’d come over and we could get a jump on things.”

  “Really, and what kind of things did you want to jump on?” She set down the coffee, headed to her room, grabbed a pair of jeans and a maroon sweater, and slipped them on. She could hear his reply through the door.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You’re a man, aren’t you?”

  There was a pause. “Well, it’s kinda like that, but not the way you think. I have a lead.”

  She buttoned her jeans. “Hold on.” Inside the bathroom she brushed her teeth and clipped her hair up. No. Back in the bedroom, she found an FBI-issued ball cap, put it on, and laced up some rubber-soled boots.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Smoke said.

  And break my last seven months of chastity?

  She checked herself in the mirror again and strapped her weapon on. She saw her bed reflecting in the mirror.

  Just let him in. Long enough is long enough.

  “Hello?” she heard him say. “The biscuits are getting cold.”

  The biscuits are getting cold? The fires inside her dimmed. Cheap thrill killed. She pulled her hat down, grabbed her coffee and bag, and opened the door.

  “Don’t ever do this again,” she said, locking the door behind her, “and you can explain how you found me later.” Her stomach growled. “Where’s my biscuit?”

  “Oh,” he said, rubbing his neck. “I was joking about that. I ate on the way over.”

  She glared at him.

  “Nice hat,” he said, eyeing the three big letters. “Not exactly discreet considering where we’re headed.”

  “And where might that be?” She scanned the parking lot. “And how did you get here?”

  “Automobile.” He pointed at the parking lot as they made their way down the stairs. “I can drive too, you know.”

  “Well, we won’t be finding out about that anytime soon.” There was an old VW bus, red with a white top, she hadn’t seen before. “Please tell me you aren’t driving that.”

  He looked at the bus. “That? No.” He pointed to the space on the other side, where there was a primer-gray Camaro. A mid-eighties IROC version. “Those are my wheels.”

  “We’ll take the Interceptor.”

  “It’s too slow.”

  “I didn’t think we were in a hurry.” She headed for her car. The windows were frosted over. The trunk groaned when she opened it up and grabbed the ice scraper. She handed it to Smoke. “Get to work.”

  “My car’s warm and ready. The bucket seats are cozy.”

  “Please stop.” She grabbed her jacket from the back seat and then started up her car. “Hurry up, and then get in.”

  Scraping, Smoke said, “I have all my gear in my car.”

  “And I have all my gear in mine.” She closed the door and took a sip of coffee. Flipped on the defroster. The fan rattled. Her neck tightened. Smoke’s suggestion seemed more promising.

  Nah, let him scrape.

  Finishing up, Smoke rapped
on the window with his knuckle and said with icy breath, “Why don’t we take both cars?”

  Her nostrils flared. Screw it. She shut off the engine, got out of the car, and locked it.

  Smoke tossed the scraper in the trunk and started to close it.

  “Hold on.” She took out a black duffle bag that clattered with metal and swung it over her shoulder. “All right.”

  Smoke clamped the lid down, headed for his car, and opened up the passenger side door.

  “This isn’t a date.” She placed her bag in the back seat.

  “No, it’s common courtesy.”

  Sidney took her seat and Smoke closed the door. Seconds later, they were roaring down the road. The Camaro’s acceleration pinned her to her seat. It had a roll cage inside, and the dash rattled and squeaked. Smoke filled up his racing seat. His head almost touched the ceiling.

  “I appreciate you letting me drive,” Smoke said over the hum of the engine. “That’s one thing I hate about prison. I don’t get to drive anywhere.”

  “Don’t get used to it. We have a stop to make.”

  “Stop, why?”

  “Take the next left, a right and then another left.”

  “Sure, where are we going?”

  “Just do it.” Turn about is fair play.

  She took the lid off her coffee and took another drink. Smoke was being extremely cooperative for a man who had problems with authority. He was up to something. His behavior was way outside of his profile. Smoke made the second left.

  “Turn here.”

  They entered a facility full of orange-doored storage garages. He pulled his car to a stop at the key pad. “Uh …”

  “Seven six seven five.”

  He punched it in, and the gate glided open.

  “Straight back and to the right.”

  Smoke cruised toward the back, where cars, boats, and RVs were parked in rows. He pulled into an open slot.

  She picked up her belongings, got out, and said, “Wait here.”

  “Can I at least get out?”

  “Sure.”

  A few minutes later she pulled out in a Dodge Challenger Hellcat: phantom black, with flame-orange stripes on the hood and pinstripes on the side. She pushed on the gas, unleashing a throaty exhaust note.

  Smoke took off his glasses. Brows up and eyes wide, he strolled over.

  “I think I’m in love.”

  “With me, or the car?”

  “Heh … I’ll get my stuff.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Cruising down the highway, Smoke ran his fingers over the dash. “Seven hundred and seven horsepower, the most powerful production engine.” He bobbed his chin. “Now that’s something. I read about these in prison. Pretty new. How’d you come by it?”

  “Police auction,” she said, fingers hugging the heated steering wheel. I’ve missed my baby. “I outbid a lot of interested people. Pissed off many men.”

  “I bet.”

  “It came down to me and Ted.” She plucked her shades from the console and put them on. “At the end of the day it was my Hellcat, not his.”

  Glasses off, Smoke inspected everything. “He missed out. So why the attraction?”

  “Love cars. Love the name. My dad actually had some comics with a superhero named Hellcat I kind of liked.” Too much information, Sid.

  Smoke smiled. “Ah, very interesting.”

  “Not to mention the rear-wheel drive and all the awesome power. It’s sort of a given.”

  “So, was this a drug runner’s car?”

  “Snagged north of the Arizona border. The auction was in Texas. I drove him all the way home.”

  “I thought cars were hers?”

  “Does he look like a her?”

  He shook his head no.

  “I’m heading south, you know,” she said. “Unless there’s another direction I should be going.”

  “Right, right. No, south is good.” He poked at the GPS. “Do you mind?”

  “It would help to know where I’m going.” She checked the speedometer. It read ninety. The feel of the road, the sound of the engine, she lost herself in it. She eased off the gas and set the cruise control at seventy. “So tell me about this lead. How did you get it?”

  “Fat Sam—”

  “And Guppy. Sheesh, I should have known.” She switched lanes. “I’m wondering if they’re even real.”

  “Oh, they’re real, but it’s important that I keep my resources secret.” He finished tapping on the GPS. “There we go.”

  “What is that?”

  “Mitchell-Bates Hospital. Closed as of 2004. One hundred and seventy-five beds. Three floors and a basement.” He took a drink of coffee. “Two miles from the highway. Once public and now private property.”

  “And who owns it now?”

  “A real estate developer, which is a subsidiary of …”

  “The Drake Corporation.”

  “Actually, Drake Incorporated. We checked at the Secretary of State’s office, which wasn’t easy seeing how three states are in the immediate area.”

  “So there are lots of companies, different names and doing business as?”

  “Yep.” He nodded. “And no real names.”

  “And I guess they all pay their taxes.”

  “Do you want me to find out?”

  “No.” Sidney had done her share of white-collar investigations. Digging through layer after layer of false names and companies was interesting. The top lawyers and accountants dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t’ on the good ones. In the most thorough cases it took an act of God to bring them down, and that was only after years were exhausted in the court systems that the enemy knew too well. This is a lot deeper than just one man.

  “Shadow companies like the Drake probably benefit from a few congressmen and senators in their pockets.”

  She thought of Congressman Wilhelm and the last words he had said: “Watch your step.”

  Things were quiet the next ninety minutes of driving, and then she took the Grandview Road exit. A pair of steel-crafted yellow swing gates barred the road that led into the parking lot.

  “Looks like we walk from here.”

  “I’m not leaving my car out here,” Sidney said. She got out and made her way to the gates. A heavy padlock down inside a steel mesh cage held the gates together. She scanned the area. The Mitchell-Bates Hospital sign was in disrepair. No cameras were mounted on the light poles leading to the entrance. Only the sound of highway traffic caught her ears. She drew her weapon, shot the lock off, swung the gate open, and got back in the car.

  “Subtle,” Smoke said.

  She put the car in drive. “Let’s get this over with.”

  CHAPTER 32

  “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t in here,” she said, driving forward. “Perhaps Fat Sam and Guppy are wrong.”

  “They aren’t wrong.”

  “Maybe there’s another way out.”

  Smoke shrugged.

  As they rolled up the road between the tall trees, the rising sun dimmed behind misty clouds. The brisk wind stirred the leaves on the parking lot as they approached. The small brick hospital stood in a woodland of falling leaves and pines. Not a car was in the lot. Patches of tall grass popped up through the blacktop.

  “He’s in here, huh?” she said to Smoke. “It looks pretty abandoned to me.”

  “It’s a lead,” he said. “Besides, looks can be deceiving. There’s another side to the building, you know.” He shook his head. “Man, this is the worst recon ever.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, reaching into the back seat for her gym bag. She took out another shoulder holster. A Kevlar vest. Another Glock was ready, along with two fifteen-round magazines. She slipped off her jacket, put on the Kevlar vest, and put the jacket over it. “I don’t think there’s that much to recon.”

  “Then why are you gearing up like that?”

  “Because I don’t normally get to.” She pulled the car under the canopy that
led to the emergency room entrance, opened her door, and dropped a foot outside. “Are you coming or not?”

  “Pop the trunk.”

  She followed him to the back of the car, where he opened his oversized gym bag. He put on his own Kevlar vest and strapped a pair of 9mm Beretta pistols to his hips. He finished by stuffing a single-action army sheriff’s pistol in the back of his pants.

  “A revolver?” she said.

  “It’s sentimental.”

  “All right, cowboy.” As she turned toward the hospital entrance, something caught her eyes. She froze.

  A white-grey wolf stood twenty feet away, teeth bared. Its muscular back was more than waist tall. It was one of the biggest canines she’d ever seen.

  “Uh, Smoke?”

  “Yeah?” he said, turning. “Oh … that’s one big dog.”

  Sidney’s back tightened. Her fingertips tingled. She knew dogs but not wolves. They were wild. Ferocious. She reached for her weapon.

  Before she could even touch it, the wolf had snarled and sprinted away.

  Sidney jumped when Smoke closed the trunk.

  He had a tire iron in his hand. “Let’s go catch that werewolf.”

  “I think it will be a few more hours before any of them come out.” She took the tire iron from his hand and made her way onto the landing. A set of sliding glass doors were closed, and the side entrance steel door was locked. She wedged the tire iron in between the doors and started to pry. The doors cracked open an inch. “A little help,” she grunted.

  Smoke gripped the door’s edge and gave a powerful tug. The doors split apart another foot. Straining, he said, “Think you can fit?”

  “Ha,” she said, squeezing through. Smoke forced himself inside, and the doors sealed shut with the tire iron outside. “Ew,” she said, covering her nose. “It smells like the dead in here.”

  Inside, the lighting was dim other than the natural light from the windows.

  “Do you hear that?” Smoke said, tilting his head. The sound of electricity hummed inside the walls. “Something is going on in here.” He started forward, shuffling by the old waiting room chairs and into the ER. There were several gurneys with rotting curtains hanging around them. “What do you think? Follow the smell?”