by Lee Killough
She kept walking. “We’ll get along. You know how important it is to catch this rogue, and how dangerous she is. You’ll just be in the way.”
“Deal with it.”
Allison started. Kerr’s voice carried cold steel...and when she spun around, she discovered his jaw suddenly had edges she never noticed before.
Outside, Julie yelped, and Allison looked back to see that beyond the gallery balustrade, the bay and Lacabra had faded into a curtain of rain.
Julie picked up her funeral book, note cards, and envelopes and carried them inside to the dining room table. “I hope you two brought umbrellas to work today.”
Kerr moved into the hall and around to the library. Rain drummed against its windows. His voice cut through the noise. “Yes, I do know how dangerous Sunny is. Also what all of you are capable of. But I’m your partner! I’ve worked as long and hard on this case as you have, and I’m damned if I’m going to let you push me aside at the end like some kid packed off to bed while the grownups stay out to play!”
Kerr had guts. Give him that. This morning, though obviously terrified, he had not given in to panic. He fought back...and would have gone down still fighting, she suspected. Now he blazed away at her in spite of all he knew about them...and the possibility they might kill him for his knowledge.
He also had a point.
“All right. You’re coming along.” Calling the office located the closest member of the major case squad, Andy Trembecka, five blocks away interviewing one of Hilst’s sisters. “Finish the interview later,” she told him. “I need you at the crime scene ASAP so Kerr and I can follow up a lead that will take both of us to handle.”
11.
Allison took the passenger seat so she could use the phone. With their dash and grill lights flashing, Zane pulled a U turn and shot up Laguna Drive...cars ahead of him a red blur of tail lights, headlights visible in the rearview mirror and oncoming lanes a glare reflecting off the pavement.
He crossed his fingers that he was right about the Russian freighter...and that they would find Deirdre still alive. And Kakashvili at the Anchorage, unaware he had stowaways. Could Sunny board without being seen? The Basin’s fence included the deep water piers, controlling access by land, with a security camera watching the pier. Nothing stopped an approach by water, though, and someone with strength and agility could climb the pilings. In dark clothing, even with the Basin lighting, she might not be noticed on the accommodation ladder. Or not be seen at all if she climbed up the far side of the hull. He had never looked the freighter over with the idea of trying to scale it, but maybe Sunny could find holds to do so.
Under him, he felt the tires lose traction and start hydroplaning.
Allison tightened her seat belt with her free hand. “Drew promises they’ll wait for us before entering the ship. You’re sure you know it?”
Zane eased off the gas until he felt the tires grab, then accelerated once more, leaning on his horn when a motorist refused to yield the lane to the dash strobe. The siren could clear their path...but would also attract the attention of other officers. Thank goodness they were a small city and the traffic running light. “Kakashvili gave me a tour. What did you see up there earlier?”
Hearing about the security tape raised grim images in Zane’s head. He imagined Sunny forcing Surrette to strip, telling him: “Swim for your life.” Swimming in the sea at night was insane, but with the memory of Allison’s Shift vivid in his head, Zane knew that in Surrette’s place, he would have gone right over the side. Then after jumping into the black water and swimming desperately against the tide toward the shore lights, which must have seemed a million miles away, to have teeth sink into his leg and pull him under... His gut knotted.
Allison hung on to her seat as they hydroplaned a little again taking the curve onto West Bayside and punched in another phone number. Garroway, it quickly became apparent from her end of the conversation.
In the rearview mirror he spotted a motorcycle riding the lane line. Where was a traffic cop when you needed one?
“I wondered how long that would take.” Allison put her hand over the phone. “Someone at the Sentinel came across a photo of Deirdre at the funeral where she wasn’t veiled–as I guess she was in the one they had in the paper, which explains why no one recognized her as one of us– and observed the similarity between her and our Blondie composite. I guess they didn’t catch Sunny in any shots.”
Zane could imagine Hilst shoving himself and Deirdre into the foreground and keeping the troublesome daughter out of sight.
They passed the ferry landing. It looked like deja vu, a group of officers--wearing slickers today–a crane floating off the landing, and a tow truck on the dock.
“Golden’s car?” Zane asked.
Allison nodded. “I forgot to tell you.” She listened to the phone. “Deirdre Hilst isn’t a suspect any longer. There’s a new one.” Zane noticed that although she gave Garroway details about Sunny, she never mentioned the freighter, just repeated the same story she told Trembecka about the two of them checking out a lead. “With any luck I’ll have some good news for you in time for the press briefing.”
“Sticking your neck out a little aren’t you?” he asked after she disconnected.
She sent him a thin smile. “Our necks...partner. But I have to give him hope. Speaking of necks...what did you do to yours?”
He grimaced. “Not me...Rikki.”
Allison eyed him. “Those marks weren’t there earlier. How--” Her voice sharpened. “Where have you see her since?”
“She sneaked in over the back fence at the Hilst house.” He shook his head. “Making a welfare check on me. Before I could throw her out she also attempted to protect your family’s welfare by recruiting me to join the pack.”
“Recruiting you...” She broke off, sighing. It had a long suffering sound.
Thinking of hunting dreams, deer chasing, and Rikki and the cheetahs, it occurred to Zane that a werewolf child must be a handful. No wonder they packed teenagers off to boot camp.
The traffic light at West Bayside and Crockett went amber. The first entrance into the Basin. Zane slid into the turn lane, and as the oncoming traffic halted, gunned across its lanes for the parking lot entrance. Allison swore under her breath.
What was her problem? He had been well ahead of the single vehicle coming out of Crockett.
Then he noticed she had her head turned, peering south, and he followed her line of sight in time to see the tail light of a motorcycle vanish into the rain. It must have run the light. Reckless driving but no reason for profanity that he could see.
Zane drove on south through the parking lot and past the offices. A row of cars parked at the fence by the deep water piers. The gate there had been rolled open enough to let a person slip through. Beyond, the freighter loomed through the rain...the Cyrillic lettering on her bow streaked with rust, the masts of her deck cranes rising almost as high as the five-deck superstructure aft. Zane’s pulse picked up. Now they would see how good his hunches were.
When he parked beside the other vehicles, tall figures climbed out of them and converged on Allison. Even rain-soaked, pale hair plastered around their faces, they remained regally Elvish, but also, eerily, washed clean of pseudo humanity. The phrases “terrible beauty” and “fearful symmetry” echoed in Zane’s head...Elf and wolf both visible in them, perfectly fused. Elegant predators surrounded him, eyes gleaming...a pack eager for the hunt.
Among them, Tom Sweet’s eyes bored into him, no longer just dismissive as in the past, but dark with contempt. “You’re serious about bringing him along? He’s one more problem we don’t need.”
Zane’s pulse ratcheted up another notch. He dug his fingers into the flashlight from the car’s glovebox. As if either its heft or the gun on his belt would provide any defense.
Makepeace said mildly, “I don’t believe that’s your decision to make, Tom.”
He breathed easier when Allison copied Makepeace’s to
ne. “I know we can sniff Sunny out if she’s in there...but after Gary’s ambush...” Her glance flicked over Sweet like a whip. “...I for one am not prepared to go charging through some door without knowing the geography on the other side.”
For the second time that day Zane saw one of the family look chagrined. Then Sweet’s expression turned angry. Because a human had witnessed his rebuke? Tough.
“I’m pretty sure she’s in there,” Makepeace said. “After you called I had the day guard run the tape of this area from last night. At oh-five-forty something moved by the pilings near the stern. I didn’t spot any movement after that, but there was a dark shape on the steps up the side of the ship a couple of sweeps later.”
She had watched the camera and moved only when it pointed away from her. That made sense to Zane.
“The Russian might be aboard, too.”
“Kakashvili’s Georgian, not Russian,” Zane said.
“Whatever,” Makepeace said. “Fayly didn’t see him leave the ship this morning and he hasn’t come into the Anchorage yet.”
Zane’s gut knotted.
Allison grunted. “Terrific. All we need is the State Department and Russian government breathing down our necks, too, because a foreign national’s been killed. Everyone have flashlights? We can’t risk turning on lights, so the interior passages and compartments are bound to be dark, and something like the engine room will be a black hole. Let’s go.”
She led the way in a dash from the gate out to the pier and the freighter’s accommodation ladder. Assuming Sunny had not see them already, the rain pounding the hull drowned out any sound they made mounting the steps. Everyone still took care to hug the hull side of the treads, making themselves less noticeable to anyone looking down from the ship. On the deck around the superstructure, however, the roof formed by the outside portion of the deck above hid them from view. It also gave shelter from the rain. They all pushed sodden hair back from their faces and made a tight huddle by the nearest entrance into the superstructure.
“What’s the layout inside?” Allison whispered.
Zane wiped his hands on a still-dry portion of his shirt under his coat and pulled out his notebook. Whispering as he wrote, he listed what he remembered being on each level, from the bridge down to the engine room, and sketched a rough plan showing the location of inside stairways.
Allison studied the sketch for a minute, then moved to the door. When she sniffed at the bar latching it, her face set in grim satisfaction.
Smelling Sunny. The others clearly thought so, too. Zane felt a surge of current around him...matching his own icy hot rush of adrenaline.
Allison lifted the bar, swung the door open, and stepped inside, where she crouched, breathing deeply. Zane expected her to point the direction Sunny had gone. Instead, Allison moved a short way down a passage, returned, and disappeared from sight off to the side of the doorway.
Presently she rejoined the huddle, frowning. “There are several trails. She may have explored the ship before picking where to hide out. We’ll have to check them all. Rick, Evan, Tom...take the one leading down the stairs inside the door. Mike, Gina, Drew... follow the one in the passage. Kerr, and I will take the one going up.”
Makepeace frowned. “You need more backup than Kerr. Better let me team with you.”
“Not necessary. We’re about to become a threesome. As long as she insists on hanging around, she might as well be useful.” Allison moved to the rail, and leaning over it, beckoned to someone below.
Zane’s suspicions who “she” might be solidified as a motorcycle helmet came into sight up the accommodation ladder. That explained Allison’s profanity at the intersection. She recognized the motorcycle.
Sure enough, Rikki’s head emerged from beneath the helmet. If she felt sheepish about at being caught following, it never showed. She wiggled her eyebrows at Zane.
He fingered the bite on his neck.
Allison came back to the huddle. “Each group stick together and cover each other. I refuse to lose another of you. Remember, Sunny not only has Gary’s radio but his gun.”
“Gary? What’s going on?” Rikki asked.
Allison cut her off with a hiss. “No radios. Communicate by phone. So when you locate her, two of the group keep her under surveillance while the third finds a location where you won’t be overheard and calls me.”
12.
What a difference from his guided tour of the freighter. Then they had lights, and Kakashvili’s wry laughter punctuated their effort to converse by passing back and forth the pocket edition Russian-English dictionary Zane brought along. Today the only illumination came from his flashlight and through the windows...which the rain turned to twilight, leaving interior passages black holes. And he moved through the darkness without conversation, or a human escort. Thankfully neither Allison nor Rikki considered it absurd that he drew his gun. They had fangs and claws ready. A silver wolf preceded him up the stairway, silent as a ghost, while Rikki made a smoky shadow behind. Thankfully, too, that gut-deep fear had diminished, though his skin crawled and he sweated in the heat coming from them. What happened to their clothes when they Shifted? He had so many questions...if ever given the opportunity to ask them.
Another question concerned him more just now. “I’m worried about Kakashvili. I’d like to check his quarters.”
“Sunny first.” Allison sniffed the deck and padded away into the blackness of the passage.
Zane followed, trying to move as silently as she did. He pointed the flashlight at the deck just ahead of his feet, holding his fingers over the lens to block all but a narrow slit of beam. In the silence, the hammer of his heart sounded deafening in his ears, and every creak and groan of the ship brought a new jolt of adrenaline.
Shortly, his beam picked up the pale wolf form crouched with one ear pressed against a door. She glanced up at him and sketched a question mark in the air with a paw, rolling her eyes at the door.
He bent down to her other ear. “Recreation room.”
She reached for the knob.
Zane braced, and Rikki couched behind Allison, ears flattened.
Then Allison froze. Both her head and Rikki’s snapped around. Hearing what?
Allison padded away...but not far. She halted at a door on the other side of the passage. Zane followed, running on his toes. Nearing her, he slowed and held his breath, straining to hear whatever has caught her attention. There. From beyond the door came a muffled whimper.
A second voice full of fury and contempt cut across the sound. “You just don’t learn, do you, you stupid cow.” It had to be Sunny, especially with that accent.
Allison backed away from the door toward Zane...rising on her hind legs. She reached him human-shaped once more and leaned close to his ear. “What’s in there?”
A sensation of numbness distracted him...until he realized that he had not lost feeling in his skin; it had just returned to normal. Over his shoulder he saw that Rikki, too, had resumed human form. Galley, he mouthed.
Allison backed him down the passage away from the door, but still whispered. “How many exits?”
He closed his eyes and visualized the area. “Three. That one, a door connecting to the messroom...and I’m pretty sure I remember a door onto an outside deck. The messroom entrance is down there.” He flashed his light at the next door along the passage.
“Layout inside?”
Now he had to think harder. “Storerooms, cooler, and freezer to the left...stainless steel island down the center for food preparation...the stove and oven et cetera on the right, then messroom door, more counter. Sinks and door onto the outside deck at the far end.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll go call the others. You watch these two exits.” She slipped down the corridor and into the recreation room.
The whimpering rose into a shriek. A shriek with a hoarse edge, Zane noticed...as if Deirdre--it must be Deirdre--had screamed so much she was losing her voice. What had Sunny been doing to her?
Briefly, Zane explained.
Rikki stiffened. “Her own mother? I have to see this bitch.” She headed down the passage.
With his hands full of gun and flashlight, he had no way to grab for her. She moved fast enough that Zane saw he would have missed anyway. But now what? Calling after her risked being heard by Sunny. Following would leave the galley door unguarded. Swearing silently, he pointed his flashlight beam at the deck near Rikki’s feet and watched her disappear through the messroom door.
Well, he could be ready in case Sunny detected Rikki and all hell broke loose. He slid down to the galley door and pressed his ear against it.
The despair in the oddly muffled sobs--his and Kakashvili’s voices had echoed in the galley, he remembered--wrenched at him. Get back here, Allison, so we can end this. Gradually he realized Deirdre forced out words between the sobs. He thought he heard something about rape.
Cut short by the lash of Sunny’s voice. “What self-respecting werewolf male could want a jellyfish like you that much? Admit it...you threw yourself at him in one of your bitch-in-heat moods, begging to have a real man instead of that insufferable prick you married.”
Deirdre’s voice steadied. “You--you can’t talk about your father--” But broke in a shriek.
Simultaneously Sunny snarled, “He’s not my dad! That’s why we’re talking about the man who is. I want to know about him, Mum dear...without the rape crap. Tell me...now!”
Deirdre screamed again, but with a choking component to the sound. “No, please stop. Please.” She resumed sobbing. “It was rape. He made me want him. He was Evil. He knew about the dreams.” The sobs turned into breathless babble. “That’s how I knew Satan sent him...but not until after he’d... He wanted me to come away with him. I had to escape. I couldn’t let him take me.” She broke off in another scream, only this one rose into the shriek of someone in agonizing pain.
Zane set down his flashlight, eyeing the doorknob. This had gone on long enough!