by Aimée Thurlo
“Good hunting, then,” Dr. Wayne added, and reached for the phone.
Diane and Lee didn’t speak again until they were on the sidewalk outside, walking toward his unit. “Suppose those men with Victor last night are really federal marshals? They acted more like military than law enforcement.”
“A lot of law enforcement people are ex-military, but I was thinking the same thing. If it wasn’t for jurisdictional issues, I’d have concluded that Victor Wayne is more CIA than Justice Department—or working with the CDC. Or maybe he’s attached to another intelligence operation we don’t know about—yet.”
“Whatever he is, he isn’t just a forensics expert. Let’s continue to be very careful about what we say, and never volunteer any information,” Lee advised.
Diane waited at the passenger door of Lee’s state police car while he slid across the seat and undid the lock.
The dusty oranges and reds of a beautiful New Mexico sunset announced the upcoming activity of bats, owls, and, unfortunately, a vampire or two. Not that vampires could really fly—except for the vampire bats from Mexico and farther south—but night walkers could easily leap three or four times their height.
Lee and Diane didn’t have any idea where Tanner would strike next, only that such an attack was extremely likely, and that the vampire intended—if his words were to be believed—to kill only federal employees. Since agents in Albuquerque were already checking his old haunts and contacts in central New Mexico, they’d remained in the Four Corners area to keep watch on potential federal targets. A day-long search had turned up no new leads.
Several heavily armed Navajo police officers, along with four new federal marshals accompanying Dr. Wayne, were now at the research lab. Temporary floodlights had been added, taking away the advantage of darkness for Stewart Tanner, if he decided to return, and night-vision devices had been supplied to several officers out in the field. The residences of the deceased lab employees were also being guarded, along with the surviving guard’s home and hospital room.
Every available law enforcement officer in the county, including some borrowed from adjacent communities, were in four-officer groups, patrolling the community, especially watching government offices that could have been identified via phone books and other resources Tanner might have had available.
Lee and Diane were parked in the outside lot of a Farmington hotel, which contained the most likely targets for Tanner if he was thinking of striking back against images of federal authority. A judiciary conference—really not much more than a four-hour workshop—had been scheduled at this hotel and the county courthouse in Aztec, for months. Though Diane had tried to get it postponed or relocated, she’d been turned down, and conference publicity had been on the front page of the local newspaper. Even the schedule had been given, so Tanner could easily know all he needed. The Farmington police chief, also a woman, had bristled at the idea that she couldn’t provide adequate security, and convinced those putting on the conference to continue as planned.
“We have federal judges attending from five states, and the guest speaker is U.S. District Court Judge Ronald Baca, from Albuquerque,” Diane told Lee. “So, if Tanner has decided to take out another federal employee, he’ll strike here, or at the courthouse session in Aztec.”
“Or while the judges are in transit. If Tanner’s after headlines, he’s going to try and take out a federal judge or two, not just some postal worker,” Lee said, looking closely at any vehicles that entered the parking area. With binoculars and his unique eyesight, he could see into every vehicle and check out the passengers, despite the darkness.
“Cable TV, local radio, and the Daily Tribune sure gave him center stage. Even the Albuquerque papers and network affiliates have reporters roaming the county looking for a story. Once word got out that the suspect was an enigmatic Albuquerque businessman that had mysteriously disappeared months ago, there was no stopping the coverage.”
“Yeah, but tagging him as ‘the vampire chef’ was bush-league journalism. It makes Tanner sound like a bad joke, and people might downplay the danger. Damn whoever mentioned those wooden stakes to a reporter.”
“Think all this vampire talk could make it more difficult for you?” Diane asked.
Lee shrugged. “I just want to get Tanner, then make sure Victor Wayne leaves town. He’s got an agenda, though I doubt he had anything to do with Tanner’s breakout.”
Diane nodded, then glanced down at her watch. “Well, in another ten minutes the conference people will be boarding the bus for the trip to Aztec. The courthouse there is crawling with city and county cops, and the guests all have escorts, even for the short bus ride. We may have picked the wrong target.”
“There’s no higher-ranking fed in the Four Corners, not one that we know about, anyway. And if we don’t know, neither does Tanner,” Lee reminded. “All he’s had access to is the local media.”
“Unless Tanner’s already eluded the roadblocks and is halfway to New Orleans,” Diane said. “Supposed to be a real vampire hangout.”
“Must be the nightlife. I wouldn’t know,” Lee replied.
Diane groaned. “Here comes the bus,” she said, suddenly wide awake.
An hour and a half later, very close to schedule, the same chartered bus left its parking space and pulled up adjacent to the courthouse steps. The conference attendees boarded quickly, then, led by a police car, the bus pulled out. Another vehicle, this one an unmarked SUV containing four heavily armed deputies, followed right behind.
“Let’s stick close to the bus,” Diane suggested, starting the engine. They were in an unmarked unit, one borrowed locally. “Once everyone is safely tucked away for the evening, we’ll check with Dr. Wayne and see how things are going over on the Rez. You know, if Tanner ever finds out that Victor Wayne was overseeing his captivity, that’ll make our mystery doctor the next target. But I doubt Tanner knows that yet. And I just can’t see joining Victor’s already significant security team and leaving these other targets protected only by people who don’t really have a clue how dangerous Tanner is.”
“Tanner has more than eight hours of darkness left, and vampires don’t get sleepy. He could wait until everyone is dead on their feet, then make his move. Most of the best raids are conducted in the very early morning hours,” Lee reminded.
“If nothing’s gone down by three A.M., I’m going to start making calls and getting everyone stirred up again.” Diane looked over at him, smiling.
“Just because you’re good-looking doesn’t mean you can’t be a hard-ass, right?”
“Damn straight,” Diane shot back.
Lee already knew his partner was tough and smart, but thank God she also had a sense of humor.
The bus trip back to Farmington took less than twenty minutes with the accompanying escort making certain no stoplights slowed them down. The route was simple and the well-maintained road allowed for a fast transit.
“Tanner could strike when they start getting off the bus,” Diane said, “though he’d have to force his way past security unless he has a rifle now.”
She parked their vehicle in a slot away from the entrance and they walked up to the rear of the big vehicle before the passengers started to disembark.
Lee watched the roofs and higher floors of surrounding buildings, and she kept an eye on the parked vehicles closest to the entrance, but everyone from the bus made it into the hotel lobby without incident.
“Judge Baca’s room is on the top floor, so the only way Tanner could get past the inside security is by coming down from the roof,” Lee reminded. “He could start at ground level, then climb up in steps, balcony to balcony.”
“That’s still four stories. But how would he know which room is Baca’s?” Diane countered. “That information is being kept from the public.”
“The judge was in his room for a few hours earlier. If he happened to pass in front of his window, someone in the right position could have seen him. And Baca’s photo was in this morning’s paper. Tanner
could identify him from that.”
“Okay, Lee. If you wanted to check out the hotel rooms, where would you position yourself to watch from the outside without being seen?”
“There’s only one other building more than two stories high within visual range—that old brick office building across the street. An upper-story office or the roof would work.”
“If Tanner is planning on striking at the judge later tonight, he might be watching right now.”
“Didn’t the police chief place an officer on that roof? Someone from the local SWAT?”
Diane nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Let me see if I can get a call through to that officer.” She picked up her handheld radio and contacted the local Dispatch. Lee listened as she struggled through the protocols, then finally spoke to the officer on the roof. After a minute, she ended the transmission.
“You probably got the gist of it. The officer is one of the SWAT snipers, and he’s been in position on the roof since six P.M., when the last tenant left the building. He’s got a low-light scope, and he hasn’t seen any suspicious activity around the hotel. Judge Baca is on the top floor, second window from the right.”
“Did FPD officers check out the brick building when the sniper moved in?”
“Yes, according to Dispatch.”
“Let’s go check it out again. Maybe Tanner came in later from the back or sides. He could be watching us right now.” Lee turned and looked up at the office building, an old structure probably dating from the thirties, based upon the design and condition of the bricks. On the parapet of the roof, which was decorated in zia sun symbols, Lee could see the rifle barrel and big lens of the sniper’s scope. The officer was wearing a baseball cap, the bill backward.
Lee and Diane returned to their vehicle, and three minutes later parked in the alley a half block from the rear of the office building.
Lee led the way up the alley, staying to the side so they could see the rear of the building and as high as possible as they approached. “The sniper could be compromised if Tanner came up the fire-escape ladder,” Lee said.
“You think Tanner would use the rifle? He’s supposed to be a skilled hunter and a good shot.”
Lee shrugged, looking up. The only rear windows were on the east end, linked to the fire escape. That would be Tanner’s only way up from the back. “He could have taken a pistol the other night, but didn’t. He’s unpredictable. Let’s go to the roof, checking the building on the way up.”
The back was locked, and so was the front, and the quality of the locks was good enough to make picking them a chore. “Tanner probably has locksmith skills, and even a vampire would have difficulty forcing the doors,” Lee said, finally. “Let’s just warn the sniper to cover his butt.”
Diane nodded.
Lee picked the big brass lock at the rear entrance beside the loading dock within a minute. He’d been a vampire long enough to know the danger of being denied access by a locked door, especially when going indoors could be a matter of life and death. He’d maintained locksmith skills for decades, keeping up with the times, and could even defeat most of the modern electronic security devices.
Working their way around the rooms in the basement, they confirmed that anyone inside, like them, would have to pick room locks to get beyond the halls and stairwells. The only unlocked facility was a small bathroom. The single elevator was blocked by a metal security door and was unaccessible.
They walked quietly up the stairs to the second floor, signaling each other rather than speaking, and working together, covering one another with their weapons as they moved. The rooms on the back side of the building were all locked, so they moved next to the hallway that gave access to the four offices that faced toward the street and the hotel beyond.
The hall was dim, illuminated only by the exit light just before the stairwell door, and Diane used a small flashlight, directing it away from doorways so it couldn’t be seen from inside a room through a glass panel or at the bottom.
The first office, leased by a bookkeeper, had two locks and no glass panel in the door. The second, just ahead, belonged to a lawyer, according to the raised brass lettering on the wall that read “Henry Blackburn, Attorney at Law.”
Diane covered Lee as he stood sideways and reached down to check the knob. The door moved. It was unlocked and open.
Lee listened for any sound within. He could hear a ticking clock and a bubbling sound—probably an aquarium or one of those desk fountains. He swung the door open, pistol ready, and came in low and quick. He saw two desks, a broken chair with a missing leg, filing cabinets, and a big credenza with an aquarium and light, tasteful Southwest art on the wall. There was also a man, faceup on the pale gold carpet. He had the missing wooden chair leg extending from his chest. The blood had stopped pumping, but it hadn’t caked up much yet, and the bright color suggested he hadn’t been dead for very long.
The blinds were open, and through a large window Lee could see the hotel across the street. Judge Baca was standing at his room window, a phone in his hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw Diane moving into the room. “Shit. He was here, all right, not long ago. Where is he now?”
The phone on the desk rang, and Lee suddenly had a good idea. He watched across the street as Diane grabbed the phone. “Hello?” She turned to Lee. “It’s Tanner,” she mouthed.
Lee saw a man in Baca’s room across the way, waving. “He’s in the judge’s room. Get someone there, now!”
Diane dropped the phone and reached for her radio as Lee ran for the door. He heard a gunshot from somewhere above, and realized the SWAT officer must have finally realized what was going on. Maybe they’d be lucky and Tanner had stayed in view a second too long.
Lee went down two flights of stairs in two steps, then sprinted for the front entrance. He hit it full force and it sprung open, jarring his shoulder heavily. Sprinting across the road, Lee heard brakes squeal, but knew the car would miss. By the time it reached that spot, Lee would already be on the sidewalk.
Where to go? Lee wondered. Tanner wasn’t going to stick around the hotel much longer—if he was still on his feet. Lee knew that a jump off the roof was unlikely. The fall would break the vampire’s legs—for a while at least, and render him immobile.
Officers were moving now, some coming out to watch the exterior. Diane must have already made contact. He turned to look back up at the sniper. “I missed him,” the officer yelled, looking down from beside his rifle. “I’ll watch the front and sides.”
That left the rear. Lee circled the rectangular structure to the left, thinking the interior would be swarming with officers, and Diane would be watching the street. Dodging past the rows of vehicles in the parking lot, Lee sprinted past a side door, noting the backs of two officers. Good, they were watching in the right direction—inside.
Lee reached the back corner of the structure and looked up. A rope dangled from an upper-floor window, and was still swaying back and forth. “He ran into the park,” he heard a woman shouting.
Lee saw a woman in a blue FPD uniform holding a handheld radio and looking toward a small park comprised of several pine trees, shrubs, and a bench or two. She had her weapon out, and was advancing slowly.
Beyond the park, down a steep hill, was a street. Lee heard screeching tires, a curse and a thud, then the sound of a slamming door. He ran toward the woman officer, who was intent on looking ahead, but less motivated to advance any faster. Before he got close, Lee shouted, “I’m a police officer!”
She turned to look as he came up, but didn’t aim her weapon at him because of his warning.
“It was Tanner. I saw him just as he dropped off the rope at the bottom. I think he’s already made it to the street,” she said, pointing ahead.
“Cover me.” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead jumping down the twenty feet to the pavement in two strides. A speeding pickup was just turning the corner at the next intersection. It disappeared, but in the street a ma
n in denim coveralls was on his hands and knees, struggling to stand up.
The old guy, in his sixties at least, judging from his white hair, was clenching his fists, and his glasses were halfway down his nose. “Get that punk bastard, son. He stole my pickup. Wish I’d have run him over.”
Diane broke in with a radio call as Lee was helping the man to his feet. “Tanner just drove by real casually in a red pickup—like he was sightseeing. Meet you at the car,” she said.
On the move quickly, Lee was already there, waiting but taking calls from various officers in the area by the time Diane ran up, out of breath. “You’re too damned fast for me, Lee,” she managed, opening the door and jumping in. “Judge Baca is dead, according to the officers now in his room. Pretty gruesome, apparently. All I was able to get so far is that the judge had been impaled with a wooden chair leg.”
“How original,” Lee responded as Diane pulled the unit out into traffic. “Where are we going?”
“Tanner was going west. I doubt he’ll be checking into the hotel again anytime soon, so I thought he might have another go at the targets he was unable to finish off last night.”
“Dr. Victor Wayne and his entourage?”
“Or us.” Diane checked the rearview mirror. “Keep an eye on our tail. And heaven help us if he decides to start using a firearm. With his physical abilities, he’d be really hard to stop, working at long range as a sniper. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s all a crazy game to him now,” Diane added.
“It’s payback time. So far he’s only gone after the people who tried to harm him. Or, in the case of Judge Baca—someone he can identify as a federal honcho.”
“New Mexico has a lot of federal employees,” she warned. “But what about the lawyer?”
“Wrong place, wrong time. And it also establishes that Tanner will kill anyone who gets in his way.”
Ten minutes went by before they received a call from a team of county deputies on patrol. The vehicle Tanner had stolen from the old man had been found across the street from the police station. Diane turned to Lee. “Everyone there is now looking over their shoulders. Suppose Tanner plans on killing some police officers?”