by Aimée Thurlo
“The local crime-lab people will be here soon to check it out. They’ve been working overtime, and hoped to be able to catch up on Tanner’s work from last night,” one of the Farmington detectives—Esterbrook—said as he came up. He handed Diane his cell phone. “Ma’am, you wanna take the call? It’s from Dispatch.”
Diane took the receiver, then, after a moment, gave the cell phone back to the detective and turned to Lee. “A patrolman thinks he’s found the motorcycle Tanner took from here. It’s in the parking lot of a flower shop. The officer is interviewing the shop owner now.”
Lee looked at Victor. “You may want to go over the house very carefully. There may be a clue that’ll point to Tanner’s future targets.”
Victor nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”
With a nod, Diane turned and walked toward the gate. Lee followed.
Once they were in the car, Diane spoke again. “Once Victor realizes that the ash on the driveway is oxidized vampire blood, he’ll know that the man who died in Albuquerque was a vampire, and that the terrorists who died over by Fort Wingate were vampires too.”
“Unfortunately, you and I are connected to all three incidents in one way or the other. That’s going to place us on the slides of Dr. Wayne’s biggest microscope,” Lee responded—a touch of fear for himself and her—clawing into him. He wasn’t at all sure how long he could endure what Tanner had gone through without losing his own sanity. And although they couldn’t do much to Diane, they could use her to control him.
“Well, at least you’re only half vampire, which means you’ll be able to mislead him about the sunlight thing. With sunblock on you can stay outside, at least for a while.”
“I still want to avoid Victor as much as possible. The man has really gotten under my skin. I’d have loved to throw him down the stairs, you know. Tanner was a person with a secret before the experiments started. Victor turned him angry … and into a killer.”
“Dr. Wayne’s a bigot, in his own way. People like that are hard to take no matter how noble they try and make their bias sound. Tanner was singled out because he was different, and nobody has the right to experiment on another person like that. Lynette was my friend, but what she and the others did to Tanner was cold and cruel and unconscionable.”
“In my youth it was the Nazis who treated prisoners like lab rats. Then in the fifties, the CIA experimented with mind control and slipped LSD and other drugs into subjects without their knowledge, just to see what would happen. Other countries have done much worse to their own citizens. And now Dr. Wayne has singled out vampires.”
“Obviously only a few people know about it, though. But things have a way of balancing out. Victor will get his payback someday.”
“You’re right. If I were more like him, I’d provide the payback myself.”
“But you’re not, Lee. I’ve seen what you go through killing a skinwalkcr, no matter how evil they’ve become. You know that they were regular people before their affliction made them into animal predators.”
“Thank God we don’t have to deal with that now. Vampires are enough to worry about. Let’s just get to Tanner and his lady before they kill anyone else. Once he’s dead and she’s been locked up, Dr. Wayne and his unfortunate followers will be moving on.”
“You think Tanner will allow himself to be taken alive, after what he’s been subjected to and done in retaliation?”
“No. But maybe we can save Mrs. Walker—if that’ll make any difference to her.”
They arrived at the flower shop within minutes. A police officer was crouched beside the parked motorcycle, taking notes on a clipboard. A young woman in a yellow apron was standing in the shade of the shop’s awning on a concrete step, watching.
Lee felt his face and neck, checking for the presence of sunblock. They’d switched seats and Diane had driven the rest of the distance while he added extra protection for his skin. The latex gloves he’d had on before had caused his hands to sweat, and once he took them off, he’d noticed that he was losing his coverage.
It was still too warm in the year to wear leather gloves without being conspicuous, and he didn’t want that now, with everyone thinking about vampires.
Diane must have had it on her mind. “Gloves, partner?” She called, tossing him a pair of latex gloves. With the motorcycle to examine, they could justify the use without raising eyebrows.
“Thanks.” Lee nodded to the officer, named Benally, according to the tag above his uniform pocket.
“I spoke briefly with the shop owner”—Benally gestured with his lips, Navajo style, toward the woman—“and she said the motorcycle driver pulled up beside a pickup, one with a camper shell. It had been parked there since yesterday. Somebody opened the door, and they drove off together.”
Lee looked over at Diane, who had continued on and was speaking to the woman on the porch. “Did the flower-shop woman notice another woman hanging around the pickup earlier?”
“That Walker woman we’re looking for? No, I asked her that. But the woman doesn’t get a chance to look outside her shop much, being by herself a lot of the time. She only noticed the motorcycle because of the distinctive engine sound.”
“Was the motorcycle driver holding his leg, like he’s been hurt?”
Benally nodded. “How’d you know?”
“The guy on the motorcycle killed two federal marshals just before he got here. It was Stewart Tanner, the guy we’re all trying to stop.”
“Pale Death? That’s what the Dineh are calling him.”
Lee nodded. “I’ve heard that. Anything else?”
Officer Benally pointed to the ground. “Just some gray ash on the side of the bike and there on the ground. Does Tanner smoke?”
“Sometimes,” Lee said, checking the scorched blood on the ground and bike without touching it. “We were hoping for a lot more,” he muttered.
Benally looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t follow you, Officer Hawk.”
“Ignore me, Officer Benally, I was making a bad joke. Just remember that if you happen to meet up with Tanner, don’t try to take him prisoner or listen to any of his bullshit. Take action as quickly as you can. Shoot him several times, and make it in the heart and head. The guy can’t feel any pain, apparently, so you’re going to have to destroy him from the inside out. Never take your eyes off him, either, even if he looks dead.”
“Ah, my cousin warned me about that. He’s the sergeant you spoke to at the Fruitland roadblock the other day. He’s been spreading the word about Tanner to all the Dineh.”
“Good for your cousin. Believe him.”
Diane came back just then, nodded to Benally, then motioned Lee toward their vehicle, tossing him the keys. “You drive. I guess we know where Marci went when she left the dealership. You notice this shop is less than a mile from there.” Diane pointed toward a narrow alley just fifty feet away. “I bet she ran down the alley, all the way. The pickup was here right where she’d left it.”
“Wait for the detectives, officer. They’ll be sending someone,” Diane yelled to Benally. When the patrolman nodded, Diane moved around to the passenger’s side of the vehicle, and Lee climbed in behind the wheel.
“The pickup and camper should be easier to track down, Lee,” Diane said as they got under way, heading toward the center of town.
“Think they’re planning on leaving Farmington? Tanner can stay inside that camper during the daytime, and they may have provisions for days.” Lee pulled out a map of the area, already considering possible escape routes.
“Roadblocks are still up on the major routes, but there are just too many possibilities to cover every dirt track and gas and oil well service road, though. Let me check on the air cover.” Diane checked her cell phone, looked down at the portable charger they had keeping fresh batteries available, then dialed.
“They’ve been good planners so far. What if they only had a short distance to go, like a barn or warehouse somewhere?” Lee pointed out. “We still don�
��t have a complete list of every place Walker owned, do we?”
Diane shook her head. “Not yet, but FPD is supposed to be putting together that information. I’ll give them another call. Meanwhile, let’s check the obvious, circling the neighborhood around the flower shop for a place big enough to hide a pickup with a camper. Most garages will be too small for a high-profile vehicle like that.”
“Maybe a commercial garage. Let’s check them all, and hope that Mrs. Walker doesn’t own property out of the county. That wouldn’t show up in local records. Now here’s where we can use some of your federal juice, and maybe Dr. Wayne’s contacts. The Walkers had to pay taxes on all their holdings. Can you get someone to grab their accountant-bookkeeper-tax man, whoever? They must have had a lawyer or financial advisor.”
“Do you suppose Dr. Wayne will get ethical on me if I ask him to find a hacker to check out the Walkers’ home computer?” Diane asked.
“Ethical, him? Ask if you want, but don’t make it a request that he could use against you someday. Victor’s probably way ahead of us on anything illegal already.”
Diane looked over at him. “You’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t have left him alone in that house. If he manages to discover where Tanner and Mrs. Walker are hiding first …”
“He’s running too low on personnel for a move like that, isn’t he?” Lee shot back. “And he doesn’t have the balls to try it on his own.”
“Yeah. But if he’s really part of some defense agency, more goons are already on the way.”
Diane remained quiet for a while, and Lee didn’t interrupt the silence between them. The importance of giving others time to think was a trait valued by those of his tribe. Instant answers weren’t necessarily a sign of intelligence, only speed. Yet, in today’s world, with speed being the criteria, people who took their time before they answered were considered hicks, slow, stupid, or worse.
“Let’s rely on information the locals can provide,” Diane said at last, “but I’ll ask Victor to check it out anyway. We can give him some time—maybe for his reinforcements to arrive—then pull a Charles and watch his moves. If Marci and Stewart Tanner have a particular hiding place in mind, Dr. Wayne’s people may lead us to it.”
“Might work. And with all the other local law enforcement people blanketing the area, everything we can think of is already covered. There’s one more thing we might consider, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Those camper shells can be lifted off and left in a garage. With Tanner’s strength, he could do it alone, and Marci must know more than the average person about automobiles and trucks. It’s her business.”
“Right. We need to look for a pickup without a camper as well. I’m also going to have the dealer employees verify that no other vehicles are missing from their inventory, and that the Walkers didn’t own any other vehicles that we haven’t heard about yet.”
“I can find out immediately. I have friends in the motor vehicle department,” Lee said. They both brought out their cell phones and began making calls while Lee cruised slowly down a street close by the flower shop. Every Ford pickup of the right color and model with a camper shell would be checked and ruled out, and every potential hiding place logged and checked.
Diane was on the phone longer, but finally ended her calls and turned to Lee. “We’ve got Victor Wayne pegged. He’d already started browsing through the Walker computer. Marci Walker apparently has her taxes done by an accountant, but her late husband liked to be on top of things. A lot of their investment records are on the computer and Victor is wading through them. There are some properties bought and sold, apparently, but he hasn’t found them all yet. There are hundreds of files, and he’s having to look through them all.”
“I’ve got an idea. Any idea where Victor Wayne is staying—his rental—a plush apartment, according to Charles?”
Diane looked at him suspiciously. “I can find out. Why?”
“Just find out.”
Fifteen minutes later they were walking along the sidewalk in front of an exclusive, ten-suite rental apartment complex almost hidden within the shade of dozens of skillfully placed ponderosa pines of all sizes. The back and sides of the complex were secured by a tall, textured block wall, and the grounds were landscaped with more evergreens, thick hedges, and seemingly random plots of perfectly manicured grass.
A high brick and wrought-iron fence along the front of the structure prevented street-side access to the luxury apartments. Guests and visitors gained access through a wide gate in the center and down a flagstone walk. At the gate stood a uniformed guard.
“I wonder if the taxpayers are footing the bill for this palatial retreat? I’m lucky if the Bureau puts me up in a place where the cockroaches are too small to carry away my handgun during the night.”
“You know there’s a pecking order in federal agencies.”
“We already knew Victor was a real pecker. No surprise there.” She smiled, then yawned. “Did I sleep last night?”
“Your eyes were closed from time to time. Does that mean anything?”
“I’ll let you know next shootout. By the way, how do you plan to gain access to Dr. Wayne’s suite? There are high walls, gates, guards, and probably land mines.”
“Well, assuming you’re kidding about the mines, I’ve got a plan.” As they strolled down the sidewalk, Lee nodded toward a covered parking garage across the street. “Those are the vehicles belonging to the tenants, don’t you think?”
“Let’s see. Mercedes, Land Rover, Lincoln, Lexus. Of course these vehicles belong to the guests. What’s your point?”
“Well, I noticed that a gray-haired gentleman and his two sexily dressed female companions just exited the maroon Me-cedes, and instead of crossing the street to the complex the three lovebirds went into that small, solidly built room.” He glanced in that direction.
“The one with a security guard just outside? I get it. He must be a doorman for the entrance to a stairwell.”
Lee nodded. “Exactly. My guess is there’s a tunnel beneath the street that leads from there to the complex. Wouldn’t want the paying guests to get their thousand-dollar suits all dusty or rained on?”
“Sounds about right. So, how do you plan to con our way past the parking garage security?”
“Not us. You. The guy’s probably not my type, but your feminine attributes and charm will do the trick.”
“You’re kidding.”
Lee shook his head. “Face it, you’re a hottie even in a business suit.”
Diane rolled her eyes. “If I do this, you definitely owe me one. Make that two.”
“Whatever I have is yours. Just get us past the guy without having to ID ourselves. We don’t want Victor to discover we’ve been going through his drawers.”
“Rephrase that, will ya?” she said with a groan. “I feel crappy enough having to flirt with a security guard.”
“Okay. Not drawers—closets. But maybe I can make it easier on both of us. I’ll call in the vehicle tag on that Mercedes—it’s a NM plate—and once we have a name …”
“We’ll know whose name to use to get in the door. Cool.”
Five minutes later they climbed up the below-ground stairs onto a covered gazebo-type platform inside the upscale facility. “Did you notice all the celebrity names on the ‘they stayed here’ list back at the desk? So this is where ex-vice presidents reside when they descend upon the Four Corners to give speeches,” Diane whispered, looking around but seeing nothing but tasteful potted plants and flagstone walkways leading in several directions. Polished brass signs indicated apartment numbers for each path.
“My guess is that William Melton has less inspirational motives for staying here. Great idea saying we’re part of the entertainment for his ‘party.’ And that wink you gave the security guard really helped, Diane.”
“What helped even more is keeping our weapons and handcuffs out of sight.”
“Who knows?” Lee whispered, putting
on latex gloves as they walked down the stone walk that led to Victor Wayne’s rented apartment, actually a small cottage. “Mr. Melton might consider handcuffs party favors.”
The lock on Victor’s door was expensive but mechanical, and it took Lee about the same time it took Diane to don her own gloves to pick the lock with the special tools he always carried.
“No alarms,” Diane whispered as they stood there looking around the spacious living room/office of the luxury rental quarters.
“No need,” Lee reminded. “The place is secure—right?”
“I noticed that Victor carries an expensive PDA. He’s bound to have a notebook or laptop computer too. I wonder where it is?” Diane looked around, spotting an Internet port located at the rear of the cherry-wood desk in the corner, beside a big armchair.
“Forget the drawers, but maybe there’s a safe in the closet.” Lee checked. “It’s here, but too small for even a notebook computer,” he added a few seconds later.
“How about the traditional hiding place?” She pointed toward the next room, where Lee could see a king-sized bed.
“Might be.” He followed her into the bedroom and lifted up the mattress. At one end of the foundation was a thin, expensive laptop computer. There was a cable attached to the device that enabled the Internet connection.
“Bingo.” Diane picked up the computer, stepped back, and Lee eased the mattress back down. “He’s even got wireless capability,” she added, placing the device on the desk and opening it up to expose the keyboard and screen.
“He’s bound to have password protection. Know how to get past it?” Lee asked.
“I picked up a few tips at a Homeland Security workshop given by a former hacker. But it may take a while. Do we have time?”
Lee started to speak, then he held up his hand. “We’ve got company,” he whispered.