Mysteries to Die For
Page 3
"Yeah," Dagger barked into the phone. It was Sheila, calling to say she bought him an Armani suit to wear to the rehearsal. "Sheila, I'm fine with blue jeans. You didn't have to..." He listened to her ramble, and then said, "I'll call you later." When he turned back to Sara, she was gone. She had left as silently as she had arrived.
He opened the door and ran down the rusting white, wrought iron stairs to the street just in time to see the belching fumes from a battered cab. Returning to his office, Dagger yelled out, "Cab company, Einstein."
"AWWKK. FIVE FIVE FIVE NINE EIGHT FIVE FOUR."
Dagger made the call and was told Sara had been picked up at a coffee shop, not her residence, and they were to return her to the coffee shop.
Einstein bobbed his head several times as he looked around the office.
"Sorry, Einstein. She's gone." Dagger looked up at the ceiling over Einstein's cage and went to work taping a piece of cardboard around the vent to divert the draft. He then called a friend at the Department of Motor Vehicles to trace the plate number on the limousine only to learn that it belonged to Mayor Benton Sawyer. The waters were getting murkier. Standing at the window, Dagger gazed out at the dismal skies, plump clouds ready to dump their moisture.
"Hey, Dagger. How's your bird?" The rhythmic tone and deep laugh belonged to Simon. Hefting his mailbag onto a chair, Simon walked near the birdcage, noticing several feathers lying on the floor. "Looks like he's giving himself a haircut."
"Einstein is in love and upset that his lady left." Dagger held out a cheese curl, which Einstein ignored. "Cheese curls used to be the only things that made him feel better." Einstein continued to preen himself, tossing several more feathers. "If you keep that up," Dagger warned, "you'll be bald and that young lady won't ever look at you again." Einstein fluffed all thirty-six inches of his body and tail, shaking out a couple more brilliant scarlet red, blue, and yellow feathers.
Dagger took the bundle of mail from Simon and laid it on the desk. "You know just about everyone in town, don't you, Simon?"
"Everyone on my run, sure. Who ya' looking for?"
"A young woman. Native American, I think. Long brown hair, turquoise eyes."
Simon rubbed a beefy hand across his chin. "Gotta name?"
"Sara Morningsky. She disappeared before I had a chance to get her address."
"She's not on my run, but there is reservation land down near Cedar Junction. About two or three hundred acres." He gave his bulky shoulder a shrug. "Some large automotive company was building a shmanzy showroom and service facility out there years ago before the county realized the land wasn't anyone's to use."
Dagger entertained the thought of exploring the reservation land after Simon left, but his computer search through the town assessor's records completed its report on Mayor Benton Sawyer.
He leaned back in his chair, plopping his feet on the desk. "Well, Mayor. Exactly how do you fit in with Sergeant Ed Rollins?"
"AWK, CROWN JEWELS." Einstein's vocabulary came mostly from mimicking and word association; and what he said finally struck a familiar chord with Dagger. It had something to do with a conversation he had had with Mick Fazio months ago, but his memory was still hazy. His eyes instead locked on the computer screen where it mentioned S and R Warehouse---Sawyer and Rollins. Mayor Sawyer and Chief Rollins owned S and R Warehouse. Exactly what was stored there Dagger had no idea. But he was going to find out.
"I tried to explain it to him, Grandmother. But there were so many questions I couldn't answer." Sara sat next to a white-haired woman whose face was weathered with lines of age and wisdom. Her veiny hands were clasped around Sara's.
"You must listen to your heart, my child. What does your heart tell you to do?" Ada Kills Bull patted her grandchild's arm. "You want to help him?"
Sara nodded. "Although maybe I shouldn't. I tried helping Detective Fazio and look where it got him."
"It wasn't your fault he was killed. But you can help find his killers."
Sara thought for a moment. "You are right. I'll just go to the warehouse myself."
Dagger lowered his night vision binoculars. S and R Warehouse had been quiet since he arrived an hour ago. From his post behind a boulder on a cliff near the site, he had a good view of the main entrance. He gathered his black leather coat around him to ward off the damp chill the rains had brought.
Headlights appeared down the road. A semi lumbered up to the freight door and a youth with a long ponytail jumped from the truck and unlocked the door. The driver got out and entered the warehouse through the side door. Lights turned on. Another figure stepped out of the rear of the semi. He was thin with ferret features and a receding hairline. It was Ed Rollins. Soon several youths started unloading items, which looked like paintings, sculptures, and velvet bags the size of pouches.
Dagger saw a movement along the side of the building. He scanned the area with his binoculars and zoomed in on a figure. It looked like a dog. Its coat was multicolored, its eyes and mouth surrounded by white fur; but it wasn't a dog. It was a wolf. Wolves in Indiana? Dagger thought.
"Hey!" Rollins yelled. "That's the same mutt that took my badge." The wolf growled and took a lunge toward Rollins. When Rollins pulled a gun from his belt, the wolf rushed into the woods.
Through the binoculars, Dagger watched in horror as Rollins pulled off two quick shots. The wolf howled in pain.
"Let's get moving," another man ordered.
Crouching down, Dagger moved away from the boulder. When he was a safe distance away from sight of the warehouse, he pulled out a flashlight and searched through the dense forest for the injured wolf. From the amount of blood on the trail, it appeared that Rollins had made a direct hit. The blood trail was easy to follow. Dagger found the wolf whimpering, lying on its side, its front legs trying to drag itself to safety.
"Good God!" Dagger shined the flashlight on the wolf's missing right leg, shot clean off. He bent down and examined the wound. The wolf trembled under his touch. Heaving a sigh, Dagger stood up and pointed his gun at the wolf's head. "Sorry about this, but you'll be better off, believe me."
The wolf looked up at him with the strangest colored eyes. They were blue-green. His hand shook as he started to pull the trigger. Then an unusual thing happened. The wolf changed shape. The multicolored fur coat became hair, the legs long and muscular, the body human. It was Sara. She looked up at him with those dazzling eyes.
"For the love of..." Dagger breathed, returning his gun to his holster and shaking his leather coat off. "I have to get you to a hospital."
"No!" Her hands gripped his arms as he wrapped her in his coat. He stripped out of his shirt and tied it tightly around her injured leg that had been shot off just below the knee. "You have to take me to my grandmother. She's the only one who can help. Please, Dagger."
"You need a doctor, Sara." There was an underlying fear and desperation in her voice. Her eyes pleaded and he was a sucker for those eyes.
The door to the downstairs bedroom was slightly ajar. Curious, Dagger peered through the opening at Sara's sweat-soaked body which was covered in a sheet. Sara's grandmother had not seemed the least bit excited about her granddaughter's condition. She had just instructed Dagger to lay her on the bed and thanked him for bringing her home. For some reason, he couldn't tear himself away without getting some answers.
As the grandmother pulled back the sheet, exposing the injured leg, Dagger was shocked to see that half of it had already grown back. The bleeding had stopped, almost as if it had been cauterized. A cold chill crept up his back. Dagger's gaze moved up the sheet, watching Sara's chest rise and fall with each ragged breath. His gaze settled on her face where her opened eyes, filled with tears, were staring right at him. Startled, he pulled away and pressed his back against the wall. Five years as a PI and he had never seen anything that so shocked and bewildered him. His mind was numb, unable to digest what he had seen.
He moved away from the bedroom and surveyed the house, which looked like the sho
wroom and automotive repair facility Simon had talked about. There were stone walls, tiled floors, numerous windows, and skylights. Other than area rugs and what looked like garage sale furniture, there didn't seem to be anything extravagant in the living room. There was one wall of shelving loaded with books, a television, and a VCR. Stairs lead up to a second floor that probably once housed offices that overlooked the downstairs, and there was a catwalk that dissected the width of the living room.
He located the kitchen and with shaky legs dropped down onto a chair. From the looks of all the fresh vegetables gathered on the counter, it would be his guess that they had a large garden out back.
Sara's grandmother appeared out of nowhere and poured two glasses of cognac. She reminded him of Yoda with her stooped appearance and heavy-lidded eyes. His hand shook as he brought the glass to his lips and gulped the hot liquid. She refilled it quickly.
"How is Sara?" Dagger asked in a raspy voice.
"She will be fine," Ada replied. "I can't thank you enough for being there tonight and bringing her back to me." Her eyes had a milky veil and her head shook slightly as if she had a mild case of Parkinson's disease. It was difficult to tell her age.
"What...how did...?" But Dagger couldn't seem to get the words out. He dragged a hand through his long, damp hair.
"Sara is a shapeshifter," Ada explained. "Some say it is just Native American folklore. It was believed elders could shift into animal forms in order to spy on their enemies. Others believed there were those with more bestial natures who would kill the farmers' cattle. I first witnessed Sara's abilities when she was six years old, when her parents died. That was twelve years ago on a reservation in Montana. She withdrew from her human form to deal with the grief. She didn't know how to change back. I took her to a powerful medicine man who had been outcast from the tribe because he was a shapeshifter. They were afraid of him. He took us in and showed Sara how to control her shifting. To some, it is a curse. But to us, it is a magical gift. Sara shifts into two distinct forms."
Dagger paused, his glass near his lips. He was already feeling the effects of the liquor. "There's another shape besides a wolf?"
"Yes," Ada said with a hint of pride. "Besides the gray wolf, Sara also shifts to a gray hawk, a beautiful creature with a wing span of forty inches."
No wonder she couldn't tell me how she got the badge, Dagger thought. "And," he glanced toward the doorway, "her leg. How does she...?"
"A shapeshifter has regenerative powers. Bleeding stops quickly and the body begins to re-grow parts and close wounds."
Dagger shook his head, feeling something rattling between his ears, losing equilibrium. He wondered if this was how people felt right before passing out.
"I know this is all very hard to understand."
"Ma'am," Dagger said as he stood. "You don't know the half of it."
"Yes, I do," was her parting remark.
"Grandmother?" Sara opened her eyes as Ada patted Sara's face with a cool washcloth.
"You must rest, Sara."
"He saw, Grandmother. Dagger saw."
"I know, dear. He's gone now."
Trying to lift herself up from the bed she said, "But the wolf will kill him. There can be no witnesses. The wolf will kill."
"Shhhh. Be still, my child. I am safe from the wolf because you and I are connected by blood. According to legend, he is protected because he saved the wolf." Ada fingered the necklace hanging from her neck. It was a black leather cord with a sterling silver wolf head pendant. Its eyes were made of two bright turquoise gems.
A package was waiting for Dagger the next day when he arrived at his office.
"AWWWKK. YOU'RE LATE; YOU'RE LATE," Einstein scolded as he flew over and clamped his claws onto the back of a chair.
"I know, Einstein." Dagger tore open the envelope and spilled audiotapes on the desk. They were from Mick Fazio with a note instructing Dagger to listen to them if for some reason something happened to him.
Crown jewel. Mick had made that comment in Dagger's office six months ago. That was how Einstein associated Rollins' name with crown jewel.
Dagger listened to the tapes and then made two phone calls, one to Ed Rollins, and the other to a friend with the FBI.
Sara stood on her upstairs balcony inhaling the clean, crisp air. Her thoughts turned to Dagger and how it felt when he held her. She was afraid for him. What if her grandmother was wrong? Legend is just that. Legend. They really had no way of knowing what would happen the next time the wolf saw Dagger. There weren't any rulebooks and no one to confide in. Just like in the past, they might have to run again, get the wolf as far away as possible so it wouldn't be tempted to protect Sara's identity. She would never be able to forgive herself if someone else died because of her.
She stepped out onto the balcony. Night was fast approaching, bringing with it a damp mist. There was unfinished business. That was the problem with having the instincts of the hawk and wolf. Sara could hear things other people couldn't hear, go places and see things not humanly possible. She owed it to Mick Fazio to bring his killers to justice. Smiling, she silently called upon the spirit of the hawk, bowed her head, and felt the spirit enter her. Her dress fell away, shed like some unwanted skin, a cumbersome annoyance. And the hawk took flight.
A semi pulled up, the freight door lifted, spilling the light from inside. When Rollins stepped out of the warehouse, Dagger emerged from his hiding place. Dagger's earlier telephone conversation with Rollins had hinted that Rollins might be in need of someone to replace Mick.
"Are you Dagger?" Rollins asked, his beady eyes studying Dagger. Rollins was joined by a stocky man wearing pounds of gold and an expensive-looking suit that would meet Sheila's approval.
"You must be the fruit of Mayor Sawyer's loins," Dagger quipped. Mick Sawyer took a step forward. Three youths jumped down from the back of the truck, positioning themselves around Dagger. They sported black berets and armbands. The grips of guns could be seen in the waistbands of their jeans. He felt surrounded by three fire hydrants. The best he could hope for was that they had poor aim.
"Calm down, boys," Rollins instructed. "Let's hear what the gentleman has to say."
Dagger pressed the play button on the recorder. Mick Fazio's voice was heard clearly, explaining how he had first suspected something when valuables listed on theft reports were showing up in Rollins' possession. Ed Rollins, head of the Gang Task Force, was using gang members to steal expensive artwork and jewelry from rich suburbanites. The items were then smuggled out of state to fences in New York and Miami. Mick had been working with Internal Affairs to bust the theft ring.
"Pretty lucrative business you two boys have masterminded." Dagger clicked off the recorder as he stepped closer.
"We're not in need of any more partners," Sawyer barked, pulling out his gun. "But we'll take those tapes."
"Not so fast." Dagger held up Rollins' badge. "Lose something, Sergeant?"
Rollins lit a cigar and tossed the match at Dagger's feet. "Think you're pretty brave coming in here?"
Dagger noticed a hawk circling overhead. He saw leaves rustling and the shadow of a figure lurking. Snipers? He had suspected as much and wondered exactly how many were out there. Then the hawk moved to another tree to his right, circling over another shadow lurking in the dark. Dagger smiled slowly and shrugged. "Maybe I'm not alone."
Things happened quickly. FBI agents arrived in four unmarked cars, storming the warehouse as Dagger shot two of the snipers. High-beam lights flooded the area. The youths were inexperienced, not knowing where to run or where to shoot first.
"You okay, Dagger?" The gray-haired agent asked after the dust settled.
Dagger nodded, patting his bulletproof vest. He watched as the hawk lighted on a nearby post, its blue-green eyes shining brightly. Dagger thought he might be reading into it but he could swear the hawk seemed to wait to make sure he was all right before gracefully swooping over the area and disappearing into the shadowy forest.
"Dagger, honey. Where are you? I know I should be mad at you, baby." She started out sounding hurt that he had missed the rehearsal, trying to sound understanding, but then her true character came through. "You son of a bitch. Where are you? Daddy is so upset. But I made excuses for you, again." There was silence for a few moments and then an exhaustive expletive. Sheila hung up.
"AWK. GOOD RIDDANCE," Einstein bellowed as he paced back and forth on his perch.
Leaning back in his chair, Dagger propped his legs on the desk and rubbed his hands across his face feeling the dirt and grit from the gravel lot.
"You never liked Sheila, did you Einstein?" Einstein shook his head frantically back and forth. Dagger smiled. He should give Sheila a call, but he didn't know yet how to tell her he wasn't going to make it to the wedding either.
All he could think of was Sara. Her naked body lying on the ground in the forest, her shapeshifting abilities, and the way her leg had regenerated. He had just come across a magical, undiscovered island, and he had to explore it first.
"And what about Sara? Do you like Sara, Einstein?"
Einstein let out a whistle.
"I don't know why I ever agreed to marry Sheila. This should be a lesson, buddy. Never have more than one martini." Dagger closed his eyes, pressing his palms to his forehead to ward off the headache that was developing.
He felt the air move, and opened his eyes to see Einstein, wings spread, landing on the desk. Einstein plodded over to Dagger and dropped something in front of him. It was a cheese curl.
Dagger smiled as he picked up the treat. "Thanks, but I think it's going to take more than a cheese curl."