Blood Harvest (8 page)

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Authors: Michael Weinberger

BOOK: Blood Harvest
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“Josh,” he read. “Okay Josh, right now your job with Mercy Ambulances, whose people I know always respect crime scenes and the need for confidentiality, is over. Now if you don’t want to be brought up on charges I want to know who you were talking to and I want to know now!”

Before Josh could answer the Captain heard a sound behind him.

“Bleep-boop.”

Turning, he saw Steve handing over to him a reassembled cell phone. The sound was the cell phone powering up.

“No cell phone I ever owned could have survived that. Mine seem to be permanently damaged if they fall out of my pocket.” Smiling, the Captain accepted the phone from Steve.

“The display screen is broken, but I have a friend who owns this model phone. Hit the menu button, then the down arrow twice, then press “OK” and hit send.”

The Captain did as he was instructed. “What am I doing?”

“Redialing the last number,” Steve said with a grin. “Would you mind also hitting the speaker phone button on the bottom right of the keypad?”

“Wait! That’s my phone! Don’t you need a warrant or something?” The medic protested vehemently as he was systematically wrestled to the ground again by the multiple hands holding onto him.

Those still standing leaned in, attempting to hear as the line connected and began to ring. Before the third ring the line was answered by a voicemail system.

“You have reached the
Los Angeles Times
Crime Reporting Division. If you know the extension of your party, please enter it now.”

A collective groan escaped from everyone in earshot of the cell phone.

Chapter 7

“I do not take kindly to this lack of cooperation with law enforcement. Let me give you some forewarning. If your paper releases anything before I give the go-ahead I can assure you that any previous privileges your company has enjoyed in the past will disappear. I don’t care how important you think this story is or how important your editor is supposed to be!”

The Captain slammed his folding cell phone shut reminding Steve how he probably would have slammed the receiver down on his office phone into its cradle if they were back at the precinct.

“Well, some disease control or biological agent type crew is en route. The
Times
is threatening to run the story as some kind of biological terrorist attack unless the LAPD makes a claim to the contrary. This is the kind of thing that puts me in a position to get bitten however I move.”

The Captain was hot, really steaming and twice as animated. Steve wanted to get into the game, but was unsure how the Captain wanted to proceed.

“Where do you want me on this Cap?”

The Captain had been pacing furiously across a fifteen-foot expanse of dance floor, stopping short with Steve’s use of “Cap.”

He glared at Steve for a moment, then looked away, shook his head and chuckled as if responding to a personal joke.

“I want you out of here,” the Captain said when he finally spoke to Steve. “I want you to start building the case with that useless grave robber friend of yours.”

Steve started to protest involving Chris in the case. Although the two had been friends for years and there was no one Steve trusted more, he also knew Chris could, at times, be so eccentric it would become downright unnerving. Besides, it felt like he was being sent away from the crime scene, and after all, there was a huge amount of information still waiting to be collected from the surrounding area. Before any words of protest passed his lips, Steve felt the Captain abruptly grab his arm and pull him toward the exit.

“I know what you’re thinking Jacobs, but you’re gonna have to trust me on this one. Whenever the feds get involved, and they will be involved in this case, things tend to get sticky. I like Special Agent Macintyre and I’m really hoping he is in charge of the team being sent here, but something about this isn’t sitting right with me. I spoke briefly with Macintyre before you arrived and he seems as lost as the rest of us. In my book when the arrogant know-it-alls at the FBI are ready to admit they don’t know something
then
the situation is serious enough for major concern.”

The Captain’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper and Steve had to strain to hear him.

“I want someone on my team investigating this thing, but I have a hunch the LAPD is going to be taken off the case. I want you to stay on it covertly. I don’t mean undercover, I mean completely off the radar. I am going to brief everyone that you and Barnes have other priorities, working on another case maybe, I don’t know. Regardless, you’ll officially be indisposed. Understand?”

He didn’t. The idea actually disturbed him. Sure he had worked undercover before, but this was a lot more like Hollywood spy stuff. Steve began to feel the onset of a nervous tremor and his hand reached for the flask. As he felt the Captain’s eyes on him he casually let his arm fall away from his pocket to his side and willed the tremor to subside.

“I take it Detective that you will be able to handle the assignment
and
compose yourself in a professional manner?” The Captain had given him an over abundance of leeway with regard to this unprofessional “quirk,” but tonight was obviously not the night to push the subject.

“Yes sir.”

The Captain nodded as they made their way past the final line of stacked bodies. Together they stopped and watched as four different gurneys were rolled out of the club with immobile victims on each. They made their way to the yellow police line ribbon. The Captain lifted the yellow ribbon with one hand and pushed Steve under and past with the other.

“Go. Now! We’ll talk later.” Without another word the Captain turned his back on Steve and headed toward the club.

Stunned by the urgency in the Captain’s voice, Steve absentmindedly began walking backwards and away from the scene. He suddenly became aware of the smell of the night air becoming cleaner the further away he moved from the club. He had gotten used to the putrid odor of the air inside and relished the damp but clean smell of the air around him. After a couple of deep cleansing breaths he turned his back to the club and slowly started to walk in the direction of the alleyway where he had parked his car. He briefly considered going back inside the club and confronting the Captain. The man was acting weird and totally out of character, but Steve knew going back inside would not be received well. He had known the Captain a long time; the man could be as immovable as a mountain if he wanted to be. Clearly, he wanted to be that way now. A final mind clearing breath removed the remainder of the desire to confront the Captain. Steve stretched his arms and shoulders out behind him then continued the walk back toward his car.

Chapter 8

Steve felt his body relax as he pulled his car into the parking space at his apartment complex. Nonetheless, all he had witnessed left his mind spinning. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on what his next move was going to be, he couldn’t shake the images of the whole insane night. The Captain had asked him to work with Chris. Why? He wasn’t sure, but getting another person involved was probably a good first step.

God, he felt tired. The adrenaline of the evening was wearing off and was leaving his body feeling drained. All Steve wanted to do was get inside and sleep, although he knew his mind was racing far too fast for that to be a possibility.

“Ah screw it!” Steve pulled the flask from his pocket and drained the contents in a succession of rapid swallows. Instantly, he felt energized and his lethargy left his mind and body, washed away by the cocktail.

The thought that Chris would share in the investigation actually made him feel better. Sometimes Steve would forget how much of a friend Chris was to him. Okay, so the guy had become eccentric during the time he had spent as a M.E., but no truer friend could ever be found. The two used to spend most of their free time together when they had any, since neither of them ever managed to have any lasting romantic involvements. Any distance between them currently existing, Steve knew, was as a result of his not being available after making Detective far more than as a result of Chris being eccentric.

Unbeknownst to Steve as he approached his building, an intense pair of eyes watched from her hiding place. She shrunk back into the shadows at her first glimpse of him; once Steve came further into view she could make out his face and the fact that he seemed to be smiling at some personal joke written on the ground in front of him. Was he drunk? Maybe, but he seemed to have good balance and was generally in control of himself. The woman wondered how he would behave when she stepped fully out of the shadows and revealed her presence to him.

Steve laughed out loud at one particular memory regarding a practical joke he and Chris had pulled on some unsuspecting friends. As the scene materialized in his mind, motion to his left returned his attention to the present. A woman appeared to flow out of the darkness and pause under one of the few operating lights in the parking garage’s ceiling.

Steve froze.

This was not just a woman. This woman was the personification of every man’s adolescent, and probably adult, fantasy brought to life. Steve squinted to get a clearer view of her in the faltering light just as she turned to face him, slowly walking forward.

“Oh…my…God!” Steve barely uttered under his breath as she came fully into view. The strength had been sapped from his bones and the breath from his lungs.

The woman looked young, maybe early twenties, definitely of multicultural descent with predominant influences of Asian and Caucasian origins, wearing all black. Well, at least the little she was wearing was all black. Fishnet stockings exposed her thighs above knee high boots and below her body hugging patent leather “extremely mini” skirt. Her flat abdomen was fully exposed with barely visible striated abdominal muscles twisting with each movement. She wore a black patent leather jacket appearing to have been polished to the same high gloss shine as her boots and miniskirt. The jacket remained unzipped revealing a see-through black lace bra she wore like a bikini top.

She was deeply tanned and lean, without an iota of extra fat anywhere on her five foot seven inch frame. Her arms and legs were extremely muscular; hers was a streamlined look, well-defined, but allowing her to keep all of her femininity intact. Her waist and hips were small, solid, round and smooth; her breasts a size disproportionately large for her frame, resting high on her chest. Her lips were puffed and her Asian eyelids had been widened to give them a slightly more Caucasian appearance while still retaining their exotic “Far East” look. In fact, her face and body had that “too perfect” look, enhanced to a point just before exaggeration by the world’s best cosmetic surgeons.

Steve knew some people would argue she had been altered too far, to the extent she was no longer beautiful. However, this was not an attempt at beauty, but a huge success at becoming “ultra-alluring” with the specific intention of conquering those who would otherwise resist her sexual overtures. Her long hair was typical “oriental-style” straight, jet-black, flowing down to her waistline. As if this weren’t enough, another striking add-on feature included colored contact lenses which tinted her eyes a radiant and completely unnatural shade of royal blue.

As the woman approached she tilted her head down slightly while raising those incredible blue eyes upward. The look appeared innocent and extraordinarily conniving at the same time. She put her arms behind her back, forcing her jacket to open. Steve gasped, without being subtle, as he caught full sight of her breasts. She ran her hands through her hair on both sides of her head and gave her lips a half smile, half pout as she closed the final distance between them.

Steve breathed in the smell of her perfume which increased his sense of vertigo. His eyes crudely scanned her whole body, which was absolutely flawless. He was ashamed of his gawking even as he did it, but he couldn’t stop himself, especially since he knew her.

“What the hell are you doing her Lei?”

Steve could now feel the heat coming off her body. Lei held out her arms and walked into him, embracing him tightly. Steve returned the embrace but kept it to a gentle pat on her back instead of crushing her into himself as he really wanted to do. When she finally released him she reached out to hold and caress his face with her soft hands; it took every ounce of Steve’s concentration not to roll his eyes back into his head and succumb to her touch. He had been longing for this every night since he’d left home so many years ago. The fact that she was here, now, couldn’t be coincidental, nor without ulterior motives. Steve knew that was how she and the rest of his “family” operated, which was ultimately why he had left home. Memory of the betrayal came crashing back into his mind, rudely stirring him out of the momentary bliss that seeing her had given him.

Lei felt his hesitation; it was enough to stop her seduction in its tracks as her face melted into an expression of regret. “Still haven’t forgotten that terrible day I see.”

“How could I?” His words smacked of malice and more so than he had intended.

Lei shook her head in disappointment. “You don’t understand what it was you saw, you never did and, until you face that day and talk to him, you never will.” Lei reached out to lay a hand against his face again, but Steve brought his own hand up and lightly gripped her wrist before she could touch him again.

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