Blood Ties (16 page)

And was yanked off her feet and into the shadows of the big magnolia tree that shaded half the front yard.

Dale McMurry hadn’t stayed past his shift as Bobbie had. He wasn’t the ambitious sort, really. The gig as a part-time deputy offered decent pay and good benefits, and more often than not he served as a less-than-glorified file clerk.

Which suited him just fine.

He didn’t mind at all living rent-free in his parents’ basement, where his mama still cooked for him and did his laundry. It gave him a handy excuse for why all his “relationships” ended by the third date: Girls figured out quickly that he wasn’t a great prospect for their future.

Of course, some might also have figured out that he was gay, but since they hadn’t asked and he hadn’t told, he allowed himself to believe they just thought he was a loser.

His dad might sneer at a loser, but at least he wouldn’t beat the shit out of one.

So far, anyway.

His second-shift job allowed Dale to let himself into the house after midnight, when the old man was usually asleep in front of the TV, and his mama never woke him for breakfast until his dad was at his own job as a mechanic for one of the car dealerships in Serenade.

The arrangement worked for Dale.

However, he wasn’t such a mama’s boy that he wanted to spend all his free time at home. So on that sunny Wednesday morning, he drove his car downtown and parked in the back lot at the sheriff’s department, then walked the block or so to one of the few recreational spots the town could boast, at least for locals: a game room with pool tables, arcade games of various eras, and the latest thing in video poker machines.

Dale didn’t have a gambling problem. What he had was a crush on the assistant manager of the local bank, who often spent his lunch hour at the game room.

Since it wasn’t quite lunchtime, Dale got himself a soda from the snack area, then sat down at one of the arcade machines near the front window, where he could both watch the door and see the sheriff’s department.

Sheriff Duncan hadn’t expressly forbidden it, but he disliked any of his deputies, even the part-time ones, hanging out in the game room,
especially
in the middle of the day.

The street was quiet. Dale noted idly that the two SUVs left for the feds were still parked out front of the station. He fed a few quarters into the machine and began zapping aliens.

G
abriel Wolf was not what anyone would have called a patient man—except in his work. In his work, he had all the patience of his namesake when hunting, with the skills, reflexes, and cunning to match. He could track just about anything over just about any kind of terrain. He also possessed a kind of sixth sense that wasn’t quite psychic, which often told him where his quarry would be—even if that quarry was more predator than prey. And he preferred to flit among the shadows whenever he got the chance.

He considered it an irony of the universe that his twin sister, Roxanne, was the night hunter of the pair.
^*

Don’t blame me for that
.

“I’m just saying, maybe splitting the duty the way we have may not always be the best way to go about things, that’s all.” He spoke aloud out of habit but kept his voice low so nobody would think he was talking to himself and maybe come after him with a net. “Why not shake things up a bit? I could try a nap in the daytime; you could try a nap at night. These abilities of ours are supposed to be train-able. Right?”

Trainable up to a point, but you know the limits as well as I do. Look, if you want to try again, we will. But not in the middle of a case, all right? Pay attention to what you’re doing
.

“How hard is it to walk, for Christ’s sake? I haven’t needed to pay a lot of attention to that for more than thirty years. I’m roaming around in a Christmas store, Rox, just innocent as hell, like any tourist, looking at a lot of sparkly shit I don’t want to buy. And how come so many of these little towns
have
Christmas stores, anyway?”

Because they’re popular. Because tourists come from miles around for a good one
.

“Yeah, yeah. Want a snow globe? There’s one here with Santa and his sleigh inside.”

I think I have
—

When his sister’s thoughts broke off abruptly, Gabriel could feel the familiar crawling sensation of unease; if he
had
been his namesake, the fur would have been standing up stiffly all along his spine. After a lifetime of sharing thoughts, sometimes the absence of them was far more important. “Rox?”

Let’s not play innocent tourist anymore, Gabe. You need to get out of here and to high ground. Something is happening
.

“What is it?” He was already moving toward the exit, but casually so as not to draw the attention of the few other browsers or the store clerks with their slightly comical elf hats.

Not sure. Something closer to the center of town. Wait. Lemme concentrate
.

There was a pause in his mind as Gabriel smiled automatically at the clerk nearest the front door, waved a friendly hand, and exited the Christmas store.

Got it. Our sniper is back
.

Gabriel slid behind the wheel of their rental and started the car. “What, in town? In broad daylight? That doesn’t sound like a pro. Are you sure it’s him?”

Pretty sure. He isn’t shooting. Watching. He’s watching…. Oh
,
shit, Gabe. I think maybe we should have taken him more seriously, kept eyes on him no matter what
.

“We kept eyes on him—until he headed out of town and hit the highway hours ago. You put a bug in his car; we’d know if he came back. I checked just before I went into the store, and there was nothing.” Gabriel dug into the backpack in the passenger seat until he found the GPS tracker. He turned it on and checked the small screen. “Still nothing in the area. That car isn’t within fifty miles of Serenade.”

Maybe he switched cars. Maybe he did a sweep and found the bug. All I know is that he’s back
—
and he has toys I didn’t find in his room or his car. Very dangerous toys. The kind that go boom
.

“Shit. Has he—”

He’s planted one of them in an SUV that’s parked in front of the sheriff’s department. Goddammit, it’s one of ours. One of the two vehicles supposedly left locked up last night. It hasn’t gone off. Yet. And I think…our people have been warned. But he doesn’t know that. Dunno if he has a remote or the bomb’s on a timer, but he wants a seat near the show
.

Gabriel didn’t wait to hear more. He put the car in gear and headed toward the downtown area, where he could leave the car and proceed on foot wherever he needed to go. Which was—

He’s up high, but the only unobstructed view of those vehicles is close in because of the little cluster of the taller buildings right there in the center of town; you should be able to find a rooftop a couple of blocks from the sheriff’s department without him seeing you. I don’t know if you’ll be able to get up higher than he is. And I’m not sure exactly where he is. There’s something… weird about it. Weird about him
.

“What do you mean?”

I don’t know. Something I wasn’t feeling last night. Something cold. Something off. I don’t know, Gabe. But I don’t like it
.

Gabriel pulled out his cell phone, keeping his eyes on the road as he hit a number on his speed dial.

You’re calling Miranda
.

“Damn straight. If this lunatic is capable of building a bomb and willing to set one off, tagging along behind while he has his fun is not my idea of protecting or serving.”

We aren’t cops
.

“No, but we’re here to hunt a killer. And if this one is perched on top of a building with his finger on the trigger of a bomb, I want permission to take his ass out.”

“I
t’s okay,” DeMarco said.

Hollis was conscious of nothing but her pounding heart for a moment or two, then realized that Reese was holding her against his side quite easily with one arm, his gaze scanning the seemingly peaceful Main Street of Serenade. The two black SUVs parked in front of the sheriff’s department several blocks down the sloping road were visible from where they stood.

She wondered if he was even aware of holding her, then wondered why on earth she was thinking about unimportant things when there was a
bomb
, for Christ’s sake.

“What do you mean, it’s okay?” she demanded, out of breath from her wild dash out of the building. She was almost sure that was why she couldn’t seem to breathe evenly. “You knew?”

“You broadcast,” he reminded her. He glanced down at her, one brow lifting as he added, “And loudly under moments of… stress. I have a hunch I’m going to have a headache for the next hour or so.”

“I know I will,” Miranda said as she and the others joined them. “And I had my shield up. Jesus, Hollis.”

“Sorry.”

“Keep in the shadows of this tree,” DeMarco warned. “Once my ears stopped ringing—so to speak—I could feel him out there. It’s hard to get a fix on him, but I’m sure we have a return visit from yesterday’s sniper. He’s watching.”

Hollis was about to demand that DeMarco let go of her when he did.

Damn telepaths.

Quentin said, “Why is he still hanging around?”

“Hollis was told there’s a bomb in one of the cars,” Miranda said, “so presumably he’s hanging around to kill one or more of us.” She sounded very calm about it.

“Told by whom?”

“Andrea.”

He frowned. “Andrea? Spirit Andrea, from Grace?”

“And from Venture.” Miranda frowned slightly too. “She seems to be connected to you, Hollis.”

Hollis found that more than a little unnerving. “I don’t know why, especially since I’ve yet to figure out who she is. Or who she was.” She paused, then added slowly, “You know, she might have been the spirit that led us to the female victim’s remains yesterday. I didn’t get a really good look, and what I saw was a lot less distinct than I’m used to, but… it could have been her.”

“Instead of the victim?”

“Could have been.”

“She seems determined to help us. Or help you.”

“I wish I knew why. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t been connected in any way to our cases. I mean, she warned me about Ruby, gave us a clue that helped Tessa save her, but…”

Miranda said, “She’s connected somehow; otherwise she wouldn’t keep showing up. We just haven’t found the connection. Yet.”

Diana interrupted the speculation to say wryly, “Guys? Sniper? Possible bomb? I mean, I know I’m new at this sort of thing, but doesn’t a bad guy in the flesh take precedence over a helpful spirit? If we’re speculating?”

“I’d say so,” Quentin agreed.

“My question,” DeMarco said, “is whether he has one of the cars rigged to blow when a door’s opened or an engine starts, or whether he’s sitting out there with a remote and a pair of binoculars, able to detonate whenever he likes.”

“Either way,” Quentin said, “we didn’t come prepared for bombs. And I have a hunch the Pageant County Sheriff’s Department doesn’t have a bomb squad.”

Miranda stepped away from them—toward the B&B, still protected by the shadow of the big tree—and pulled her cell from the case clipped to her belt.

As she called the sheriff, the others continued to watch Main Street uneasily.

“I don’t get this guy,” Quentin said. “He’s not acting like any serial I’ve investigated or even heard about.”

“Maybe he isn’t one,” Diana said. When all eyes turned her way, she added, “I don’t mean he isn’t killing multiple victims; I mean he isn’t
literally
a serial killer. But if he’s targeted the SCU, if that’s what this is all about, then like Miranda said earlier, we have an entirely different kind of investigation on our hands.”

Hollis said, “Especially if it’s still a possibility that there are two of them involved in all this. One could be the cool-headed sniper with a methodical agenda, and the other could be the sadist with blood literally all over his hands.”

*
Blood Sins

*
Sense of Evil

*
Blood Dreams

Eight

A
NOTHER PET MONSTER?”
Quentin speculated, then shook his head before any of the others could offer an argument for or against. “No, if we’ve got two involved here, it feels more like a partnership to me. Maybe it’s just a hunch, but that’s the way it feels to me. Two individuals with a plan. Working together.”

“But what’s the plan?” DeMarco asked. “To destroy the SCU? Because that sounds a bit ambitious to me, especially if the idea is to pick us off one by one.”

“It does make a kind of sense, though,” Hollis said, still thinking about the possibility of two enemies working together. “Using this… method. The murders are quite effective at drawing us out, making us visible. And they couldn’t be—you should forgive the phrase—normal murders, because then we wouldn’t be involved. So, serial murders spread out over multiple states, particularly gruesome in nature, with bodies dumped where they’re quickly and easily found, the killings so bizarre and seemingly random that local and state cops or even most FBI units can’t effectively investigate.”

“Enter the SCU,” Diana continued. “Because gruesome and bizarre is pretty much our bailiwick. First two investigators, Miranda and Hollis, with Reese coming and going. Maybe that wasn’t enough for them. Maybe they wanted more of us involved, for whatever reason. To test us, or their skill. So the killings continued, the torture and mangling of the victims’ bodies escalating. Quentin and I join the team a couple of weeks ago, so a larger SCU presence.”

Quentin frowned. “You know, maybe those shots yesterday really weren’t about killing either of you guys. Maybe they were about making us sit up and take notice. Maybe one or both of these bastards decided it was time we knew we were being watched. More fun for them, if we knew about it. More of a challenge.”