Pulled to the Dark (The Siriena Series) (31 page)

When the entire village had been searched, we met back at the stables. Petra had been crying. "We knew these people," she said. "Not friends, we didn't speak the same language, but we knew them."

"We can't leave the oxen and chicken-things locked up," I said. "I don't know what to feed the chicken-things. Some predator is probably going to catch all of them, but even that's better than letting them starve to death."

"We should bury the bodies," Karen said.

"You go in there and tell me you want to drag them outside to bury them," I told her. "After you have dragged one, I'll help."

"There aren't enough bodies to account for Vincent and his men," Petra said. "These are the villagers only."

"People died in their beds," I pointed out. "That suggests either illness or deep surprise."

"Or they went there with their wounds to die," Andrea suggested.

"Oh shit," said Beth. "Illness. Plague."

"I don't think so," Petra said. "No one ever gets sick here. We've never been able to make anyone sick and I've never been sick here. I've never see
n anyone sick. I don't think this
world allows it."

"Have you seen horses before?" Beth asked.

"No."

"Maybe it takes a different vector," Beth said. "An equine vector. Or maybe if they had horses, they had other animals."

"We're not going to figure this out," I said. "Not without a forensics team." I turned to Petra. "Know any good cops that might be candidates?"

"How about the one that helped you?" Petra asked. "That lady cop."

"I liked her," I said. "She was kind to me."

"It's taking two months to get someone able to come back and forth," Andrea said. "I think any evidence is going to be gone."

"What if we summoned her here?" Erika asked. "Once she had the basics down.
Enough to walk around.
She doesn't need to open doors."

"If Petra and I are the only ones who summon her, she won't recognize Petra even if she sees her. I'm the only one at risk."

"Risk of what?"

"Getting arrested," I said.

"It's not like she could keep you," Erika said.

"I don't want to run from the law for the rest of my life," I replied. "There would be no evidence of foul play, so she'd have to let me go." I turned to Petra. "Would you let rot in the clink?"

She laughed. "I'd bake a cake with a nail file for you."

"I was thinking of a good lawyer."

"What do we do here?" Andrea asked.

"We feed the animals," I said. "And leave them in their cages. Evidence."

"We're taking the horses," Erika said. "This one is
Prancer
. That one is
Softmouth
."

* * *

I watched Erika approach the chicke
n coop. She eyed the animals wa
rily. "If these are like the rabbit from Monty Python," she said. "I am so out of
t
here."

"Three shall be the number of the counting," I told her.

"Yeah, yeah." She opened the coop door, stepped in, and closed it behind her. The animals immediately
ran
over
to her,
looking for food. She steeped inside their hut and came back out holding a burlap sack. "Grain," she said. "I don't know how much to give them." She looked around for a trough, but there wasn't one, so she spread the grain around on the ground. The animals immediately went after it. I watched them for a bit. They were pretty polite little things.

"Petra," I said. "They're cute. Can I keep one?"

"No."

"I promise I won't teach it to poop on your pillow."

She turned
to me and her lips quivered for a moment
. "I already let you have a pony. Be satisfied."

"Uh
uh
," I said. "Erika got two horses. All I want is one little chicken thing. I bet they can learn tricks."

She was having a hard time fighting back the grin.

I turned to Karen. "See? Mom plays favorites. She gave Erika two horses. But we ask for a little chicken thing and she says 'no'."
I paused. "I bet she loves you better, too. I bet if you ask for a chicken thing, she'll let you have one. Heck, she let Erika have two horses, I bet you could get two chicken things." I looked at them critically. "Maybe we could get a boy chicken thing and a girl chicken thing, and then we could have little baby chicken things. They'd be
chicklets
. Speaking of which, I still could really use a
Chiclet
."

Petra turned away, but I think it was to hide the grin.

Once Erika figured out how to feed the chicken things, whatever they were, the rest of us spread out in twos and fed the rest of them at the other farms. We gave them water, too.

After that, we headed back to the castle. The original plan had been to pop back, but we couldn't pop the horses there, so we ended up walking. Erika rode one of the horses. I couldn't have told you which one. She tried to entice Beth up on the other one, which got her nowhere, but then Karen walked over and climbed up. "I don't mind riding," she said. "I like horses."

* * *

We reported in to
Renea
. She was as disturbed about things as we were but liked the idea of trying to recruit a police officer.

"Cops work strange hours," Erika pointed out. "How are you going to catch her asleep?"

"Leave that to me," I said.

I popped home. I still had the paperwork from the break in. I found the file, pulled out Sally's business card, and called her.

"Sally Nelson," came the familiar voice.

"Sally," I said. "This is Felicia Conner. We met several months ago when you rescued me from a break in."

"I remember, Felicia," she said. "How have you been?"

"I've been good," I said. "I moved into a more secure building and don't have too many nightmares about it."

"That's good," she said. "These things can be disturbing."

"Look," I said. "It's been months, I'm sure there isn't going to be any further investigation, and I feel like I never properly thanked you. Will you let me take you out for a drink? You were very kind, and I want to say Thank You when I'm not hysterical."

I heard her hesitate. "It would mean a lot to me," I told her.

"Okay," she said. "Sure. That would be nice."

"What is your schedule like over the next few days?" I asked.

"I'm off until Tuesday," she said. "I'm free tonight."

"Perfect," I said. "Eight PM? Where would you like to meet?"

"How about if I pick you up?" she offered.

I gave her the address.

Petra came home an hour later.

"I have a date tonight," I told her.

"Excuse me?"

"With Office Sally. I'm taking her out for a drink, but I think she turned it all around." I explained everything.

"If you so much as look at her ass," Petra told me. "You will not like your punishment."

"Of course I'm going to look at her ass," I replied. "And if she tries to flirt with me, I'm going to flirt back. But that's it. And I'm doing this for the team, so you better not think of punishing me."

She growled.

"I mean it, Petra. I'm just trying to get her schedule from her. I'm with you. You're the only woman I've ever looked at. Well, except that one time I kind of sized up Andrea, but I was mad at you, and she was wearing that short skirt she wears to the office. The one she wears with the fishnets. You know the one."

Petra stared at me.

I sighed. "Come on, that was good material. It's wasted on you, I swear."

"I'm going to be watching you. Where are you going?"

I took two steps and stared up at her, my hands on my hips. "You are going to trust me, or this relationship is over. OVER. I will not accept being treated like I cheat. What the hell is wrong with you?"

She didn't say anything.

"Besides, ninety-percent chance she likes guys," I added. "The outfit I'm going to wear may go to complete waste on her."

She growled again.

I turned around and walked away, adding some sway to my hips.

* * *

In the end, Petra calmed down and helped me dress. We went for attractive and tasteful. I had no intention of throwing myself at
Sally
. I just wanted her to open up enough I could learn her schedule.

I waited downstairs. A car pulled up in front of my building precisely at eight. It was a bright red sports car. A woman got out and I stepped out
of my building
. At first I wasn't sure if it was Sally or not. "Hi, Felicia," she said, waving. I recognized the voice.

I walked around the car and hugged her.
Like me, she was wearing a winter coat, but she had a pair of boots on, and I caught a hint of nylons. She was made up and had styled her hair.
So much for ninety percent straight.
I wondered whether I'd be fighting her off.

I walked back around and got in the passenger side, buckling up. She climbed in. And looked over at me.

"I'm glad you called me," she said.

"I'm glad you said 'Yes'," I replied. "Cool car. What is it?"

"Dodge Challenger. It's my winter car."

"You have summer car?"

"Nineteen sixty-five Ford Mustang," she said. "I like my cars." She paused. "I got it cheap because it was in bad shape. My brother and I spent two years fixing it up. Now she is better than original."

She looked over her shoulder then pulled smoothly into traffic. I got the impression it was a powerful car, but that she was an excellent driver. It was comfortable letting her drive.

She talked about her Mustang for a while. I realized she and I were alike in one way. We both had things we were passionate about, and once we got going, we kept going. For her, it was the car.
For me, history.

Finally she realized she'd been talking non-stop. "I'm sorry," she said. "I get a little carried away."

"Not at all," I told her. "I know exactly how you feel. You'll see me do the same thing if you ask me about a historical site." I paused. "Where are we going?"

"A little place I know. It's called the Underground Lipstick."

"Unusual name," I said. "Good drinks?"

"The best," she said. "And there's dancing." She paused. "And a solid 'no assholes' policy."

"Are you sure they'll let me in?"

She glanced over and grinned. "I might have to pull strings. Don't worry, I used to date the owner."

"Hmm. Will it
be
safe?"

She laughed. "We figured out early on we made horrible lovers and amazing friends. She even lets me tend bar sometimes. I get a kick out of it."

She glanced over to see how I reacted to the news she was gay. "What is her name?"

"Alicia," she said. "You'll meet her, if she's not too busy. She's there every Saturday."

We made small talk during the ten minute drive. I hadn't been paying any attention, but it looked like we were almost to Edina when she pulled into a parking lot. There were only a few slots left. We pulled into one and climbed out of her car.

She led the way to a side entrance to a building. We climbed down a set of stairs and through a door. The bar was under the building, and it was amazing.

There was a foy
er with a coat check. The place looked like a nineteen-twenty speakeasy. I immediately loved it.

Sally helped me with my coat and managed the check in. We were both wearing little black dresses.
I was in heels
,
she was in boots
. I had to admit, she looked good.

She took my arm and turned us inside, but I stopped and said, "I want to ask you something. I know this is going to sound weird, but. Are you carrying a gun?"

"Yes," she said. "A little one in my purse, just a nine millimeter
short
. Does that bother you?"

"No." I paused. "Maybe you'd teach me to shoot one sometime."

"Sure," she said. "If you're serious and aren't just learning so you can disparage gun owners."

"I'm not out to disparage anyone except asshole gun owners," I said. "I don't know how I feel about guns anymore. I used to be very anti-gun, but I've turned pro-self-defense. I'm just not sure a gun is the right choice for me."

She smiled and took my arm again. We stepped inside the main bar.

I saw one man in the place, and he was tending bar. There may have been more, but if there were, I couldn't tell. "My kind of bar," I said, grinning at her.

She smiled back. "I was hoping you would like it."

There was an actual hostess. She was dressed like a flapper. "Hey, Sally," she said. "Who is this?"