Shrouds of Darkness (15 page)

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Authors: Brock Deskins

BOOK: Shrouds of Darkness
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“Why would you do that?” She demands to know. “We were outside! There was no reason to do that.”

“Hey, I asked for my spray back and they wanted to be dickheads about it.”

“Oh please, this has nothing to do with your stupid pepper spray.”

“Then you tell me what it was about, Nancy Drew-Freud,” I respond hotly.

“It’s about you picking a fight and not being used to being on the receiving end of an ass kicking!”

Well damn it all to hell, a friggin bullseye.

I cross my arms defensively and ask crossly, “What are you, a freaking lawyer?”

“Assistant prosecuting attorney,” Katherine answers with an annoying self-satisfied smile.

I quickly decide to change the subject to one not involving me or my motivations.

“You seemed awfully chummy in there considering the fact that you’re a mutt.”

If she was offended, she didn’t show it. “I’ve kept a lot of them out of jail many times, especially Meat. Lucky for you he owes me.”

“It must be nice having a guardian angel in the prosecutor’s office when you’re an uncontrolled freak of nature.”

“Hey, I’ve kept you out of jail almost as much as all of them put together!” she responds hotly, showing true annoyance for the first time.

“Then I guess my point is proven isn’t it?”

“At least those uncontrollable freaks know how to say thank you.”

“Yeah, how does Meat give his thanks, by the inch or by the pound?”

Katherine glares at me as she white-knuckles the steering wheel. “Why are you always such a disagreeable asshole?”

“Decades of practice, honey.”

Try as I might; I cannot keep Katherine off-balance and annoyed with me. I must be losing my touch. I’ll have to work harder. Her smile is already returning to her pretty face; a smile made from her perfect, full lips. Jesus, what was wrong with me! I force myself to look straight ahead as she starts to speak again.

“What were you asking about in the bar? Did you find anything out?”

“I asked about your father, what kind of a man he was, what kind of a werewolf he was. Had anyone seen him lately? That sort of thing. Speaking of which, why were you in the bar?”

“I was going to do the same thing. My dad rarely went there, but I hoped maybe someone had seen him or if not, just to ask them to keep an eye out for him. So what did they tell you?”

“That he rarely showed himself there and wasn’t much of a werewolf.”

“I could have told you that. I think I saw him shift one time in my life and that was only after Roger and I showed signs of the trait. Mom knows about him of course but he tried to keep it from Roger and me.”

“Let me guess. You started cluing in when you hit puberty at nine and could pitch a softball that made even the lesbians jealous.”

Katherine’s smile grows wider. “You saw that, huh? I went to NYU on a full softball scholarship, not that I am a slouch in the academic area as well. The hardest part was holding back. I maintained the second fastest pitch in the world, but I can break a hundred if I really let loose.”

“Yeah, it looked like you let loose on Meat’s head all right.”

“I knew he could take it and anything less probably wouldn’t have gotten his attention. Have you found anything else out?”

“I went to the coroner’s office and took a look at some of the crime scene photos of a triple slaughter that happened near your father’s office.”

Her smile quickly vanishes. “What makes you think that has anything to do with my father?”

“I looked at some photos of hair that was found at the scene and it was definitely werewolf.”

Katherine shakes her head resolutely. “No, no my father would never hurt anyone. He hates his condition.”

“Even if his life was threatened?”

“I—I’m not sure. Maybe he would to defend himself, but it would have to be really serious. He would run first. Who would want to hurt him or kill him?”

“Someone who either didn’t know who he was or was really stupid. I need to make some calls and find out who these guys were, but I already know they were not innocent bystanders in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I just can’t believe that my dad could do that even then. You don’t know him like I do.”

“I don’t suppose you could identify the hair sample by sight or smell or know anyone who could?”

She shakes her head. “No, dad never shifted; just that one time that I know of and I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the only time he changed around anyone. Ok, some tigs jumped him and he shifted because he thought he was going to be hurt or killed, but where is he? Why hasn’t he come back?”

“That’s the only part that really has me confused. Maybe he feels so horrified at what he did, he can’t come home. Maybe, since he is so unused to shifting, he simply lost control during the rage and hasn’t been able to shift back.”

Katherine looks worried because she knows that my supposition was the most likely explanation.

“What do we do now?”

“Follow the bodies and hope we find him before the wolves get involved.”

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

 

Katherine drops me off at my place and I tell her that I’ll let her know if I get any more information. I watch her drive away before I duck inside. Maybe it is just my ego talking, but I can’t shake the feeling she was flirting with me and I really didn’t know how to deal with that. It’s never good to get involved with a client, especially when she’s half werewolf.

I decide that it is best to keep my mind on work so I called Angel’s office phone. It rings five times before someone picks it up.

“Detective Sergeant Castillo,” comes the answer.

Oh shit. How the hell did I dial Satan? That has to be outside my calling plan.

 “Uh, Angel please.”

“He’s on another line. Can I help you?”

Yeah, you can shoot yourself in the face. “No, I’ll hold for Angel.”

“Who is this?” she asks with a profound pause. “Malone, is that you?”

“Uh, no this is his cousin—Vlad.”

Vlad? Jesus Christ my improv sucks.

“Detective Lopez,” Angel says into the phone.

Oh thank God. “Angel, are you alone on this line?”

“Yeah, who is this—Leo?”

“Yeah. I need some information and those bodies you scraped up the other night.”

“Leo, that’s an ongoing investigation. I really can’t give out that kind of information.”

“It’s important. Besides, it’s a dog attack so no need for all the hush hush.”

Angel sighs and pauses to think. “Why are you interested in this case?”

“I don’t care about the case. I’m just curious about who the stiffs are.”

“Bullshit. You ain’t curious about anything. Why are you getting your nose in this?”

It’s my turn to sigh. I hate the way information tends to require two-way communications.

“I have a client who has me looking for someone. I want to make sure none of the vics are my guy.”

“You know, Leo, bullshit answers from you makes my good answers cost more which just serves to pay off the debt I have to you that much faster.”

“Yeah but until then stop busting my balls and make with the info, law monkey.”

“You are such a prick, Leo,” Angel laughs as he starts typing at his console.

“Yeah, that’s the general consensus,” I reply.

Angel comes back a minute later with my answers. “I have one Rocco Kilcuddy, Michael Rizzo, and Jeffery Sanders.”

“What kind of priors are we looking at?”

“The typical. Burglaries, possession, strong-arm robbery, assault. Rizzo was up for attempted murder once but pleaded out to a lesser assault charge.”

“Any involvement with any organized crime families?” I ask Angel.

“Nothing on my profile sheet. I’d have to check with the organized crimes task force to make sure but I don’t think so. They were all just your basic street hoods.”

“All right thanks, Angel.”

I hang up the phone but Angel’s input doesn’t make me feel any better or bring me any closer to solving this case. I already had a pretty good idea of the victims’ identity.

I didn’t know them by name but I knew them by reputation. Like Angel said, they were toughs, thugs, and a general waste of space but they weren’t murderers. So why did they go after Martin? These guys knew the streets well enough to know who was made and not to screw with, so why go after such a high profile target? It doesn’t make sense.

That means I will be pounding the pavement looking for clues and these kinds of clues were probably going to be bodies. Vincent will have to get the Sheriffs involved if the body count goes up, assuming they aren’t already. He said they had other duties but that doesn’t mean they aren’t running parallel to this.

I begin running the streets and jumping rooftops well after the sun goes down. Of course, the odds of me stumbling upon an attack are pretty slim. It’s a big city after all, but I figure if there is going to be more attacks, they would likely happen fairly close to the first one. It’s not like a two or three hundred pound werewolf can take the subway or run down the Brooklyn Queen’s expressway on his way to Manhattan.

I am perched atop a roof overlooking Fort Greene Park since it is near the first attack when I get a call on my cell.

“Yeah,” I say into my phone.

“We got a call for a cleanup on 8
th
and Cumberland. Vincent wanted us to let you know.”

“Got it, thanks.”

That is near the naval yard and only a few blocks from where I am now. It takes me less than five minutes to run there. When I arrive, I find the cleanup crew already at work along with a couple of my favorite Sheriffs.

Quinn accosts me the moment I drop down to street level. “What the hell are you doing here, Malone?”

I ignore his rudeness. Right now, I have better things to do than play who can piss the highest up the flag pole. When I’m on a job I like to consider myself something of a professional. But when it’s over, well, we’ll just see what happens.

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