Sophia (22 page)

 
“Besides,” she continued, brushing her hands together and propping them on her hips. “I like a person’s first impression of me to be of
me,
not him. So . . . I’ve been thinking about how someone—someone human, that is—could find out where Marco and the others lived. They didn’t exactly advertise their whereabouts and you’re all pretty spread out here. It’s not like a person could just drive down streets until they found a house. You can’t even see most of these places from the main highway and half the roads go nowhere.”

“Yeah, Coop’s just one of several unincorporated towns up here. There’s a few thousand people spread out over a couple
hundred
thousand square miles of territory. But property records are public in Washington state. Anyone with online access or a lot of time to kill could search to their heart’s content.”

Leighton nodded. “But that would only tell them the owner of record, not who actually lives there. Plus—and I’m trusting you to be discreet with this, Murphy—most vamps own their property under an alias, or even several different ones. When you live a few hundred years, it’s sometimes necessary to make it look like the property’s been sold, or the owner’s died and the heirs have taken over or whatever. If nothing else, these recent murders prove the wisdom of that kind of subterfuge.”

“I can see that,” Colin agreed. “But if we scratch property records, I don’t need to tell you that means there’s most likely a leak somewhere.”

“Yeah, I know. Raphael’s got someone following up on that, too.”

“And you’ll share what you find,” Colin said, giving her a flat look.

“We’ll share,” she assured him. “Raphael’s not big on Miranda rights, either.”

“Can’t say I blame him. Not in this case, anyway. On a separate track,” Colin continued, “Loren gave me a list of things missing from Marco and Preston’s places. Electronics mostly. Jeremy says nothing was taken from their place, but I figure that’s because they trashed everything looking for him, and then it got too late and they ran before the sun went down. I don’t think they’d been gone all that long when I showed up.”

“Pawn shops?” Leighton asked.

“Not here in town, but I’ve already got feelers out down in the city. A couple of guys on the force down there are former military. We get together once in a while, play poker, talk about old times.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Nobody ever invites me to play poker.” She sighed.

“Aw,” Robbie crooned sympathetically. “We’ll invite you to our game, won’t we, Murphy?”

“Depends,” Colin said thoughtfully. “Does she cheat?”

Leighton grinned. “Only when I have to.”

“You’re in.”

“What about hate groups?” Leighton said, picking up the previous conversation thread. “You guys have any homegrown Nazis around?”

“You’re thinking maybe they’ve added vampires to their list of
Untermenschen,”
Colin commented. “That’s certainly possible. Mostly, they’re over the state line, but we’re close enough to get a few outliers.”

He walked over and picked up his Sig, checking the chamber and magazine before snapping it onto his belt. “Let’s go talk to some people, shall we?”

* * * *

They took Colin’s Tahoe. It was a familiar enough vehicle that the man they were going out to visit wouldn’t disappear at the sight of it. Everyone in Coop’s knew there was a big contingent of vampires in town. If someone involved in these killings saw that big, black SUV of Leighton’s pull up, they’d either take off into the woods or start shooting. Either way, it wouldn’t get Colin the answers he was looking for.

Hugh Pulaski’s place was buttoned up as tight as a drum when they finally maneuvered their way past the several gates he’d installed to block traffic along his mile and a half of private road. None of the gates were locked. That would have been pretty pointless, since a determined visitor could simply walk around. But they were an inconvenience, requiring a driver, or a passenger if he had one, to get out of the vehicle at every gate and find something to prop it open, since they were spring-loaded to close automatically. Hugh liked people to believe he had motion sensors and cameras all over the place, too. But Colin had firsthand knowledge of those kinds of devices, and he was pretty sure they only existed in Hugh’s survivalist fantasies.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Robbie commented from the back seat. He’d been the one who’d gotten out at each of the four gates, complaining that he felt like he had a bull’s eye painted on his back after each one.

“He’s home,” Colin said, jerking his head at a beat-up old pickup off to one side.

“That?” Leighton said, disbelieving. “I thought you good ol’ boys took care of your trucks.”

“We do,” Colin agreed, pulling up next to the pickup. “But Hugh isn’t exactly a good ol’ boy. He’s a trust fund baby—or old man now—with a BS in chemistry from Harvard. You might be wondering if we have ourselves another Ted Kaczynski, but I don’t think Hugh graduated anywhere near the top of his class.”

“So why are we here?”

“Hugh’s not a danger by himself, but he is clued into the white supremacist movement. Hangs around the fringes mostly. Anything else would take too much effort. If something’s going on, he’ll probably know about it, though.”

“Think he’ll talk to us?” Leighton asked, climbing out of the truck.

“I think he can hardly wait,” Colin said, lifting his chin in the direction of the house where he could already hear the rattle of multiple locks sliding open. As they came closer, the heavy door swung inward to reveal a skinny figure in khakis and a flannel shirt, both of which were brand new and a size too big. But what caught Colin’s eye was not Hugh’s version of woodsman apparel, but the shotgun he was aiming straight at the three of them through the screen door.

Leighton stopped in her tracks, snarling at Robbie when he stepped in front of her, placing himself between the shotgun and his primary, just like he was supposed to do.

“Put the damn gun down, Hugh,” Colin said, letting his impatience show, even as his hand drifted over to the Sig Sauer .9 mm on his right hip.

“What’re you doing here, Murphy? And who the hell are they?”

“Put the gun down,” Colin repeated. “And we’ll talk.”

Hugh lowered the gun, but didn’t put it down. Staring at Leighton and Robbie, he pushed open the screen and stepped out of his house, taking the two steps down to the ground, which still left several feet between him and his visitors. “Don’t want those people in my house,” he said, spitting to one side.

“I’m crushed,” Leighton muttered, coming out from behind Robbie. She would have stepped closer to Hugh, but the bodyguard touched her arm in warning. She frowned, but took his advice.

Hugh couldn’t have heard what she said, as far away as he was, but he narrowed his eyes at her anyway, before addressing Colin. “I’m asking you again, Murphy, what do you want?”

Colin eyed the other man. Hugh was mostly posture and bluff, pretending he was some sort of survivalist living out here in the woods with his rickety truck. The truth was his so-called rustic cabin boasted every amenity modern life could offer and the trust fund checks just kept coming.

“You heard about the murders.” Colin made it a statement, not a question.

“A‘course,” Hugh responded, puffing his chest out a bit. “Good riddance to bad trash if you ask me.”

Leighton didn’t like that. She stiffened, one hand easing aside her jacket to give clear access to her own weapon. Colin held out his hand toward her, low and open, in a placating gesture.

“Why would you say something like that?” he asked Pulaski. “What’d Marco or Preston ever do to you?”

“Fuck,” the old man said slowly, dragging out the word. “They’re vampires, ain’t they? Unnatural. Can’t even walk under God’s good sunlight.”

“You do a lot sunbathing, Mister Pulaski?” Leighton asked, eyeing him up and down. “Looking a little pale to me.”

“That’s ‘cuz I’m a white person, missy. Not like that gorilla you’re hiding behind there.”

“Enough, Hugh,” Colin snapped. “I’m sure we’re all very impressed by your bullshit attitude and what a tough guy you are. Now, answer a couple of questions for me, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Ask then. Can’t get rid of you soon enough.”

Leighton turned her head to give Colin a disgusted look. He just shrugged and looked back at Pulaski. “Word is you’re familiar with any white supremacist groups operating in these parts,” he said.

“A‘course,” Pulaski said again. “Ain’t much I don’t know.”

“You know if they had anything to do with these murders?”

“Like I’d tell you if they did?”

“Well, I’ll tell
you
, Mister Pulaski,” Leighton snapped suddenly. “This is a murder investigation. You might not care for vampires, but they’ve got rights whether you like it or not. And if you know something about what happened out there and don’t tell us, that’s called conspiracy after the fact . . . or maybe you did a little conspiring before the fact? Maybe Murphy here should snap some handcuffs on those skinny, white wrists of yours and haul you into town. Shouldn’t take too long for the County boys to arrive, make a proper arrest.
A‘course
,” she said, mimicking him, “ . . . it might take a bit more than a day, don’t you think? Might get dark in the meantime, and I don’t think that jail I saw at Murphy’s office would do much to keep the vampires out. What do you think, Robbie?”

“Hard to say, Miz Cynthia,” Robbie drawled. “But them vampires are hellacious strong. Why I’ve seen ‘em rip iron bars like that right out the walls. Hell, they probably won’t bother with the bars a’tall. Probably just bust right through them walls.” He paused, as if thinking about it. “Yep, that’s what they’d do, all right.”

“So what’s it gonna be, Mister Pulaski? You want to answer a few questions for us? Or wait until after dark?” She regarded him lazily, a smug smile playing around her mouth. “Personally, I’m hoping you wait.”

Pulaski gave her a hate-filled glare, but not before Colin caught the flash of fear on his face.

“Just tell me what you know, Hugh,” Colin said patiently. “It’ll go no further than the four of us here.”

Hugh shifted his gaze to Colin, back to Leighton and over to Colin again. He took a step back and away from Leighton, his fingers tightening on the gun at his side. Robbie saw it, too. “Cyn,” he said sharply, touching her arm and stepping in front of her again.

The bodyguard’s reaction pleased Hugh and he had a sly smile on his face when he looked back at Colin. “The ones doing this aren’t from around here,” he said abruptly. “Outsiders barging in and taking over like they belong. Shoved aside those of us who’ve lived here all our lives like we were nothing. Brought lots of money and guns, all kinds of equipment and shit I’ve never seen before.”

“You didn’t recognize anyone? Why would they choose Cooper’s Rest, if they’re not from around here?”

“Wouldn’t tell you if I did know ‘em. But I didn’t. As for why Coop’s? Hell, Murphy, it’s ‘cuz of those damn vampires moving in with their big, fancy house and their fucking fancy whores.” He looked at Leighton when he said those last words, giving her a sneering up and down appraisal. “You be careful there, missy,” he said. “A looker like you whoring yourself out, those righteous men might just do to you what they did to Mariane. Woman’ll take it from a vampire, she’ll take it from just about anyone.”

Leighton didn’t even flinch. She just met old Hugh’s gaze and bared her teeth, her eyes going cold and flat. Colin had seen that look on a lot of faces before, but never from a woman.

Not trusting what might happen next, he said, “Fine, we’re outta here. You watch who you keep company with, Hugh. This is gonna go badly for anyone involved with what went down out there.”

Robbie was already hustling Leighton back to the truck, opening the door to the backseat and urging her inside. He slammed the door and waited until Colin was behind the wheel before holstering his weapon and sliding into the truck himself. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he snarled.