Fire Within

“Seems like a nice, sweet girl,” Ari said.

“Pleasant enough.”

“I’ll just bet. She was your date at the auction.”

He grinned. “You noticed.”

Ari bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t admitted that, and pretended interest in a modern wall abstract. “You two seemed quite chummy, darling,” she said, keeping her voice neutral but not looking at him.

He said nothing. The silence grew louder.

“No comment?” Ari turned around and gave him cop eyes.

“What do you want me to say, Arianna? You were not around for many months. Life went on.”

“So, who is she?” When he hesitated, Ari wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. A casual lover? Something more? Ari feared they were moving onto thin ice. She’d come to set things right with him, and this wasn’t a good start. Maybe she should stick to business, always safer ground for them. “Never mind. Your business. I shouldn’t have asked. So, tell me about last night, did you find any trace of Vanessa?”

Andreas lifted a brow but accepted the shift in the conversation. “No, she seems to have been a true loner. No friends I can find within the vampire community.”

“She didn’t like vampires, didn’t want to be one, according to Rita. But she had a human friend. Female. Someone who checked her out of the New World shelter about eighteen months ago.”

“A friend or a romantic attachment?”

Ari frowned, realizing she hadn’t considered that. “Don’t know. But from what her clients said, either is possible.” She filled him in on the sparse information she’d learned.

While she talked, he leaned against the edge of his desk and watched her with a hooded expression. “Where does that get us?” he asked when she finished.

“Nowhere yet,” Ari admitted, flopping down on the couch. “But it’s a new lead.”

“So, this was the latest news you stopped by to report?” He made it a question.

“No, not really. I thought maybe we could declare a truce.”

“I was not aware we were at war.”

“Don’t give me that innocent tone. As I recall, you implied you weren’t talking to me until, and I quote, ‘figured it out.’”

“Have you?”

“What?”

“Have you figured it out?”

“No.” Ari looked away to avoid meeting his gaze. “I don’t have time to think about us. I’m not even sure what the ‘it’ is I’m supposed to figure out. I can’t have a personal crisis right now. I have three murders to solve.” When pushed, Ari tended to push back.

“As do I,” he reminded her.

“You didn’t seem to be worrying about the murders when I arrived,” she shot back. “You acted pretty relaxed, happy with your company.”

“Ah, so we are back to that.” Andreas’s expression darkened. “Are you looking for a fight?”

“No,” she muttered crossly. “I didn’t want that.” She started to add something, but he spoke first.

“Glorius is Daron’s new lieutenant. We were lovers for a month or two. It was over before the night of the auction.” He stopped and waited until she looked up. “I did not owe you an explanation. You should not expect me to indulge you again. As for my hope you would figure it out, that referred to our personal relationship, not our working arrangements.” He swept back the black curl that had a tendency to fall over his forehead. “As it is, the personal will have to wait.”

“Oh. Well, that’s all good, I guess.” Ari couldn’t think of anything adequate to say. She’d sounded like a jealous bitch. How do you laugh that off?

His lips twitched. Ari frowned. For some unfathomable reason he’d found her response amusing. She let it go. “So, any ideas how we find Vanessa’s friend? An old guy at the shelter suggested social service agencies.”

“Which seems to make Shale & Associates the logical place to start. But before I forget to mention it, your Lt. Foster called earlier this evening. They located two witnesses who saw the vehicle used in the drive-by. Two blocks from here a dark blue Buick sedan nearly ran them down. The man got a partial plate number, which the lieutenant is trying to trace.”

“You might have told me sooner,” Ari said.

“I could have, but I told you now.”

She gave him a hard stare. He smiled. Not the reaction she’d hoped for, but better than the invisible tension they’d been generating. “You’re impossible.”

“I think you have mentioned that before.” Still giving her that lazy smile, he stood and opened the door. “Let me redeem myself. Say, over dinner and wine?”

Chapter Thirteen

The following afternoon Ryan called Ari from his duty car to say they had an address for the owner of the drive-by vehicle. He was on his way to the residence.

“Do you need help?” she asked. He'd caught her in the middle of writing up her notes on her morning visits to the social service agencies, and any interruption was welcome.

“No, it’s a human residential area. Better let the uniforms handle it. I’ll call if we pick someone up, and you can meet us at the station.”

“OK. Take care.” Damn, human residential area. That was unwelcome news. If humans were behind the attacks, it wasn’t going to help the growing resentment in the vampire community. She’d almost decided a halfling demon was the culprit, but she couldn’t imagine a halfling blending into a human district undetected or gaining neighborhood acceptance. They were weird looking folks—scrawny; orange skin coloring; coarse, straight hair; and they didn’t touch meat or other human food until it was rotten and moldy. Not the least bit human-like.

Ari returned to her reports. Including Shale’s center, she’d found five social agencies that had some contact with Otherworld clients. None had been acquainted with Vanessa and her female friend’s description was too vague to elicit any positive responses. This was looking like another dead end.

She glanced at her watch. It had been forty-five minutes with no call from Ryan. Any address in Riverdale could be reached in thirty. Had something gone wrong? Maybe the suspect wasn’t at home. She turned her attention back to the computer screen.

The big clock hand made another complete sweep before her phone rang. Ryan sounded out of breath. “We’re headed for the station with one suspect in custody. The other is on his way to the hospital with a bullet in his gut. Don’t think he’ll make it.”

Ari clutched the phone. “Are you OK? What happened?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. A little hyped,” he admitted. “One of the suspects opened up with a pistol, and we fired back. None of our officers were hurt, but we sure stirred up the neighborhood. And they lit up the PD phone circuits. Then the press arrived. What a brouhaha. I’ll tell you all about it later. See you in fifteen.”

Ari abandoned her reports and dashed from the office. The PD would be in an uproar following a shooting, and Ryan would be impatient for answers. This was one suspect interview she didn’t want to miss.

* * *

The air in the cop shop sizzled with tension. When officers were at risk, everyone on the force felt the adrenaline surge. Next time it might be their lives on the line. Ryan’s office was crowded with uniforms and excited voices. Ari smelled the testosterone in the air, and the high levels of energy—even of the human variety—raised the hairs on her arms. As soon as Ryan spotted her, he started waving the crowd toward the door.

“OK, go on, you slackers. Out of here. Some of us still have work to do.”

After more backslaps, the crowd began to move and finally filed out into the hallway. Ari closed the door, silence descended, and Ryan sank into his desk chair.

“What an afternoon.” He raked his fingers through his curly hair. “It might have been one of us.”

Ari nodded in comprehension. The aftermath of an energy rush was setting in, that moment after a close call when a cop realizes he’s survived, but it could have gone either way. Ryan aimlessly shuffled the papers on his desk, straightening, restacking. Ari waited, giving him time to regroup. The suspect would still be in booking. They had plenty of time.

Ari dropped into a chair and let her gaze wander around the room, stopping on a sparrow sitting on the outside windowsill. It was pecking at something, dead bugs or debris.

“What do sparrows eat?” she asked. “Worms? No, I guess that’s robins.”

Ryan looked at her with a startled frown, followed her gaze to the window and grinned, settling back in his chair. “Seeds, I think. Maybe insects.”

“You want to tell me what happened?” she asked, bringing her focus back to his face. “It’s not every day you get into a shootout.”

Ryan took a deep breath. “Not much to tell. We knocked on the door, and someone inside opened fire. Thank God for protocol and bulletproof vests. An officer coming through the back door got the shooter. The other suspect surrendered. He wasn’t armed.”

That was the short version, Ari thought. The long would include the mind-numbing sounds of gunfire and the shouting and boots running and the fear. They didn’t need to mention those.

“What’s the status of the shooter?”

“DOA at the hospital. Knew he wouldn’t make it. Gut shots are lethal.” Ryan glanced at his wall clock. “Booking should be done. Let’s go do this.”

Ari followed him down the hall.

When Ryan opened the door of the interrogation room, the mid-twenties suspect sat slumped forward, an untidy head of mouse-brown hair propped up by one elbow. As soon as he heard the door, he jerked up straight, his body stiff with alarm. Henry “Hank” Philby knew he was in big trouble. “What’s gonna happen to me?” he asked, his voice high, uncertain, clearly not feeling much like a badass right now.

“Well, that depends,” Ryan responded. “You’re in deep shit, Hank.” He pulled up a chair, taking his time, sat down and waited until Ari was settled. “Your buddy died on the way to the hospital. And you’ll be lucky to see the outside of a prison before you need the old folks’ home.”