The Gathering, page 12
A thin figure in black ran back down the corridor.
Shit. Nicholls was ahead of her and gaining on the figure. They ran into the living room, Barbara panting behind. Damn boots and jacket, and she really needed to wear a sports bra for this type of thing.
The intruder sprinted on to the deck, Nicholls right on his tail. The chief grabbed for his jacket, fingers snagging the fabric. The intruder twisted, trying to get away, but he lost his footing and tumbled down the wooden steps, taking Nicholls with him. They both hit the ground hard, but the intruder managed to roll and break his fall. Nicholls landed more awkwardly; leg twisted beneath him. Barbara heard him yell in pain.
She pounded down the steps, stopping to check on him. “Sir, are you—”
“Forget me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Get the suspect.”
The suspect was already struggling to his feet. Barbara couldn’t run fast, but she could tackle. She threw herself at him bodily, grabbing him around the waist and bringing him down. She heard an “oomph” as the breath whooshed out of him. That was what a diet of bagels and burgers did for you, she thought. She pinned the intruder face down on the snowy ground, grabbing his arms and pulling out her handcuffs.
“You are under arrest for breaking and entering and assaulting a police officer.”
She rolled him over.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Don’t shoot me.”
Damn. It was the same kid from the day she arrived. The one Al had almost hit with his cab.
“No one is going to shoot you,” Barbara said. “What’s your name?”
He stared at her with wide, panicked eyes. “Jacob Bell.”
20
The chopper rose into the darkening sky, whisking snow into the air in a mini blizzard. It would transport Nicholls and the Doc’s body to Anchorage Hospital. Marcus’s body would have to remain here, in case Barbara needed to examine it again.
“You’re damn lucky we made it at all,” the paramedic had told her. “Another hour, with the dark and the storm coming in, we couldn’t have flown.”
Yeah, lucky old her, she thought as she watched the chopper disappear into the distance. With Nicholls out of action, she was on her own. And while that had never really bothered her before, here, she was really alone. No other town for miles, no back-up, no support, and if she got cut off by the weather, no escape.
She trudged to the truck, where Jacob was sitting, handcuffed, in the back. She had managed to find the keys to lock up the Doc’s house, which should preserve the scene. But what she wouldn’t have given for a CSI or even another officer right now.
She settled herself into the driver’s seat, grateful at least for the respite from the cold. Her eyes met Jacob’s in the rearview mirror.
“I didn’t kill the Doc,” he said. “He was…like that when I got there.”
“Good to know,” Barbara said. “But we need to go back to the police department to take a statement. And I need to call your dad.”
“He’s not home.”
“You know where he is?”
A shrug.
“Well, let’s try him.”
Grudgingly, Jacob gave her a cellphone number. “He won’t answer,” he muttered.
Barbara called it anyway. The phone went to voicemail.
“Mr. Bell. This is Detective Barbara Atkins. I currently have your son, Jacob, in custody. Could you call me when you get this message?” She ended the call. “You got anyone else I can call for you?” she asked Jacob.
Another shrug.
“Okay.” She turned on the engine. “Well, you’d better think on the way to the police department. I can interview you without a parent or a lawyer present, but you might want someone in your corner.”
They drove in silence back down the main trunk road into town. It wasn’t until the twinkling lights of Main Street drew into view that Jacob suddenly blurted out: “Steve’s mom. You could try her.”
Jess Garrett. Oh good, Barbara thought. Just what she needed.
She parked the car and picked up her phone again. Jacob recited the number.
Jess answered on the second ring, sounding out of breath and impatient.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Garrett, it’s Detective Atkins,”
“What do you want now? Stephen’s told you all he knows—”
“Mrs. Garrett, I have Jacob Bell in custody.”
“Jacob? What for?”
“Chief Nicholls and I apprehended him at Dr. Dalton’s house up by the lake.”
“You’re saying he broke in?”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“Well, what about the Doc?”
“Dr. Dalton is dead.”
“Dead? Oh God.”
“Jacob has requested that an appropriate adult be present during the interview, and I can’t get hold of his dad.”
Jess made a snorting noise. “You won’t. I saw his pickup outside the Lame Horse.”
“The what?”
“A bar out on the AK-3.”
“Right. Well, maybe I should call them.”
“Don’t waste your time. He won’t be in any state to drive home.” Another flustered sigh. “Okay. Well, sure. I guess I can be there. Where’s Chief Nicholls?”
“I’m afraid he’s in Anchorage Hospital with a broken leg sustained while apprehending the suspect.”
“Shit.” There was a long pause. “Is Jacob in a lot of trouble?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Barbara said. “I’m afraid he is.”
* * *
—
They settled in the office, cups of coffee in front of them. Barbara had offered Jacob some coffee, milk or water, but he had declined.
As he sat beside Jess, Barbara was struck by the difference between him and Stephen. While Jess’s son radiated casual good looks, Jacob was thin-faced and scrawny, with pinched features and dark shadows beneath his eyes. He looked underfed and somehow beaten down. She thought again about his dad, Nathan. You can’t choose your parents. Yeah, she knew all about that.
Barbara had located a tape recorder with what seemed to be a working cassette inside it in one of Nicholls’s numerous desk drawers. She would record on her Dictaphone as well, but sometimes it was nice to have a hard copy back-up. Retro. She set both on the table in front of her and pressed record.
“Okay,” she said. “Interview with Jacob Bell. Date: November 15th. Time: 3:29 p.m. Present: Detective Barbara Atkins, Jacob Bell and appropriate adult Mrs. Jess Garrett. You have declined a legal representative, is that right, Jacob?”
He nodded.
“For the record, please,” Barbara instructed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you sure about that, Jacob?” Jess asked. “I know someone you could call in Anchorage.”
“It’s okay, ma’am,” Jacob said. “I don’t need a lawyer.”
Jess looked back at Barbara. “Just for the record,” she said, “if you try to put words in Jacob’s mouth or bully him into signing anything—”
“I can assure you,” Barbara interrupted. “I’m not in the habit of doing either of those things, but thank you for your input.”
“Fine.” Jess folded her arms.
“O-kay,” Barbara said. “Jacob, could you start by telling us what you were doing at the residence of Dr. Dalton, at approximately eleven thirty this morning?”
Jess turned to Jacob. “You don’t have to say anything.”
Barbara bit back her irritation. “Ma’am, we know Jacob was in the house. He knocked Chief Nicholls over and broke his leg, so we just need to establish what he was doing there.”
Jacob fixed Barbara with his dark eyes. “I wasn’t there stealing.”
“So, what were you doing there, Jacob?”
He let out a shaky breath. “I was there to collect the supplies and take them to the drop-off point. I do it for the Doc every week. And he pays me.”
Barbara frowned. “Supplies? You mean drugs?”
He shook his head. “No. Blood.”
“Dr. Dalton was dealing in illicit human blood?”
“Yeah.”
Barbara sat back in her chair. The colonies didn’t rely upon human blood for nutrition, and hadn’t for centuries. Animal blood had been deemed an acceptable alternative, a necessary adjustment to keep the peace between the two species. But still, the craving for many remained. And wherever there is a desire, there are people who will find a way to make money from it.
Selling human blood to the colonies had become a thriving illicit trade. Unscrupulous dealers would source it from the vulnerable who needed cash. Others stole from hospital blood banks. Doctors were not immune to accepting cash for high-quality human blood.
Barbara had worked one case where a pimp kept half a dozen young women chained in a basement to be used for feeding. By the time the department raided the building all but one of the women was dead. Barbara had never forgotten their emaciated bodies, blue from blood loss and covered in bite marks.
Prostitution of a different kind. And, just like paying for sex, in most states it was illegal. For good reason. Once some vampyrs had a taste for human blood they wanted more. And if they couldn’t afford to buy it, they might just decide to take it.
“You know where he got it from?” she asked Jacob.
“Someone in Anchorage. He would travel up there every week.”
Barbara suddenly remembered something else Nicholls had told her: “Rita said he was very thorough. Always took blood.”
I bet he did, she thought.
“So,” she said, “Dr. Dalton would bring the blood back and then what?”
“I’d go and collect it, leave it at a drop-off point in the woods. There’d be cash, jewelry or gold waiting and I’d take that back to the Doc and he’d give me my cut.”
“When was your last supply run?”
“Monday.”
That explained something else. When Jacob ran in front of the cab he must have been running from the Doc’s house. Carrying the supplies. No wonder he had looked scared. Scared he would get caught.
“You almost got yourself run over by my cab that day.”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “That was you!”
Barbara thrust her hand in her pocket and pulled out the shard of glass. She held it up between her finger and thumb. “I found this and some blood on the ground.”
He nodded. “I smashed a vial. The Doc was pissed. It wasn’t a scheduled run. Doc said we needed to do an extra one and it had to be soon, so I was kind of panicked about being caught.”
“You know if the blood was for one particular person, or the Colony in general?”
A shrug. “I don’t know.”
“How much blood did you take up there?”
“Depended. Sometimes I took small amounts in vials, sometimes larger amounts in bags.”
Barbara considered. If the Doc was blood dealing, it might make sense of his death. Maybe he thought he would be exposed and couldn’t face going to jail. Or maybe someone wanted to keep him quiet?
“Why don’t you talk us through what happened today, Jacob?” she said.
“I got there as usual to pick up,” Jacob said. “But something felt kind of off. Normally, the Doc leaves the stuff in a key safe outside so I can pick it up anytime. But the safe was empty and when I went up on the deck, I could see that the door was open.”
“So, you went inside?”
“I went to look for him and…” He paused, swallowed.
“You found him?” she prompted.
“He was just hanging there and…shit, it was horrible, and I just wanted to get out, but then I heard a car and…I was scared of getting caught, so I hid under a bed…and when I got my chance, I ran.”
The sequence of events made sense. But there were other questions.
“You didn’t see anyone else?”
Jacob shook his head.
“Nothing out of the ordinary?”
“I don’t think so…” He broke off. His eyes filled with tears. “Shit, this is such a mess. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“What wasn’t, Jacob?”
“Just…everything.”
Barbara leaned forward. “Does the blood-dealing have anything to do with Dalton paying you boys to fake the video of Marcus being attacked?”
Jacob stared at her in shock. Then he threw a panicked glance at Jess.
“I already know,” Jess said wearily. “Stephen talked. And what you boys did was damn stupid.” She gave Barbara a sharper look. “But Marcus didn’t deserve to die for it.”
Barbara kept her focus on Jacob. “It’s you in the video, isn’t it?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“The fangs?”
“Just fake ones from a shop.”
That explained the bit of pink plastic. It must have broken off the fake teeth.
“I was supposed to scrape his neck up a bit, make it look like he’d been attacked but managed to escape. Me and Stephen would leave, and Marcus would stay behind and follow later.”
“So he never went back for his phone?”
“No.”
“When did you realize something was wrong?”
Jacob swallowed. “We expected the police to come around after Marcus got home and told his mom and dad, but they didn’t. The next morning Marcus’s mom called, asking if anyone knew where he was. That was when we knew something was up.”
All of this tallied with what Stephen had said. But it was good to corroborate their stories. Check for inconsistencies.
“Why didn’t you come forward then?”
“I’m sorry. It was stupid. We should have said something, but we were scared.”
Jess scowled at Barbara. “Can’t you see he’s cut up about this?”
“A boy is dead, and Jacob and Stephen have seriously hampered a police investigation—”
“What does it matter? A vampyr killed Marcus, whatever else happened.”
“Inciting a cull is a criminal offense.”
Jess rolled her eyes. Barbara turned back to Jacob. “How did you get involved with Dr. Dalton?”
He cleared his throat. “Through Marcus.”
“Marcus?”
“He bought drugs from the Doc. Everyone in town knows the Doc is the guy to go to for weed.”
The Doc really was a man of many talents, Barbara thought. And, although marijuana wasn’t illegal in Alaska, selling it to minors was.
“So why didn’t Marcus do the blood-running? Why get you involved?”
“He did it for a bit. But he’d almost got caught by his folks a couple of times. That’s why he wanted to make the video. Seemed like easy money.”
No such thing as easy money, Barbara thought. A damn shame Marcus wasn’t alive to learn that lesson. She glanced at Jess, who was sitting, arms still folded, face grim. Barbara guessed she was wondering if Stephen knew about all of this. How deep in was he? How many more secrets was her son keeping from her?
“Have you any idea why Dr. Dalton wanted to incite a cull?” she asked Jacob.
“No. He never said.”
The more Barbara thought about it, the less sense it made. Why would Dalton want a cull when he was selling blood to the Colony? He’d be cutting off his own cash flow.
The pieces didn’t fit together. And then there was the ring that Tucker had found. How did that tie up with what Jacob had told her about Dalton and Marcus?
“Are we done here?” Jess asked. “Are you going to charge Jacob?”
Barbara looked at Jacob. Was she going to charge him? He hadn’t actually broken into Dalton’s, and the incident with Nicholls was really an accident. But then, running blood was an offense and the boys had also lied and obstructed a murder investigation.
“For now, I’m going to release Jacob under investigation.” Barbara spoke into the tape recorder: “Interview terminated at 4:23 p.m.” She clicked it off.
“So I can go home?” Jacob asked.
Barbara sighed. “Jacob, you’re a minor. Without knowing when or if your dad is coming home, I can’t just let you go.”
“It’s fine,” Jess said. “Jacob can stay with us tonight. It’s not the first time.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Garrett.”
Jess turned to Barbara, and she braced herself, half expecting another diatribe.
“Could I have a word, in private?”
“Of course.”
They stepped outside into the corridor. Barbara pulled the door to.
“I owe you an apology, Detective,” Jess said.
“You do?”
“The boys lied. I was wrong about that.”
“Well, thank you.”
“But don’t think it changes anything. Marcus is still dead, killed by a vampyr. We still need a cull.”
“Ma’am, I can only authorize a cull if the whole colony poses a threat.”
“So, we’re just supposed to sit around, waiting for another attack?” Jess barked out a humorless laugh. “You have any idea what it’s like living in a colony town?”
“Yes, ma’am. I grew up in one.”
The woman faltered, the wind momentarily taken out of her sails. Then she sneered. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me you all lived peacefully, in harmony?”
Mercy. Silver hair floating in the water. Her dad’s voice: “You know what I hate more than liars…fucking vampyrs.”
Barbara kept her voice steady. “No. I’m not going to tell you that.”
“Then help us. When the Colony fled after Todd’s murder, it was like a shadow lifted. Things were good. Now they’re back, another kid is dead and it’s here again—the darkness. The fear. Why should we have to live like that? Why should they be protected?”
“It’s the law, ma’am,” Barbara said, but her words sounded hollow.
