The Gathering, page 31
Barbara raised an eyebrow. “Well, no offense, but I hope I won’t be here to see that.”
“Yeah, wish I could say the same.”
The girl pushed her hood back and straight away Barbara could see her eyes were red and swollen.
“Are you okay?”
Mayflower’s hand fluttered to her face. “Yeah. Well, no. Dan dumped me.”
Of course, Barbara thought. Men like Dan were only ever faithful to an easy life.
“Sorry to hear that,” she said.
“But not surprised?”
“Well, ‘I told you so’ never helped anyone a whole heap.”
“Right.”
Barbara considered. She didn’t really have time to be a shoulder to cry on. Her shoulders were pretty heavy with other stuff, like the trio of corpses in the freezer. But sometimes, you had to put the living first.
“You want a coffee?” she asked.
“I guess.”
“Come and sit down. How d’you take it?”
“Black, no sugar, thanks.”
“Coming right up.”
Mayflower hovered near the booth where Barbara had been sitting.
“Mom and Dad are going apeshit that this place is still shut.”
“Yeah, well, sorry about that,” Barbara said, walking over to the coffee machine and turning it on. “But till we can get the coroner over here I’ve got to preserve the evidence.” She caught herself, thinking that some of the evidence was people. People who, only days ago, had been as alive as she was.
The coffee machine gurgled. She stuck a mug under it.
“You know when that will be?” Mayflower asked.
“Well, if the storm clear ups, hopefully tomorrow afternoon.”
“Right.”
Barbara eyed her carefully. “You really here for beer and steak, or did your mom send you over to quiz me?”
Mayflower shifted awkwardly. “Bit of both. Mom’s used to being the one who knows everything. It’s driving her crazy not being the font of all gossip.”
Barbara smiled and brought the coffee over. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t share any information about an ongoing investigation.”
“Yeah, I thought that’s what you’d say.” Mayflower accepted the coffee and sat down.
“Look,” Barbara said. “I understand that people are worried, and angry, right now. But Deputy Tucker and I are doing all we can to solve this case, bring the killer to justice…and get out of your hair.”
Mayflower nodded. But she still seemed distracted. Something was wrong.
“Any other reason you’re here?” Barbara asked, as casually as she could.
Mayflower looked down into her coffee. It was the first time Barbara had seen the girl uncertain, her armor of attitude lowered.
“Mom and Dad—they’re traditional, right? Grown up in Deadhart, been here their whole lives, say grace before dinner, Second Amendment types.”
“I’ve known a few.”
“But they’re not bad people. Mom can seem a bit harsh, but she works hard to keep this place afloat.”
“And your dad?”
“He used to have a problem with gambling, but he’s stopped.”
Barbara nodded. “That’s good.”
“What I’m saying is…” A hesitation. “When they said they didn’t know about the stuff in the freezer…they were telling the truth.”
Barbara stared at the girl, feeling the sour taste of disappointment at the back of her throat. “But you did?”
“Yeah.” Mayflower’s cheeks flushed. “Kurt Mowlam…before Dan, we had a bit of a thing.”
“Mowlam?”
“No need to sound so shocked.”
“No, it’s just…”
He’s lying dead in the freezer with a stake poking out of his chest.
“I guess he doesn’t seem your type. Go on,” she said.
“A few months ago, Kurt asked if I could do him a favor. Not for free. There’d be some cash in it for me, too.”
“He asked you to store vampyr body parts in your deep freeze?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know Mowlam was involved in illegal artifact trading?”
“Not when I first met him, but later I found out he was involved with the Helsing League. He showed me some of the stuff he collected.”
“Guess that made him even more exciting, right? Every girl loves a bad boy.”
Mayflower’s eyes flashed. “Actually, no. That’s why I dumped him.”
“But you didn’t inform the authorities?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a small town. I didn’t want to make trouble for myself.”
“You could have refused his request, though?”
The girl glared at her. “Look, I’m not proud. But we needed the extra cash, okay? This place barely keeps going and, with Dad’s debts, I just thought it would help.”
Barbara nodded. “So, when your parents said the Doc asked them, they lied to protect you.”
“Yeah. They were pretty pissed.”
Barbara thought of something else. “You gave Mowlam a key so he could sneak stuff in and out?”
Mayflower nodded. “I didn’t know he’d shut you in the freezer, okay?”
Barbara was willing to believe her.
“Why are you telling me now?” she asked.
“Because Mom said if all this comes out, if you charge them for keeping vampyr artifacts in the freezer, they’ll lose this place, and I don’t know what they’ll do if that happens.”
Barbara sighed. She was angry with the girl. What Mayflower had done was wrong, sickening. But she had done it to help her parents. Poor people didn’t have as many options as those with a healthy cushion of wealth. As the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. But sometimes, if you cut people a bit of slack, you could keep them from heading all the way down.
“Mowlam pay you in cash?” Barbara asked.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Then the way I see it, your parents have denied knowing those heads and hearts were in the deep freeze. Without any evidence to the contrary, I shall have to take them at their word.” She gave Mayflower a keen look. “This conversation never happened.”
Mayflower nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
“Now, you got anything else you want to spill?”
“Actually, well, I don’t know if this is relevant…”
“Everything is relevant right now.”
“Okay. I heard Kurt had started visiting the church pretty regularly.”
Barbara sat back. “You mean ‘visiting’ as in partaking of prayer, or ‘visiting’ as in…”
“Well, he isn’t the religious type.”
Colleen was a striking woman. And Mowlam had been there the other night. But Barbara couldn’t see Colleen trashing everything she had built here over some stubble and puppy-dog eyes.
“That’s certainly interesting,” she said. “Maybe I’ll have another little chat with Reverend Grey.”
Mayflower nodded. “What about Mowlam? Are you going to arrest him?”
“Well—” Barbara began, and broke off.
She’d heard a noise.
Thud, thud.
“Is that someone at the door?” Mayflower asked.
The noise came again:
Thud, thud.
Barbara shook her head. “It’s not coming from the front door.”
Thud, Thud.
“It’s coming from the kitchen.”
They both slowly turned. The wind rattled the shutters.
And then, of course, the lights went out.
58
Athelinda took out her pipe and tobacco. Carefully, she packed the bowl and lit it. Tucker waited.
They were sitting, just the two of them, in her living room. An honor, Tucker knew. Few were invited inside Athelinda’s abode. It was modest and surprisingly homey. But then what had he expected? Cobwebs and coffins?
She blew out a cloud of smoke. “You must be fucking desperate if you’ve hiked all the way up here to bother me.”
“I am.”
“So, what do you want?”
Tucker took the “becoming” ring out and set it on the table.
“This is Aaron’s, right? The one he was supposed to give to Todd.”
Athelinda picked the ring up. “Where did you find this?”
“In the pocket of Marcus Anderson’s bloodied jacket. Someone left it for me. I think they wanted me to know the killings are connected.”
Athelinda continued to study the ring. Then she muttered something in Vampyric under her breath and slipped it into her pocket.
“Go ahead. Ask your questions.”
“Tell me about the Bone House.”
She tapped a sharp, gold tooth with her finger. “You want to know how they pulled out my incisors to stop me biting, or how every night the men would come? Some just wanted to rape a child. Some liked to do other things only a vampyr is good for.” She sucked on the pipe. “One girl became a cripple. Stumps for arms and legs. Some of the men, they enjoyed that even more.”
Tucker swallowed. His throat felt like it had something stuck in it.
“I was in that place for over five years,” Athelinda continued. “I’ve no fear of hell because I’ve already been there.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her eyes sparked. “I don’t need your fucking pity. I’m just telling you how it was.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “You told Detective Atkins to ask about the Bone House. Why? What has the Bone House got to do with the murders?”
This time Athelinda took longer to reply. Pungent pipe smoke swirled in the air. Eventually, she said:
“There was a boy who worked at the Bone House. An orphan. He served the men drinks, cleaned the place, helped patch up the girls when they got hurt. He was the one who gave me the matches to burn it down.” She paused. “I expected to die in the fire, but he rescued me. Later, I found out I was pregnant. The boy saved us both—me and Michael.”
“What happened to him?”
“For sixty years, I thought he was dead. And then one day, I saw him again. In Deadhart.”
“You recognized him all those years later?”
A thin smile. “Different clothing. Different haircut. But he hadn’t aged. Not a single day.”
Tucker let this sink in. “He was a vampyr, like you?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he, Athelinda?”
“At the Bone House, he went by the name Isaac. When I saw him again, he had a different name—”
“What?”
“Nathan Bell.”
“Shit,” Tucker cursed.
All along, they had been right.
“You never spoke up,” he said to Athelinda. “Not even when Todd was murdered.”
For once, a sliver of uncertainty crossed her face. “Aaron confessed. And just because the boy was a vampyr, it didn’t mean he was a killer. He was living as a human. I couldn’t betray him.”
“But you suspected?”
“Yes. Then you fucked up Aaron’s escape and we all had to run. I had other concerns. I forgot about him.”
“Until you returned this time—and saw him again.”
“When the other boy was killed, I knew.”
“That’s why you told Detective Atkins about the Bone House.” He shook his head. “Why not just tell her who he was?”
“Because I don’t owe her anything. But I owe him. I wanted to believe I was wrong. I even sent Michael to hang out at that shithole lodge. To get information.”
That explained why Michael had been fraternizing with Nathan at the Lame Horse. Except…Tucker frowned. “Nathan Bell is a grown man.”
Athelinda rolled her eyes. “You still don’t fucking get it?”
“Get what?”
“That’s not Nathan Bell.” She leaned forward. “Child vampyrs who aren’t part of a colony will often find a human companion to travel with. They’ll pass them off as a relative—aunt, uncle, parent.”
It suddenly hit. Like a sucker punch.
Athelinda smiled. “Now you get it.”
“Jacob.”
He wasn’t Nathan Bell’s son. Jacob was Nathan Bell. And Isaac. And who knew how many names and lives in between.
Which meant…
“Shit!” Tucker stood.
“What?”
“I need to get back. I have to warn Barbara. He’s not dead.”
59
Barbara entered the kitchen cautiously, Mayflower behind her, flashlight held out in front.
Thud, thud.
Her uneasiness intensified. The noise was coming from the freezer.
“Shit. Is someone locked in there?” Mayflower asked.
Yeah, Barbara thought. But they were all supposed to be dead.
“I want you to go home, get your parents to call Rita,” she said to Mayflower. “Tell her there is a situation at the Grill. I might need her help.”
“But—”
“Go!”
Mayflower looked like she wanted to argue but then thought better of it and hurried out of the kitchen.
Barbara turned back toward the freezer. She could hear the hum of the generator. No more thuds, except from her pounding heart. She drew her UV gun out of the holster, walked up to the door and pushed down on the sturdy handle.
The door swung open.
Marcus’s body lay on the steel table, Mowlam lay next to it on the floor and, beside him, Jacob, wrapped in the silver foil blanket. One, two, three. So, who was knock, knock, knocking on the door?
Barbara walked into the freezer. She stared around and then walked up to Jacob’s body. Her breath plumed out in front of her. She crouched down, knees creaking. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Damn. She put the flashlight down and drew it out with tingling fingers. Tucker.
“Hey—where are you?”
“Almost…back…danger.”
His voice was breaking up.
“Tucker, I can’t—”
“Listen—Jacob…killer…vampyr.”
“What?”
His voice cut through: “Jacob is our killer. Jacob IS Nathan Bell.”
The line crackled and went dead. Barbara looked at her phone. Then she looked back at the body.
Jacob IS Nathan Bell.
She reached forward and carefully unwrapped the blanket from Jacob’s head.
Marcus’s frozen face stared up at her.
What the hell?
And that was when she heard the tear of a zip.
She turned. Jacob leaped from the body bag on the table and landed on the floor. His hair was frosted with ice, throat black with crusted blood.
“Jacob!”
His lips cracked in a smile and he darted for the door. Shit. Barbara pushed herself to her feet and ran after him. The kitchen was dark. She pointed her flashlight around. There weren’t many places to hide in here, except behind the row of stoves.
“Jacob.” She took a couple of steps forward. “Or should I call you Nathan? Posing as your own son. Clever, I’ll give you that.”
Silence.
“You want to tell my why you killed Marcus, and Todd?”
This time he spoke. “Because I’m a killer. All vampyrs are.”
Ahead, to her right. She moved forward in that direction.
“If you’re so proud of being a vampyr, why pretend to be human?”
“I did what I had to, to survive.”
“That why you hooked up with Mitch, pretended to be father and son?”
“We were useful to each other. I helped him scam people. He gave me cover.”
“So, why come back here?”
“Money. The house—and because there’s no place like home—”
Two heavy pans hurtled in her direction. Barbara dodged, but one still skimmed her ear, knocking her into the stoves.
“Owww. Shit!”
She clutched at her ear. The door to the bar thudded open and a dark shadow scuttled out. He was so much quicker than her, and he had the advantage of seeing in the dark. Cursing again, Barbara stumbled after him, bursting through the door into the Grill. She couldn’t let him get out of here. Once he did, he could disappear back into the forest. She needed to block his exit and take him down.
A chair scraped to her left. She spun the flashlight around but could only see more tables and chairs.
“Even if you get out of here, Jacob, you won’t get far with the entire state police searching for you.”
A glimpse of movement ahead. Barbara raised the UV gun. Jacob was faster. He erupted from the darkness and barreled into her, sending them both crashing to the floor. The gun flew from her hand. Jacob lunged for her throat. Barbara felt his hot breath, saw the glint of his teeth. She braced her arms against his chest, raised a knee and jammed it into his groin.
He cried out and his grip loosened. Barbara pulled away and scrabbled for the gun, but Jacob was on her again before she could reach it. He grabbed her head and smashed her skull into the hard floor. Pain and dizziness swamped her. She tried to push him off but could feel her consciousness fading.
“GET THE FUCK OFF HER!”
Something whooshed through the air. Jacob’s head snapped sideways with a sickening crunch, and he fell backward. Barbara squinted up at a huge, dark shadow which gradually solidified into Tucker, wielding a heavy barstool. He put it down and held out his hand. She reached for it, but before their fingers could touch there was an animal-like roar and Jacob reared up from the floor. He flew at Tucker, knocking the big man off balance. Tucker staggered a few paces and then toppled into a table stacked with chairs, Jacob falling on top of him.
“Shit!” Barbara pulled herself up. The gun. Where was the damn UV gun?
And then she saw it, lying a short distance away. She grabbed her weapon and stood up. Ahead of her she could hear crashing, grunts and heavy breathing. She advanced a few steps, pointing the flashlight around. The beam illuminated Tucker and Jacob wrestling on the floor amid broken chairs and an overturned table.
