Blood Drive (Anna Strong Chronicles #2)
Page 23I call Marty back. She gives me directions to the lab. I carry the tooth away with me because I don't want to take the time to write my mom a note explaining why I didn't. I have what we need to get the DNA test run, and the results are all that matter.
The lab is located in a medical complex up on 4th Avenue, Pill Hill. The University of California runs the hospital here, a busy one, and it takes me awhile to find a parking space and hoof it back to the lab. I fill out the requisite forms, turn over the brush and sock, and write a check for "expedited services." I'm told I can return in forty-eight hours for the results.
Forty-eight hours. It'll be a long two days.
Back in my car, I don't realize how tense I am until I glance at my watch, see that it's only noon, and heave a sigh of frustration. Frey won't be available until three. I'm so antsy, my skin prickles. I'm not that far from the office, but after the less than satisfying conversation I had with David this morning, I'm not sure I want to go there. And if by some god-awful chance Gloria is with him, the urge to bite her - really bite the living crap out of her - may be too strong to resist.
I slump into the seat. For the first time I wonder how I'm going to break the news of Carolyn's death to Trish. As despicable as she was, Carolyn was Trish's mother. And when I tell her, how will Trish react? Will she demand to see the body? Will she want to go with her grandparents?
More questions I have no way of answering, at least not yet.
Another glance at my watch confirms it's now two minutes after twelve. If I was human, I could treat myself to lunch to kill time. Or go to the gym for a workout. Two things I reluctantly had to give up. The eating thing for obvious reasons. The workout thing because one time I forgot to check how much weight was on the bar and the expression on David's face when I effortlessly bench-pressed the same three hundred pounds he had struggled with moments before is something I will never forget. I had to let the bar come crashing down and pretend it almost killed me.
I acted my way out of it that time. I doubt I'd be so lucky the next.
The one thing I can think of doing is driving downtown and arranging to have my new furniture delivered to the cottage. If the store can handle it, I might be able to move in by the end of the week. I can't wait to be back in my own home. And maybe Trish would agree to move in with me while we sort out her future. It surprises me how much I'd like that.
I'm pulling out of the parking lot when I see them. The Blues Brothers from Frey's apartment are sitting in a beige Fairlane across the street from the lab. They are looking right at me, though like cartoon characters, they turn their heads in unison when they catch me looking back at them. I let my gaze pass over them and ease into traffic. Not surprisingly, they pull out too, and fall into place about two car lengths behind.
I have a hard time concentrating on the road. When did they start following me? Did they pick me up at Frey's? Or Carolyn's? I was too preoccupied with getting beat up by Trish's grandmother to notice. Damn. They followed me to my parent's home. They must have. The image of Carolyn's face flashes in my head. I have to get these guys before they decide to pay my folks a visit.
Williams's greeting is curt. "Warren Williams here."
"It's Anna."
A pause the length of a heartbeat. "This is a surprise. Are you ready to talk?"
"I'm ready to ask for a favor. Will that do for a start?"
This time there's no hesitation. "What do you need?"
The car directly behind me has turned right, giving me a clear shot at the Blues Brother's license plate. I read it off to Williams. "I need you to stop that car. I'm heading south on 6th approaching Ash. Do you have a patrol car in the area?"
"To do what?"
"Get some identification. Find out who they are."
There's the half-muffled sound of Williams barking an order. Then he's back on the line. "Patrol car will intercept them in about two minutes, so talk fast. Does this have to do with Carolyn Delaney's death? I read the report. You were on the scene."
It didn't take him long to get that report. I fill him in on what happened this morning - most of it anyway. I have to actually tell him, no mental telepathy. Thought transference doesn't work through phone lines, electrical currents interfere. For once it seems that having to speak the words is a nuisance that takes much too long.
Williams is suspiciously quiet when I finish. Finally, he says, "Anna, if you have evidence that these guys are implicated in Carolyn's death, you need to tell me. We can pick them up right now."
"Believe me, if I had evidence of that I would tell you," I reply. And it's the truth, if for no other reasons than to protect my parents. "If these guys were the ones who killed Carolyn, when the cop stops them, he'll know. Carolyn lost a lot of blood. She was beaten and tortured which means blood spatter. No way could they have avoided getting blood on their skin or clothes."
Williams barks a short laugh. "Then I've dispatched the right car," he says.
I know immediately what he means. "There's a vampire cop in that car?"
"Yep. So even if these guys wore raincoats and rubber boots, if they got a drop of blood on them anywhere, Patrolman Ortiz will pick up on it."
A flash of strobe lights in the rearview mirror gets my attention. "Here we go," I tell Williams. "The patrol car just pulled them over."
"Do you want me to call you on your cell when I find out who these jokers are?" he counters.
I consider it. But there's no place for me to pull over where I won't be in plain sight. I don't want them to guess I was the one who called the cops.
"No. Call me at the office. I'll head over there now."
Williams cuts the connection and I turn on Ash, then again at PCH, and drive to the office. David's parking space is empty, which is a relief. He and Gloria are probably enjoying a nooner somewhere. At least they'll be out of my hair.
"Anna?" It's Williams.
"What did you find out?"
There's a moment of dead air and then he says. "You'd better get your ass down here."
I hate that tone. Especially from a big shit, old soul vampire who, in spite of having two hundred odd years on me, I actually bested once. You'd think he'd show more respect.
When I don't answer right away, he blows an irritated breath into the receiver. "Did you hear me? Or are you being pissy because I didn't say please?"
"Please would help."
"Yeah, well bite me. Get down here. Now. Those guys following you? Guess what. They're Feds."