The Lunatic Cafe (Vampire Hunter 4)

"Her house."

"Give me the address."

"What's wrong?"

"I think Elvira Drew may have set him up to be killed."

"You are kidding me, right?"

"Address, Bert."

He gave it to me.

"I may not be in for work tonight."

"Anita..."

"Save it, Bert. If he gets killed, we set him up."

"Fine, fine. Do what you have to."

I hung up. It was a first, Bert giving in. If I hadn't known that visions of lawsuits were dancing in his head, I'd have been more impressed.

I went back to our little group. No one was talking to anyone. "There have been seven shapeshifters taken in this area."

"What are you talking about?" Dolph asked.

I shook my head. "Just listen." I told him everything about the disappearances. Ending with, "Two more shifters have gone missing. I think whoever skinned the naga thought he was a lycanthrope. It is possible by magic to take a shifter's skin and use it to shapeshift yourself. You get all of the advantages, greater strength, speed, etc... and you are not tied to the moon."

"Why didn't it work with the naga?" Zerbrowski asked.

"He's immortal. The shifter has to die at the end of the spell."

"We know why. Now, where the hell are they?" Dolph asked.

"I've got an address," I said.

"How?"

"I'll explain on the way. The spell doesn't work until dark, but we can't take the chance they'll keep them alive. They have to be worried that the naga healed enough to talk."

"After seeing him last night, I wouldn't be," Zerbrowski said.

"You're not a witch," I said.

We left. I would have liked Edward at my back. If we did find renegade witches and a few shapeshifters on the night of the full moon, Edward at my back was not a bad idea. But I couldn't figure out how to manage it. Dolph and Zerbrowski were no slouches, but they were cops. They aren't allowed to shoot people without giving them every opportunity to give up. Elvira Drew had skinned a naga. I wasn't sure I wanted to give her an opportunity. I wasn't sure we'd survive it.

36

Elvira Drew's house was a narrow two-story set off from the road by a thick line of bushes and trees. You couldn't even see the yard before you turned into the driveway. Woods stretched out all around the small yard, as if someone had put the house here and forgotten to tell anybody.

A patrol car followed us down the gravel driveway. Dolph parked behind a vivid green Grand Am. The car matched her eyes.

There was a For Rent sign in the yard. Another lay beside it, waiting to be stuck in the ground. It would probably go out by the road.

Two clothes bags hung inside the car. The backseat was packed with boxes. A quick getaway was in the offing.

"If she's a murderer, why'd she give you her actual address?" Zerbrowski asked.

"We check out clients. They have to have a place of residence or some way of proving who they are. We demand more ID than most banks."

"Why?"

"Because every once in a while we get a crazy. Or a tabloid reporter. We have to know who we're dealing with. I bet she tried to pay cash with no ID and when asked for three forms of it, she wasn't prepared."

Dolph led the way to the door. We followed behind like good soldiers. Officer Kirlin was one of the uniforms. Her partner was an older guy with greying hair and a round little belly. I bet it didn't shake like a bowlful of jelly. He had a sour expression on his face that said he'd seen it all and didn't like any of it.

Dolph knocked on the door. Silence. He knocked harder. The door trembled. Elvira opened the door. She was wearing a brilliant green robe, tied at the waist. Her makeup was still perfect. The polish on her fingernails matched the robe. Her long blond hair was combed straight back, held from her face with a scarf that was just a touch bluer green than the robe. Her eyes blazed with the color.

Dolph muttered, "Eyes like the ocean."

"Excuse me, what's all this about?"

"May we come in, Ms. Drew?"

"Whatever for?"

There hadn't been time to get a warrant. Dolph wasn't even sure we could have gotten one with what we had. The color of someone's eyes wasn't exactly proof.

I sort of peeked around Dolph, and said, "Hello, Ms. Drew, we need to ask you a few questions about Louis Fane."

"Ms. Blake, I didn't know you were with the police."

She smiled, I smiled. Was Louie here? Was she stalling while someone killed him? Dammit. If the police hadn't been here, I'd have pulled the gun and gone in. There are disadvantages to being law abiding.

"We're checking into the disappearance of Mr. Fane. You were the last one to see him."

"Oh, dear." She didn't back away from the door.

"May we come in and ask you a few questions?" Dolph asked.

"Well, I don't know what I can tell you. Mr. Fane never made our meeting. I didn't see him at all."

She stood there like a pretty smiling wall.

"We need to come in and look around, Ms. Drew, just in case."

"Do you have a warrant?"

Dolph looked at her. "No, Ms. Drew, we do not."

Her smile was dazzling. "Then I'm sorry, but I can't let you in."

I grabbed the front of her robe, yanking it tight enough to know she wasn't wearing a bra. "We either go past you or through you."

Dolph's hand descended on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ms. Drew. Ms. Blake gets a little overzealous." The words were squeezed out between his teeth, but he said them.

"Dolph..."

"Let her go, Anita, right now."

I looked up into her strange eyes. She was still smiling but there was something else there now. Fear. "If he dies, you die."

"They don't put you to death for suspicions," she said.

"I wasn't talking about a legal execution."

Her eyes widened. Dolph jerked back on my shoulder. He pushed me down the steps. Zerbrowski was already apologizing for my faux pas.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dolph asked.

"He's in there, I know it."

"You don't know it. I've called in for a warrant. Until we get it, unless she lets us in or he comes to a window and yells for help, we can't go in. That's the law."

"Well, it sucks."

"Maybe, but we're the police. If we don't obey the law, then who else will?"

I hugged myself, fingers digging into my elbows. It was either that or run up and smash Elvira Drew's perfect face in. Louie was in there, and it was my fault.

"Take a walk, Anita, cool off."

I looked up at him. He could have told me to sit in the car, but he hadn't. I tried to read his face, but it had gone cop blank. "A walk, good idea."

I walked towards the trees. No one stopped me. Dolph didn't call me back. He had to know what I'd do. I walked into the winter-bare trees. Melt fell in droplets onto my head and face. I walked out until I couldn't see them clearly anymore. In winter you can catch glimpses of things for yards, but it was far enough for our little game of pretend.

I angled back for the back of the house. The melting snow soaked into my Nikes. The leaves were a soggy mat underfoot. I had both guns and two knives. I'd replaced the one that Gretchen never returned. They were a set of four that I'd had made for me. Hard to find a knife with a high enough silver content to kill monsters and still take a hard edge.

But I couldn't kill anyone. My job was to get inside, find Louie, and yell for help. If someone in the house yelled for help, the police could come in. Those were the rules. If Dolph hadn't been scared they'd kill Louie, he wouldn't have let me do this. But law or no law, sitting outside while your suspect kills her next victim was hard to swallow.

I hunkered down at the tree line looking at the back of the house. A back door led onto an enclosed porch. There was a door with glass in it that led into the house, and a second door off to one side. Most houses in St. Louis have basements. Some of the older houses originally had only outside access to them. Add a little porch, add a little door. If I was hiding somebody, a basement sounded like a good place. If it was a broom closet, I just wouldn't go in.

I checked the upper-story windows. The drapes were closed. If there were people up there watching, I couldn't see them. Here was hoping they couldn't see me.

I crossed the open ground without getting out a gun. They were witches. Witches didn't shoot you, as a general rule. In fact, witches, real witches, didn't practice a lot of violence. A Wiccan wouldn't have had anything to do with human sacrifice. But the word witch means a lot of different things. Some of them can get pretty scary, but they seldom shoot you.