Anita Blake 24 - Dead Ice (73 page)

“No, that is a good career path for the talent.”

“So it’s just the ability to work with the dead that you don’t like.”

“I have yet to meet anyone who deals in your brand of psychic gifts who isn’t mad, or a charlatan that can barely call a shambling corpse from the grave.”

“If they can call the dead they’re not a charlatan, they just aren’t powerful,” I said.

“Be that as it may, I haven’t found the more powerful animators to be cooperative in the way that makes a team player.”

I laughed. “Well, we are a solitary bunch, I’ll grant you that, but part of that is that people don’t like you when you can raise the dead. They’re afraid of you, and after a while you just want to be left alone rather than having people making the sign against evil behind your back, or to your face.”

“You’re saying I’m prejudiced?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Perhaps, but what you did in Colorado just months ago . . . Blake, you did raise an army of the undead. You raised every corpse in the ground in the Boulder area, and found some dead hikers we didn’t even know how to find. They dropped dead in their tracks when you made the magic go away at the end. The local PD closed three missing person cases that way.”

“I’m glad I could give the family closure,” I said.

“We’ve managed to keep it quiet that it was all you, but people put pictures of the shambling dead, hundreds of them, up on YouTube. The government told everyone that was part of the disease that was rotting people, but you know and I know it was you, all you.”

“Actually it wasn’t all me, it was another ancient vampire who had talent with the dead.”

“That’s another thing I don’t like about necromancers: You can kill them, but that doesn’t always stop them.”

“Treat necromancers like master vampires, Jarvis. Take the head and heart, burn all of it, and scatter the ashes in three different bodies of water.”

“Are you really saying that’s what you want done at your death?”

“It’s in my will, so yeah,” I said.

He studied me for a minute. “You’re afraid you’ll come back.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You’re marrying a vampire, why don’t you want to come back?”

“Because the only necromancers I’ve seen come back aren’t vampires, they’re just super-killing zombies, and I don’t want that.”

“You know you’re a monster, don’t you?” he said.

Gillingham said, “Agent Jarvis!” like he’d shocked her.

“I’m outta here. At least in St. Louis they’re more open-minded than this.”

“I’m open-minded, Blake, I just think you’re dangerous, more dangerous than anyone knows. Maybe more dangerous than you know.”

I shook my head, and said, “Bye, Teresa, I hope you don’t drink too much of this man’s Kool-Aid.”

She made a point of shaking my hand; good for her. I hunted up Manning and Brent to say good-bye and good luck. They did show me good still-frame pictures of the one zombie that “Sir” took with him. She was dark complected, maybe Hispanic, maybe Greek, or southern Italian like our missing bad guy. She was pretty, with long dark hair and brown eyes that were terrified in every picture.

I said good-bye to all the agents in sight that I wanted to talk to. Larry was staying on with the rest of the Kool-Aid squad, but he apologized for Jarvis and seemed to mean it. I wished them all happy hunting and left for the airport. It was time for me to go home.

I
’D LEFT MY
SUV at airport parking, because I hadn’t had any idea how long I’d be out of state. The men in my life had tried picking me up from the airport for a while, but it only worked if I had a set schedule. Crime-fighting was hard to schedule, but I didn’t mind as I drove home from the airport in the soft spring dark, or was that early-summer dark? May was one of those months that could be either in St. Louis, late-summer cool or almost midsummer hot. The calendar could say summer started at some arbitrary astronomical event, but the weather really got the last vote.

My phone rang and the Bluetooth headset actually worked again; I don’t know why that kept surprising me. “Hello, Blake here.”

“Anita, it’s Manny.”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I hate to ask, but Connie and Tomas went to pick up her dress and Tomas’s tuxedo from the bridal shop, and now Connie’s car won’t start. I’ve asked everybody I can think of to go get them.”

“They can’t call AAA?” I asked.

“Tomas has to be on a bus for State tonight.”

There was a time in my life when I wouldn’t have understood how important that was, but that was before Sin got into sports, and I learned that colleges started scouting as early as junior high. “Okay, tell me where they are and I’ll make sure Tomas is on the bus.”

“Oh, Anita, you saved my life. Seriously, Rosita will kill me; I wasn’t supposed to work tonight.”

“I take it Bert persuaded you otherwise.”

“I have one kid in college and a big wedding to pay for; Bert didn’t have to persuade very hard. But I am covered in animal blood, and if I get any of it on the wedding clothes at this late date Rosita and Connie will both kill me.”

I laughed. “Where are the bride-to-be and Tomas?”

He gave me the address for Pearls of Happiness Bridal. I made him repeat the name, hoping I’d misheard.

“I know the area, they’ve got an old cemetery near there. I’ll make sure the clothes arrive unstained.”

“Thank you, Anita, I owe you.”

“You do, but Rosita is going to give me all sorts of wedding info about caterers and things, so maybe it will all even out.”

“Rosita and I married in her mother’s backyard, but for our eldest daughter’s wedding it had to be the big deal.”

“Rosita seems happier than I’ve ever heard her.”

“She’s talking about starting a wedding coordinator business, can you believe it, my Rosita?”

“Tomas is thirteen; she’s probably seeing her days as a stay-at-home mom ending.”

“But a new business beginning just as I’m thinking of retiring?”

“I didn’t know you were thinking of retiring, Manny.”

“Rosita and I had always planned for it when I was sixty, less than five years away.”

“Maybe she’ll go to work and you can be a stay-at-home dad for Tomas’s high school years.”

“Bite your tongue,” he said, “and thank you for the rescue.”

“No problem, Manny.” We hung up and I headed for the bridal shop. I was probably going to have to start thinking about dresses myself soon. God, I hated to shop, and I shuddered at the thought of what kind of dress Jean-Claude would prefer for me. I really hoped he was joking about having crowns made for our wedding, but I was pretty sure he was serious.

I did a group text at a long light, letting them know I was on the ground, and had to rescue Manny’s kids, and that I loved them. I got love back from everyone but Jean-Claude, and he might already be onstage at Guilty Pleasures. He was just announcing acts, not actually dancing tonight, but he still turned his phone off so it wouldn’t disturb the atmosphere he was creating for the customers, and yes, that last was his phrasing, not mine.

The last time I’d seen Connie and Tomas had been the company picnic for Animators Inc. last year. Manny had warned me that his son had grown four inches since then, so I was prepared to not recognize Tomas, but Connie was twenty-five. I knew what she looked like, but I couldn’t remember what kind of car she drove. Damn, I should have asked.

I called Manny back, and asked. “Silver Chevy Sonic, and I’ll send you both their cell phone numbers just in case. I’m about to have to turn my phone off for the ceremony.”

“It’s okay, Manny, I got this.” He thanked me again, and we hung up.

I had no idea what a Chevy Sonic looked like, but rather than ask, when I stopped at a red light, I Googled the car and there were all sorts of pictures of it. It was a smallish, midsize car and sort of roundish. I was not one of those cops that could rattle off car makes and models, or give a great description of a car from a crime scene. If there was an animal involved, that I could describe like gangbusters, but cars puzzled me.

Connie’s car was in the parking lot. She’d even parked under a light, and close to the bridal shop, whose bright windows were advertising prom dresses more than anything else. I guess it was that time of year. It was brightly lit and neither of Manny’s kids were in sight.

I parked beside the car, got out, and peeked inside it. There was a large garment bag on a hanger laid carefully on the backseat. I guess Connie hadn’t wanted to risk wrinkling her wedding dress. I didn’t blame her. There were two small garment bags hanging up. One was probably Tomas’s tux. No idea what the other smaller bag was, some mysterious wedding thing that I’d probably be learning about soon enough.

Maybe they’d gone back into Pearls of Happiness, though I hated the name enough to never go near it. But if there wasn’t a Combat Bride shop I’d probably go someplace equally saccharine. They had just gone back in to call AAA, though they both had cell phones. I took a deep breath, let it out slow, and tried to tell the tight feeling in my gut that they’d just gone back inside the shop for some reason. Being a cop of any flavor tended to make you paranoid. The paranoia wasn’t always right.

I went to the bridal shop, telling myself that they’d be there. Maybe they had to use the bathroom? It didn’t have to be something bad. I just needed to tell the cop part of me to lighten up. It was so bright inside the shop that it almost hurt after being out in the dark parking lot.

A woman in a nice but conservative black dress hurried forward, smiling. “Hello, I’m Anne, welcome to Pearls of Happiness, we’re here for all your bridal needs, how may I help you tonight?”

I wondered if I’d looked young enough, would the slogan have been “for all your prom needs”? “Hi, Anne, I’m looking for Connie and Tomas Rodriguez; her car broke down and they called me to help out.”

“Oh, yes, Connie did come in and say something like that. She was going to wait for a friend, and her brother had some kind of important sports thing at school.”

I forced myself to smile wider. “Yes, Tomas is going to State. In fact, I need to get him to his bus ASAP, so if you could just tell them I’m here.”

She frowned and looked flustered. “They went back out to get the bridal gown; Connie didn’t want to leave it in the car, you know how brides are.”

I didn’t actually, but I nodded and smiled, and said, “The dress is in the car still, but Connie and Tomas aren’t in the parking lot.”

“They’re probably sitting in the car,” she said.

“I checked the car, that’s how I know her dress is on the backseat and two other garment bags are hanging up.”

“And they’re not in the car?” she asked.

I took a deep calming breath. “No, Anne, they’re not, and they’re not in here?”

“No, and”—she looked up at a wall clock—“oh my, they went out to get the dress half an hour ago. You’re sure they aren’t out there somewhere?”

“I’m sure they’re out there somewhere, Anne, because they’re not in here, but they aren’t in the parking lot.” I resisted the urge to ask why she hadn’t checked on them. She was a civilian, a soft, fluffy, easily flustered civilian, and it wasn’t her job to serve and protect, or even to not be a fucking useless . . . It was my nerves talking. I would have been totally useless at her job here with all the sequined dresses and demanding brides; we all have our strengths. I told myself that as I dialed Connie’s cell phone.

I prayed, “Please let them have called a friend, her fiancé, anything. Let me have made this trip for nothing, just as long as they’re all right.”

Connie’s phone went to voice mail. I didn’t leave a message. I hung up and called Tomas. “Come on, come on, pick up, pick up.”

Anne the saleslady had picked up my anxiety by now and was hovering worriedly around me. I walked away farther into the shop for some privacy and because my nerves were enough without hers. The one thing I didn’t like about the headset was that ambient noise could make it harder to hear.

I left a message this time. “Tomas, this is Anita Blake. I’m here to see you get to the bus for State. Where are you and Connie?”

I called Connie’s phone back. Voice mail again, damn it. “Connie, this is Anita Blake, Manny sent me to get you guys. I’m at the bridal shop, where are you?”

I didn’t want to call Manny yet. There could be logical, safe explanations, but part of me knew that if Connie was so worried about her wedding dress that she didn’t want it left in the car for a few minutes, she would not have walked off and left it in the car like this. My Spideysense had been tingling since I found the empty car. Sometimes it’s not paranoia; it’s just the truth.

My phone rang; it was Connie’s number. I hit the button on the earpiece. “Connie, where are you guys?”

“I’m sorry, Anita, Consuela can’t come to the phone right now.” It was a man’s voice. It seemed familiar.

“Why can’t Connie come to the phone?” I asked.

“She’s a little tied up, or should I say duct-taped.”

“Where’s Tomas?”

“He’s nearby, but I wanted to talk to my sister alone.” I could hear that he was in a car, driving. They weren’t that far yet. Maybe.

“Sister. Manny and Rosita only have one son.”

“That’s right, Manny and Rosita only have one son, and two beautiful daughters,” he said.

I didn’t like the way he emphasized
beautiful
, but I also knew the phrasing about Manny and Rosita was important to him. I just didn’t know why. He hadn’t told me not to contact the police. Thanks to being on the headset I could text and he wouldn’t hear anything, like the text alert noise, not if I turned off my sounds. I knew how to do that, yay! I texted Zerbrowski while I kept trying to think of ways to keep the familiar voice talking. As long as he was talking he couldn’t hurt them, or that’s what I told myself.

The text to Zerbrowski was simple: “Manny’s daughter & son kidnapped. I’m talking on phone with the kidnapper.”

“So how can you be their brother, if they only have three kids?” I asked.

“Half-brother,” he said.

Zerbrowski texted back: “where are you?”

I got the address from Anne the saleslady.