Hot Demon in the City (Latter Day Demons Book 1) (14 page)

* * *

Kordevik

"Need a word, man," Mason said after dinner. He'd been up for an hour, but didn't disturb us at the table while we ate.

"Where?" I asked.

"Somewhere private."

"Then come outside. We'll go down the hill a little way."

We walked for a block before I skipped him to a local hangout and ordered a beer for both of us.

"What do you have?" I asked.

"Word that the three kidnap victims aren't really victims. It was a proactive grab, from what I hear."

"By whom? And how would they know?"

"Klancy has connections," Mason lowered his eyes. "He notified somebody, but didn't expect anything to come of it. Something came of it. He only found out tonight—after sundown."

"Are these unknowns on our side?" I asked.

"He didn't say. All he'd say was that they were in a safe place—at least that's what he was told. Nobody can know this, you understand? Word could get back to Granger."

"I can keep a secret," I lifted my beer glass. "Keep me informed, if you wouldn't mind. I hope this isn't some kind of turf war with Granger. I don't like it when people are used as pawns."

"I don't think it's like that," Mason frowned. "At least I hope not."

"Too bad we can't tell their friends and family. Just to give them some relief."

"You can't; it could get Klancy killed," Mason pointed out. "He's a good guy. Don't want that to happen."

"I hear you. Look, if Klancy thinks he's in danger, tell him to contact me. I'll see what I can do."

"I'll let him know," Mason agreed. "Finish your beer; we ought to get back."

Chapter 9

Lexsi

Tuesday, in between running errands for Hannah, (which included a latte and dry cleaning) I searched public records for recent liquor license applications.

I found six, two of which were dated the day before. Still, I included them in the list to check out. Claudia wasn't a stranger to breaking the law; it wouldn't surprise me if she'd opened another place before doing the necessary paperwork.

I was standing in line at the coffee shop when Dan Logan called. "Hi, Dan," I said after seeing his name pop up as the caller.

"Hey, Lexsi," he said. "I just got something from my friend at the Coroner's Office. Turns out our dismembered corpse was a wanted man."

"Really?"

"Sure is. LA County's been looking for him for a while, but everybody figured he'd escaped to Mexico. Nobody heard from him in a while, I know that much. Wanted in a couple of murders, and suspected in a few others."

"No way," I said. "Who could have done that—traded a criminal for a kidnap victim?"

"Nobody knows. Police don't have a clue, but won't admit it. They're just clearing out their files on Gentry Mullins."

"Wow," I said. "Do you want to take the lead on this? Your contacts gave us the scoop."

"I've been informed that Hannah gets spoon-fed everything we find. I wanted to call you instead of her—for the obvious reasons."

"I'm so sorry they're doing this to you," I moaned. "It's just not fair."

"Neither is her attempt to get you fired over nothing," he responded. "Word gets around, you know."

"Yeah, I guess it does. Look, I'll get on this quick. Otherwise Princess Hannah won't get her lead-in for tonight."

"Thanks, Lexsi. I just didn't want to talk to Dragon Lady if I could avoid it."

"Not a problem. Thanks, Dan."

* * *

"Information on Gentry Mullins," I set Hannah's latte on her desk and handed her a tablet with all applicable data on the criminal.

"Why should I be interested in that?" Hannah lifted the latte and drank.

"Because that's whose remains were found east of Vichy Springs," I informed her. "Somebody dressed him up as Brad Nolen before he was torn apart by predators."

"Really?" I didn't like the glint in Hannah's eyes as she lifted the tablet and began to scroll through the information.

"Came straight from a source at the Coroner's Office," I said. "The police are doing a happy dance because they can close the files on Gentry, but they still don't know why all that happened or where Brad Nolen and the others are."

"Set up an interview with Brad Nolen's parents," Hannah said. "We need to milk that grief."

"Huh?" I stared at her in shock.

"What I said. Set it up, little bitch. Tomorrow, if possible."

"All right." I left her office before she could say something else that infuriated me. I will admit to imagining all the ways Hannah might die accidentally before Wednesday. None of them were accompanied by imagined tears.

* * *

Brad Nolen's parents wanted a forum to beg his kidnappers to release him. Hannah wanted a sob story to increase her ratings. I predicted a head-on collision of sorts.

In the interim, I received information on an entire busload of migrant farmworkers who'd gone missing near Tulare. Shortly afterward, a church van loaded with eight people heading across the Texas border into Mexico to do mission work, was also reported missing.

I thought Hannah ought to cover those incidents, too, and sent her information, just to be told that it wasn't as important as other things she planned to cover, one of which was doggy dress-up day in Sacramento.

I sent a quick text to Anita, instead, to let her know strange things were afoot. Before Anita could reply, Hannah ordered me into the editing room to review the doggy dress-up footage from a Sacramento affiliate, so I had to turn off my phone and look at pet costumes all afternoon.

It didn't keep me from wondering how busloads of people could vanish in two different states. Altogether, nearly forty people were unaccounted for, with no clues as to their whereabouts.

* * *

Kordevik

I heard about the missing buses on the radio while waiting in the designated parking lot for Watson. I dashed off a message to Lexsi, asking if she had information on it.

I do
, she replied,
but Hannah refuses to cover it
.

WTF?
I texted.

I'm confused, too. Nearly forty people are missing, the vehicles can't be found and nobody knows anything
.
Wait, something's coming in.

What?

They found the migrant worker bus in a ravine. Ten are missing, the rest are dead
.

I swore, but didn't text that to Lexsi.
You still at your desk?
I asked.

Yes. Hannah's been on an irrelevant tear most of the afternoon
.

No word on the bus in Texas?

Nothing yet.

Crazy. The other stations are getting the jump on us with this.

I know. Lee just shakes his head and hides in his office
.
I've hooked up with an affiliate in Texas and have something ready to go in case Hannah changes her mind
.

That's good. Look, Watson just walked up. Gotta go, onion
.

* * *

Watson was dirty, disheveled and disgruntled when he slid onto the passenger seat.

"Dude, you really ought to find another job," I said. "I need the carwash to spray the inside of my truck."

"Don't start, man," Watson growled. "Claudia already chewed our butts today because we weren't moving fast enough."

"Why's she in such a hurry?"

"No idea. We got the place cleared out, though. Hope she's happy."

"What's next, then? Back to tending bar?"

"Demoted to errand boy," he huffed and turned away to stare out the window. "She said I acted rashly when Granger's vamps came into the old place with the girl."

"And I acted rashly with you," I thumped the steering wheel with the heel of my hand. "She'd rather have you cleaning up the blood of a murder victim than calling out the ones causing the trouble?"

"Look, I don't understand this any better than you do," he snapped. "Let it go, man. You have a price on your head and I'm doing cleanup and errands."

"Are they actively hunting me? Granger's bunch?" I asked.

"So far, the witnesses are afraid to connect the dots for Granger," he turned to blink dark eyes at me. "They see you as somebody who can fight vamps. After your successful bit of rescue and arson, the truth is, they're more afraid of you than him. He doesn't like that, or so I hear."

"Then quit Claudia. You can find something else to do. Get out of town. She sees us together, that could be trouble."

"No, man. That won't happen."

"Which one won't happen?" I demanded. He turned away again.

"Neither," he mumbled. "Let it go."

"You're being morose again."

"Shut up."

* * *

Lexsi

I got home after Kory and Watson did and found them having sub sandwiches with Anita at the kitchen island.

"What's the word on the bus people?" Anita asked.

"Ten people still missing from the migrant worker bus, and the other passengers, according to police reports, died of asphyxiation. So far, nobody knows how that was accomplished. Hannah was forced to run the stuff I collected from the station in Texas."

"What about the other bus?" Kory asked before tapping the barstool next to his.

"No word, yet. Let me change, first," I sighed. "I just want out of these clothes and shoes. They smell like Princess Hannah."

"Then make it quick," Kory said. "I saved the roast beef for you."

"Really? That sounds so good," I said. "I'll hurry."

* * *

"Do you want to go with me to Farin's for dinner Friday night?" I almost stuttered while asking the question. I'd waited for a bit of privacy to ask; Kory and I were loading the dishwasher after we finished our sandwiches.

"You're asking me out?" He went still for a moment.

"Does that offend you? Look, forget it," I turned away. It had taken a great deal of courage to get the question past my lips. Instead of saying yes or no, he'd questioned my invitation.

"No. Nothing like that," he said after a moment. "I was just surprised, that's all. Yes. Of course. When do we leave?"

"You sound like you're ready to go, now." The smile I gave him trembled slightly.

"I am," he declared. "Look, I usually have to do the asking," he pulled me into a hug. "This is so—refreshing."

His arms felt welcoming. Safe. Still, a shiver of anticipation went through me.

Daddy, I want to have sex with a human
.

* * *

Hannah's interview with Brad Nolen's family on Wednesday went just as I feared it would. She asked inappropriate questions, resulting in tears from his parents. I wanted to punch her for that—they had enough grief of their own without Hannah the Horrible adding to it.

Chet and Jesse frowned as they recorded the interview; Hannah hinted at times that the parents may have had something to do with their son's disappearance, which was so outrageous and disrespectful I wanted to punch her a second time.

I worried she'd sit in on the editing session, playing the tears and denials for all they were worth.

Difik
.

Another thing that showed up alongside the news of the missing bus from Texas was that a Texas death row prison inmate was scheduled to die in two days.

No surprise—several states still had the death penalty. That news was mostly ignored in favor of the missing busload of volunteer missionaries, which hadn't been found. Authorities and volunteers were still searching for them and their vehicle.

All of the missing were young men from a state college, who belonged to a religious organization. They spent their summers helping those in need by building or repairing homes in small towns hit by storms and such. The organization was a national charity group and one highly thought of, regardless of your religious convictions or opinions.

The man on death row, on the other hand, had been convicted of killing at least ten women—in horrific ways. I'd done research just to check. He was a vicious man, known for his perpetual scowl and frequent profanity-laced outbursts. He'd exhausted all his appeals—even with a wealthy family paying the best attorneys they could find to get him off death row.

Definitely not a candidate for man of the year. Still, I put a short piece together to send to Hannah, in case she wanted to use it as filler. Visions of her doing a one on one with that character and with no guards present were quickly squashed—this man would tear her apart with his hands.

Good-bye, Loftin Qualls, you won't be missed
, I said to myself and sent the e-mail to Hannah.

* * *

Hannah's piece on the Nolen family was received with mixed reviews at best; nobody liked the browbeating of Brad's parents and they voiced their complaints all day Thursday.

Hannah forced me to respond to those complaints. I didn't attempt to defend her, and the words
sorry
and
apologize
were emailed many, many times. I doubted the negative response would sway Hannah in her next interview with distraught relatives. It ought to, but it wouldn't.

It made me wonder if this were part of the obsession Anita spoke about, or whether that part was all Hannah. Either way, her heart was ice and steel with nothing to thaw it, including the tears of frantic loved ones.

The surprise came just before I was scheduled to go home; one of the young men from the Texas van had wandered into a building in downtown Dallas, disheveled, dirty and confused.

He was currently at a hospital, but there was no further word on his condition or whether he knew where the others in his group were. I went to Hannah and gave her the information I had, plus a phone number for our contact at a Dallas affiliate.

"This is everything?" Hannah waved the thumb drive at me.

"So far. I've asked for updates when they come in; someone at the Dallas station will send whatever they get," I said.

"Then I expect you to take the calls," she snapped. "Get anything new to me before eleven."

"Of course."

That meant taking my work phone and laptop home, but it could be done. Other assistants did it all the time. I also coordinated with the overnight and early-morning crew, calling Dan Logan first and sending the collected information links to his email address.

"I'll let you know what Hannah has for the late broadcast," I told him.

"I can coordinate with Jim and the night crew," Dan said. "You think Lee will let me fly to Dallas?"