Red Tide: The Flavel House Horror / Vampires of the Morgue (The Ian McDermott, Ph.D., Paranormal Investigator Series Book 2) (19 page)

“Yeah that’s what the chief decided when he came up with the idea. Okay then, let’s bag us this Salizzar asshole and as many of his cronies as possible. Especially before the Feds take over with full jurisdiction. Right now, the Feds are in an observe-and-advise-only capacity. So far, our department gets the collar, but that could all change soon.”

Ian interjected, “Yeah, that is if we can be sure there’s good cause that Salizzar and/or his people or some club regular are the guilty party. I mean if evidence is clear and present.”

Ned fired back,
“Yeah, right. That is if the scumbag’s … I mean if there’s sufficient evidence that the pervs are guilty, of course. But they’re guilty, mark my word. Of that you can be certain. Oh, and once again, Ian, and this comes from the chief, don’t you in anyway unnecessarily put yourself or that little missy in harm’s way. Got that?”

Ian replied, “Understood.”

“Okay, later then …”

“Later,” Ian said. He then hung up by switching his phone off.

The stage was set and the ball was in full motion. Zoey looked over at Ian as they headed down the road. “That was that Astoria cop … Ned, wasn’t it?”

Ian replied, “Yeah. He just wanted me … wanted us … to know that he’d be undercover at the club tonight as well. He and a lady FBI agent ... his arm candy.” Ian smiled as he said that, remembering the term that Zoey had used at Clayton’s the night they first met.

“FBI? Wow! This is suddenly getting very real, isn’t it?” Zoey said, sitting further back in her seat.

They arrived in downtown Long Beach. Scout sat up in the back seat and barked once as he spotted a man walking his dog on the sidewalk in front of a store called Stormin’ Norman’s: Kites, Clothing, and Gifts.

Ian remarked, “Maybe I can get a couple sweatshirts in that place?”

Zoey looked over. “Stormin’ Norman’s? Yeah, they’ve got lots of sweatshirts, but most of them will have ‘Long Beach, WA’ embroidered or screen-printed on them. But that’s cool, if you’re into that. Like my uncle would say, that’s as good a place as any and better than most.”

Ian proceeded driving up the block before pulling the car over into a vacant parking spot on the main road, directly in front of Marsh’s Free Museum. Just across and up the street two buildings was Zoey’s shop.

“Hey, why don’t you two men just wait here? I’ll be back in just a few minutes with some clothes for tonight and a few essentials.”

Ian smiled and nodded. But before Zoey exited the car, Ian spoke up. “Hey, um, why don’t you meet me inside?” Ian pointed over towards Marsh’s.

Zoey replied, “Yeah, sure. Cool. Leave the car unlocked, and I’ll put my stuff in when I come back. Then I’ll meet you inside. Nobody’s gonna mess with your car with Scout on guard.” Scout barked twice as if to say,
You got that right.

Zoey left the car and walked briskly, haphazardly, across the street, not bothering walking the few feet further up the street that it would have required for her to use the nearest crosswalk.

Ian wanted Scout to have plenty of fresh air, so he opened the two back windows a couple of inches. It hadn’t rained so far and it didn’t look like it would again anytime soon.

“Okay, buddy. I’m gonna go into that store right over there.” Ian pointed to Marsh’s. “Don’t accept gifts, especially food, from any strangers, or go with anyone if someone was to open the door.” Ian half-believed Scout could understand every word.

“You take care of yourself, and be a good boy. I don’t know why I always tell you to be a good boy. You’re always a good boy, aren’t ya, fella?”

Scout got up on all fours, wagged his tail, and barked twice. Ian reached back and began petting his friend, then reached into his inside jacket breast pocket and retrieved a zip-lock plastic baggy half-full of doggy treats. He gave three small bone-shaped biscuits to his very appreciative furry friend as he said, “Don’t worry, boy. I’m gonna pick you up some proper dog food today while we’re out and about.”

Ian then exited the car and proceeded towards Marsh’s Free Museum. Once inside, he quickly understood why Zoey so fervently wanted him to see the place. For Ian, a former zoologist turned cryptozoologist now reinvented as a paranormal investigator, it was like being a kid in the proverbial candy store … it was love at first sight.

Fifteen minutes later, after browsing around, Ian was staring intensely into a wood-framed glass display that housed Marsh’s curiosity of considerable notoriety, Jake the Alligator Man.

Ian was marveling at the detail of what he surmised in an instant to be a very convincingly clever hoax. Truly the work of a mummification and taxidermy master. Jake reminded Ian of some of the curiosities that he’d seen before in his line of work. In some ways, he was like the Jackalope and supposed Big Foot
hand that he’d once seen in Idaho displayed inside a glass case at a truck stop restaurant and curio shop. Ian suspected Jake to be a master craftsman’s clever amalgamation of a mummified shrunken head seamlessly fused to a likewise mummified body of a small alligator. But he wasn’t completely certain of his theory. Jake appeared even at close examination to be very real.

Ian mused,
If only I had some sort of hand-held x-ray machine. Or … Oh, well. Some mysteries that bring a smile are better off left to the imagination. P.T. Barnum would have loved this place.

Zoey finally managed to pull Ian away from Jake. She began leading him all around the place, which was filled to the brim with curiosities of every kind. Stuffed two-headed animals. Taxidermy corpses of African and Amazonian creatures of all persuasions. A stuffed bear, a lion, and a large shark. Collected shells, rocks, toys, and gift items of more variety than Ian could wrap his brain around. If they weren’t in somewhat of a hurry to get to more pressing shopping and with a specific agenda for the day and night, Ian could have spent at least another hour looking through the place and, more likely than not, purchasing a number of unique things. But alas, the clock was ticking.

Ian reluctantly spoke up, “Well, lions and tigers and bears, oh my. This place is AWESOME! But we should hit a couple of stores that sell clothes and … well … deodorant, toothpaste, and the like. Oh, and dog food. Don’t let me forget dog food.”

Zoey nodded in agreement, then kissed Ian on the cheek. She took his hand and began leading him out of the store, but not before Ian purchased a bumper sticker that bore a picture of Jake on it that read, ‘I brake for Jake - the Alligator Man.’ Ian told the cashier that he didn’t need a bag. He just stuffed the bumper sticker into his pocket, and he and Zoey were on their way.

After several hours of shopping with frequent stops back to the car to check on and occasionally walk and water Scout, Ian had purchased enough clothes and basics to get by for some time. It was 1:35 p.m., and they were all getting very hungry.

Zoey came up with the idea that they visit a local deli and pick up some sandwiches and drinks, then drive out onto the beach so they could gaze at the ocean. Ian thought that was a great idea, so they did just that.

“Wow, it must be high tide. Look at the size of those breakers. And it’s not even windy.” Ian exclaimed between bites of his turkey and Swiss on sourdough sandwich. In addition to the sandwich he was busy polishing off, Ian held in his lap a round Styrofoam container, one that only minutes earlier had been filled with the best Washington coast version of New England style clam chowder that he’d ever tasted.

Zoey was in the final stages of enjoying her Shrimp-Louie salad. Ian didn’t have the heart to feed Scout merely dog food while they were picnicking. Scout had already gobbled up his nearly two pounds of thin-cut, slow roasted roast beef. He was lapping up the remaining contents of a twelve-ounce bottle of water that Zoey had poured for him into one of his two newly purchased dog dishes.

After finishing their lunch, the three took a walk on the beach very near the shoreline. The thin clouds had parted, and the sun was shining bright. At the ocean shoreline it was pretty brisk out, and it seemed to be getting colder as the day went on, not warmer. Ian estimated the temperature to be at best in the mid-fifties, but the occasional sun-breaks against their faces felt warm and wonderful.

Ian spotted a nice-sized stick that was the perfect size for throwing. He picked it up and tossed it up the beach with all his might. Ian was disappointed that Scout didn’t pick up on his attempt to play with him. But then Ian noticed that Scout wanted to play, he just wouldn’t. At first, Ian was confused, but then it dawned on him; Scout wanted to fetch the stick in the worst way but simply would not do it without being commanded to do so.

Ian looked excitedly at Scout. “Go get it boy!” Without a nanosecond’s delay, Scout sprang into action. Within seconds, he was in full galloping stride. He reached the stick in half the time Ian would have guessed possible. Scout grabbed it in his powerful jaws and with no hesitation began racing it back to Ian.

Zoey tried as best she could to get Scout to return the stick to her. She shouted, “SCOUT! COME ON BOY! BRING ME THE STICK!” She laughed when she realized that there was no way Scout was bringing her the stick, even as much as he liked Zoey, and that was very obviously a lot. Scout paid no attention to her calls as he immediately returned the stick to Ian. Scout then set himself right at Ian’s feet and waited patiently for Ian to throw it again. Ian played fetch with Scout time and again over the next twenty minutes, but then Ian realized how late it was getting. He said with a beaming smile, “Well, as much as this has been the best day I’ve had in … in years, and I sincerely mean that, Zoey.” Ian paused to catch his breath before continuing, “We’ve got to get back to the condo and start getting ready for tonight.”

Zoey actually frowned slightly before replying, “Yeah. This really has been. It’s been awesome. Really! But you’re right. Now comes business.”

The three walked to the car and headed back to the condo.

Once back, Ian and Zoey got dressed in their would-be vampire clubber attire. Zoey did Ian’s and her own exaggerated make-up. She then spiked Ian’s jet-black hair with hair product. Ian checked himself out in the bathroom mirror.
Jesus fucking Christ. I look like the offspring of Billy Idol and Alice Cooper.

Ian felt he looked ridiculous. He tried to take solace in reminding himself where he was going and for what reason, and that it was Halloween after all.

Knowing that it might be a very long night, Ian at first thought the best thing to do would be to leave Scout at the condo. But then he started thinking about his trailer burning down. Even though there was no perfectly safe place, Ian finally decided that he would take Scout with them. At least that way he could check on him periodically.
And, like Ned said, having a large, four-legged bodyguard might not be such a bad idea.

Ian fed Scout and took him for a short walk. Then the three of them climbed into the rental car and headed for Astoria for the rest of the day and night. Ian brought two bottles of water and a doggie dish with them. Even though it would neither be very warm nor terribly cold in the car for Scout, Ian wanted him to stay plenty hydrated. Ian didn’t think that Scout would relieve himself in the car no matter how much water he’d drink nor however long he had to be left alone. Ian thought,
What the hell. If I’m wrong, it’s a rental.

Astoria …

It was just after seven in the evening and Ian and Zoey were both getting a bit hungry. They’d been driving around Astoria for the last couple of hours looking at buildings and businesses. The last ten minutes had been spent with them slowly circling the block, staring at every aspect of Salizzar’s residence.

“Ian, are you getting hungry? I sure am, and I know the perfect place. It’s pretty reasonably priced. I mean, it won’t cost an arm and a leg or a large manila envelope full of cash!” Zoey was trying to get some sort of reaction out of Ian, who’d been nearly in a trance-like state for over ten minutes as he continued staring blankly at the mansion.

Zoey replied to her own last statement in the deepest voice she could, “Sure … Sure, Zoey. Getting something to eat sounds great.”

Her exaggerated levity in attempt to get Ian’s attention worked.

“Oh yeah, right. Something to eat. Great. Let’s go. Ian said, finally managing to turn away from his semi-hypnotic attraction to the cryptically creepy Victorian mansion.

Zoey instructed Ian to drive towards the waterfront less than a block away from where they were going to be this evening. Once nearly there, she finally told Ian where she thought they should eat. “There, Ian. Right over there’s the Soggy Dog.”

As Zoey pointed towards the place, Ian saw it as well. He pulled into a parking spot directly across the street from the establishment’s front door. Ian looked at the sign above the door, which read, “The Soggy Dog Saloon and Brewery - Established 1995.”

Zoey looked over at Ian. “I think you’re going to really like this place. They make their own beer, and the food’s great. Like all places around here, seafood’s their specialty. But they’ve pretty much got every kind of sandwich, burger, or … well pretty much everything. As you know, the city of Astoria’s done a really good job of capturing a sort of San Francisco Fisherman’s Wharf look. Well, like I said ... sort of.” She giggled.

Zoey continued, “The Soggy Dog
has a great view of the best part of the docks. It’s really eclectically cool inside. The city even put in a trolley car that takes people up and down the connecting docks. It passes right in front of the place. Anyway, come on. Let’s go in.” Ian was feeling very reluctant to be seen in public given the way he was dressed and made up with black eyeliner, especially while it was still light outside.

Zoey continued, “Ian. You look great! Besides, this place caters to a lot of what you might call forward thinkers.”

Ian mused about Zoey’s description regarding patrons of the establishment,
Ah, artsy-types, musicians, and ... Well, nothing wrong with any of that. I should fit right in.

Zoey continued trying to abate Ian’s self-consciousness. “And besides, it’s Halloween. They’ll just assume we’re here to eat and have some pre-function drinks before going out tonight to some costume party. And hey, that’s about the truth of it. We don’t want to get to Salizzar’s too early but not too late either. Too late, and especially tonight, we might not even get in. I’m guessing that tonight, way beyond the place’s usual crowd, there’ll be a lot of people going there just because it’s a freaky place with a creepy vibe. And with the string of murders, there will be some adrenaline and ecstasy cravers that will be going there for the assumed sexy danger factor. It’s known as a meat market, which will always be packed on special occasion nights, no doubt especially Halloween. The place is the perfect choice for college-age party revelers from here to Seaside. Probably as far away as Portland. No doubt about it’s gonna be totally packed with creatures of the night.” Zoey giggled at her unintentional pun. Ian couldn’t help but crack a smile. Zoey’s unplanned zinger … in fact was, pretty funny.

Ian lowered the back windows a couple inches. The good weather was still holding, but the sky was beginning to look like that might change in the next few hours.

“Okay Scout, you know the drill. We’ll be back soon.” Scout didn’t bark this time. This time, he just let out a slight whimper and a moan-like sound as he went from a standing position to lying down in the middle of the back seat.

Ian and Zoey exited the car then walked briskly hand in hand over to the entrance of the eatery. Ian opened the door for Zoey, and they entered. Inside, around ten feet directly ahead of them were three steps that led upwards and into the restaurant portion of the brewery. Off to their right, just inside the threshold, housed behind a large, transparent glass barrier, were a half-dozen tall, stainless steel tanks that contained whatever types of beers were presently being brewed. The sign said, ‘Please Seat Yourself,’
so they headed up the three steps to do just that.

Ian and Zoey found a table against the windows that looked out over the docks and the river beyond. From where Ian was seated as he stared upriver at the various waterfront buildings, though barely within his panoramic view, he could see just a sliver of Salizzar’s nightclub a block away.

Ian then took his focus from gazing out at the docks to looking all around the restaurant as he thought,
Zoey was right. There’s certainly a number of ‘regular folks’ in here, but there’s also a lot of …
Ian became distracted and lost his train of thought as he glanced across the table at Zoey, who was beautiful to him in so many ways. Ian had an epiphany then; he’d been a closet bigot all of his life. He silently vowed to make a genuine effort to stop judging people based on their looks, whether conventional or unconventional. And the most shameful self-realization of all, judging on race or sexual persuasion.

Ian had been, for the most part, one who believed in judging individuals by their merits. Ian was at the core a scientist with degrees in zoology, anthropology, and paleontology, a man who understood that intellectually, racial bigotry or any form of homophobia was totally illogical and absolutely unfounded. But he also knew that once in a great while, he had his bad moments regarding usually well-suppressed, preconditioned attitudes due primarily to his upbringing. Ian’s mother referred to most people of color in less than flattering vernacular, and touted heavily biased and prejudicially spun out of context biblical scripture regarding homosexuals. Ian thought of his mother for a moment.
Mom … She would have been the quintessential female version of Archie Bunker. What a loveable bigot she was.

Ian smiled slightly as he continued reflecting on how far he’d already come in his goal of trying to be a better person.
I can honestly say that besides Scout, my best male friend in the world is Charlie Redtail, a Native American, and he’s without a doubt in every way ... the most honorable man I’ve ever known.

“So what’s got you smiling?” Zoey asked as she glanced up from looking over her menu.

Ian shrugged his shoulders as he replied, “Oh, I was just thinking about personal growth and the paths our lives take us. And that I’m definitely a work in progress. But mainly that ... I’m just glad to be here with you.”

Zoey smiled big as she replied, “Well, that’s pretty heavy.” She giggled for a second before continuing, “But seriously, occasionally being introspective and taking stock of oneself is a good thing ... At least that’s what my uncle Clayton tells me ... a lot. Anyway, I’m happy to be here with you, too!” Ian marveled at Zoey’s word choice and wisdom as he silently mused,
There’s certainly more to this girl than meets the eye.

Zoey cleared her throat and continued. “Uh, um. Okay, you should take a peek at your menu. I’m pretty sure the waitress that keeps glancing over at us while waiting on other tables is gonna be with us soon.”

Ian didn’t reply but nodded his head in agreement as he picked up his menu and began studying it. After only seconds, he placed his menu back down on the table. Zoey did the same.

“Wow, that was quick. You know what you want?” Zoey asked as she stared into Ian’s eyes.

Ian replied, “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”

Zoey happily blurted out, “I’m gonna have their fettuccini alfredo
with scallops. Their fettuccini is awesome.”

Ian grinned and replied, “That does sounds good. But I think I’m going with a good ‘ole cheeseburger. The bleu cheese bacon burger
to be precise. I’ve been eating so much seafood lately, a change of pace sounds good to me.”

Zoey smiled then said, “It’s a good thing I’m a seafood nut ‘cause around these parts, well, when in Rome.”

Ian nodded slowly as he replied, “Yeah, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. When in Astoria … do as the … astronauts do?” Zoey and Ian both laughed.

“Hello. Happy Halloween. Welcome to the Soggy Dog.”
the waitress exclaimed as she approached their table. She was a young gal, obviously in her early twenties, cute and petite, with long, medium-brown hair with blonde-streaked highlights, pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing a black Soggy Dog
logo printed t-shirt and black, denim jeans. Ian noticed right away that she was wearing large earrings fashioned to look like Jack-o-lanterns, and an inverted bull-ring style septum nose piercing.

“My name’s Madison, and I’ll be your server. Can I get you started with a drink? Today, we’re featuring our galactically famous Indian Pale Ale for just $3.75 a pint.”

Zoey glanced at Ian and flashed him a smile while nodding. Ian smiled at their waitress. “Yes. I mean, that sounds perfect! We’ll both have the special, the Pale Ales. And I think we’ve already decided on what we want to order for food.”

Madison smiled as she replied, “Sure, great. Shoot.”

Ian looked at Zoey as he spoke. “Shall I order for us?” Zoey nodded.

He continued, “Okay, the lady will have your fettuccini alfredo with scallops, and I’m going to have your bleu cheese bacon burger.”

Madison asked, “How would you like your burger cooked?”

“Uh … medium well would be great.” Ian said with a smile.

Madison continued, “Can I bring you two some salads before your entrees?”

Ian looked over at Zoey, who was nodding. “Yeah. A couple of house salads sounds good. I’ll have the bleu cheese dressing.”

Ian glanced at Zoey, who spoke up, “I’d love a light vinaigrette.”

Madison smiled as she replied, “Perfect!” She turned to go place their food orders, but then paused and asked, “Say, will you guys be staying for the band, The Stilettos? They start at 9:00. I hear they’re really good. They’re a band from Cannon Beach. I just read their promo sheet. It says they play mostly R and B. If you’re already inside before 9:00, you won’t have to pay the ten dollar per person cover charge.”

Ian smiled at Madison, “Well, much as I … we … would like to, we’re committed to being elsewhere tonight ... just down the street, in fact.” He looked outside towards Salizzar’s.

Madison nervously looked around to see what ears might be listening. Satisfied that nobody could hear, she spoke very quietly, with an excited look on her face, “Are you guys going to The Morgue
tonight?” Ian raised his eyebrows before he sheepishly nodded.

Madison continued, “So am I. When I get off work at ten that is. I’m meeting two girlfriends there. I’ve never had the guts to go in there before. I mean, the stories ya hear about the place. But no way they could be true. The flyer that they’ve put all over town says they’ve got some Portland death metal
band playing there tonight. The band’s called Sons A Witches
.
Anyway, it should be fun. I’ll see you there.”

Madison turned and briskly went off to turn in their orders and get them their beers.

Ian looked over at Zoey, who was slowly shaking her head. Ian felt as though Zoey was reading his mind; she knew that he desperately wanted to tell their waitress to stay the hell away from that place, especially tonight. But Ian also knew that he couldn’t say anything of the sort. Not without potentially seriously jeopardizing, if not totally destroying their cover.

Ian looked at Zoey as he spoke. “I guess we need to make some kind of tentative plan for once we’re in the place tonight.”

“Yeah, at least some kind of plan would be good.”

Ian took a deep breath. Then all at once, his face took on a serious expression as he spoke. “Okay, here goes.”

Zoey scooted her chair closer to the table and leaned in towards Ian in response to his hand gesture to draw her nearer so he could speak in little more than a whisper.

Ian continued, “If Salizzar or any of his cronies are behind the recent murders and rash of missing persons, then there must be a reason for it beyond just a crazy lunatic serial killer doing it for some twisted sexual gratification or to get back at his mother for … Well, you know what I mean.” Zoey nodded.

Ian took another deep breath, exhaled, and once again continued to expound his theory and plan. “Salizzar is a guy who’s such an obvious prime suspect, he has got to be up to something much larger than any killer that kills simply for the thrill of it. And I mean something much larger than just running a nightclub for Goths and vampire role players to lure in victims to kill for sick kicks. I think he’s got a specific agenda. I think he’s in the – for lack of better description – the business of supplying blood and body organs through most likely an ultra-sophisticated black market network. I’ve even considered that he might be into white slavery, but due to the mounting body count, I think it’s even sicker and more twisted than that.”