Red Tide: The Flavel House Horror / Vampires of the Morgue (The Ian McDermott, Ph.D., Paranormal Investigator Series Book 2) (21 page)

Ian walked over to the steel drawers and put his hand on one. It was extremely cold to the touch. He realized instantly that they were in fact refrigerated. The genuine article.

All along the sides of the room were what looked to be genuine gurneys and antique I.V. glass bottles with surgical-style rubber tubing attached, as well as various machines that appeared to have been devised for the purpose of voiding a human body of all blood in preparation for a quid pro quo infusion of formaldehyde, commonly known as … embalming.

On its eastern wall, the mortuary room had a slightly smaller bar than the main room of the club. Located on the river side of the room was a stage that was being used to its capacity by the heaviest metal-looking group of musicians that Ian had ever seen. The entire middle of the room was comprised of a very large dance floor that was nearly packed with young twenty-something, vampiric-stylized and Gothic-attired raving party revelers.

The intense high-decibel level that the band and its scream-singing lead vocalist had achieved reached far beyond Ian’s ability to tolerate what he considered to be nothing more than head-banging, hate-mongering, sweat-slinging, helter-skelter rabid noise rather than any semblance of what could be called music, regardless of its being labeled
death metal or otherwise.

Zoey had already finished her drink. Upon noticing that, Ian quickly guzzled the remainder of his. He then took their empty glasses and set them on the nearest corner of the bar.

Ian considered for a second what it would probably look like to the surrounding crowd.
Old man can’t take the music.
But at this point, it no longer mattered. Ian cupped his hands over his ears as he returned to Zoey’s side.

Zoey noticed immediately that Ian was suffering severe decibel overload. She smiled at him and pointed towards the corridor from which they’d entered into the room, clearly indicating that she wanted to leave the band room. Ian knew that her decision to leave the room was mainly due to his distress and not her own.

Once they were back near the restrooms, Ian motioned to Zoey that he was going into the men’s room. “I’m gonna go back to our table.” Zoey nearly shouted. Ian smiled and nodded.

Almost shouting, Ian replied, “Wow, I never guessed it would be this loud.”

Zoey smiled as she actually yelled, “Yeah, this is insane.” Hearing Zoey say that made Ian feel not quite so ancient.

Before Ian and Zoey parted, he spoke nearly as loudly as he could, “Hey, order us a couple more drinks if ya don’t mind.” Ian handed Zoey a fifty. “That waiter … He never asked for any money for the last round, so we must have a tab going. But just in case, here’s some money for what we owe and …”

Zoey smiled large and nodded. She then turned and headed through the archway corridor back towards the main room.

The men’s room door flung open, and a young man and a young woman came bounding out. Ian entered without having to touch the door. The restroom was admittedly beautiful. It had marble floors as opposed to the refinished hardwood flooring throughout the rest of the nightclub which well supported the club’s castle-like motif.

The restroom’s sinks and faucets were brass. It was packed nearly beyond capacity with heavily made-up and vampiric-costumed young men and very attractive young women.

Ian thought as he looked around the bathroom,
Some of these supposed women are likely she-males. But I swear they could pass anyone’s discernment short of a full body search.

There were no independent urinals, just one continuous brass troth that Ian estimated was around twelve feet long. It was slightly sloped from both directions and had running water streaming into it, causing all deposited urine to flow to the center and rapidly drain away.

Ian opted to check out and use one of the restroom’s six fully-private toilet stalls. He zigzagged past a number of people of varying sexual persuasions and made his way over to the center stall. Ian noticed its door was not locked because it did not display the small occupied sign that the door was devised to display. Even still, Ian decided that he’d better knock to be safe. He loudly rap-tapped on the door with the knuckles of his right fist. Nobody answered, so Ian pushed the door; it swung open but only to reveal that the room was in fact occupied by a man who was sitting on the toilet and a woman who was sitting on top of him. She was facing him with her skirt hiked up to her waist, revealing her very shapely, naked hind-side. Neither of them had heard Ian’s knocking on the door due to the ambient noise and their feverishly-engrossing activities.

The woman was moaning loudly and uttering very convincing sounds of genuine ecstasy while performing what to Ian appeared to be perfectly-timed rhythmic pelvic thrusts ... simultaneously bouncing her body up and down on the man’s phallus like she was skillfully bareback riding a wild stallion.

Ian backed away from the bathroom stall a little ashamed. He realized that he had lingered watching the couple a few seconds longer than was appropriate by any civilized standards. He closed the stall door, took a deep breath, and went over to the stall on the immediate left. It was occupied, so he went further down the line until he spotted another one that indicated it was vacant.

Ian knocked louder on this door than he’d knocked on the other. Two seconds after he knocked, a young man came semi-staggering out of the stall. He had white powder residue under his nose, which came as no surprise to Ian. Street drugs of every kind abounded in the place. Cocaine and ecstasy were easier to procure than paper towels, as patrons huddled in groups around the sinks of the restroom-slash-pharmacy. Ian couldn’t help but think,
You’d think the police could get this place shut down just for the rampant drugs if nothing else. But I guess in the vernacular of the locals – they’ve got bigger fish to fry.

Once inside the restroom stall, Ian immediately locked the door. He then proceeded to relieve himself. Once he’d finished with his nature call, he began tapping on the wall behind the bathroom stall. Ian continued examining the seams of the wall for several minutes, though he couldn’t find any type of obvious irregularity or apparent removable panel. He did notice that the wall seemed very thin, and he thought it might have had an unusually hollow sound when he tapped it hard. But due to the noise in the restroom, he couldn’t be certain if there was anything out of the ordinary about it or not. The floor appeared to be seamlessly solid.

Ian exited the stall and made his way past a number of people over to a sink. He washed his hands and dried them under a hand blower, then left the bathroom and headed back to rejoin Zoey.

Once at the table, the room that had initially seemed horribly loud to Ian didn’t seem so bad. He realized that he was rapidly adjusting to the volume but wondered if that was necessarily a good thing.

The drinks Zoey had ordered for them had already arrived. Zoey had already drank around a third of her drink. Ian picked up his glass and began taking small pulls from it as he once again began panning his eyes around the room.

Zoey spoke, “I paid for all of our drinks. The ones from before and these. I figured if we need to make any fast moves, that would be out of the way.”

Ian smiled and nodded his approval as he replied, “Smart. Good thinking!”

Zoey winked at Ian for his compliment. She then pointed to the money the waiter had brought her back as change for the fifty she’d handed him. Ian picked up the paper money, leaving the coinage, and stuffed the bills into his wallet minus a five dollar bill that he left lying there.

Zoey spoke, “I already gave the guy a good tip.”

Ian raised his eyebrows, grinned, and retrieved the five dollar bill and stuffed it into his pocket.

Ian checked the time via his cell phone. It was a little after eleven. Before Ian put his cell phone back into his front black denim jeans pocket, it began vibrating. Ian checked it again. Its screen notified him that he’d just received a text message.

Ian glanced up from his phone at Zoey for a few seconds. It appeared to him that she was panning her eyes around the room in every direction, likely looking for anything that might appear out of the ordinary.

Ian looked back at his phone and began checking his message. It was from Ned.

Just got here. I’m with FBI Special Agent Alisha Simmons. She’s a hot-looking black gal. We look like we belong in a fucking Napoleon period Frenchy movie. Her idea. I thought I saw you in the band room minutes ago. We’re now near the main bar. Come find us. Erase this message now.

Ian understood about erasing the message; in case his phone was to wind up in the wrong hands, it would blow Ned and Agent Simmons’ cover and potentially put them all in greater danger than they might already be in.

Ian erased Ned’s message. He then looked over at Zoey and motioned for her to lean over the small table to get as close to him as she could. When she did so, Ian spoke as loudly to her as he dared, “Ned’s here. And he’s with some lady FBI agent. They want me to head over to the bar so we can talk. I think we should go over to them together. Once we meet up with them, we should maybe look like we’re all old friends. What do ya think?”

Zoey took no time to think about what Ian suggested, agreeing right away. “Sounds good. Let’s go.” She obviously didn’t want to be left alone any more than absolutely necessary.

Ian and Zoey both quickly finished their drinks and began making their way through the crowded room over to the main bar. Once close to the bar, Ian spotted Ned and the FBI agent right away. Ned’s description of how they were dressed, though crude, was spot-on. They were both dressed like attendees of a 1700’s French Cotillion masquerade party with elaborate period costumes, wigs, hand-held masks, and all.

Ian walked up behind Ned, who was leaning against the bar attempting to look like he was making small talk with his date. Ian noticed immediately that Ned was spot-on about something else as well. Agent Simmons was very attractive indeed.

Ian tapped on Ned’s shoulder. Ned somewhat overreacted as he jerked around to face Ian.

“Fuck me, Ian.” Ned grabbed at his heart. “Ya didn’t have to … Christ, ya nearly scared the hell out of me.”

Due to the location of the main bar, which was directly behind a wall that separated them from the smaller bar in the band room, this was the least loud place in the entire club. But due to the music and the size of the crowd, it was still LOUD.

“Ian. Zoey. Allow me to introduce my friend Alisha.” Ian, Zoey, and Alisha all smiled and nodded cordially in response to Ned’s simple introduction, not wanting to go overboard with handshakes and such and draw much attention.

Ned then positioned himself close to Ian and began speaking into Ian’s left ear just loud enough to be heard.

“The chief told me to tell you to stop your investigation at once since the Feds are actively in on this now.” Ian stepped away from Ned for a second – he was a bit taken aback by what Ned just told him, but said nothing.

Ned leaned in to speak into Ian’s ear once again. “That said, I personally think you can be very valuable to me and Agent Alisha here. And she concurs. So if you’re still game, I’d like you and your partner there …” Ned glanced over and flashed a charming smile at Zoey, “to continue on regardless of what the chief said. For reasons I can’t explain, at least not now, I’d … we’d like you to stick with us on this but just for tonight. Come tomorrow, you’re cut loose. You okay with that? If not, I totally understand. But if no, I insist that you grab your lady friend and the both of you just turn around and get the hell out of here and don’t look back.”

Ian thought about it for a couple of long, silent seconds. He then looked intensely into Ned’s eyes. With equal intensity, he looked over at Agent Simmons. She said nothing but nodded twice, clearly signaling her agreement with Ned.

Ian felt he’d come too far to not see this thing through at least regarding tonight. He took a deep breath and sighed as he exhaled. Ian then slowly, inconspicuously nodded his head.

Ned motioned for Ian to once again lean towards him so he could speak into his ear. Ian complied.

“Okay. This is how we’re gonna play it. I believe we’re gonna have a warrant to search this place and the Flavel House by mid-morning tomorrow as soon as the judge is in. But until then, I want to see for myself if that warrant’s gonna be worth the effort to convince a judge to issue. Hopefully a judge that Salizzar doesn’t already have in his pocket.”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, I could see how that’d be tough with this guy.”

Ned interjected, “Good! Then here’s the plan that Agent Simmons and I cooked up. She’s gonna join your gal, Zoey. You guys got a table?”

Ian replied, “Yeah, we’ve got one across the room. At least that’s where our coats are parked. I hope it hasn’t been taken.

“Good!” Ned said. He continued, “All right. In about an hour, Alisha will go over to join you guys at your table. She’ll hang there for a while, appearing to be making chit-chat. At that time, you’re gonna leave and rendezvous with me outside over on the south side of this place. You and I are gonna get into that basement from a side door near the back of the place. Almost no lighting on that side of the warehouse. It’s good and dark. It should be pretty easy to avoid being seen.”

Ian knew that besides the suspended basement that he and Zoey had entered into yesterday, there was a side door towards the river end of the warehouse on the dock level. But he had seen for himself that the door was locked, secured well by an extra heavy-duty hasp and very large padlock.