The Merzetti Effect (A Vampire Romance) (42 page)

Satisfied, she trekked the short distance back to her car. Just one more task and she could go back to her hotel and catch a few hours sleep. Stashing her equipment in the trunk of the rental, she walked half a block to Queen Street and found a payphone. She located the general number for the St. Cloud Police Department, plugged a quarter into the phone and dialed it.

When the receptionist answered, Sam instructed the woman to put her through to Chief Michaels, employing the tone she’d learned in her first year in business-for-self. The trick to obtaining cooperation was not to demand it, but rather to simply take that cooperation for granted. Faced with such easy, inherent authority, most people gave her exactly what she expected. The St. Cloud PD receptionist was no exception.

The phone rang twice in Michaels’ office before it was answered. “Chief Michaels,” a voice clipped. “Who am I talking to?”

“Good afternoon, Chief. I’m a reporter for‌—”

“Whoa. You can stop right there, lady. We have a communications officer who handles press inquiries. Call the switchboard again and they’ll route you‌—”

“You had a visitor last night. Is that right, Chief Michaels?”

A pause. “I’m going to transfer you to my personal line. Please hang on.”

She heard him make the transfer. Before his personal phone could manage a full ring burst, he’d picked it up.

“Dammit, what more do you people want from me?”

You people?

“I’m sorry,” he said, rushing to fill the silence. “I’m just a little tense. The moving company is there right now, packing up my belongings. I’ll be out by nightfall, just like I said.”

Sam blinked, listening to his ragged breathing. What the devil was he talking about? Channeling that voice of authority again, she went fishing:  “Very good. And the rest?”

“I won’t hurt her again, I swear it. I won’t even make contact. She can move back tomorrow. I’ll give her a divorce, full custody of Devon, the house … whatever she wants.”

Holy crap! What had she stumbled into?

“Hello? Hello?” The chief’s voice rose on a note of panic. “Are you still there?”

“Relax, Chief. I’m still listening.”

“You have to believe me! I’ll never lay a hand on Lucy again. On either of them. God, I won’t even breathe in their direction. You’ll see. You can watch me as closely as you like.”

He’d been abusing his family?
Bastard
. “You can bet we’ll be watching,” she said in her silkiest voice. “Need I tell you what we think of recidivists?”

“No, ma’am. I’m sorry. Jesus … my ulcer. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

The line went dead. Slowly, Sam hung up the receiver. Well, well, wasn’t that interesting? Chief Michaels’ late-night visitor had been a friend of Mrs. Michaels. And a very persuasive one, by all appearances. What could he possibly have said or done to reduce the chief of police to the jabbering wreck she’d just talked to?

She thought about the photos back in her hotel room and the peculiar energy that had emanated from Michaels’ caller, and decided he was probably quite capable of decimating stronger men.

No matter. It was none of her concern. Michaels was still alive and well, and presumably newly embarked on the straight and narrow.

But who was the mystery caller? The estranged wife’s new boyfriend? Hired muscle? Some vigilante out to avenge victims of violence? Random whack-job?

Well, she wasn’t going to solve that mystery here, standing in a phone booth.

Correction‌—‌she wasn’t going to solve that mystery at all.

Stepping out of the phone booth, she headed for her rental and the promise of a nap back at her hotel room. She had to be fresh, had to focus on tonight. Whatever the reason she’d been called to St. Cloud, it would all become clear tonight.