Thirst No. 4 (7 page)

“It’s our understanding that Matt wasn’t here when you ordered room service?” Treach asks.

“That’s correct. I was alone and starving. But the room service guy never showed up.”

“Do you mean Ken?” Treach asks.

“Yes.”

“Did you call to complain?”

“No. I was about to but then they called me.”

“Was that Michael Pollak? The head of room service?”

“I don’t know his title. He said his name was Mike.”

“Why did he call you?”

“He was looking for his server.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I hadn’t seen any food or server.”

Treach consults his notes. “Mike says that you identified
Ken by name even while you were insisting that Ken had failed to deliver your order.”

“That’s true. I called the guy Ken right after Mike called him Ken.”

“Mike says he never mentioned Ken by name. Not until you did.”

“He did so the second he got on the phone. But I don’t think he’s lying. I think he just forgot.”

“That happens,” Astor adds for my benefit.

“Why do you say that?” Treach presses.

I shrug. “When I spoke to Mike, he seemed like a nice guy. I think he was just worried about his employee. Is he still missing?”

“That’s why we’re here. Ms. Raine, Teri, are you absolutely certain Ken didn’t come to your door? Is it possible you were in the restroom and he knocked and left because you failed to answer?”

“It’s possible. I think I went to the bathroom at some point while I was waiting for my food. But I wasn’t in there very long.”

Treach makes another note. “What did you do after you spoke to room service?”

The way he asks his question, I realize Treach has something up his sleeve. It must be the family I ran into on the elevator. He’s probably talked to them. I’ll have to admit to leaving the hotel, which I hate to do. It looks odd.

“Well, I was still hungry so I went out to get a bite.”

“Where did you go?”

“I don’t know, somewhere local. A deli a few blocks from here.”

“Do you remember the name of it?”

“No.”

“Was it two blocks from here? Or three or four?”

“I’m not sure. It could have been as many as five or six blocks away. I don’t know the area. I just went walking.”

“How come you didn’t eat at the hotel?”

“Well, as far as I could tell, their service wasn’t very good.”

“How did you pay for your meal?”

“With cash.”

“Do you do that often?”

“What? Eat?”

“Pay for your dinner with cash. Most people use a card these days.”

“I had some cash on me and I just bought a sandwich so I used it.”

“I try to use cash when I can,” Astor says.

Treach gives him a hard look before he continues, and I realize I’ve underestimated the detective. He’s experienced and my story does not ring true to his ears. The more we talk, the greater his suspicions grow. I wish he was alone and I could try using the hypnotic power of my eyes on him. Unsure of my abilities, I don’t dare try it with both of them
in the room. I realize that I have to end the interrogation soon.

“Teri, when you were leaving the hotel, you ran into a family that’s staying here. They said they tried to talk to you but you were rude to them. They also said—”

“I wasn’t rude.” I interrupt. “They thought I worked for the hotel and kept asking me directions to the Pepsi Center. Even after I explained that I didn’t know the area, they kept bugging me, especially the wife.”

“The husband and the wife said you had a room service cart with you. Is that true?”

“Why would I be walking around with a room service cart? It was in the elevator when I stepped inside. I had nothing to do with it.”

“The couple’s youngest boy thought he saw a man’s body stuffed beneath the cart.”

I stare at Treach. “You’ve got to be joking.”

The man shrugs. “It’s what the boy told us.”

I laugh softly. “That’s cute. I mean, it would be cute if Ken wasn’t missing. But no, Detective Treach, I can assure you I didn’t kill Ken after he delivered my steak to my room. And I certainly didn’t stuff his body in a room service cart.”

“It’s not like any of us really believe that,” Astor says.

I smile. “Well, that’s a relief.”

“Did you get out of the elevator with the family?” Treach asks.

“I waited until they left. Then I got off.”

“Why did you wait?”

“I think I already explained why. They kept asking me questions I couldn’t answer. And the wife seemed to get mad I couldn’t answer them.”

“Did you by any chance ride the elevator down to the garage?”

“No.”

“The Johnsons said you remained in the elevator,” Treach says.

“Who are the Johnsons?”

“The family you bumped into.”

“I’m sorry, they didn’t introduce themselves. No, I didn’t stay in the elevator. I got off at the lobby. But I waited a minute until the Johnsons left the area.”

“I would have done the same thing,” Astor says.

“Lieutenant,” Treach says, annoyed.

Astor is not quite the puppy dog he appears. “With all due respect, I think Ms. Raine has explained her actions extremely well. I believe her.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“I’m not saying I don’t,” Treach continues. “I just have a few more questions and I’ll be done. Would that be okay, Teri?”

“Sure. I know you have a job to do.”

“The reason I ask about the garage is because a Camry was stolen from the lower level about the same time Ken went
missing. Furthermore, the cart Ken took to your room was found abandoned beside the parking spot where the Camry was parked.”

I nod, act interested. “That sounds like an important clue. How do you know the cart belonged to Ken?”

“We found samples of his hair attached to the cart tablecloth.”

“Wow. That’s kind of scary. Maybe the boy was right. Maybe we were all standing together in that elevator and his body was crammed inside the cart.”

Astor shakes his head. “It’s doubtful. Ken’s a big guy. To squeeze him into that kind of space, it would take an awfully strong person.”

“But the scenario is not out of the question,” Treach says.

“I know this is none of my business, but have you guys managed to locate the Camry?” I ask. I worry about them finding samples of hair on the driver’s seat.

Treach shakes his head. “It’s disappeared.”

He’s lying! Damn, they found the car already. His people are probably going over it with a fine-tooth comb as we speak. I assumed I would have had more time to get out of town.

“That’s too bad,” I say casually.

Treach appears to have run out of questions. He gives me his card and heads for the door. But he suddenly stops and faces me and there’s no mistaking the suspicion in his voice and expression.

“Will you be staying in Denver the next few days?” he asks.

“We plan to leave tomorrow,” I say.

“Where are you headed?”

“Nowhere in particular. We’re just going to get in the car and drive.”

“So you do have a car?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a rental or does it belong to you?”

“It’s a rental. Matt got it at the airport.”

Treach nods. “Please, Teri, before leaving, let us know where you’re heading next.”

I give him a cold smile. “I’ll try.”

When they’re gone, I feel like I need a nap, or at least to lie down and rest. It’s clear to me that I’ve made an enemy, and that Treach is going to dog my steps in the coming days. True, I don’t possess my usual power, but deep inside I’m still ancient Sita. I still have a pretty sharp intuition and it’s telling me my best bet is to kill him.

I need to drink. I’m not feeling psycho or anything but my thirst is starting to aggravate me. It’s probably one of the reasons I was so short with the police.

I call an old private-eye friend of mine who is up in years and hard of hearing so he doesn’t notice anything odd about my change of voice. I ask him to get me Lieutenant William Treach’s personal information and the PI calls back within the hour with the cop’s home address and other assorted details.

Matt told me before leaving that afternoon that he would help me hunt that evening but I’m in no mood to wait for his return. Also, I want to make it clear that I don’t need his help. Otherwise, he’ll try to stop me from going off with the others when they travel to the Bay Area. I leave him a brief note saying I’ve gone out and not to worry.

Matt’s rented me a car and I drive to Lieutenant Treach’s neighborhood and park two houses down from his residence. The sun has recently set and the shadows are lengthening. Rolling down the window, I sit quietly with my eyes closed. Before entering Teri’s body, my hearing was my most potent sense, the one tool I could always rely on when things got tough. Although Teri’s ears are not nearly as keen as my originals, I’m relieved that I’m able to hear what’s going on in the Treach household.

Treach is not home yet. I listen as Mrs. Sandra Treach talks on the phone with her sister in New York. From the conversation I’m able to discern that Sandy, as her sister calls her, is the head of surgery at a nearby hospital. This interests me because surgeons often do transfusions during operations, and the head of the department would probably have relatively easy access to the clinic’s blood bank.

From experience I know about blood banks and the quality of blood that can be found in such places. In the past, for the most part, I’ve stayed away from that source of nourishment. It’s not merely the components of blood that feed a vampire, but the life essence itself in the blood.

What this essence is would be difficult to describe scientifically. In the West, they don’t have words for it. A Chinese acupuncturist might call it
chi
. A yogi from India would refer to it as
prana
. Whatever it is, it exists, and blood that has been stored for several weeks usually has a low charge. However, it is better than nothing and if I can get ahold of a few gallons it could save me a lot of grief while we travel to California. I hate the thought of constantly having to put my life on hold to satisfy my thirst.

I decide to strike now while William is out. But I wait until Sandy finishes talking with her sister. I don’t want to be waved away at the door because she’s on the phone. Leaving my car, approaching the house, I listen as Sandy fiddles with an assortment of pots and pans. This venture is something of a test for me. Finally I’m going to see how much of my psychic abilities I have left.

Sandy answers quickly, after I ring the doorbell. Like her husband, she’s about forty, tall and slender, but there the resemblance ends. The woman has bright red hair—it is close to orange—and wonderful green eyes. They sparkle; she is the kind of person that glows. And here I expected to find a stuffy old doctor.

“Hello. Can I help you?” she asks.

“Hi. My name’s Teri Raine. I met your husband today. He came to the hotel where I’m staying. He’s investigating a missing employee there.”

“Teri, yes, I know who you are. Bill called me after he spoke
to you. He said you were delightful. You were in the Olympics, weren’t you?”

“That seems to be my main claim to fame.”

“Well, of course, you won a gold medal and set a world record. How many women your age can say that?”

“Not many, I suppose. Look, I know it must seem kind of weird to stop by your house, but I was sort of short with your husband today and I wanted to talk to him about something I remembered from when that guy vanished. Would he be home by any chance?”

“He’s not here right now but I can give him a call. Would you like to come in a sec? I’m just starting dinner.” She opens the door wider and gestures for me to enter.

“That would be great, thanks,” I say as I cross the threshold. The home is three stories tall, custom designed, with lots of open wood beams. I assume it’s Sandy’s salary that paid for the place. The woman bubbles with energy. I follow as she leads me into the living room and offers me a seat. Once again, I’m not surprised she trusted me enough to invite me into her home. Teri’s fame and her wholesome looks work wonders with complete strangers.

Yet the inevitable question quickly comes up. Sandy wants to know how I happen to know where her husband lives. I’m sitting across from her when she asks and I catch her gaze and let my power flow through my eyes.

“Bill gave me your address,” I say softly. “He told me to
contact him if I remembered anything about the missing young man.”

Sandy stares back without blinking, and I know I have her to some extent. Yet it is all a question of degrees. I need to start with small orders and lies and work my way up.

“Bill is puzzled about the missing boy,” Sandy whispers.

“The case is puzzling. But I’m here to help Bill.”

Sandy smiles faintly. “That’s good you can help.”

“I want to help because I’m a good person.” Although I channel the energy through my eyes, I experience its source as a magnetism that radiates from my forehead. It projects out from me like an invisible hand. My grip on Sandy is not nearly as firm as it would have been in my old body, but I’m pleased that she’s repeating what I feed her.

“You are a good person,” she says. “Can I get you something to eat? To drink?”

“Soon. Tell me, when will Bill come home?”

Sandy blinks and frowns, not a good sign. “He’ll be home soon. But he’ll wonder why you’re here.”

“I’m here because Bill invited me here.”

“Oh.”

“When you say he’ll be here soon, how soon do you mean?”

“I’m not sure. In a half hour.”

“Good, that’s good. Now close your eyes, Sandy.” She immediately shuts her eyes as I continue. “Listen to the sound of my voice. My voice is all you hear. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You work at Springfield Hospital. You’re a surgeon there. In fact, you’re the head of the surgery department.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have access to the blood bank at your hospital?”

The woman frowns again and I fear I’ve made my question more complicated than it needs to be. Of course, as a surgeon, she would not get the blood herself.