Blue Twilight_[11] Read online

  She nodded. “Sounds insane. But it’s not. It’s real, Jay. When you and Stormy and I sneaked in there to check out the place, right after the fire, I found a CD. It was full of information, case histories of vampires. How old they were, who sired them, where they’d last been seen. Some had been captives in that place, used as guinea pigs for their research.”

  He shook his head. “You know, when I got that flyer, saw that you were investigating supernatural-type stuff, I thought—hell, I don’t know what I thought. Goth kids playing dress-up and drinking blood for kicks, I guess. Maybe a little ghost-busting on the side.” He sent her a brief, probing look. “But this stuff can’t be real, Max. I mean…vampires?”

  “I’ve met them. I’ve seen them. Hell, some of them are my friends.” She didn’t tell him one of them was her own sister. She might want to trust Jason, but wanting to trust wasn’t trust itself, and she knew Lou had a point in advising caution.

  “It’s hard to believe. What are they…what are they like?”

  She sent him a look, sensing more to his question than what rested on the surface. “Just like anyone else, I guess. Some are good, some are bad. Some are freaking insane.”

  He licked his lips. “But not just like anyone else. Not really. I mean, they’re different. Physically, right?”

  She tipped her head to one side. “They can’t go out in the daylight. They need blood to survive.”

  “What do they look like?”

  She fixed him with a steady gaze. “Why? You think you’ve seen one?”

  He laughed at that, but it was a nervous laugh. “No way. But I’d like to know if I did.”

  Max shrugged. “Paler than we are. Otherwise, not much different.”

  He nodded. “What about…powers?”

  “What about them?” She was none too comfortable discussing this with him, all of a sudden.

  “You know, the stuff you see in the movies. Changing into bats. Talking to people inside their heads.” He sent her a sideways glance. “Any of that for real?”

  She nodded slowly. “They’re pretty good at the mental conversations. I’ve heard some can shape-shift, but I’ve never seen it happen.”

  “Unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “So how do you kill them?”

  Max didn’t gasp, but it was close. She didn’t know how to answer, and while she was searching her mind, he went on.

  “Crucifixes? A wooden stake?”

  “It’s, um…it’s never come up.”

  “Do you think—” He stopped himself. “No. It’s crazy.”

  “Do I think what’s going on in this town is connected to the undead? That’s what you were going to ask, isn’t it, Jay?”

  He thinned his lips, nodded once.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think so, but now…hell, whoever broke into the house was after those files. That’s my gut feeling, anyway. And if they knew I was away, it might be because they knew I was here.” She paused, drew a breath, decided to plunge ahead. “I might be able to figure this out, Jason, if you would tell me everything.”

  He swung his head toward her fast. “What do you mean?”

  “Why all the questions about vampires? Do you have some reason to think one is involved in this?”

  “No. Of course not. I was curious. Hell, Max, it’s not every day you talk to someone who claims to have personal experience with something like that.”

  She sighed. “I think you’re holding something back, Jason. I think you know more than you’re saying.”

  He faced front again, his jawline seeming to harden. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “Including how you got those bruises?”

  He said nothing.

  “It wasn’t from a fall. Those came from a beating, Jay. Someone attacked you.”

  He licked his lips, nervous, trying hard not to appear to be. “All right. I was upset. I was in a bar asking the locals if they’d seen Delia, and I had a few too many. Ended up in a brawl. It was nothing.”

  “So why did you lie about it?”

  “I got my ass kicked. I was embarrassed, okay?”

  “And that’s all? There’s nothing else?”

  “There’s nothing else.”

  “Chief Fieldner had skinned-up knuckles, Jay. How do you explain that?”

  He slanted her a quick look. Barely missing a beat, he said, “He landed a few blows when he came to break up the fight. That’s all.”

  She sighed, certain she would get no more out of him, hoping that was because there was nothing more to get.

  Jason cleared his throat. “He’s strong, Max.”

  “Who is?” She frowned at him. “Chief Fieldner?”

  He nodded. “He looks scrawny. Like a scarecrow. But he’s strong. Almost…unnaturally strong.”

  It was a warning. She didn’t mistake it for anything else. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she told him.

  “Take a look at your cell phone,” he said. “See if there’s a signal. We’re getting close to Endover.”

  She took out the phone. “Three bars.” Then she watched the signal bars vanish, one by one. “Two,” she said. “One. Nothing. Damn.”

  “The motel’s a mile ahead. At least we know how far we have to drive to get a signal.”

  He had changed the subject, she realized, and wondered if it had been deliberate. “I’ll plug it in tonight, charge it up just in case.”

  He nodded. “So what do we do next?”

  “Research,” she said. “I want to know if anything like this has ever happened before. Maybe missing girls aren’t an unusual occurrence in Endover, New Hampshire.”

  It was close to midnight when someone pounded on her door. Max came awake with a start that set her heart hammering in her chest. Her first glance was at the clock. Her heart jumped, and fear sang in her veins. Then she heard Lou on the other side. “Open up, Maxie, it’s me.”

  Sighing in relief, she flipped on the light and slid out of bed, then padded to the door and undid the chain. When she flung it open, Lou looked at her. His eyes betrayed him, lowering to take her in from her bare toes up, and she smiled to herself, glad she was wearing nothing more than a baby-doll T-shirt that didn’t even cover her waist, and a pair of bikini panties.

  “You want to put on a robe or something?”

  “I didn’t bring a robe or something.”

  He closed his eyes, as if that were the only way he could stop looking at her, and when he opened them again and came the rest of the way inside, his gaze shot straight to the empty bed on the far side of the room. “Where’s Stormy?”

  “The couple next door left while we were gone. She took their room. Said she needed some space.” The truth, Max suspected, was that Stormy had only moved out to give Max some space—just in case things heated up with Lou. But she wasn’t about to tell Lou that.

  “I’m not altogether comfortable with her being alone.”

  “Neither was I,” Max said. But she pointed to the door in the wall, opposite the twin beds. “There’s a connecting door. I told her to leave it unlocked so I could check on her at will. It’s not even closed all the way, so I can hear her. She’s fine.”

  Lou nodded. “Good.”

  “So what’s up?”

  “Put on some pants, Max.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe any man finds the sight of a half-dressed female as upsetting as you do.”

  “Who said I found it upsetting?” he asked. “We’re going for a walk, and it’s chilly outside.”

  She frowned at him, then shrugged and turned to the suitcase that was sitting open on the dresser, tugged out a pair of jeans and pulled them on. She noticed that Lou didn’t turn away as she did. Well, that was progress, wasn’t it? She pulled the jeans up slowly, not slowly enough so he’d know it was deliberate, but slowly enough to turn him on—she hoped. It was cruel to tease him, but dammit, old habits were hard to break.

  She zipped, snapped, then stepped into her scuffy s
lippers. “Ready.”

  “Jacket,” he said.

  “Nah. I like to feel the night air on my skin.”

  He sighed but didn’t argue, just stood there in the open doorway waiting for her to join him outside. “Where are we going?”

  “Out here.” He walked her across the parking lot, toward the place where the motel’s grassy lawn met the pavement. There were a couple of picnic tables there, and he walked right up to one of them, took something out of his pocket and dropped it onto the redwood-stained surface.

  Max took a seat atop the table, picked the thing up. “What is it?”

  “It’s a bug.”

  Max looked up fast.

  “I found it in the phone in my room. Ten to one there’s one in yours, too.”

  “Jesus.” She reached out for the tiny electronic button, turned it in her fingers, then shot a look at Lou. “Is it still—”

  “No. It’s dead. But near as I could tell, it was working right up until I found it.”

  “God, Lou, how did you even know to check?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that extra click on the phone line when Jason spoke to us from the phone in his room. It sounded more like someone on an extension but…I don’t know, you get an instinct about shit like this after a while. Something told me to check, so I checked.” He shrugged. “We ought to go back—check your room. Storm’s and Jay’s, as well.”

  Sighing, she nodded. “Okay.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She looked up, caught him searching her eyes. “Nothing.”

  “Something is. This place is getting to you. The town. The missing girls. The goddamn eerie feeling that seems to permeate this freaking place.”

  She met his eyes. “You feel it, too?”

  “Yeah. I feel it. As if I’m walking around under an anesthesia cloud or something.”

  Max nodded hard. “It’s like my senses are dulling by degrees. I feel slow, heavy. It seems better when we’re outside of Endover, but then it comes right back as soon as we return. It’s subtle.”

  “Maybe we should do a little extra research. See if there’s any history of chemical pollution near here. Or radon or…hell, I don’t know. A natural gas leak?”

  “You’d smell natural gas, wouldn’t you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I do. And radon wouldn’t have any effect for years.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said. “What do you say tomorrow we drive a few miles away from Endover, find ourselves another place to stay?”

  “I don’t know. I feel like we need to be here, you know?”

  “Well, think it over, at least.”

  “Okay.” She slid off the picnic table, taking the listening device with her, and started walking back toward the parking lot and the motel.

  Lou was quick to catch up.

  “You were right before,” she said. “Something was bothering me, but it wasn’t this town. It wasn’t the case. It wasn’t the bad air in Endover.”

  She kept walking, right up to her motel room door, then stopped there to look at Lou. “I can see in your eyes that you already know what I’m going to say—and you’re praying I won’t say it.”

  He held her eyes for a long moment. “You promised you’d knock it off with this kind of shit, Max.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not making it easy. Not when you yank me into your arms the way you did tonight at the hospital, just as some kind of ruse.” She probed his eyes. “You know, for one insane moment, I thought you meant it. I thought you were going to kiss me.”

  He lowered his eyes, dodging the intensity in hers. Damn, he made her angry.

  “And then, when you came to my room just now—”

  “Jesus, Max, stop it already. We’re working a case together. Even if something was going to—this isn’t the time.”

  She nodded. “I know you’re right. But if you expect me to keep my end of the bargain, Lou, the least you can do is stop jerking me around like this.”

  “Jerking you—”

  “I almost get the feeling you’re enjoying it. Dangling the bait just to see if I’ll still jump.”

  Sighing, she turned from him, thrusting her key into the lock.

  Lou’s hands came to her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Max, I would never—please don’t think that’s what I’m doing. Hell, I wouldn’t even have thought…” He pushed a hand through his hair, maybe giving up on trying to express his confusion.

  “I know. You would never have thought you had it in you to hurt me. Because you’ve never once taken me or my feelings seriously.”

  “Max, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

  He looked as if he meant it. And maybe he did. Max turned the lock, opened the door. “But you did. And my feelings are serious. If you want me to keep them to myself, fine. I said I would do that, and I will. But you’ve got to do your share, too.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry. I mean it. I’m really sorry. I won’t…let it happen again. I promise. No more hugs or showing up at your door in the dead of night, okay?”

  She sighed deeply. No more hugs. Hell, that was the last thing she wanted to hear from him. “Just don’t hug me unless you mean it,” she said. She shrugged. “And until this case is over, I suppose you might have to show up at my door in the dead of night for reasons that have nothing to do with crawling into my bed, so we probably shouldn’t rule that out. Actually, let’s not rule out the alternative, either.” She let him off the hook with a smile over her shoulder as she stepped into her room.

  He seemed relieved. Maybe he really hadn’t been playing games with her feelings. Hell, how could he have been? He’d never believed for a minute she had any real feelings for him. He’d always chalked her behavior up to a flirtatious nature, blithely refusing to notice that she didn’t flirt with any other man but him.

  He came into the room and walked past her to the bedside stand, picked up the telephone handset, removed the mouthpiece and neatly plucked another listening device from amid the tangled nest of bright-colored wires inside.

  She opened her mouth, but he held a finger up to his, then flipped the back off the tiny button-shaped bug, did something to its innards, then snapped the back on again. “Safe now. Unless there are others.”

  She looked around the room, suddenly feeling exposed, watched, as if a hundred unseen eyes were looking in on her. She rubbed her arms against the chill that feeling evoked. “I’ll never be able to sleep in here.”

  “Yeah, you will,” Lou said. And then he began searching. He started on one wall and checked every surface, every baseboard, the curtains and the rods that held them, the window casing. He worked his way around the room, even running his hands over the carpet to check for lumps, and using a pocket knife as a screwdriver to remove the switch plates and plug covers to check behind them. He searched the closets, removed the dresser drawers, took the clock radio apart. He checked the bathroom, the faucets and light fixtures. He left the bed for last, stripping it bare, then lifting the mattress to check under it, before searching the area under the bed itself.

  Finally he nodded, satisfied. “It’s okay. The only bug was in the phone. The room is clean.”

  “Odd choice of words,” she said. She stood in the center, hands on her hips, surveying the mess he’d made.

  Lou slid the mattress back into place, then began putting on the sheets, making the bed. Max picked up the drawers and slid them back into their places.

  “So what about the other rooms?”

  “We’ll check them tomorrow. No sense waking everyone.”

  “How could anyone have known we were coming, Lou? Much less which rooms we’d be in?”

  He shook his head. “If Jason’s phone is bugged, and he phoned us from that room, then someone—whoever is listening—might have known we were coming. But why was his phone bugged in the first place?”

  Max frowned. “Maybe every room in the motel is bugged.”
She lifted her head and eyebrows. “And there’s no cell phone reception around here. Lou, maybe that’s no coincidence. And maybe it’s not us—maybe someone is keeping close tabs on all visitors to this town.”

  Lou narrowed his eyes as if in thought, but then shook his head. “That wouldn’t make any sense, Max.”

  “None of this makes any sense, Lou.” She shook her own head slowly. “I’m going to bed. Either come with me, or go back to your own room.”

  He shot her a look.

  Max shrugged and sent him back a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

  He sighed and turned to walk toward the door. She said, “Lou?”

  “Yeah?” His hand was on the knob.

  “What happened between you and your wife?”

  Lou went still. He lifted his head and turned back toward her very slowly. “I think I told you already, didn’t I?”

  “You said you were a lousy husband. That didn’t really tell me a thing.”

  He sighed, lowering his head. “Hell, maybe you need to hear it. Maybe that’ll—” He stopped there, lifted his head again, met her eyes, and then slowly came back across the room.

  Max thought that he was going to talk to her—really talk to her. She hoped it, at least. She quickly climbed onto the bed he’d made so neatly, her back to the head-board, legs curled beneath her, and she patted a spot beside her.

  Lou didn’t even argue. He sat, but only on the edge of the mattress, his feet remaining on the floor. “We had a kid, you know.”

  Max felt her jaw drop.

  “A boy.”

  “Jesus, Lou, how the hell did you manage to forget to mention that in all the time we’ve known each other?”

  He shrugged. His broad back was toward her. She wanted to turn him, to see his face. “It’s not something I talk about. He, uh…he was only with us for three years.”

  11

  Max’s heart twisted hard and tight. She slid across the bed until she sat beside him, legs still under her, one hand on his shoulder. “He…died?”

  Lou nodded. “Leukemia.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t handle it. I was no good to anyone, not my wife, not myself. I threw myself into my work. She fell apart. She wanted another child. I couldn’t even bear the thought of going through what we’d gone through with Jimmy again. So she found someone else. End of story.”