Aggie seemed to think that Crowbones had appeared because they had given some offense, had done something to warrant that harsh attention. Something he needed to talk over tonight with Julian and Ilya—and Stavros Sanguinati.
Osgood stepped into the break room’s doorway. “Chief? Paige and Dominique Xavier need to see you.”
“About?”
“The storefront that is supposed to be a flea market? They went in to look around, and they think something is wrong over there.”
He’d meant to give them some petty cash and ask them to look inside that store but hadn’t had the time. Sounded like the place was bumped up to a priority.
Grimshaw folded the map and put all the e-mails and reports into a file folder before taking them back to his desk and tucking them in a drawer. Then he smiled at the two young women. His smile faded when they didn’t smile back. For a Xavier not to respond was cause for concern. “Something you want to tell me?”
Paige looked at Dominique, who nodded.
“Our guests are getting a little stir-crazy because they’re bored and have no appreciation that being bored is better than being eaten,” Paige said.
“And they’re making us feel a little crazy too,” Dominique added.
Not what he wanted to hear. The only thing worse than hearing a Xavier say she felt a little crazy was hearing Vicki DeVine say those words.
“So, you went to the new flea market?” he prompted.
“Ineke asked us to check it out before she suggested it to our guests as something to do,” Paige said. “We think it’s a front for something. For one thing, it’s too dirty to attract customers.”
Dominique gave a dramatic little shudder. “The place smells ripe.”
“That was three of the guys who were hanging out there. I don’t think they understand that body odor is not a natural cologne,” Paige said.
“What did they look like?” he asked.
The descriptions matched three of the teenagers who had strutted up to The Jumble on Trickster Night. He glanced at Osgood and received a nod. His officer recognized those boys too. Which meant Tom Saulner, the one he’d dubbed Hatchet Head because of the Trickster Night costume, was still missing.
“The fourth one, the one who seems to be working there . . . We think he’s a Crow,” Paige said.
“Dark eyes, black hair—he kept trying to smooth the hair over a couple of feathers—and delicate build,” Dominique added. “Like Eddie Crowgard.”
Grimshaw nodded. The Crows working for Vicki all had that delicate build, unlike lean and sturdy Cougar or big-boned, and hairy, Conan. “Anything else?”
Paige and Dominique looked at each other, then nodded. Paige said, “Under the body odor, the place smelled like something had died in it.”
Newspapers call that burying the lede, Grimshaw thought as he quietly unlocked the drawer where he stored his service weapon and duty belt. “Did anyone pay attention to you when you left? Could they know you stopped into the station?”
Dominique nodded. “One of the smelly boys came outside and watched us, but we went further up the street and then doubled back after he went inside the store.”
Grimshaw looked at Osgood. “Call Julian. Tell him to come over.”
While Osgood made the call to Lettuce Reed, Grimshaw made his own call. “Ilya? We may have a situation. I need you as fast as you can get here.” He ended the call and looked at the Xaviers. “You need to stay here. Call Ineke and tell her you’ll be delayed getting back to the boardinghouse.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if—,” Paige began.
“No.” He turned to Viktor, who had remained at the computer desk, watching and listening. “When Osgood and I leave, you lock the door and don’t let anyone in until we get back. Anyone. And if anything comes in that can’t be stopped by a locked door, all three of you get out and holler for help. You understand?”
“What about Professor Roash?” Viktor asked. “Should I open the cell door if we have to escape?”
If something was coming for Roash, Viktor couldn’t do anything to stop it. “If there is trouble and you three need to leave, sounding the alarm is the best way to protect Roash.”
“If Ilya is with you, who’s going to answer?” Viktor asked, sounding like a scared young cop who had been left to guard the station and the civilians inside. Which, essentially, was what he was.
“Someone will answer,” Grimshaw replied. He just wasn’t sure who it would be.
CHAPTER 71
Earthday, Novembros 4
Did she track by scent or some special sense? He didn’t know, but he followed her down the lane that ran between the backs of business buildings with their parking lots on one side and resident garages on the other. He followed her, except . . .
It was daylight, and daylight meant he was easily seen. He didn’t like being seen. He didn’t like seeing how others reacted to what he was now. So much easier to hide in the dark.
But she had followed the tracks of an enemy to this place, so he was here too.
She studied the back of a building. A wide strip of grass separated the parking lot of that building from its neighboring lot. The next lot was behind a chest-high wooden fence.
<Foulness inside,> she said. <Wrongness.> Her hand brushed against his arm, the merest touch. <Stay here.>
She moved away, not toward the building with the foulness but toward the lot that had the wooden fence.
He lost sight of her. His brain . . . blinked . . . and for a moment he panicked, not sure where he was—or why.
Then he heard quiet footsteps, saw men coming up the lane. Saw them step into the parking lot behind the building with the wrongness.
And he recognized one of them. Remembered one of them.
It was daylight. He would be seen, maybe captured. And yet . . .
Had to give a warning. Because he remembered one of them, he had to give a warning.
CHAPTER 72
Ilya
Earthday, Novembros 4
Ilya got out of the black luxury sedan and looked across the street. A Closed sign on Lettuce Reed’s door.
“Looks like you’re not the only one Grimshaw called,” Boris said.
Ilya resisted looking at the windows of the bookstore’s second story. The drapes were closed, as they always were, but even a look at a place that was supposed to be empty might give Boris a reason to ask questions.
“Go into the bookstore,” Ilya said. “You’ll be able to see this part of Main Street from the windows without being in the open.”
“That leaves the car vulnerable to sabotage,” Boris protested.
Ilya looked at his friend. “The car can be replaced. Besides,” he continued after a moment, “you would see anyone who got near the vehicle and did something that looked sneaky.”
Humans glanced at the two Sanguinati and hurried past. A few women offered a smile aimed more at Boris than at him.
“Be careful,” Boris said quietly.
Ilya smiled. “Worried about me?”
“I don’t want to be the one who has to explain to Natasha that you acted like a human and did something stupid.”
Picturing Natasha’s reaction all too easily, Ilya nodded and went inside the police station.
“Possible situation,” Grimshaw said as soon as Ilya walked into the station. “I don’t like having you and Julian come with me and Osgood, but considering the viciousness of the kills that have occurred around here, I need your experience and skills.”