Cyn blinked. Wishes to serve? “Great, that's great,” she said, trying to conceal her discomfort. “Downstairs, then?"
Hartzler had been standing there staring at her, pale eyes glowing with excitement. He smiled. “Yes, of course. We'll take the stairs."
Downstairs, back in his own domain, the morgue tech became the efficient and knowledgeable professional once again. His eyes still watched her a little too closely and a smile kept playing around his lips, but for the most part, he was all business.
"Bodies or files first?” There was a hint of challenge in his words. As if Cyn had anything to prove to this guy.
"The files, I think."
He opened a desk drawer and withdrew several folders. “These are my own files, a combination of the ME's records and what I've been able to glean from other sources. They're confidential, you understand, and don't exist in any official sense."
"Of course,” Cyn murmured. She took the folders, glancing around for a place to sit.
"Use my desk,” Hartzler said, sweeping the chair out grandly. “Take all the time you need."
* * * *
Cyn wrote a final note and closed the last file. She'd filled an entire yellow pad with notes and sketches and Hartzler had long since gotten bored and wandered away to his own duties. Apparently watching Cyn read the case files wasn't all that much of an honor after all.
He was nowhere to be found when she pushed through the double doors to the hallway, so she went on upstairs, figuring that's where he'd be. She might not like the guy much, but his files had been amazingly complete, so complete that she wondered exactly where he'd gotten some of it. Not that it mattered. The information had been tremendously helpful to her which was all she cared about.
The door at the top of the stairs swung shut behind her and she heard voices down the hall. Figuring it must be Hartzler, she headed in that direction, already digging her keys out of her backpack.
"What the fuck is she doing here?"
Cyn recognized the voice and spun around with a deceptive smile. “Lovely to see you too, Santillo."
"I say again,” Detective Charlie Santillo said, ignoring her to glare at Hartzler. “What the fuck is she doing here?"
Cyn spoke up before Hartzler could get them both in trouble. “I'm a licensed Private Investigator, Santillo, looking for a missing girl. I requested and received through proper channels permission to view the bodies of the Jane Does in this facility in case one of them was my girl. I'm happy to say she's not here."
Santillo gave her an unfriendly look. “Next time you want to see a body on one of my cases, Leighton, you call me, understand? I don't give a shit what strings your daddy pulled to get you in here, I know who you work for and I don't want you mucking around my case."
"You have no idea who I work for, Santillo. But then you're pretty clueless about a lot of things, especially these murders.” She turned away from him deliberately. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Hartzler. I'm sorry I wasn't able to help.” She started down the hallway toward the door, but Santillo's meaty hand grabbed her arm, holding her back.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
Santillo was an inch or two shorter than she was, but his body was thick with muscle and fat. She looked down at his hand on her arm, and then rolled her eyes deliberately up to meet his with a cold stare. His hand dropped away.
"We've got your boy dead to rights, Leighton. He won't get away with it this time."
"You've got nothing, Santillo, and I can hardly wait to see the look on your face when you realize that.” She started walking again, but was once again halted by his voice.
"What about Carballo, Leighton? Doesn't it bother you to work for the creatures who murdered your good friend Benita? Or maybe it was you helped ‘em cover up the whole thing, huh? You know, I hear vampire sex is pretty damn fantastic. Is that all it takes to buy you, Leighton? A good fuck?"
Cyn spun on her heel. “Is that what this is about, Santillo? You got your feelings hurt? Did it make you feel all inadequate when you found out Benita was fucking a bloodsucker instead of you?” The deliberately crude words were delivered with a sweetly solicitous smile. And they had the desired effect.
"Bitch!” Santillo exploded, closing the distance until he was right in her face. His mouth smelled of the garlic he'd had for lunch, poorly masked by mint, and Cyn's nostrils pinched in protest as she held her ground.
"You got Benita killed, Leighton. They drained her dry and left her for road kill, and you're still defending those bastards."
"Benita got herself killed. She was dirty and you know it. Just like you know those girls weren't killed by any vampire.” She stabbed her finger toward the floor and the basement below.
Muscles bunched as his hands curled into fists at his sides. “Don't you talk about Benita. Don't you dare."
He would have said more, but the door opened behind Cyn to admit another cop, someone she didn't know, but who obviously knew Santillo well. He took one look at the situation and stepped between the two of them. Cyn moved back a step rather than shoving against his bulk.
"Easy, Charlie,” he said to Santillo. “You don't want to blow this now."
"You know who that is?” Santillo's arm swung out in her direction.
"Yeah, I do. And I know she's not worth it, so back off."
Cyn bristled at this dismissal from someone she didn't even know and was tempted to shove him out of the way after all. But she saw Hartzler's pale face watching from down the hall, eyes wide and panicky, and suddenly she remembered the real reason she was here. She took another voluntary step backward and reached out blindly for the door knob behind her.
"This isn't over, Leighton!” Santillo's tight voice followed her.
"Let it go,” the other cop said. “Don't mess this up, man."
Cyn glanced over her shoulder, quickly pulled the door open and turned to leave. As she stepped outside, the door swung shut behind her, but slowly enough that she heard the unknown cop's voice again. “How much does she know?"
"Nothing,” Santillo rasped. “Claims she was here on a runaway kid. Besides no one but you and—"
The door shut, cutting off his words. Cyn stopped at the foot of the stairs and scowled back up at the windowless building. Santillo was the lead investigator on this case. He was the one who'd gotten everyone else started down the vampire killer path, the one who'd pushed until it was the only trail anyone was following. If something was about to break on that, she'd really like to know what it was. Hartzler would probably tell her, but he'd already stuck his neck out far enough. Willingly, to be sure, but she didn't want to push him any further. Not now. She might need him more later, and besides, those girls hadn't been killed by any vampire. She was certain of that much. If Santillo tried to pin this on Raphael or any of his vamps, he was in for a big surprise. And definitely not the good kind.
Chapter Thirty
It was late, but she stopped at an electronics store moments before they closed, earning dirty looks from everybody except the sales guy who wrote up her order for a laptop computer and prepaid cell phone. Later on, she'd arrange for Mirabelle to have the real thing, but the prepaid would do for now. Mirabelle wanted to help in the search for her sister, and Cyn had figured out a way she could do that without becoming even more lost than Liz was. She threw her purchases onto the back seat and turned toward Malibu.
Alexandra's manor was brightly lit when Cyn rounded the final curve of the driveway. Soft electric light filled every window, making the formal building seem warm and welcoming, the kind of house they always showed in those sappy holiday movies, except for the absence of a tree in the window. She wondered if Alexandra planned on getting a Christmas tree this year. Probably depended on which magazines she was reading at the time.
"Cyn!” Mirabelle came flying out of the house as Cyn was unloading her purchases. “I didn't know you were coming!” she said with a big grin on her face.
"I wanted to see how you're doing. Everything okay here?"
"Definitely! This is such a cool house and all the other vampires are so friendly. The guys even tease me about my piano playing. Oh, and Alexandra and I have been shopping! Did you know you can buy almost anything on the Internet if you have a credit card? If I'd known that I'd have spent a fortune. Of course, I would have had to get ahold of a credit card, but I bet Liz already figured that out and—"
Cyn held up her hand, out of breath just from listening. “Great. That's great, Mirabelle. In fact, I've got a new laptop for you here.” She swung the large square box out of the truck, intending to carry it herself, but Mirabelle slid it easily from her arms. Oh right. Vampire. “I want you to start hanging around those message boards you and Liz use,” Cyn said. “Get some messages out there that you're safe and looking for her. I bought you a cell phone too."
"Cool! Thanks, Cyn. I've been checking our usual boards; Alexandra let me use her computer. But there's been nothing since that first message.” Mirabelle's forehead creased with worry.
"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me too much, though. Liz's computer might have been lost or even stolen, or maybe she put it in a locker somewhere for safekeeping. Either way, she could log on any day now, in an Internet café or on someone else's computer, and I want you out there waiting for her."
They started walking toward the house, passing the privet hedge that surrounded the marble courtyard. Cyn glanced over and saw that the shiny marble had been removed, leaving a dusty plot of dirt surrounded by the pristine hedge. “The workmen came, huh?” she said.
Mirabelle shrugged. “I guess. When I woke up tonight, it was like this. Alexandra says she's going to put in a maze. I always thought those were sort of creepy."
Cyn slanted a gaze at Mirabelle, but clearly the irony of a vampire calling a maze creepy was lost on her. “Come on,” she said. “Let's get inside and get you set up. Hell, if they've got a wireless connection here, you'll soon be able to shop from any room in the house."
