Incubus Dreams - Laurell K. Hamilton [297]
“Then he’s off joining up with his killer friends, and I have no idea where to start looking for him. We know his hunting ground is across the river in the clubs.”
Zerbrowski nodded. “Sheriff Christopher, who you met, is putting all his men on alert. The Staties are helping out, trying to keep it low profile.”
“You’re not going to keep it out of the media much longer.”
He shrugged. “I know.”
“So if extra people are patrolling the clubs, then we can check out the other theory.”
“The church,” he said.
I nodded.
“I’ll talk to Abrahams, let him know what’s up. You go outside and make nice with Arnet.”
“Zerbrowski . . .”
“Do it, Anita, I don’t have time to baby-sit any more feuds. You’ve got less than five minutes to fix this. I’d go outside and get started if I were you.” He had that strange un-Zerbrowski-like tone to his voice again. Not hostile, but no room to debate. It was a voice that expected to be obeyed, and strangely, I did. At least I went outside. I had no idea how to fix things with Arnet. You can’t fix something until you know what’s broke. I couldn’t believe she was that pissed about not being able to date Nathaniel, and if it wasn’t that, I was clueless. Yet another interpersonal relationship that I had no clue about. Was it just me, or are people really this confusing?
63
A GLANCE OUT the partially open door didn’t show Arnet. There was a forest of uniformed officers, plain clothes, and the coroner’s wagon complete with coroner waiting to take the body away. We were still waiting for the crime lab, CSU. It was rare for me to arrive on the scene this soon. I peeled off my bloody gloves at the door, but no one had set up a trash bag for debris. I ended up holding the gloves between two fingertips by a clean edge. Awkward, but I couldn’t just drop them.
The newest dectective on the RPIT payroll came around the door frame with an open, but empty trash bag in his gloved hands. His name was Smith and I’d met him once at a crime scene long ago when he was in uniform. It had actually been one of the very first times I’d met Nathaniel. Smith had been comfortable enough around the lycanthropes that I’d remembered it. Remembered it enough to tell Dolph. Apparently, Dolph had remembered it, too. Seeing Smith in plain clothes had been a reminder that Dolph didn’t really think I was evil, and might even still value my opinion.
He smiled at me. “Looks like I’m just in time.” He held the bag open so I could drop the gloves in.
I smiled back. “The nick of time.”
Zerbrowski yelled, “Smith!”
Smith moved toward Zerbrowski with the bag still in his hands. He was the newest detective on the squad, and that meant he was their version of a grunt. It wasn’t as bad as being a uniformed rookie, but it was still low man on the totem pole. I walked outside without waiting to see what Zerbrowski wanted Smith for. Not my problem. No, my problem was waiting outside.
I actually expected Arnet to be somewhere in the hallway with all the extra personel, but she wasn’t. I went down the stairs and out the glass doors of the little entryway. She had taken Zerbrowski literally, or maybe she really needed the air. The October night was soft, warmer than last night, but still cool enough to feel like autumn. The air tasted like it was time to go somewhere and pick apples.
Arnet was sitting on the curb. The halogen light was bright enough that her pantsuit still looked the same shade of brownish burgundy that it had in the apartment. I would have looked sickly in the color, but it brought out highlights in her short hair that you didn’t see when she wore black or navy. She had her arms around her knees, not exactly clutching them, but obviously not happy even from a distance.
I took a deep breath, let it out, and kept walking toward her. I so didn’t want to do this. I stopped short of her, and said, “Is this seat taken?”
She jumped and glanced back at me. She scrubbed at her face, trying to hide tears. “Oh, great,” she said, “just great. You catch me crying. Now you must think I really am a loser.