Obsidian Butterfly - Laurell K. Hamilton [274]
“She’s as corrupt as you are.”
“So it’s okay that she dies a horrible death,” I said.
He just looked at me. I moved as if to go towards the buttons. Bernardo caught his clue. He hit Marks in the head with his cast. The man went down, and I hit the door close button. The doors hushed closed as Bernardo lowered Marks to the floor.
“You want me to kill him?” Bernardo asked.
“No.” But now if I went to Ramirez for help, Marks would think he’d been in on it. Shit. “Do you have Edward’s car?”
“Yeah.”
“How did Olaf drive off, then?”
Bernardo looked at me. “If he’s really doing this, he’ll steal a car and ditch it away from the murder scene. He won’t chance using Edward’s car.”
“He’ll go back to Edward’s house for his goody bag,” I said.
The doors opened on the floor that he’d parked on. We got out. “What do you mean goody bag?”
“If he’s going to cut her up, then he’ll want the tools he normally uses. Serial murderers are very anal when it comes to how the victims are treated. They spend a lot of time planning exactly what they’ll do and how.”
“So he’s at Edward’s?”
“How long has he been gone?”
“Three hours, maybe three and a half.”
“No, he’ll be at Dallas’s, if that’s where he is at all.”
Bernardo opened the car, and we got in. I had to take the Browning out of my pants. The barrel’s just too long for sitting down like that. I ended up holding it in my lap. I watched Bernardo drive with his cast-wrapped arm. “You need me to drive?”
“I’m fine. Just tell me where Dallas lives, and I’ll drive us.”
“Shit!”
He put the car in park and looked at me. “The police would know the address.”
“When Marks wakes up, we’ll be lucky to stay out of jail,” I said.
“We don’t even know that Olaf’s at her house,” he said.
“I got a better one. How to explain that we know he was a serial murderer and didn’t warn the police sooner.”
“Do you have Edward’s cell phone?” I asked.
He didn’t argue, just leaned across and opened the glove compartment. I got the phone out.
“Who you going to call?”
“Itzpapalotl. She’ll know the address.”
“She’ll eat Olaf’s face.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Either way you better get us out of the parking area before Marks wakes up and starts screaming.”
He drove us out of the parking lot and started slowly down the street. I dialed information, and the operator was happy to dial The Obsidian Butterfly for me. It was daylight. I knew better than to ask for Itzpapalotl herself, so I asked for Pinotl and told them it was an emergency and it was Anita Blake. I think it was my name that got me through, as if they’d been expecting the call.
Pinotl came on the line with his rich voice. “Anita, my mistress said you would call.”
I was betting that she’d been wrong on the why, but . . . “Pinotl, I need the address for Professor Dallas’s house.”
Silence on the other end of the phone.
“She’s in danger, Pinotl.”
“Then we will take care of it.”
“I’m going to have to call the police in on this, Pinotl. They’d shoot your werejaguars on sight.”
“You are worried about our people?” he said.
“Give me the address, and I’ll take care of it for you, Pinotl.”
Silence except for his breathing.
“Tell your mistress, thanks for her help, Pinotl. I know I’m alive now because she helped me.”
“You are not angry that she did not tell you all she knew?”
“She’s a centuries old vampire. They can’t help themselves sometimes.”
“She is a goddess.”
“We’re just arguing semantics, Pinotl. We both know what she is. Please give me the address.”
He gave it to me. I read the directions to Bernardo, and off we went.
64
I CALLED THE POLICE on the way. I made it an anonymous call. Saying I’d heard screams. I hung up without giving my name. If Olaf wasn’t there, then they’d scare the hell out of Dallas, and I’d apologize. I’d even pay for any busted locks.
“Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” Bernardo asked.
“What? I think that some serial killer is there murdering her. And how do you know this, ma’am? Well, officer, you see it’s like this. I’ve known he was a serial killer for days now, but our mutual friend Ted Forrester had forbidden