Crossroads

Frey and I know better. We watch the cops head for the entrance of the hotel, some rush inside, others set up a perimeter with crime scene tape.

They’re going to have a tough time analyzing that crime scene. If they even think it a crime scene. What’s left? A pile of fine ash and little else. I remember Detective Harris and his visit to me a few days ago about Wiliams. But in that case, there was tangible physical evidence. Just enough to confuse things. Here there is no body. Only witness accounts that they saw a standoff between a woman and a masked man with a bow. Both are now gone. If for some reason, they run DNA on this ash, it might come back human, but at least the age of the deceased wil be in acceptable human range.

Not long after the police arrive, the lot is blocked off by a Navajo Police vehicle. An officer steps out and begins flagging down approaching tourists and tel ing them they have to turn around, that the hotel is temporarily closed. He’s greeted with a lot of unhappy grumbling, but al comply and make lazy U-turns, wondering out loud what has happened.

Frey looks over at me. “What now?”

“You should go home,” I say after a moment’s consideration. “The police probably think Judith Wiliams was kidnapped. Somebody may describe what you’re wearing even if they couldn’t see your face. I’l stay here and watch for Chael to make his move. He’s old and powerful, but I doubt he’s had to fend for himself against humans very often. His minions take care of the dirty work. He may be looking for a way out. I think I’l give him one.”

Frey narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“He’l need help to escape.” I spread my arms. “Here it is.”

Frey nods his understanding. “Where wil you take him?”

I tel Frey about the cave I explored yesterday. I leave Sani out of it — one problem at a time — but behind those rocks seems a perfect place to take care of a vil ain like Chael.

Frey frowns. “Those caves are sacred. What you propose would desecrate what they represent. No. I think I have a better idea.”

Frey describes a mesa, here, in back of the hotel. There’s an opening in the rock, hard to see from the desert floor, but an easy climb to reach. “Get him there and you’l have al the privacy you need.”

I realize Frey is offering to let me take care of Chael and my spidey sense starts to tingle. “You’l go home? Let me handle Chael?”

He lowers his eyes. “You were right last night. I can’t risk John-John losing both his parents. Kil ing Judith Wiliams was too easy. I know Chael won’t go down witho fight and you are the stronger between us. I trust you to take revenge for Sarah’s death just as I trust you with the life of my son.”

His words raise gooseflesh on my arms. Partly because they’re said with so much sincerity, partly because the lowered eyes are a tel. He’s spouting crap. One thing I know about Frey, he’s a fighter. His pretty speech would have been pitch-perfect had he not added the part about trusting me with the life of his son. It sounded like a codicil to his wil.

He’s up to something.

But I haven’t the time to chal enge him. I wave him off.

“Okay, get going. I’l get back to Sarah’s as soon as I can.”

He gets back into the Jeep, cranks it over, and heads in the direction of Sarah’s house, al without another word or backward glance.

Oh yeah. He’s definitely up to something.

CHAPTER 37

THE POLICE HAVE HERDED EVERYONE INTO THE lobby. They’re taking the witnesses at their word that a crime has been committed. They begin going down the list of guests, checking each name as it is read off and the guest is identified and separated from the rest.

I know this because I’ve scurried like a lizard up the back wal and can see down through windows too high to cause anyone to look up. Chael is not among the mingling masses.

Nor is he emitting any telepathic trail for me to fol ow.

Which means, I have to find him the hard way.

I slip onto a third-floor balcony and start peering into windows. I figure Chael would be staying in one of the best rooms and since the rooms on this floor have big windows with magnificent views, this is where he’s likely to be.

I find him on the fifth try. He’s on his cel phone, talking softly, a slightly hysterical tone to his voice. He’s desperate to get out of the hotel before his name is cal ed and the police come looking for him. He’s dressed, as always, like a dandy — pleated slacks, tailored shirt, leather loafers. He has a cream-colored sweater thrown over his shoulders, sleeves knotted over his chest.

I watch for a moment — deciding. Should I kil him now? It’s what I told Frey to do.

And yet.

There is someone helping him here on the reservation.

Has to be. Is it George? Whoever it is could be another threat to Frey and his son even with Chael gone. Better to find out.

Vampire growls in frustration. She looks forward to the kil.

Patience.

The slider is unlocked and I slip inside. Seems appropriate somehow since it’s the way he intruded on me.

He’s not aware of my presence until I pick up a lamp from a table and let it fal with a clatter to the carpet. He drops the cel phone and whirls around with a flash of teeth and fist. The human Anna is obviously the last person he expected to see.

Anna? What are you doing here?

He’s emitting more fear than threat.

I learned not too long ago that Chael is like a lot of old-soul vampires who have lost the edge that makes them truly dangerous. For centuries, they have relied on others to do their fighting and when cornered, a slirt to threats and promises to tide them over before they can cal their minions.

Then they stand back and watch the carnage, taking ful credit, of course.

I make it a point to look around the room, ignoring his question and countering with one of my own. Where is your whore? I ask innocently.

His mouth droops into a frown. Someone killed her. Right here in the hotel. Shot her with an arrow. It wasn’t you?

No. Al I offered was encouragement. I feign shock. How did you find out about it? Were you there, too?

Chael acts like he’s going to ignore the question, but then he says with an angry sweep of his hand, Stupid, stupid woman. I told her indulging herself was too risky. But just feeding was not satisfying enough for her. She needed the kill. The host got away. Came up here. Told me some man made her run away from Judith, that he was going to kill her. When I heard the commotion in the lobby, saw the ash, I knew it was true.

What happened to the host?

I don’t know. I don’t care. I told her if I saw her again, I’d kill her. She’s gone.

His eyes narrow. How did you know I was here?

I pause the length of a heartbeat. I came to the hotel to meet my friend and his son. I got here right after — it happened. Suspected it was Judith when I heard a witness describe the victim and that somebody had her at arrow point. Now it’s my turn. What are you doing here? Did you follow me?

There’s a moment’s hesitation while he processes what I said. He knew I was at the lodge because he saw me. He can’t be sure though, that I saw him. He lets go of uncertainty and launches into his story. I