be colossally stupid not to do this. When you’re faced with two choices, one that makes everybody happy, and one that isn’t dangerously stupid, you pick the second one. That’s something Jameson taught me.”
“Look, there’s a chance that she’ll rise. There’s also a chance that you’re about to traumatize Simon for life. Why don’t—”
“You admit, then, that there’s a chance. I don’t gamble, Glauer. Now, either help them bring the body out here or get out of my face.”
He reached to take her arm. She swung around, very fast, and punched him in the wrist. He backed away quickly, shaking his arm in pain. It was his fault Raleigh was dead. He had let her commit suicide. If he spoke to her again she planned on hitting him someplace else, like the face or the stomach.
The body was brought out. The troopers had wrapped it in a white sheet, then strung duct tape around the feet and neck to keep the sheet in place. Two troopers lowered it carefully on top of her pile of wood, and a third doused body and wood in gasoline at her instruction. She thought maybe someone should say some words, but the HQ’s chaplain refused to get involved when she called him. She had no idea what to say, herself.
In a trash can she found a crumpled newspaper and she bunched it in her hands. She turned to look at the troopers who had helped her. “Which one of you smokes? I need a lighter.”
They just stared at her.
“Now you’re growing balls? You soaked her with gasoline! What did you think I was going to do?”
A hand descended on her shoulder. She spun around, intending to push Glauer off, but it wasn’t him.
Deputy Marshal Fetlock stood there with a look of absolute horror on his face.
“Stop,” he said.
She considered hitting him.
She did not. But it took some effort.
“Who the fuck called him?” she demanded, turning to look at the troopers who stood around her. They were all staring at her, some of them looking more uncomfortable than others. “Glauer? Was it you? So help me—”
“Stop,” Fetlock said again.
“Deputy Marshal,” she said, trying to cool her voice down, make it sound reasonable, “this girl may be infected with the vampire curse. If we don’t destroy her body before sundown, she might come back.
I’ve never actually seen it happen. I can only rely on what Jameson taught me. But they come back fast, and they come back very strong. They come back ready to hunt.”
“Stop,” Fetlock said. “Back up.”
He meant physically. She took a step away from the pyre. Then another one. He held up his hand, palm forward, and she took a third step. She dropped her newspaper fire starter on the ground.
He turned to look at Simon, but kept glancing back at her as if he expected her to rush at the pyre and set it alight. The thought had occurred to her. “Simon Arkeley,” he said. “That’s your sister there? We’re not going to burn her today.”
“You’re Caxton’s boss, right?” he asked.
“That’s right, son.” Fetlock turned to face her again, though he continued to address Simon. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Yeah. Well. I haven’t really had time to process—”
“But maybe,” Fetlock interrupted, “you could go inside and let the police handle police business, alright?
Glauer, you keep an eye on him.”
Glauer took the boy inside.
“Now,” Fetlock said, walking toward Caxton. “That’s better.” He came up to her until he was close enough to box her ears. He didn’t. Instead he said: “Give me your star.”
Chapter 46.
“You can’t do this,” Caxton said. “Not now.”
Fetlock held out his hand.
“Look. She has to be destroyed. If I don’t do it—”
“I’m not a fool, Caxton. I’ll take care of it. But I won’t burn her in the parking lot like this. It’s illegal, for one thing. And it’s the wrong thing to do.”
“You trusted me!” she said. “You said this was going to be my investigation and I could run it as I saw fit.
You said you would keep your hands off it.”
“That was back when I thought you were a competent officer. I don’t doubt you know what you’re doing, or that this is important. But your behavior is increasingly erratic and your methods are not acceptable. I’ll take it from here.”
He moved quickly then. He pointed at the troopers, who were just standing around watching her disgrace. “You and you—get that body off of there. Move it inside, get it in a room with only one door.
You—go tell your Commissioner that Laura Caxton is no longer an employee of the federal government.
If he wants to take her back as a state trooper that’s his business. Trooper Glauer.”
“Sir,” the big cop said, standing to attention.
“You work directly for me now. Go down to the SSU room and be ready to brief me when I arrive. I want to know everything she’s been doing while I wasn’t here.”
Suddenly the two of them were alone in the parking lot. She stared at him with a growing horror. This was real. She was being removed from the case. Her authority to hunt down Jameson and Malvern was gone.
“Damn it, Fetlock! At least let me cut her heart out!”
His stare, as he looked down his nose at her, was nothing short of reptilian. He held her gaze, pinning her like a vampire hypnotizing his victim, for far too long. Then, finally, his face fell. “Tell you what. We do owe you for getting us this far. I’ll let you watch.”
He went off to give more orders, leaving Caxton alone. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun was already standing on the horizon, ready to sink.
There were things she needed to do before it did. She ran out to her car and squatted next to its driver’s-side door. Careful not to make too much noise, she unstrapped the Velcro that held her holster around her thigh and waist. She looked at the 90-Two with its clip full of Teflon bullets and its flashlight/laser attachment, checking twice to make sure the safety was on and there was no round in the chamber. Opening the door, she shoved her weapon and its holster under the driver’s seat. Opening the glove compartment, she took out her spare pistol—an old- fashioned Beretta 92, the kind she had always carried before Jameson started wearing ballistic vests, and shoved it in her pocket. There was no spare holster for it, but she would just have to make do.
Heading back into the building, she went looking for Glauer, intending to give him a piece of her mind.
She found him down in the SSU room obeying orders. “I shouldn’t even let you in here,” he said, looking up from a file cabinet.
“You sold me out,” she said. “You can at least let me check a few things.” She went to the laptop where it sat on the bookshelf and powered it up. She’d never seen a vampire rise on its first night, but she had a bunch of first-person accounts from previous vampire hunters, and maybe she could find something to confirm her fears. She wanted to be forewarned as best as possible about what was going to happen when Raleigh woke up.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when Glauer touched her on the shoulder. She spun around, ready to curse him, or maybe hit him, but he gave her a look of such hurt feelings she couldn’t follow through.
Then he lifted one finger to touch his lips and mustache. She narrowed her eyes—what was he trying to tell her? To be quiet?
He looked down and pointed to her belt. To the cell phone she carried there. She took it out and held it up for him. She’d never liked it, it was too big and clunky, and she would be glad to give it back to Fetlock, if that was what Glauer was after. He did take it from her, but instead of putting it in his pocket he fiddled with it for a second and then shoved his thumbnail into a narrow depression on the back of the case. The battery popped out with a
