Even stares down at the desktop in front of him. “Healthy new organs save lives.” It’s repeated like a lesson he’s been forced to memorize.
“Lives like Michael Dexter’s?” I shake my head. “Alan, your mother has Isabella, Amy, and Evan, doesn’t she?”
He meets my gaze head-on. “I don’t know about Amy and Evan, I swear. Only Isabella.”
My skin is crawling. The realization of what Barbara Pierce is doing is making my stomach churn. So barbaric and so
“Where is she keeping them?” asks Zack. “And how is she containing them? No human can simply take a vampire if he or she doesn’t want to be taken.”
“Silver. That’s where Alexander’s research came in handy. The way I understand it, Mager uses tranquilizer darts containing silver to capture the vampires. Then Mother stores the shells in containers where they’re given silver-laced anesthesia to keep them sedated and trapped.”
“The shells?”
Alan swallows. “That’s what she calls them. They don’t have souls, you know. They aren’t human. The shells are like . . . like incubators.”
“For organs,” Zack adds. “She’s built a goddamned organ factory using vampires. Have you known where Isabella was this entire time?”
“Have you?” I repeat.
He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t even know about Michael’s illness until after she went missing. We dated for several months and he didn’t breathe a word of it. After Isabella’s disappearance, he went downhill fast. There was an emergency hospitalization. Isabella was his primary contact. With her gone and no family, he had the hospital call me. I went to my mother right away, of course. Michael needs a liver transplant.”
Alan climbs to his feet and walks over to the window.
“And your mother offered this neat and tidy solution?” Zack asks, his voiced laced with disdain.
Alan turns to face us. “I had to do something! Michael had exhausted all normal channels. He’s on a waiting list, but he’s failing so fast. I told him that there might be another way—that we had money and could look for alternatives. There are always favors to be had if one is willing to pay the price. Michael wouldn’t hear of it. He said he wouldn’t buy his way to the top of the list at the expense of other deserving patients. He’s ready to die.”
“Only, you aren’t ready to let him go,” I say.
Alan glances at the clock on the wall above the coffeemaker. “Michael’s was supposed to be the last life Isabella saved. According to Mother, she’s at the end of her period of . . . usefulness. After a while, the levels of silver necessary to control them turns the organs, spoils them.”
Zack’s on his feet. “How much time do we have?”
“The operation is supposed to take place this afternoon. Maybe an hour,” answers Alan.
Zack fires off a series of questions, short and direct.
“Are there other vampires being held hostage?”
Alan nods. “I don’t know how many.”
“Is there a security system?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the code?”
“No.”
“Are there guards?”
“Yes. One. Mostly just to sign visitors in and out. And to provide security after hours and during the weekends.”
“Anything else we should know?”
Zack walks over to a refurbished cast-iron radiator next to the window and gives it a good yank.
Alan hesitates.
Zack turns his attention back on him. “Well?”
“There’s a door,” Alan continues. “It’s hidden behind a bookcase in Mother’s office. It’s the way into the laboratory.”
“Address?”
Pierce’s lab is not far from Barakov’s office. We should be able to get there in ten, fifteen minutes tops.
Zack reaches back, under his suit, with one hand for his handcuffs. With his other hand he grabs Alan’s wrist. “We’ll come back for you.” After cuffing him to the radiator, Zack turns to me. “No way he can move that thing. I’ll drive ahead and scope out the building. Call me when you get there.”
Alan sinks to the floor. “Michael’s going to die. And I’m going to jail, aren’t I?”
He’s come clean. The least I can do is give him the truth. But what exactly is the truth? Nothing he said to us could be used in court. And even if it could, what kind of story are we talking about? A doctor using vampire organs in transplants? Who would believe it? Once the word got around the vampire community, though, I’m afraid he’d have more to fear from them than any human court.
I heave a sigh. “I don’t know, Alan. Depends entirely on your mother. If she’s willing to take responsibility for the murder of Barakov’s first wife and the homeless victims, you may get a break. But I think if I were you, I’d worry more about retribution from the vampires. They don’t play by the same rules we do.”
CHAPTER 20
Since it’s early Saturday morning, it only takes me fifteen minutes to get across town. During the drive, my thoughts are as frenetic as they are fractured. This case has turned into a nightmare with ramifications that can literally shake the worlds of both humans and supernaturals. I was serious when I told Alan he may have more to fear from the vampires than any human court. And what about this Davis Mager? Will Barbara Pierce give him up? It may be her only way to win favor with the district attorney and, possibly, immunization for her son.
The address Alan gave us for his mother’s office comes into view. It’s a fairly new three-story luxury medical building built around a courtyard. I pull into the parking lot next to Zack’s car and climb out.
Unlike in her husband’s office, there is a large air-conditioning unit perched on the flat roof and signs announcing that Crown Security monitors the premises. The area around the building and adjacent parking lot is landscaped with cascading bougainvillea and large ferns, giving the appearance of a well-kept residential yard. There’s a sign on the front listing Dr. Barbara Pierce’s name among the other medical tenants and a telephone number to reach the security desk outside of regular business hours, including the weekend. The security gate, which leads to a courtyard, is closed and locked.
Still no Zack in sight. Before I have the chance to pull my cell from my pocket to call him, Zack appears and opens the gate from the inside.
“How’d you get in?”
“A little trick I picked up from my previous job.” He pulls the gate closed behind me.
“Have any tricks up your sleeve to get us past that?” I point up ahead to the building’s main entrance. A security camera hovers over the door, no doubt monitored by the guard inside.
Zack scoffs. “Amateurs. The security is unbelievably sloppy. I’ve already found an alternative route. Come this way.”
The courtyard has a fountain in the middle. He leads me behind it and around to a side yard. Separating the side yard from the front is a six-foot stucco wall with a locked gate. Zack easily scales the wall and seconds later the gate swings open for me.
“No camera,” he says, pointing to the door up ahead. “And just an old-fashioned dead bolt.” The door is partially hidden by a screen of thick bushes. As we walk toward it, Zack pulls out a ballpoint pen and begins to unscrew the top. The casing is hollow and contains a variety of picks and tension tools.
I have a very bad feeling nothing we do today is going to be reportable to our superiors. This may be the first time I’ve partnered with someone who has Zack’s “special” skills, but there are three missing vampires, people as far as the world knows, and I shake off my reservations. Human or not, the victims get my
