Author's note: This one's kinda long, but a lot of stuff happens so it kinda has to be! As always, thank you for your kind reviews!
John and Chas entered the hazy, dimly-lit bar. It was only four in the afternoon, so the place was relatively deserted. Though the building was rather shabby, John's initial inspection of the bar revealed two security cameras—whoever their dead girl had been talking to last night, they would find out.
As they weaved through the dining tables towards the back, a man wiping off glassware behind the counter looked up and saw them. His expression wasn't entirely friendly, and as Chas and John stopped at the bar, he raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Can I help you?" the man asked, as he continued to wipe down the glasses.
John ignored the man's irritable attitude as he dug into his trench pocket for his playing card. He held it up for the bartender to see, but the man didn't so much as glance at the fake identity. "I'm with New Orleans homicide," John started, putting away the card. He could see the man didn't really care who they were. "A young woman came in here last night. Long, dark hair. She was with a friend. Happen to see her talking to anyone?"
There was a pause as the man inspected the glassware in his hand, then turned to carefully place the glass on a shelf behind him. As he grabbed another glass, he glanced up at John. "Don't know. Don't pay attention to who comes in here," he replied curtly.
"Are you sure?" Chas asked, leaning on the bar to look the bartender in the eye. "This place seems pretty small. Surely you would remember an attractive young woman who was here just last night."
The bartender shrugged as he glanced at Chas, then back down at his cleaning. "Yeah, I remember her. Didn't pay attention to who she was with, though."
John let out an irritated sigh. Clearly this man wasn't going to be much help to them. He reached into his pocket to pull out his business card, just as the door leading to the back of the bar opened and a woman appeared behind the counter. She paused as she saw John and Chas, then looked over at the man wiping down the glasses.
"Isaac, the women's restroom needs more paper towels," she said. The bartender didn't look at her, but quickly set down the glass he'd been wiping off and disappeared behind the same door the woman had appeared from. Once he was gone, she turned to look at John and Chas. "I'm sorry about Isaac," she said. "What can I help you two with?"
John threw a glance at Chas, then looked back at the woman. Her nice clothes and silver name tag indicated that she was Hannah, the owner of Vaughan's Lounge. She wore a pleasant smile and her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
The exorcist cleared his throat. "We're with New Orleans homicide," he started. "Just wondering if you remember seeing a young woman here last night." John went on to describe the girl, who she was with, and the general time line of her arrival and departure from the bar. Hannah looked at him intently as she listened.
"I do remember her. It was crowded last night, but she was up here at the bar often," the owner stated.
"Did you see her talking to anyone?" Chas asked.
Hannah thought for a moment. "Well, she was very social. Although—" she paused as she remembered the events of the previous night. "There was one man she seemed particularly interested in. I could be wrong, but I think they left together."
John and Chas exchanged another look, and then John turned back to Hannah. "What did this man look like?"
Hannah shrugged. "Tall, black hair. I can't remember too well, but he should be on the security tapes I sent with the other officer." She went on to describe a few more people the dead woman had been seen with, but it seemed the tall, dark-haired man was their best lead. They learned that the man had flirted with Danielle all night long, offered to buy her drinks, and eventually walked her out to the parking lot.
John and Chas thanked Hannah before leaving the bar. Although this new information didn't explain the dog bites, it was still a promising lead. Now all that was left to do was identify this man.
.o.o.o.o.
"I don't understand," Corrigan said as he and Zed drove down the interstate, heading back into the bustling city. "A wolf? I mean there aren't any in the entire state of Louisiana, much less in the middle of New Orleans."
Zed stared ahead at the road, still processing what she had just seen. "It was a wolf," she stated, without peeling her eyes away from the dashed lines flying by along the pavement. "I'm sure of it."
"Maybe one escaped from the zoo," the detective mused, glancing over at Zed. He waited for her to say something, but she remained quiet. "I guess that doesn't explain how Danielle ended up locked in the trunk of her car," he said after a short silence, more to himself than to Zed.
They drove on for a while, neither saying a word. Zed was deep in thought, trying to make a connection between the wolf and the dead women. A wolf would explain the bite marks on the victims' necks, but the fact that an animal not even native to Louisiana was viciously murdering brunettes and eating their hearts was yet another perplexing enigma. Then again, perhaps this wasn't an ordinary wolf. Zed knew of plenty of myths involving the creatures, from the story of Romulus and Remus, all the way to Little Red Riding Hood. But a new thought suddenly dawned on her, and she turned to look at detective Corrigan.
"A werewolf?" she asked suddenly. It felt strange to even say it, but at this point any idea was better than no idea. Besides, if demons and spirits could exist, why not werewolves?
Corrigan shot her a confused look before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "That's insane," he said finally.
There was a pause, and Zed let out a sigh. It was insane. But this whole case didn't make much sense, and she was out of ideas.
"So insane, it might just be worth looking into," Corrigan continued after contemplating it for a moment.
Zed looked at him and nodded. She couldn't wait to hear what John would say about such a theory.
They drove on in silence for a while, until Corrigan pulled the Tahoe into the back entrance of the police station. He switched off the engine, and then looked at Zed as she reached for the door handle. "Can I ask you something?" the detective asked suddenly.
Zed paused with her hand on the door. "Sure," she replied, noting the hesitant tone in Corrigan's voice.
"Are you and John together?"
The question caught her off guard, and she looked back at the detective blankly. It took her a moment to grasp what he was implying. "Together?" she asked after a slight pause. "We work together I suppose, if that's what you mean."
Corrigan just laughed and shook his head. "I didn't think so," he said. "But he seems to get angry whenever I'm around you, so I just thought I'd ask."
"I never noticed that," Zed replied with a chuckle. "I think that's just how John is. He's always angry." And it was mostly true—John always seemed a little on the irritated side, especially when they were working on a particularly difficult case. But now that Corrigan mentioned it, perhaps he did act a little more indignant whenever the detective was around. Although, she had never thought anything of it. That's just how John was, and she was pretty much used to it at this point.
Corrigan looked at Zed and smiled. "Well I'm glad that's cleared up."
Once again, Zed recognized the longing expression in the detective's eyes. His calm gaze never strayed from her face, and she could suddenly feel the blood rushing into her cheeks. Her heart went out to the man as she recalled seeing him dead, knowing his untimely end was inevitable. Jim was so kind to her—it was difficult coming to terms with the reality of his bloody fate. And so when the detective leaned in and their lips met, it was guilt, not attraction, that prompted her to return the kiss.
.o.o.o.o.
"Hey! Interns!" Lieutenant Ambrose shouted when he saw John and Chas emerge from the elevator. They began to walk across the lobby, and Ambrose strode over to meet them halfway. As he approached them, he held out a pair of DVD cases.
John looked at the cases, then glared up at the lieutenant. "Those the tapes from Vaughan's?" he asked.
"What the hell do you think they are?" Ambrose shoved the cases into the exorcist's hands. "I had my techs review them, but you two need to make sure they didn't miss anything. Told you this job ain't all about the glamour. Now get to watching. No one stands around in my department."
Chas had to stifle a laugh as he watched John flinch beneath the lieutenant's diatribe. Had they not been in the police station, the exorcist probably would have run his mouth right back at Ambrose. But knowing they had more important things to accomplish, John quietly took the DVDs from the lieutenant and walked away, grumbling under his breath. Ambrose rushed off, barking orders at other detectives.
At the nearest computers, John and Chas each took a disc and began scrutinizing the footage from the security cameras. It wasn't hard to find their victim—Danielle wore a provocative mini dress, the same one she was wearing when she was found in the trunk of her car. She arrived at Vaughan's with her friend a little after 10:00 p.m., and soon she and the other girl drifted apart and began mingling with other patrons.
John watched closely as Danielle stood at the bar and talked to the bartenders. She had a few drinks, and it wasn't long before the mysterious man approached her. He was just as Hannah had described—tall, dark hair, dressed nicely.
"Are those the security tapes from Vaughan's?" A voice asked from over the exorcist's shoulder.
John glanced behind his back to see Corrigan standing there, along with Zed. He happened to catch a glimpse of her preoccupied expression, but quickly dismissed it and refocused his attention to the security footage as Zed and the detective watched from behind him. It wasn't until two o'clock in the morning that Danielle finally left with the stranger. They exited the bar, walking in the direction of the parking lot where the young woman was ultimately found.
"Well, he certainly seems to be a person of great interest," John stated, as Danielle and the man exited the frame. He turned to look at Corrigan. "Doesn't explain the dog bites, but he's worth looking into."
"Can you run some sort of facial recognition on this guy?" Chas asked.
The detective continued to stare at the screen a moment longer. As he opened his mouth to speak, Lieutenant Ambrose suddenly appeared next to them wearing his usual frown. "Already on it," he said. "Forensics is running biometrics and facial-rec on all the men Danielle was seen talking to."
"What about the man she left with?" Corrigan asked.
"Glad you asked, Corrigan!" the lieutenant exclaimed, although his enthusiastic tone was laden with sarcasm. He produced a sheet of paper from a folder pinned beneath his arm and handed it to the detective. "This guy's got shady written all over his record. Name's Antonio Ruiz, and he's got a record a mile long." Ambrose opened up his folder to peer at the papers inside. "Assault, attempted robbery, possession of narcotics." He slapped the folder closed and looked at Corrigan. "I need you and your interns to go to his address for questioning."
The detective looked over at John and Chas, who nodded in agreement. After receiving additional information on Ruiz's history and last known address, the four of them piled into the Tahoe and headed for the apartment buildings to question their person of interest.
.o.o.o.o.
"Suppose this Antonio fellow has a dog?" John asked, as they drove through the busy streets towards the west side of town. He lit up a cigarette and exhaled a thick puff of smoke, earning a sideways glare from Corrigan.
"I'd bet money on it," Chas replied.
There was silence as Zed looked out the window, trying to decide how to explain her vision to John and Chas. Since meeting John, she'd grown accustomed to battling ghosts and demons. But werewolves? It sounded bizarre to her, but as John liked to say—the visions never lie. "I saw a wolf," she spoke suddenly.
The exorcist's eyes traveled up to the rear view mirror so he could look at her. "A what?"
"El lobo," she insisted. "A wolf."
John continued to stare at her through the mirror as Chas looked back and forth between the two. After a moment, the exorcist took a drag of his cigarette and turned to stare out the window. "Could be a wolf attack I suppose."
"There's no wolves in Louisiana," Zed continued. She took a deep breath. "Do...werewolves exist?"
Now there was an even longer silence. John continued to look out the window, and Chas wore a perplexed expression. Truthfully, neither of them knew how to answer that question. They'd never encountered such a creature, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. Plus, with the rising darkness upon them, it seemed even more likely that new entities from the underworld could now cross the barrier between Hell and Earth.
"Let's follow up on this lead first," John finally replied.
A few minutes later, Corrigan parked the Tahoe in front of the tall, brick apartment building where Antonio Ruiz lived. The detective cocked and holstered his pistol, then nodded towards the main entrance. "I'll go first," he said.
The detective led the way up the stairs, followed by John, Chas, and then Zed. They came to a halt on the fifth floor next to apartment 504, and Corrigan rapped on the door. "NOPD, open up!" he shouted.
They waited. There was no response, and no sound coming from inside the apartment. Corrigan knocked again.
After another moment passed with no response, John shrugged off his trench coat. "Screw this, I'm going in," he stated.
"Stop," Corrigan insisted, holding out a hand.
"Something doesn't seem right," Zed spoke suddenly.
The detective knocked on the door one last time, harder than before. "NOPD! Open up or we're coming in!" He drew his pistol at the ready.
Zed turned to John, who was looking impatient as he stared at the door. "If Antonio got away with killing all these women, why would he make the mistake of showing his face on camera?" she asked.
John looked at her and opened his mouth to reply, but Corrigan spoke up before he could respond. "Go ahead," he directed.
With a forceful and well-placed kick to the lock, there was a splintering of wood and the door swung open to reveal the small studio apartment. The detective rushed in first, aiming his pistol straight ahead. But a few steps into the room, Corrigan froze and lowered his firearm. John, Chas, and Zed followed suit as their eyes were met with the gruesome sight of Antonio Ruiz's lifeless body. There was blood splattered everywhere—the floors, the walls, and even the ceiling. The dead man's throat was punctured, and his chest was pried open to reveal a hole where his heart should have been.