Chapter 58: Missing

Jeremy insisted on walking Tolliver out. After promising Clay she'd stick close to Jeremy, Dawn tagged along, using the excuse of grabbing breakfast so she could speak to Jeremy without Clay overhearing. Before they had reached the elevator, Buffy had joined them, knowing something was wrong. Nick hadn't said anything to her other than Jeremy being in Dawn and Clay's room. She had to find out what was wrong.

When they reached the lobby, Tolliver stopped to answer his cell phone, and they stepped aside to give him privacy.

"I can see Antonio from here," Jeremy murmured to me. "Both of you go get something to eat. I'll see Dr. Tolliver off."

Dawn's cell phone buzzed. Rita calling to say that she'd confirmed Lyle Sanderson's disappearance. "Three people missing from one neighborhood," she said. "Something's going on. When I mentioned it in the newsroom, we laid bets on how long it takes someone to connect these disappearances to our dead girl from last night."

Dawn looked to Buffy as they stopped walking. "You think there's a link?" Dawn asked as she held the phone out for Buffy to hear.

"Hell, no. I'm taking criminology classes at the uni—figured it can't hurt, right?—and from everything I've learned there, and working here, I can't imagine a connection. On the one hand, you have people disappearing without a trace. No letters or calls to the press. Not even ransom notes. Then you've got this ballsy SOB who not only displayed his work in public, but did it within screaming distance of people. You could argue that he killed the others and didn't enjoy it enough, so he went public, but that's a big step to take so quickly. My opinion, at least."

"Can we quote you on that?" Buffy asked.

She laughed. "Like to see you two try. Speaking of tips, I've got a few you two can have. The crackpots are really coming out of the woodwork on this one. Just this morning we had a guy report seeing a walking corpse downtown."

"The core is pretty dead these days," Dawn said.

Rita snorted a laugh. "Unbelievable. Take a heat wave, add a health scare and people's common sense takes a holiday. Zombies, killer rats, signs of the apocalypse…I'm just waiting for someone to say they've spotted sasquatches on Spadina. Or vampires in the Don Valley."

Dawn and Buffy glanced at each other. "I'd believe vampires," Buffy said.

"I'm sure you would, Buffy. Listen, someone's waving me into a meeting. You two give me a call later. I want to get together before you both leave town." Her hand went over the mouthpiece as she yelled a muffled "hold on," then came back to them. "Gotta run. You two take care. And watch out for those vampires."

"We will," Dawn said as she hung up. She and Buffy sensed something, and turned to see Clay coming up the steps.

"Back up to bed," Dawn said. "You heard the doctor."

"Yeah, and he also said to eat. At this rate, I'd have starved before you two brought breakfast.

"Clay, please…" Dawn said as she noticed her sister's puzzled expression. She mouthed toward Buffy, "Tell you later."

Buffy nodded.

Clay stepped beside them, hand dipping to Dawn's. "I'll go nuts in bed, darling. You know that. I'll just take it easy."

Dawn hesitated, and then nodded as Nick came up beside them. They headed over to the table, where everyone, including Zoe, was laughing as Jaime regaled them with a story.

"—and I've seen fake tears before, but these were so bad the entire crew was snorting, trying not to laugh. So, the woman's wailing her heart out, practically rolling on the stage, and the ghost says—" She saw them and stopped. "Is everything okay?" she asked Clay. "You look okay."

"I am," he said, pulling out a chair for me. "Just an infection. Fever's gone; doc dosed me up. I'm fine. But we need to get these two some food." His grin broke through. "Seems Dawn is eating for three."

Congratulations ensued, infused with shock from all but one person at the table, though he tried to feign it.

Dawn turned to Antonio. "You knew, didn't you? Jeremy told you."

A small smile. "He said he suspected—"

Dawn waved off the rest. "Payback for the conspiracy later. First, food."

"And Buffy …" Clay started as he looked at Nick.

Nick smiled as he looked at Antonio. "And Buffy is eating for two. Seems she has the same accelerated pregnancy Dawn does. In the last couple days, she is already almost a week along according to Tolliver."

"How?" Antonio wondered.

"Your son and I had an arrangement. I get to give Savannah a little brother or sister. And you get to have a grandchild," Buffy said.

Congratulations ensued again, infused with shock from everyone including Antonio who stood and pulled Buffy into an embrace. Just as he let Buffy go, Savannah was there hugging her mother.

"Jaime was just telling us about a show she did last month." Antonio said.

"Zoe's a fan," Savannah said as she set a heaping plate in front of her mother.

"Big fan," Zoe said. "I was telling her that I know someone who's an even bigger fan. Producer friend of mine. I used to do some work for him when he was starting out in Toronto—needed equipment but couldn't quite afford to pay retail. He's in L.A. now, and he just got the go-ahead to do a TV special next year. They're going to try to contact Marilyn Monroe, find out how she died. Huge, splashy production." She looked at Jaime. "It'd be a blast. You know it would."

Jaime laughed. "Cheesy as hell. Right up my alley."

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a maybe."

They brought Zoe up to date on the killing the night before.

Zoe tapped her nails against her champagne flute. "You know, I might be able to round up a witness for you. Not sure how much good it would do, but if you're waiting around for Randy to call back anyway…"

"A witness? Working girl?" Buffy said.

"No, a supernatural who haunts—and hunts—in that neighborhood."

Nick leaned forward. "I thought you were the only vampire in Toronto."

Buffy shook her head. "Nick, despite Zoe's claims to the contrary. She's one of hundreds in the city. I'm not even sure how many I dusted when Dawn and I were living here."

"This isn't a vamp. Or a were. She's…well, we're not quite sure what she is, but—" Zoe said.

A cell phone rang. At the first note, Jaime, Zoe, Nick, Antonio and Dawn all jumped, ready to grab theirs. Clay rolled his eyes and muttered something about electronic leashes. As the tone began, Dawn said, "That's mine."

"Never even got the damned thing back in your pocket," Buffy said as Dawn rolled her eyes.

"It's … oh, it's Anita Barrington," Dawn said.

Buffy and Clay growled. Buffy since Anita had tried to steal the letter not once but twice from them had jumped on Clay's I hate Anita bandwagon. Clay went to pluck the phone from Dawn, but she pulled it out of his reach.

"Don't answer—" he began.

Too late. A minute later, Dawn hung up.

"Let me guess," Jaime said. "She has urgent information and wants to come over right away."

"Nah," Clay said. "She's back to wanting us to go there."

"But it is urgent, as always," Buffy said, sneaking a wedge of cantaloupe from Nick's plate. "She did sound pretty freaked out, though."

"How did you guys—?" Jaime began. "Oh, enhanced hearing, right? Nice trick."

"Just be sure you never whisper anything in front of them," Zoe said. "So, what's up with Anita?"

"She won't say," Dawn said. "Just that it's extremely urgent this time, and she has critical information we absolutely must have right away, because we're making a very big mistake."

"Uh-huh. So, when you said you'll be there, you were just blowing her off, right?" Buffy said.

"That's up to Jeremy. And here he comes now, with Matthew Hull in tow."

Zoe sipped her mimosa. "If you want, we can pop by Anita's place on the way to visit that friend of mine. She lives near there."

"Thought you wanted to steer clear of Anita Barrington," Clay said.

"Steering clear of a curious old woman is one thing. But an immortality-questing witch who's obsessed enough to tackle werewolves? Time to put a face to a name before I end up on the wrong end of a binding spell."

Jeremy sent the sisters and Clay to see Anita, but with Antonio, Savannah and Nick in tow for backup. When they arrived, the beaded curtain was still drawn over the front display, the sign proclaiming the shop closed. They knocked there, rang the bell for the apartment and even found—and banged on—the rear door. No answer.

Savannah using Slayer strength, at the insistence of Buffy, broke the lock and opened the back door.

"Do you want me to wait out here with Mom and Aunt Dawn?" Savannah whispered.

Clay nodded. "With Nick, too."

"Savannah and I'll stay with Buffy and Dawn," Nick said. "Make sure nothing happens to yours or my baby."

Dawn laughed. She had never thought she would ever hear those words come out of Nick's mouth.

Ten minutes later, Clay and Antonio came out.

"She's gone," Antonio said. "We found traces of blood—"

Dawn and Buffy pushed past Clay and went inside. Clay waved Nick around to cover the front, while Antonio stayed and watched the back door. Savannah came in with them.

The shop was dark and quiet. Buffy flipped on a light.

Savannah inhaled and turned, instantly cursing her above normal Slayer smell. As she turned away from what she saw, a pool of blood, covering several tiles. To the left was a sneaker print—large and wide, probably male.

Buffy crouched beside the blood. She sniffed, then looked up at Clay. "It's hers."

"Do you think that much be fatal?" Savannah asked finally turning back towards the blood and her mother.

Buffy shook her head. "No, sweetie. To be fatal would have to be ten times that much."

As Buffy pushed to her feet, she saw another bloody print a couple of feet away. A small handprint, almost certainly not belonging to the same person who'd left the footprint. To the left of the print was a smear. Upon closer inspection it was a line, drawn by a bloody finger. On one side of the top was a diagonal, as if someone had started drawing an arrow, then been interrupted.

They followed the direction the arrow was pointing—the same as the outstretched handprint.

"Should we look through the books?" Savannah asked.

"Forget it," Clay said. "No time for games."

Dawn examined the shelf. "How about a quick round of 'what in this picture doesn't belong?'" She reached down and took Anita's cookie plate off a stack of books. A folded piece of paper tucked under it fluttered to the floor. She unfolded the note and read it with Buffy and Clay looking over her shoulders.

Dawn and Buffy,

I know I should have delivered this message in person, but I don't dare. I'm an old woman and if I can't find the answers I seek, the least I can do is preserve what little time I have left. Patrick Shanahan has been here. He didn't get what he wanted, but he won't give up so easily. You need to know that—

The ink smeared there, the pen sliding across the page. Then, below it, a hastily added line, the handwriting cramped and rushed.

Dawn, you are the key to the ritual and Patrick will say—do—anything to get to—

The note ended there.

Buffy and Dawn cursed when Dawn had read that Dawn was the key to the ritual.

They called Jeremy. After much discussion, he agreed Clay, Buffy, Savannah and Dawn should push on and still visit Zoe's contact. He'd bring Jaime over to the bookstore, meet up with Antonio and Nick and see whether Jaime could figure out what had happened to Anita.

They headed toward the address that Zoe had given them for her contact. Since it was daytime, Zoe had phone to tell the contact to expect them. They came out on a street that straddled Cabbagetown and Regent Park. Like the portal street, this one was lined with Victorian homes.

"Here," Savannah said, swinging open a rusted gate, when she spotted the house number that led into a yard of weeds.

They circled around the back of the house; Zoe had said the only entrance was through the cellar at the back of the house. Clay had wanted to go in alone with Savannah watching Buffy and Dawn. He didn't think the sisters should be going down rickety stairs.

"We'll be fine," Dawn and Buffy said.

The moment the sisters reached the bottom step, they gagged. Clay knocked his head on the low ceiling frame in his rush to get to them.

"We're okay," Dawn said, trying to speak without swallowing or closing her mouth. She motioned for Clay and Savannah to wait as Buffy and Dawn hurried up the steps and spat outside. When they came back down, the gag reflex kicked in again and they hesitated on the lowest step.

"Come on," he said, taking Dawn's arm. "We're getting out—"

"No," Dawn said as she pried his fingers free, and then walked into the room followed by Buffy, taking shallow breaths, acclimating themselves to the smell.

"Uncle Clay and I can talk to this Tee," Savannah said. "Aunt Dawn, you and mom go outside, get some fresh air, maybe something to settle your stomachs—"

Buffy smiled at how thoughtful Savannah was. "We're fine, sweetie. Just give us a moment to … get used to it."

The sisters peered around the room. It was midday and sunny outside, but only a faint glow shone through the window above, illuminating a scant few feet of dust motes. As their noses adjusted, their eyes did too, and they could see that they were in a hallway, barren except for neatly stacked crates. The hall was tidy, clean even. The smell seemed to come from a closed door down the hall, opposite the stairs leading up to the second level.