Chapter 31

Mysteries

Author's note: There's a direct quote from the Moonlight show in this chapter - see if you can spot it!

Intro Song: Dangerous, David Guetta

Evening was fading in New York, the velvety blue and gray shadows drifting toward black. The streets were still busy, but the shoulder-to-shoulder stampede of humanity occurring at the height of rush hour was no longer in evidence.

Durin Scanlin and his companions emptied onto the street from the high-rise building housing his luxury apartment. The last one out on the street was Gabrielle Sinclair, dressed for the meeting that had just ended in a black leather mini-skirt, long gray sweater, and tall, black leather boots. With her stylish outfit, glossy black hair, and beautiful face, she caught the attention of several of the young men passing by as she joined the group on the sidewalk. Their sidelong glances did not go unnoticed by the group's leader.

"Walk with me, Gabrielle." Scanlin motioned his newly-appointed entourage of assistants away. "Gentlemen, take cabs. We are going to walk."

They strolled a few blocks in silence, Gabby alert and on edge, her eyes constantly darting from Durin to the sidewalk and on to the street, then back. It would not do for him to be killed on her watch.

Finally, he broke the silence, looking down at her diminutive figure from his six foot, two inch height. "I have to admit, I've been impressed by your diligence and performance so far, my dear Gabrielle. I didn't know you cared."

She let out a short bark of laughter. "I don't care but it's my job. And I've only been in charge of your security for a few days. I don't think you know if I'm any good or not yet, Durin."

"Well, I'm still alive and unharmed. That's my definition of successful performance." He smiled slightly. "I would not have believed it possible, but I think you might be as hard on yourself as you are on me."

She shrugged. "I have a job to do. I let Victoria down; I don't want it to happen again - not even to you."

This elicited a genuine laugh from Scanlin. "You are nothing if not consistent, Gabrielle. You hate me honestly and thoroughly."

"I do try."

"You didn't always feel that way." Gabrielle decided to hold her tongue; there was nothing she could think of to say that wouldn't escalate the tension. Besides, what was done was done. She could hate him for it but it wasn't going to get her anywhere.

There was silence for another block, and then Durin spoke again, smoothing his thick, black hair back from his forehead with one hand. "You've sat in on all my meetings since Victoria handed the reins to me, but you have yet to say anything."

She raised her eyebrows at his observation, but remained silent.

He tried again, more bluntly this time. "All right, Gabrielle. Tell me. I know you have an opinion - you always have an opinion. You've been that way since you were a little girl." He stopped walking and put his hand on her arm, a gesture that caused her to halt abruptly and stiffen, her dark eyes flashing a warning at her sire.

He deliberately kept his hand in place, pressing her. "Come on, Gabrielle – I really want to know what you think. Why else do you suppose I invited you into these meetings in the first place? I could have just left you guarding the door…from the outside. But I want you on the inside. I want your opinion."

"Even if I don't agree with you?"

"Even if you don't."

"All right. Just remember, you asked for it." She took a deep breath. "I think you're an ostrich, Durin. A fucking ostrich with your head in the sand. You are ignoring the threat in front of us in your mad scramble to solidify your power and personal wealth and dissolve the vampire council. We may all die as a result." Gabby punctuated her outburst by jerking her arm away.

Scanlin blinked in the face of her intensity, his supreme self-confidence momentarily shaken. She's just letting her personal feelings toward me to get in the way of her objectivity, he convinced himself and regained the arrogant demeanor that Gabby hated.

"And, you, my dear, are a drama queen, as always. Victoria has been acting like Chicken Little for years - and her fear has rubbed off on you, I'm afraid. It's a shame, really, because I would like to give you a prominent role in our new organization – but you are no good to me as long as you persist in believing that we are all under this imaginary threat."

Gabby said nothing, but simply stared at him and shook her head.

He sighed, and said sarcastically, "All right, Gabrielle, have it your way. The world is full of monsters." He started moving again and Gabby hurried to catch up. They walked the rest of the way to his next meeting in silence.

That may be the truest thing you've ever said to me, Durin.

Mick snuck out of the bedroom, his personal demons not banished in the least by the lovemaking he had just enjoyed with Beth. In the routine they had established, he would usually stay with her for hours after she fell asleep, taking comfort from her presence and closeness, but tonight he was too restless.

He pulled on soft old sweat pants and crept down the stairs, making his way to his desk in the dark, pausing only to pour a glass of A-positive blood. There was no need for lights, guided as he was by familiarity with his surroundings and the extraordinary night vision of vampires.

Sitting down in front of his computer monitor, he stared at the display in front of him. Beth's smiling face and vivid blue eyes looked out at him from the screen, making him feel even more conflicted. "Dammit, Beth," he said to her image, "I wouldn't go if I had a choice." Shaking his head at the insanity of his arguing with a picture on a screen, he stroked the touchpad to access his e-mail account. Beth's face vanished as if she were angry with his response. "Go ahead, leave. Be that way." he muttered irrationally.

He started looking for any response from Ryder or Logan on their hunt for information about the New York case. A quick scan of his in-box revealed a single e-mail from Logan Griffen. About time. Mick clicked on the communication to open it on his screen, biting his lip and frowning as he read through the scant information. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit Logan's number.

As if he had been waiting for Mick's call, the curly-haired vampire picked it up on the first ring. "Hey Mick," he began, "how are you?"

"Peachy, Logan, just peachy. Listen, I'm reading this e-mail from you and Ryder - you said that you weren't able to pick up anything from rental car companies?"

"Nope, not a thing, just like we were afraid of. She could have had her own car, you know, and just driven from the city herself."

"Dammit." Mick's frustration was increasing with each dead end.

"Buuuuttttt...!" Logan drew out his sentence, relishing the opportunity to provide valuable intelligence to his friend. "But...how much do you love me?"

"I can't tell you how much I love you, but I can sure as hell tell you how close I am to staking you!" Mick growled. "What are you talking about, Logan?!"

Logan's sigh traveled through the airwaves to Mick's ear. "Way to kill the mood, Mick. Well, it was actually Ryder who found the info, so we have him to thank. He discovered that Renaissance had taken fingerprints of their employees who were going into people's homes. Guess they have to be bonded or something." There was no response from the P.I. Sighing, he continued, "Anyway, we missed that the first time we looked at the information we lifted, but Ryder went back through the file when he got frustrated that we were coming up blank on everything. He matched the fingerprints up with the FBI database and...BINGO! We got a match! How fucking cool is that?!"

"I don't know, Logan, how fucking cool is it?" Mick's patience was coming to an end. This isn't one of your video games... He immediately felt ashamed of the thought.

Logan had no idea what was going on and, for now, Mick did not intend to share any more than he had to, so his geek friend could be forgiven for not having the same sense of urgency he did. "I'm sorry, Logan, didn't mean to snap at you. That is great news. You and Ryder are doing a good job."

If he was affected by Mick's curtness, Logan didn't show it. "No problem, Mick. I do think we've uncovered something important, though. This woman is actually a nurse – or was one, believe it or not – and she did have a residence in New York, just not at the address on her application. Her name is Rebecca – but not Anderson. Her last name is..."

Mick drummed his fingers impatiently on the desktop while Logan shuffled through papers.

"Here it is. Her last name is Bledsoe. Now, we also found that she is married, but we haven't found the marriage license yet so I'm not sure if that's his last name too. There's no way to know where they got married and the databases for that are different in every state – and not even all counties in states connect with each other. We'll have to dig to get that. Or..." Logan suggested pointedly, "our good friends in New York could check the new address out. I'm just betting we'll find out what we need to know there."

"I'll talk to them. Did she have any criminal record?"

"Nothing, clean as a whistle."

"Seems odd." Mick was thinking out loud. "How do you go from no criminal past to murder overnight?"

"I wondered that too. We did check back six months for unusual munitions or silver purchases and haven't found anything yet – which I am assuming is a good thing." There was a long silence before Logan asked, "You know, you haven't told me much other than that it's connected to Sara Whitley's death. Should I be worried about more than a zombie apocalypse?"

Mick laughed. "Not yet. I think zombies should still be your main concern. Listen, good work. Tell Ryder that too, okay? Stay on it from your end. Check out all possibilities for a Rebecca Bledsoe - and go back a year on the munitions and silver."

"You got it, Mick."

"I'm going to have Josef transfer some money to you and Ryder for all this work - I know you've spent a lot of time on it." He wanted to make amends for his earlier gruffness and there was one sure way to do that with Logan... "How's World of Warcraft going, anyway? Any new developments?" His voice was teasing.

Logan sighed. "Not so good, I've been getting ambushed lately by..." He caught himself. The P.I. didn't fool him for a minute - he'd seen Mick's eyes glaze over before when he talked about the role-playing game. "Never mind. After all this, I'm thinking maybe I should switch over to 'Dead Rising' anyway." With that, he disconnected the call.

Hitting Josef's number next, Mick filled him in on the new developments. When he finished, the silence between them stretched and expanded until Josef finally thanked him and hung up. Mick stared at the polished screen of his phone as if looking for guidance. Any other time, Josef would have extended an invitation for him to come over and talk about the case in person, perhaps accompanied by brandy and cigars, or a glass of rare blood. Their friendship was still awkward, clearly not yet recovered from their argument over the San Diego case – and Beth's interference.

Looking back at his computer screen, he reached over to hit a button on his keyboard and Beth's face re-appeared. Staring into her eyes, he murmured, "Maybe I need to start preparing for the zombie apocalypse." He rubbed at his temples as if a headache had abruptly overtaken him. What he really wanted to do was return to Beth's bed, but his body was rebelling. What you want doesn't always matter... Turning off his computer, he rose to make his way to his freezer and the lonely oblivion that the cold would bring.

End Song: Mysteries, Indigo Girls