Dark Rites. Heather Graham
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the attacks might be a way to distract law enforcement from what is really going on,” Griffin said.
“If you believe that, what do you think is really going on?” Rocky asked Griffin.
Vickie heard plates being set on a table. She figured that maybe Griffin and his friends hadn’t quite gotten through dinner. She hadn’t had much of a meal herself.
And they weren’t talking about her, didn’t even seem to be thinking about her...
She had to get over herself and just step out into the room.
She managed to do so. It didn’t go quite as well as she’d hoped, but then again, she had no control over the flare of heat that rose into her face.
Devin Lyle was sweet and charming and tried to pretend that she’d seen absolutely nothing when they’d come in. Rocky was just as circumspect. But then she could see that the man lowered his head and turned away, and that he was trying to keep from smiling when he looked over at Devin. But then Devin shook her head and gave Vickie a tremendous smile and said, “Hey, hi! Well, let’s try to get a bit more comfortable here! We’re so sorry...”
“So, so sorry!” Rocky agreed.
“On so many levels!” Devin said with a grin. “And even now, well, we have to mention the elephant in the room. Only way to clear it out. We are beyond sorry!”
“And, wow, envious,” Rocky said.
“What?” Devin demanded. “Hey!”
“I’m referring to the fun of it, my love,” Rocky assured her. “What a cool thing to have thought of to do for someone after a hectic night,” he added.
Devin grinned and looked at Vickie. “There you go—the pressure is on!”
“So, anyway, we’re all good?” Griffin asked Vickie hopefully.
“Terrific,” she said, deadpan.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Griffin said.
“I’d leave it,” Devin told him sagely. “Take whatever you can get right now!”
“Yep, just leave it for now,” Rocky said. “Anyway, for the last time, please forgive us the invasion. We were going to head straight to Griffin’s apartment and go to bed. Then we figured we’d talk among ourselves, see if we got anywhere, over a midnight snack. We never ate. The night became very long and convoluted.”
“Because, of course, there’s what happened,” Devin said.
“And the fact that your friend Alex is now missing. You still haven’t heard from him, right?” Rocky asked.
“No,” Vickie said.
“We’ve made sure that we—as in the Bureau, and especially the Krewe of Hunters—are involved at every level,” Griffin told her seriously.
“FBI participation? In investigating the attacks, the death of the man tonight—or with the disappearance of Alex?” Vickie asked. “As far as I know, everything that has happened has happened within the state. And we’re not looking at murder here.”
“We may be looking at a kidnapping,” Devin said.
“Rules and protocol have changed,” Griffin said. “You know, Vickie, that all kinds of boundaries and jurisdictions changed after 9/11.” He turned toward the counter and she saw that he’d brewed coffee. It was late for coffee, but she doubted that it would keep any of them up.
“Here,” Vickie murmured, moving forward. She went to get mugs. Griffin opened the refrigerator and drew out sandwich makings.
“The FBI even does more on foreign soil,” Devin murmured. She looked at Vickie and asked, “May I help with anything?”
Vickie laughed. “I’m not even sure what Griffin is doing.”
“This is it, I’m afraid,” Griffin said. “Sandwiches, chips...”
“A gourmet buffet at this point!” Rocky said. He took a plate of cheese from Vickie and told her, “Roles change, and it’s often good—we’re sometimes involved with cases that concern just one state or area—or the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, as it is here. It can be a really good partnership, especially when the local police want help and are ready to become part of a task force with a lot of cooperation.”
Vickie poured the coffee, taking her own cup and sinking into a chair at the table. “Well, naturally, I’m delighted that you’re all on this—whatever this is. You’re working with Detective Barnes? And everything is going well?”
“Fine—I like Barnes,” Rocky assured her. He seated Devin and then he and Griffin took chairs at the table, too—and dug in. The three were obviously hungry. “He seems to be a very good man. Comfortable and assured—and not in the least daunted by the feds. But then, you’ve already worked with him, right?”
“Yes, during the Undertaker thing,” Vickie said.
“Doesn’t hurt to have a precedent set,” Rocky said.
“So, do you know who the man was tonight—the man who killed himself when Griffin caught him? Was he the one who hurt Alex Maple before? And if so, why is Alex still missing?”
“I admit that no one can reach him, but are you still convinced that Alex is missing?” Griffin asked her. “Even Barnes helped us start a report before it’d normally be done.”
“I haven’t known Alex that long, but I do know him pretty well. He didn’t show for dinner. I really believe that if he could, he would have found a way to have called me by now,” Vickie said. “I am seriously worried.”
“We have people checking the local hospitals,” Devin said.
“And the morgue, of course,” Rocky added.
Devin nudged him hard.
“Hey, it’s all...necessary,” Vickie murmured.
“I know that Barnes said he’d call us, but...” Devin said, looking at Griffin.
“I’ll go ahead and call him,” Griffin said.
He dialed. Vickie listened, looking at him hopefully.
“Have they found anything?”
“They’re still tracing the phone. Alex is not home. His landlord opened the apartment and he wasn’t there. Also, there was no sign of a struggle in his apartment,” Griffin told her. “They’ve checked with every hospital—and the morgue. No sign of Alex.”
Vickie nodded. “Thank goodness for that, anyway,” she murmured.
“So far, people have been attacked in the street,” Devin said. “Are we assuming that the same perps who struck Alex Maple so hard they could have killed him have now kidnapped him?”
“I know it sounds strange, but let’s face it—everything to do with these attacks is strange,” Vickie said. “Here’s why I’m scared that what you’re saying just might be what happened, Devin. There was a great deal of publicity about the attack when Alex was hurt. There was information about him on every channel, in every newspaper and on the web, as well. Alex is young and brilliant. He may know more about Massachusetts history than just about anyone else alive. What if...?”
Griffin looked up from his sandwich, considering Vickie from across the table. “What if whoever is doing this needs someone who knows the ancient lore of Massachusetts?”
“It doesn’t explain the random attacks, really,” Vickie said, looking at Griffin earnestly. “But from the beginning, those attacked had the same historical words written on them. So whoever is behind this is making a statement. Alex was the first victim—the press and media went wild with the story. Details about Alex were shared with just about everyone. He was happy at first—it was nice to be recognized as one of the