Chapter 14 #2
“Vampire invisibility is a myth, along with most of the others, like the notions that we are bloodless and heartless.” He growled, silently conceding that the last one would probably apply to him.
“Sure, we can shape-shift and move at a speed that can deceive human vision, which is probably where the idea came from. But completely disappear? No. At least, not until fucking Matteus Kominsky managed it three fucking years ago.”
“Maybe he just flew so fast that he deceived the eye. Maybe he has set up home miles away from Motham in the mountains or further afield, like the Kominskys have always insisted.”
Oliver shook his head. “Tower Securities gargoyles were almost upon him when he disappeared without a trace. Gargoyle’s vision is 20:20, and every one of those gargoyles reported that one minute they had him surrounded and then, pffff.
Gone.” He snapped his fingers. “And because the human he kidnapped can’t recall anything, due to the blood rose trance he put her in, we have no idea what he told her beforehand.
” He growled, remembering the frustration of that case.
“Well as far as that AOx blood goes, we can only confirm it in two of the five cases, and that’s only from parental reports. We have no definitive proof yet.”
He cursed softly. “Damn it, the medical records would really help.”
“We could get a search warrant,” she reasoned.
He barked a laugh. “Meaningless pieces of paper as far as Tween is concerned.”
She sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
The waitress arrived with their drinks, and when she left Oliver said, “Blood being a factor in two of the five makes me even more convinced the Kominsky clan is behind this.”
“Maybe we should keep an open mind, sir.” He narrowed his eyes at her, and she blanched slightly but held his gaze. “I mean, the blood/vampire thing, it’s kinda an obvious connection. But we could miss something vital by hyper-focusing on that so early in our investigation.”
“Really?”
She shrugged, took a sip of her soda. “I’m just saying that tunnel vision could stop you considering other possibilities.”
He felt his facial muscles tighten. “Tunnel vision, eh?”
She shrugged. “Maybe you have personal reasons for wanting to get a Kominsky clan member.”
Damn right he did.
“Thank you for the analysis of my motives.” He gave her a dark look. “Alternatively, you could say that being a vampire gives me an advantage when it comes to seeing motives.”
“I suppose… maybe.”
Maybe. Gods above, was she purposely trying to needle him?
An awkward pause ensued. Oliver gulped down a mouthful of soda and wished he’d ordered a whiskey instead.
After a moment she said, “There is one other thing I need to share. Two things, actually. I’m pretty sure they’re vital evidence.”
“Fill me in.”
“Edward Bradshaw attended a seminar before he took the job in Motham, run by a human called Emmaline Shaw. His mom gave me her business card.” She placed the card on the tablecloth between them. “And I also found this.”
She laid a larger card next to it.
He took the business card, perused it. Then the other. An invitation to a cocktail meet and greet party. Same name on both cards: Emmaline Shaw, Humans4Monsters Recruitment. Kind of tacky, but probably effective marketing with hip human genZers.
He cocked an eyebrow. “So Edward’s mom gave you both?”
“No, just the business card.”
“Where did the second one come from?”
“I found it.”
“You found it? Where?”
She didn’t answer.
“Where did you find it?”
She wouldn’t meet his eye. “Clare?” he rapped out.
“In Natalie’s apartment,” she muttered, eyes downcast. “When we went there this morning.”
Oliver’s hackles rose. “Why didn’t you give it to me at the time?”
She shuffled in her seat. “I’m not sure. Maybe I didn’t think it was that significant.”
“I don’t buy that for a moment.”
She didn’t reply, started to pleat her napkin. Oh fuck, he had a fair idea, didn’t he? “Was withholding this information a way to get back at me?” he rapped out.
Her eyes flew to his face, her flushed cheeks giving him his answer, but then her lip curled, and she muttered, “Don’t flatter yourself. Sir.”
He felt the muscle in his jaw tighten. They both knew what they were referring to.
They had to get past this or it was going to fuck up the case. “Would it help if I apologized?” he said stiffly.
“For what?”
“My behavior… the night of the PD dinner.”
For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then she gave a small shrug. “It’s water under the bridge. Forgotten already.”
He leaned forward, the urge to touch her hand unbearable. “I have not forgotten. I never will.”
She didn’t look at him, but he felt the air thicken, a prickly heat spreading between them. His eyes fell to her neck. Seeing the small, fast pulse fluttering beneath the skin, lust and hunger flared within him.
“You want me to grovel, is that it, Clare? Beg your forgiveness on bended knee?”
“I want nothing from you, sir. I just want to get on with the case.”
“And yet you’re thwarting that by hiding information from me.”
“I was simply waiting for the right moment to tell you.”
Stung that she hadn’t even acknowledged his apology, he gritted out, “Damn it Clare, if you’d given me this invitation when you found it, we’d be further along than this.”
“Really?” She glared at him. “How so?”
“Don’t act dumb, it doesn’t suit you. I could have interviewed this Emmaline Shaw woman while you were in Tween today. You’ve lost us a day.”
“On the contrary, I think I’ve gained us a strategy.”
“Oh you fucking do, do you? Firing on all cylinders tonight, aren’t we Detective Doyle? In that case, why don’t I hand over the reins to you?”
“I don’t know, sir, why don’t you?”
He let out a low expletive and took another mouthful of soda. To his surprise, she spoke first.
“With due respect, I don’t think you interviewing Emmaline is the right approach. Sir.”
He slammed down his glass, flung himself back in his chair and glowered at her. “Please, do tell, what is the right approach then, Doyle?” he growled harshly. Yes, he was being a prick, but he was angry, and his usual iron composure was close to snapping.
She gave him a look like she’d sucked on a lemon.
If she dared, she’d stick her tongue out at him or give him a middle-finger salute, he was sure.
The thought dispelled his irritation momentarily, his lips almost twitching into a smile at the image.
A smile that her next sentence wiped away.
“Let me go undercover. It’s the best way to find out more. ”
“You! Undercover? No fucking way.” It was fear that gripped him, fear for her safety, but it came out like he was belittling her. And that’s clearly how she read it, because she jutted her jaw. “Hear me out. Sir.”
He wanted to bark at her, “Call me Oliver,” but that would be too reminiscent of that other night, the one neither of them could really acknowledge. Truth be told, there was also something about the way she addressed him as sir, petulant and challenging, that was a hell of a turn-on.
He shifted to minimize the action in his pants and gave a curt nod. “Go on.”
“I’ll pretend I’m a newbie human to Motham. This Emmaline woman doesn’t know me, and I can wear a full disguise. With a dark wig and make-up on, I’d look very different.”
Oh yeah, he knew how very different she could look. How seductive and mesmerizing she could be. “Then what?”
Her expression suddenly eager, she leaned over the table toward him.
“I’ll approach her company, tell her I’m job hunting and find out how to attend one of these meet-and-greet cocktail parties.
This one—” she tapped the card, “happened just three weeks before Natalie disappeared, and given that Edward had contact with the same company, I swear Humans4Monsters has got some link to their disappearance.”
“So you’re operating on a hunch.”
She gave him another sour smile. “Isn’t that how we detectives work?”
“And what if you’re right, and this Emmaline woman is somehow involved in the humans going missing. And suddenly our undercover agent goes up in a puff of smoke. Great move.”
“Bring it on, I say. I’ll be wearing monitors, so you’ll find out where I disappeared to.
At least let me do the initial groundwork.
” Her gaze met his, a tiny measure of pleading in amidst the stubbornness.
She wanted this so badly, and he couldn’t deny there was merit to her idea.
He thinned his lips. “I am not prepared to say yes or no at this stage. We’ll discuss it at tomorrow’s team meeting. ”
“Sure.” She sat back, looking smug, like she’d won. “So you’re not ruling it out?”
“I’m not ruling it out—yet.”
She nodded.
“In the meantime, I’m taking this evidence with me.” He picked up the business card and the invitation and shoved them into the interior pocket of his jacket. He tried for his sternest frown as he panned her face. “Can I trust you not to withhold information in future?”
“Yes. If you’ll trust me to pull off undercover surveillance—sir.”
He couldn’t help a smirk at her audacity. “Are you trying to bargain with me?”
“Just equalizing the power imbalance.” She smirked back, as their food finally arrived. He picked up his knife and fork and observed his thick, juicy steak.
She was a handful, Detective Clare Doyle—stubborn, smart, sassy.
Regardless of all the other tumultuous feelings she brought up in him, he had to admit he fucking admired her spunk.