Blood and Sand
Page 64
He honestly wasn’t sure which answer he wanted. He decided to stick with murder and political manipulation. “The notes?”
“Beatrice noticed a pattern in the locations the bodies were dropped in. All the locations were within a few miles of Highway 8.”
Baojia nodded. “That fits with a big rig coming from Mexico.”
“And most of the women—the ones they’ve identified anyway—have been poor girls who came to Ensenada looking for work.”
“Waitresses?”
Giovanni said, “A lot of the families didn’t seem to know what the girls did. Or the police didn’t ask. She only has the reports they took. But most of them are from around Ensenada.”
“Easy prey for Ivan,” he muttered. An idea struck him as he looked at the map of the city. “If these girls are from the country, chances are many of them are devout. Is your priest friend coming? Why didn’t he come with his wife?”
He saw Giovanni smother a smile. “There might have been a fight. Or five. I sent the plane back for Carwyn almost immediately. He won’t be happy about traveling on it, but he’ll come if Brigid’s here.”
Baojia made a mental note to stay out of the way when that reunion occurred. He knew the reputation of the earth vampire who had left the priesthood. He didn’t want to stand between the immortal and his fire vampire of a wife if they were in disagreement.
“Why?” Giovanni asked. “What are you thinking?”
“There is a priest…” He pointed to a small church near the downtown area. “Here. He has a shelter for women. Abused. Prostitutes. Homeless. Anyone who struggles, really. I’m almost certain he knows about our kind. It would be suspicious for me to go speak to him now, but if your friend could, he might be able to learn something about these girls. If they were from the country, they might have gone to this church. And the priest might know what their situation was. Were they being coerced? Did their behavior seem odd? I don’t know if he would know anything about the elixir,ut this churc but if girls are disappearing, he probably would have noticed.”
“Good idea. I’ll have Carwyn get in contact with him when he arrives. I’ll be going through the rest of these to see if I can spot anything she missed. What is your plan for tonight?”
How perceptive for the fire vampire to realize he would grow restless poring over pieces of paper. “I am going to trail Rory. It’s ridiculous to think he knows nothing about this.”
Matt asked, “Do you think Ernesto knows?”
“I don’t think so, but he can be… careless.” Baojia shifted, uneasy about speaking of his sire in any unflattering way. “He’s an excellent politician, but he depends on others too much. When it was me giving him information, he could trust it. But Rory is not me.”
“Caspar mentioned Paula came last night,” Giovanni said.
“Yes.” He flipped through another pad of Natalie’s notes.
“Do you think—?”
“I don’t know what to think of my sister. I do not believe she would betray our sire. Neither would she choose to be suspicious of her mate.”
“And Ernesto?” Giovanni asked. “Does he know about this? Or is he turning a blind eye?”
“Ernesto will do what is good for Ernesto and those under his aegis. He’s no philanthropist to the general human population, but he doesn’t want to lose face, either. If he was getting the right information, he would see how bad this looks for him. Which is why I think he must be in the dark.”
“So… Rory?”
He gave a quick nod. “Rory. I’ll trail him tonight. Try to get a feel for what he’s doing with me gone.”
Matt said, “Be careful.”
“I will. Don’t tell Natalie where I’ve gone, and don’t let her leave the house.”
Matt looked like he’d be avoiding Natalie for the rest of the evening, based on his uncomfortable expression. Giovanni just shrugged and said, “No problem.”
Baojia nodded in approval. Maybe the Italian wasn’t so bad after all.
He was reassured to find that, other than household security, most of his protocols were still being followed. The businesses and clubs he’d been in charge of in LA still seemed to have the same guards stationed as he trailed Rory in the borrowed Mustang. He grimaced when he realized who Rory’s driver was. It looked like poor Luis had been demoted from running the club. He’d have to find a way to make it up to the young man.
Overall, his brother-in-law didn’t seem to be doing anything suspicious. It was the same boring routine Baojia had been in charge of for years. He made the rounds, collected the cash, and dealt with whatever minor problems the managers mentioned to him. He made one trip up to Malibu to rough up a marijuana grower who hadn’t paid Ernesto a distribution fee he owed, then he headed down PCH toward Long Beach.
Opening the windows, Baojia followed at a comfortable distance, knowing that Rory was probably heading to Ernesto’s yacht. He enjoyed the crisp ocean air whipping through the car and thought about what Natalie had said at the bar.
I miss fog sometimes. Miss the smell of the ocean. It smells like the ocean here, but not the right way. That probably doesn’t make much sense.
It made perfect sense to him. The ocean held a million scents. He remembered the smell of the ship he’d taken to America. Even though the human memory was old, it wasas the vivid. He remembered the smell of the fog off San Francisco Bay, and the first memory of waking as an immortal. He’d been near the ocean, and the smell of it—the kelp and crab, cold northern currents, and cypress-scented fog—clung to his mind like some persistent ache.
“Beatrice noticed a pattern in the locations the bodies were dropped in. All the locations were within a few miles of Highway 8.”
Baojia nodded. “That fits with a big rig coming from Mexico.”
“And most of the women—the ones they’ve identified anyway—have been poor girls who came to Ensenada looking for work.”
“Waitresses?”
Giovanni said, “A lot of the families didn’t seem to know what the girls did. Or the police didn’t ask. She only has the reports they took. But most of them are from around Ensenada.”
“Easy prey for Ivan,” he muttered. An idea struck him as he looked at the map of the city. “If these girls are from the country, chances are many of them are devout. Is your priest friend coming? Why didn’t he come with his wife?”
He saw Giovanni smother a smile. “There might have been a fight. Or five. I sent the plane back for Carwyn almost immediately. He won’t be happy about traveling on it, but he’ll come if Brigid’s here.”
Baojia made a mental note to stay out of the way when that reunion occurred. He knew the reputation of the earth vampire who had left the priesthood. He didn’t want to stand between the immortal and his fire vampire of a wife if they were in disagreement.
“Why?” Giovanni asked. “What are you thinking?”
“There is a priest…” He pointed to a small church near the downtown area. “Here. He has a shelter for women. Abused. Prostitutes. Homeless. Anyone who struggles, really. I’m almost certain he knows about our kind. It would be suspicious for me to go speak to him now, but if your friend could, he might be able to learn something about these girls. If they were from the country, they might have gone to this church. And the priest might know what their situation was. Were they being coerced? Did their behavior seem odd? I don’t know if he would know anything about the elixir,ut this churc but if girls are disappearing, he probably would have noticed.”
“Good idea. I’ll have Carwyn get in contact with him when he arrives. I’ll be going through the rest of these to see if I can spot anything she missed. What is your plan for tonight?”
How perceptive for the fire vampire to realize he would grow restless poring over pieces of paper. “I am going to trail Rory. It’s ridiculous to think he knows nothing about this.”
Matt asked, “Do you think Ernesto knows?”
“I don’t think so, but he can be… careless.” Baojia shifted, uneasy about speaking of his sire in any unflattering way. “He’s an excellent politician, but he depends on others too much. When it was me giving him information, he could trust it. But Rory is not me.”
“Caspar mentioned Paula came last night,” Giovanni said.
“Yes.” He flipped through another pad of Natalie’s notes.
“Do you think—?”
“I don’t know what to think of my sister. I do not believe she would betray our sire. Neither would she choose to be suspicious of her mate.”
“And Ernesto?” Giovanni asked. “Does he know about this? Or is he turning a blind eye?”
“Ernesto will do what is good for Ernesto and those under his aegis. He’s no philanthropist to the general human population, but he doesn’t want to lose face, either. If he was getting the right information, he would see how bad this looks for him. Which is why I think he must be in the dark.”
“So… Rory?”
He gave a quick nod. “Rory. I’ll trail him tonight. Try to get a feel for what he’s doing with me gone.”
Matt said, “Be careful.”
“I will. Don’t tell Natalie where I’ve gone, and don’t let her leave the house.”
Matt looked like he’d be avoiding Natalie for the rest of the evening, based on his uncomfortable expression. Giovanni just shrugged and said, “No problem.”
Baojia nodded in approval. Maybe the Italian wasn’t so bad after all.
He was reassured to find that, other than household security, most of his protocols were still being followed. The businesses and clubs he’d been in charge of in LA still seemed to have the same guards stationed as he trailed Rory in the borrowed Mustang. He grimaced when he realized who Rory’s driver was. It looked like poor Luis had been demoted from running the club. He’d have to find a way to make it up to the young man.
Overall, his brother-in-law didn’t seem to be doing anything suspicious. It was the same boring routine Baojia had been in charge of for years. He made the rounds, collected the cash, and dealt with whatever minor problems the managers mentioned to him. He made one trip up to Malibu to rough up a marijuana grower who hadn’t paid Ernesto a distribution fee he owed, then he headed down PCH toward Long Beach.
Opening the windows, Baojia followed at a comfortable distance, knowing that Rory was probably heading to Ernesto’s yacht. He enjoyed the crisp ocean air whipping through the car and thought about what Natalie had said at the bar.
I miss fog sometimes. Miss the smell of the ocean. It smells like the ocean here, but not the right way. That probably doesn’t make much sense.
It made perfect sense to him. The ocean held a million scents. He remembered the smell of the ship he’d taken to America. Even though the human memory was old, it wasas the vivid. He remembered the smell of the fog off San Francisco Bay, and the first memory of waking as an immortal. He’d been near the ocean, and the smell of it—the kelp and crab, cold northern currents, and cypress-scented fog—clung to his mind like some persistent ache.
