12

 

Lack of sleep was finally catching up with him. After all, he hadn’t slept a wink the day before, and despite consuming a larger amount of blood than normal, John knew he needed some shut-eye. But before he could go home and rest for a few hours, he had to make a few phone calls and pay somebody a visit.

He’d stopped at Scanguards’ office in the Mission an hour before sunrise to use their system to run background checks on the babysitter and the neighbor, and made sure nobody saw him. He was supposed to be training Benjamin and Damian, not letting them run loose in the city. Explaining why they weren’t with him wouldn’t be easy.

His observations of the babysitter and the neighbor hadn’t yielded any useful information yet, and he wasn’t putting too much stock into the background checks either. But he needed to be thorough.

After shift change, when the vampires had left the building, he was able to get a few other things taken care of, before he snuck out of Scanguards’ underground garage and headed for Cow Hollow and the Marina. The rays of the rising sun couldn’t penetrate his car, so he was safe.

As soon as he’d merged into traffic, he called Benjamin, who picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, John, I was just about to check in.”

“Good, give me an update.”

“So this Rachel, she’s a bit of a flake.”

“How so?”

“She called in sick the last two days, but she isn’t sick at all.”

“Where is she?” John asked with interest. Had she fled after Buffy’s kidnapping?

“Oh, she’s home. But not alone. Looks like a private party involving drugs and sex. Not sure about the rock ‘n’ roll.” Benjamin chuckled.

John grunted. “Sounds like somebody using her boss’s absence to get away with skipping work, not like somebody involved in a kidnapping.”

“Possible,” Benjamin said, “but the shit they’re snorting ain’t cheap. I counted quite a few lines of coke. You said to check out anything odd. And considering that the guy she’s with drives a rust bucket, I can’t see where he got the money to pay for that stuff. She makes good money; I found her pay stubs, but from the credit card statements I saw, it looks like whatever she makes she spends just as quickly.”

“You were inside her place?” John asked, not without admiration. Benjamin showed promise.

“Yeah, I picked the lock when the two were passed out. Nobody saw me. I made sure of it.”

“Good work. Stay on her and follow her if she leaves the house today,” John ordered. “Have you run her background check yet?”

“Sent it through the system a little earlier. Haven’t got it back.”

“Thanks. Call me when you have any news.”

“Yep.”

John disconnected the call and dialed Damian’s number.

The older twin answered immediately. “Morning, John, still up?”

“Barely,” John replied. “Anything I should know?”

“So I’ve been checking out this Alexi guy all night. Total geek. He’s got every cliché down pat: gets home, orders pizza, and spends all night playing computer games or something. Boring as shit, I tell you. No girlfriend from what I could tell. No surprise there. But then I checked out his background, and listen to this.”

John involuntarily straightened in his seat. “Yeah?”

“He’s Russian. Did you know that?”

“I didn’t.” His last name, Denault, didn’t sound Russian at all, though his first name certainly did.

“Yeah, parents are Russian, he grew up in St. Petersburg. Apparently the grandfather was French.”

“Well, that explains the non-Russian last name.”

“Speaks fluent French. Came to the US on a work visa five years ago, started working for Google, but left. Not sure yet why. I’ll try to find out. But I digress. The point is he’s Russian. And you said we’re looking for a child trafficking ring. And who runs those kind of rings?” Damian made a dramatic pause. “The Russians.”

“Bit of a stereotype, but let’s go with it.” It was at least a start. “What’re your next steps?”

“I’ll look into his connections, see who he meets, who he talks to, who he corresponds with. And I’ll check out why he left Google and came to work for Ms. Rice.”

“Good. If you need help, coordinate with your brother. And check if this Alexi owns any properties anywhere. You know, where he could hide the children.”

“I was gonna do that,” Damian quickly shot back a bit defensively.

“Uh-huh.”

“I was. Honestly! You’re not gonna use that as a minus point in my eval, are you?”

“Don’t worry too much about your evaluation. Just get the job done. This is a team effort. Don’t forget that. The goal is to find the girls. The methods don’t matter. You find the girls, you pass the test. Even if you stumble on the way. Clear?” It never hurt to encourage Damian and dangle a reward in front of him.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, good work so far. Call me as soon as you’ve got something. I’ve got one more errand to run and then I’m gonna get a few hours of shut-eye. But if anything comes up, wake me.”

“Sure thing.” Damian disconnected the call.

At the next red light, John turned right, and only once he was halfway down the block, did he realize where his subconscious had taken him. He was outside of Savannah’s condo. He let out a mirthless laugh. He was one sick son of a bitch. After practically mauling her the night before, he was back at the scene of the crime, hungering for more.

He brought the car to a stop and looked up at the windows on the second floor. Though it was still early, he saw a movement behind one of the windows. Was Savannah in the kitchen, making breakfast? What would it be like to be there with her, to watch her as she made coffee, perhaps still dressed in her bathrobe, naked underneath? Would she interrupt her task if he pulled her into his arms, opened the belt of her robe and touched her? Would she allow him to pull her onto his lap on a chair? Would she ride him right there, in the middle of the kitchen, impaling herself on his rock-hard cock, not stopping until he shot his seed into her?

His hand went to his crotch. Fuck! He was hard as granite. And confined to his car. There was no garage he could use to access Savannah’s flat without exposing himself to the burning rays of the morning sun. Sexual frustration coursed through him. However, he knew it was better this way. Even if he could safely reach her flat, he shouldn’t, even if there was a spark of attraction between them. Savannah was in a vulnerable position, full of fear for her daughter’s safety, consumed with pain. He had no right to take advantage of a woman like that, even if he didn’t want to harm her, but soothe her, give her comfort.

Before he could stop himself, he was already dialing her number. When she didn’t answer on the second ring, he wondered if he’d only imagined the movement behind her window, his imagination playing tricks on him. He was about to disconnect the call, when there was a click on the line.

“Yes?”

He swallowed. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. “Savannah, it’s John. John Grant,” he felt obliged to say. Who knew how many men named John she knew?

“John.” There was a breathless quality to her reply. “Do you have any news? Did you find something?”

The hope he heard in her voice, the confidence she seemed to have in him, tore at his heartstrings. If only he could give her something that would help her believe that she would get Buffy back.

“Nothing much yet.” He closed his eyes.

“Oh.” Disappointment oozed from this one syllable.

“But we have a possible lead.”

“What kind of lead?”

“It’s too early to tell.” He didn’t want her to act awkwardly around Alexi, alerting him in any way, should he really have something to do with Buffy’s disappearance. “My team and I are following up on it.” At least that wasn’t a lie. “This is just the start. We’re looking at everything. We’ll find her.” He knew he was promising something he couldn’t guarantee. But Savannah needed to hear it. Needed to believe it.

“Thank you, John. I…” She hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” His gaze shot up to the windows of her flat, but he saw no movement.

“I’m scared. It’s been four days now.” There was a sniffling sound, as if she was trying to hold back tears. “I miss her. I miss my baby.”

“I’m doing everything I can.”

“I know that. I just wish there was something I could do. I feel so useless.”

He could only imagine what that feeling must be like and hoped never to have to experience it himself. “I’m sorry, Savannah. I know it’s hard. I know you love her. I will find her for you.”

A slow exhale came through the line. If she started to cry now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from running across the street, braving the sun to take her in his arms and comfort her.

“Please, Savannah, you have to hold it together. For Buffy.” And for me.

“I will. Please call me as soon as you hear something.”

“I promise.”

John disconnected the call and set the car in motion, before he could change his mind and do something irresponsible.

He left Savannah’s neighborhood and headed for Cow Hollow, a trendy neighborhood with high home prices and a large number of yoga-pants wearing yuppies, which had been his original destination before his subconscious had sent him in another direction.

The house was tucked away at the bottom of the Lyon steps, its garden backing up to the Presidio. Facing the street and taking up half the width of the lot, was a double garage. John stopped in front of it and let the engine idle, while he scrolled through his phone directory until he found the right contact.

He let it ring. Once, twice, three times. Finally, after the fourth ring, just before it could go to voicemail, a sleepy voice answered.

“During the day? Really, John?”

Deirdre didn’t sound too pleased about being awoken. He was planning to change that.

“I need to talk to you. It can’t wait. Open the garage for me.”

“You’re outside?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” A few seconds later, the garage door lifted. When it was completely open, he drove in and switched off the engine.

“I’m in,” he said into the phone.

There was a click in the line, then the garage door lowered behind him, shutting out the sun.

Moments later he entered the hallway that led to the living area and the kitchen. He waited there, when he heard footsteps on the wooden stairs leading to the second floor. He looked up. Deirdre, her hair in disarray, dressed in a long black robe, walked down the steps.

“This had better be good,” she said by way of greeting.

“It is,” he assured her.

She motioned to the kitchen and he walked there ahead of her. He’d been here a couple of times after she’d moved in, and had assured himself that the place was vampire-safe. All the windows had been retrofitted with UV-impenetrable film, blocking out the rays of the sun. The house was huge. Deirdre had money, lots of it. It tended to happen when one lived several centuries. Just a matter of compounding interest. But with all her money she couldn’t buy herself a purpose in her new life. He was about to change that.

“You want a drink?”

He shook his head. “I’m good. I’ll feed when I get home.”

She sat down at the kitchen table and he took the unspoken invitation and did the same. “I need your expertise.”

Deirdre raised an eyebrow, showing interest. Good.

“I’m working a case possibly involving a child trafficking ring. I’ve got a couple of people working on it besides myself, but there’s something that’s too sensitive to give to the others. So I thought of you.”

“Don’t trust your own men?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Damian and Benjamin. He did. But this had to be handled by somebody else. Somebody with more experience.

“You’re the better person for it.”

“Shoot.”

“I need you to do a thorough background check on the mother of the last girl that disappeared. Her name is Savannah Rice.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I need to know whether there’s anything about her that doesn’t gel.”

“You’ve met her?”

John nodded.

“So why not check her out yourself?”

He hesitated. There were plenty of reasons why he couldn’t do it. And the fact that he’d kissed Savannah and wanted even more than that from her, definitely played into it. “Let’s just say I’m too close to see everything. I need somebody who can look at her without prejudice.” Without lusting after her. Because if he performed a check on Savannah he was likely to dismiss something as insignificant, because he was already on her side. But it wasn’t how Scanguards worked. They always checked out their clients.

Deirdre reached for the envelope. “Too close, huh?” She cast him an assessing look.

John pointed to the envelope. “You’ll find a temporary access card for Scanguards in there. As well as my login information for the various systems you’ll need in the office.”

“Temporary access?”

John shifted in his chair. It was all he’d been able to rustle up behind upper management’s back. It was all the human staff that worked during the day had been authorized to issue without approval from the two co-chiefs of IT and Internal Security, Thomas and Eddie. Permanent access to Scanguards had to be vetted.

“If you do well on this case, I’ll be able to get you a permanent position.” What a lie. He hadn’t even spoken to Samson or Gabriel about Deirdre’s request yet.

Slowly, she nodded and opened the envelope, pulling out the access pass, a sheet with his usernames and passwords, and another one with the pertinent facts of the case and the person Deirdre needed to investigate. He’d briefly considered his actions when putting together the package, asking himself if he could trust Deirdre with all the sensitive information she would gain access to. But his gut had told him he would know if she betrayed his confidence. As maker and protégée they had a bond, albeit a tenuous one in their particular case.

The envelope also included a photo of Savannah, which he’d taken off her drivers license. Deirdre looked at it for a long while, and John couldn’t stop himself from looking at the photo too.

“Beautiful.” Deirdre suddenly lifted her eyes to him, and he wasn’t fast enough to tear his gaze away from the picture. Something in his protégée’s eyes flashed, and John realized that she was indeed a perceptive woman. A sly smile appeared on her lips. “Tell me what you want to know.”

“Everything. Acquaintances, habits, financials, whatever you can get your hands on. Use my office at Scanguards. You’ll find everything you need there.”

“When do you need it by?”

“Yesterday.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. Do I need a key to your office?”

“No. The access card will get you in. But make sure to be gone before sunset.”

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but didn’t comment. He appreciated that. She was discreet.

“I’ll be getting a few hours of sleep at home. Call me on my cell the second you find something that gives you pause.”

“Even if it means I have to wake you?” She smirked unexpectedly.

“You’re going to work extra fast, aren’t you, just so you can wake me? Isn’t that right?”

“I’m very good at this kind of work, you’ll see.” She patted the envelope. “But you know you need to bring me in on the other stuff too, right?”

“What other stuff?”

“When you find the bad guys and are ready to take them down. I want to be there. I want to help destroy the assholes who’re trafficking kids.”

John rose. “Don’t worry. When we get to that point—and I hope it comes soon—I’ll make sure you’re there and armed to the teeth.”

Deirdre rose and pulled the belt around her robe tighter. “I’m glad we understand each other. Now get out of here so I can get dressed.”

He nodded at her and left.

He knew he could trust Deirdre. She was a well-trained warrior, a woman who’d fought for her race for many centuries. She was no stranger to investigations, but first and foremost she had experience in reading people. She’d sat on a council for many decades, making decisions about life and death, and though one of these decisions had ultimately led to her exile, John wasn’t going to hold this one decision against her.

Just like he hoped that Savannah wouldn’t hold it against him that he was investigating her. It was only for Buffy’s sake. Savannah was in no frame of mind to tell him everything about her life that could have something to do with the kidnappers. It wasn’t even her fault. She wasn’t trained to see connections the way he was. Certain things would seem too insignificant to her to bother mentioning them. But he and Deirdre would see those tiny grains that could lead them to Buffy and the people behind the disappearance of all these girls.