Chapter Eight – Carter

 

“Blond, maybe five-eleven. British accent, I thought at first, but the more I think about it, Irish. And a rat.”

“Shit,” Kris breathed into the phone. “You’re sure he was Irish?”

I’d always been shit with accents. Lucy had been the one to point out the Irish part on the way over here, and I was inclined to agree with her. Now, she was off talking to her friend Clarissa at the hotel’s front desk so quietly that even I could barely hear her, while I stayed here by the elevators, my duffel bag of hunter’s tools hanging at my side from my other hand. It was loaded for bear with weaponry, and topped off with some spare clothing.

“Yeah. One hundred percent.”

“Dammit,” Kris said. On the other end of the line, she took a drink of something, then set it aside. “Sounds like you just described Phillip Winters. Know who he is?”

I shook my head, despite the fact that she couldn’t see it. “No. Tell me about him.”

“Ex-IRA, got his start on the tail end of the Troubles, back in the mid-90s. Stayed on with them till the early 2000s, when the IRA more or less officially disarmed in ’05. Ran into him in Shanghai once, about ’09, had a drink with him.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Just a drink,” Kris quickly clarified. “I could smell bad news on that guy like a tabloid.”

“Been around a while then, huh?” I hadn’t even joined the Navy until right around then. “What’s an IRA soldier want in Shamrock?”

“Other than the name association?”

“Yeah, bad puns aside.”

“No idea. Last I heard, he was running security out in Dubai for westerners working in the UAE. Steering clear of anything related to the criminal stuff, now.”

“What was he doing before that?”

“Security, gambling, arms dealing. Little bit of this, little bit of that. Never a hitter, though.”

“You know an awful lot about a guy you just had one drink with.”

“I took my time sipping my cocktail,” she nearly growled. “Besides, I pulled the file on him after that, just to see what kind of things he was into.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing of interest to the PRB. Not at the time, at least.”

I scratched my beard idly as I watched Lucy hug her friend Clarissa, grip her upper arms tightly, then go back in for another one. “At the time,” I repeated. “Interesting.”

“Anyway,” Kris continued, “you keep your head down while I have Tabitha look into it.”

“Keep my head down? What’re you smoking? Whatever’s going on here, I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

She sighed, shifted the phone around. “Not even for a couple days while we try to figure this out?”

“Four people are dead, Kris. Four people. You sent me up here to investigate what’s going on, not to hang out in a hotel room while there are hit squads roaming the city.”

“Carter, if this is Winters, you’re dealing with a real pro, here. You need to be careful.”

“Thought you said he isn’t a hitter.”

“No, I said he wasn’t when I met him before. Times change. Look at us, for instance.”

“Yeah,” I replied, eyeing Lucy as she turned away from Clarissa and started to head my direction, briefcase in hand. She was even more beautiful in person, with that kind of tomboy, girl-next-door vibe. The type of woman who might actually appreciate a cabin in the woods. Waking up early, taking hikes around the property, or out into the park forest. A woman you’d want to curl up with on the couch as we watched the first snowfall coming down through the trees, like tufts of the clouds themselves descending on the land all around us.

Shoulders pushed back, her chin lifted like she was daring the world to try and give it to her in the kisser with its best shot, just so she could laugh right back at it. And, damn, the way those full hips of hers swayed with every step of her powerful stride.

And, God, the way she smelled. Maybe it was her body wash, or the sodas that had exploded all over me back in the convenience store. But, something about her smell just made me want to inhale more of her. Vanilla, with a hint of raspberry. The whole ride here, with her driving the Jeep, she’d been in my nose like I’d stuffed both nostrils full of her.

As she came walking up, it hit me. I’d let her drive my Jeep, even after we’d gotten clear of the hitters. I never let anyone drive my jeep. Period.

Shit, Kris was right. Times sure did change.

“Carter?” Kris asked. “You with me?”

I blinked my way back to the world, turning away from the vision walking towards me. “Yeah, sorry. I’m here.”

“All right,” my nominal boss said. “First thing’s first, you get settled, then wait to hear from me with what Tabby finds. Hear me?”

“Carter?” Lucy asked from behind me.

I turned around, and smiled a little at Lucy. “Yeah, sure,” I lied to Kris. “I hear you.”

She didn’t respond for a moment. “Carter,” she said finally, a note of warning to her voice, “you’re not just telling me what you think I want to hear, are you?”

“What?” I asked. “Never. Listen, I gotta go.”

“Carter, be careful. Or I swear to God, I’m going to come up there and kill you my—”

“Uh-huh, Kris,” I said, cutting her off. Then, just before I hung up: “Have a good night.”

“Problems on the home front?” Lucy asked, looking up at me with those gorgeous green eyes of hers. The kind of eyes you could fall into, if you let yourself.

“What? On the phone?”

“Yeah. She pissed at you or something?”

“No, not my girlfriend. My boss. And, probably. Seems she’s always pissed at me or one of the other guys for something.”

She raised an eyebrow and nodded a little. “Oh.”

“We’ve worked together a long time. It’s, uh, complicated.”

“Complicated, huh? You know what they say about dipping your pen—”

“Not that kind of complicated,” I snapped, feeling immediately awful when I saw the look on her face.

“Touchy much?”

“It’s more like a brother and sister fighting. Not the other kind.” I sighed. “Rooms?”

“Room. Singular. Unfortunately. One bed, too.”

Great. Now where was I going to go through my gear? How was I supposed to explain silver bullets, stakes and holy water, and all the salt I had in my bag? Putting everything on display was just going to raise even more questions, questions I didn’t have answers for. Not unless I wanted to pull Lucy even more deeply into this.

And that was the last thing I wanted. Col. Harrington was a rarity, in that he was a human who’d survived long enough to almost retire from this gig. That was part of the reason that he’d approached shifters about joining the PRB. You might say our survivability index was higher.

I must have frowned a little without realizing it, because Lucy immediately continued on. “But, you know, it won’t be a big deal. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll take the floor. I won’t be sleeping much tonight, anyways.”

Maybe I could go through everything while she slept? I didn’t know for sure if that would work, but it was worth a shot.

She went to the elevator, pressing the call button as she looked back over her shoulder at me. “You sure? You don’t have to play tough guy, here. I used to haul men your size out of burning buildings all the time. Put some smoke in the air, everyone goes down just the same.”

I laughed a little as I joined her to wait for the elevator car. “I can hardly ever sleep when I’m out in the field like this. Maybe ten minutes here, fifteen minutes there. You should really spare your back and take the bed.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied as the elevator pinged its arrival and the doors slowly slid open. We stepped inside, and she hit the button for our floor as I leaned against the back of the car. She stood there in front of the control panel, her arms crossed in front of her as she fixed me with that uncompromising gaze of hers. “You know, Carter, you seem like a pretty all right guy. Hell, you probably saved my life back there. Definitely saved it, actually.”

I nodded as the elevator rose into the sky, the winch above us spinning as we crawled steadily higher up to the third floor. “Just doing what’s right, that’s all.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes turning from mine and going to the floor as she shuffled her feet a little. “And I can appreciate that, doing what’s right. Because that’s all I’m trying to do when it comes to figuring out this whole mess.”

I sighed, hung my head a little.

“I think you know what’s going on here. More than I do, or anyone else in town, at least. I don’t know how I know, or why I even trust you enough to lock myself in a hotel room with you, but I do.”

I didn’t respond. I mean, what could I say? She was right. But she wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell her the honest truth. She’d think I was out of my mind, and just end up running the opposite direction, something that would just make her an easier target for Phillip Winters and his crew. And she said she trusted me, even after only an hour of knowing me.

But would she trust me if she knew what I really was? And why I was really in Shamrock?

Before the silence could drag on any further, though, the elevator chimed that we’d reached the third floor. The doors slid open, and I headed out first, looking both ways up the hallway to check where the stairway exits were, and to verify they were clear of any assailants. Mostly out of habit. I didn’t really believe Phillip Winters or any of his team was waiting for us up here.

Not unless, of course, they had some kind of psychic with them.

Which was a whole other can of nightcrawlers I didn’t want to deal with.

I’d worked with one back in the PRB days, a guy on loan from a German organization. Name was Hans, and playing poker with him had been a miserable exercise in failure.

Lucy brushed past me and headed to the right, hotel key card already in hand. “314,” she said as I started after her. Together, we went down the hall and stopped at the sixth door on the right. “This is the place.”

I glanced up and down the hall again, just to be safe. Four rooms down was the fire exit to the stairwell.

Before I could finish scoping things out, Lucy had already opened the door and strolled inside.

I turned, almost snapping something about needing to be safer, but thought better of it. After all, I was just being paranoid.

The room was standard. A full size bed, a bathroom, a TV on a credenza pressed against the wall, a small table with a couple chairs off to the side, and the nightstands. Set in the far wall was a large picture window, with heavy near-blackout curtains hanging to either side.

I went over and set my bag on the table with a thud.

Lucy shot me a look. “What’s in there, anyways?”

“Just some extra gear,” I said, not really lying, as I crossed over to the windows and drew the curtains closed. I’d be damned if someone managed to spot us, even three stories up, by random chance.

“Right,” she said, going over and sitting down on the end of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She set her briefcase down beside her on the bedspread, and looked around the room for a moment as I took my holster from my hip and set it on the small table. I pulled out one of the two chairs and went to sit. After a short moment of silence, she finally spoke. “You know, Carter, I almost believe you about the whole private investigator thing. Almost.”

“What?” I asked, readjusting so I could reach my back pocket and pull out my wallet. I flipped it open and drew out my investigator license for Missouri, offering it to her by stretching out so it was just within her reach. “You need some more proof?”

She took the card from my hands, looked it over. She glanced up at me before handing it back. “Full Moon Security, huh? You guys do a lot of fire investigations, then?”

I shrugged as I stuffed my wallet back in my jeans. “Enough, I guess.”

She nodded. “So what do you think it was, then? That started the fire?”

I sat back in the chair, trying to go through everything I remembered from my state exams. It had been a couple years. It wasn’t like I could tell her what I thought the actual reason for the fire was. I didn’t think she’d really buy the whole demon thing. “Well,” I started slowly when I saw the way she was looking at me, the way she’d crossed her legs and was bouncing her foot, “I mean, I was only in there for a minute, and I didn’t have much of a chance to read over the file from the insurance company before I came up here.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“Well, it strikes me as odd that they wouldn’t contact someone more local to investigate this.”

“Strikes you as odd?” I asked, running a hand back through my dark hair. I flashed her the best smile I could, given the circumstances. “Think of how I feel.”

She didn’t buy it. “Uh-huh.”

I sighed. “Look, I saved your life. Think I want to be hiding out here any more than you do? Or getting shot at, for that matter? I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this, same as you.”

That much was true. Figuring out exactly what was going on, and putting a stop to everything, was at the top of the agenda. Right alongside making sure Lucy stayed safe and sound.

“Tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t you take a shower, and get a change of clothes? We’re stuck here for the night, right? No reason why you should be sticky, too.”

I sniffed, this time catching a whiff of orange soda that had gone down my back. I could feel the sticky film of the sugary beverage on me, grimacing a little when I realized it had gone down onto my chest. “Yeah, you’re probably right. A shower sounds like a good idea. Are you going to be fine out here alone?”

“No one even knows we’re here,” she said. “No one. Clarissa kept us off the books, and your Jeep’s parked back by the dumpster.”

“Still…”

“I’ll make sure the chain’s on the door. Promise.”

“All right,” I said, still a little wary that I was going to be in the shower for even five minutes. I didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone out here, that was for sure. I unzipped my duffel, careful not to reveal any of my hunter’s tools, before immediately zipping it back up again.

I went into the shower, closed the door behind me, and started to fiddle with the knobs on the bath. It was one of those ones where you were always uncertain whether the water was going to come out scalding hot or ice cold. Finally, after what seemed like the most frustrating water testing ever, I got the damn thing settled where I wanted it.

The whole time I was getting ready, though, I couldn’t keep a sneaking thought out of my mind.

Firstly, that this whole affliction on the town of Shamrock was both stranger and more complicated than I had imagined.

And, secondly, that I was going to need Lucy Skinner’s help to get to the bottom of it.