"What?"
"Can I see the bodies?"
"What the hell for?"
"Because I can tell you if a vamp really did them."
"The ME says—"
"The ME's in a hurry. Homeless girls don't make headlines. He sees a neck bite and blood and says vampire. Let me see the bodies, Eckhoff. I might be able to help, and you know I can talk to the vamps and Luci for you."
There was a long silence on Eckhoff's end. “Okay. But it'll have to be on the down low. I'll talk to my guy in the coroner's office and see what I can work out. You'll be reachable?"
"I'm pretty much stuck until sunset—"
"I don't even want to know why. Stick close to your cell. I'll call you when I've set something up.” He hung up without saying good-bye.
Cyn stood and brooded for a few minutes, staring at nothing, pissed that she was trapped in this stupid hangar. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Now she felt guilty. What if all those calls from Raphael's number were because of this whole vampire murder thing? What if it wasn't even Raphael calling, but maybe Duncan or someone else wanting her help in dealing with the human police? Maybe Raphael wasn't pining away for her, after all. And didn't that just suck big time?
She was going to have to call. And not only about the murders. Mirabelle would need Raphael's blessing to stay in California, which probably meant petitioning for his protection or something. The vamps were big on ceremony and tradition. Mirabelle would probably have to swear some sort of archaic oath, something involving blood, she was sure. All terribly gothic and portentous, but whatever it was, it had to be better than living as Jabril's private kick toy. None of which changed the fact that Cyn had to call Raphael. Maybe she could reach Duncan instead. “Fat chance,” she muttered out loud. Faint echoes mocked her from the heights of the empty hangar. She looked at her watch and nearly groaned. Hours yet to kill. She climbed the steps back into the plane and settled in to wait.
By the time Lucia called to say she was outside the hangar, Cyn couldn't get to the door fast enough. It had been nearly an hour since she'd spoken to Eckhoff. She had tried making lists of things to do, lists of clues to follow up, lists of people to talk to, lists of famous people she thought were dead. She'd even tried sleeping, for about two minutes. Finally, she'd pulled on her sweats and running shoes and had started doing laps around the interior of the stuffy building. When Luci arrived, she shifted her pattern and jogged over to the door to let her in, then stood there panting like a dog, one hand on her side which was beginning to ache.
Luci took in Cyn's sweat-soaked face and shook her head in amusement. “You couldn't find anything else to do with your time?"
"I couldn't sit still,” Cyn panted. “Too much on my mind."
"That's one excuse. Okay, I think I got everything you wanted and I brought some food, but...” She gave Cyn a raking glance, somehow managing to look down her wrinkled nose, even though she stood several inches shorter. “You might want to clean up before you eat."
"What'd you bring?"
"Sandwiches from Bruno's. You'd never know it from looking at you, but it's cold outside and I thought something hot would be good. Is there a shower around here?"
Cyn grinned. “Are you suggesting I stink?"
"I would never be so crude.” Luci stepped past, giving her shining black hair a quick toss. She looked around the empty hangar with a sigh, then shifted her glance from the jet back to Cyn, perfectly plucked eyebrows arching over dark, almond shaped eyes. “I guess we're eating in there?"
Cyn laughed and nodded. “It's pretty nice actually, and there's lots of cold drinks. Let me wash up.” She started toward the women's restroom, turning around to walk backwards and say, “Dean Eckhoff called me."
"So you know why I'm here,” Luci said grimly. “I can't get any of those bastards to talk to me. My kids don't mean shit to them."
"That's not true, Luce. Look, let me clean up and we'll talk."
Chapter Sixteen
Cyn licked tomato sauce from her fingers and groaned with pleasure. “God, that's good. I swear I haven't had any real food in days. Between staying up all night with that a**hole Jabril and chasing around a strange city trying to find someone with nothing to go on, I barely found time to grab a sandwich from room service. Although I did have some egg rolls or something in the hotel bar. Not what I expected from Houston, but...” She shrugged. “I guess I shouldn't expect a barbecue invite from a vamp, huh?"
"Hardly. Personally, I don't think I'd accept any dinner invitation from a vampire. I'd be too worried about what—or who—was on the menu. Especially me."
Cyn chuckled. “Don't believe the movies. Most vampires are pretty careful about consent these days.” She popped the last of her sausage sandwich into her mouth and used a handful of napkins to wipe the leftover grease and sauce from her fingers as she chewed. “So,” she said. “Eckhoff actually did call me because of your missing girls. Did you know the cops think a vampire's doing it?"
Luci frowned. “Why would they think that?"
"That's what I'm going to find out. Dean's going to get me into the morgue to see the bodies.” Luci grimaced in distaste, but Cyn continued. “I should be able to tell if a vamp killed them. Although I really doubt it. The vampire lords ride their people pretty tightly. Something like this could cause a lot of problems and no one wants that."
"Maybe it's some sort of internal vampire thing. You know someone who wants to cause problems."
Cyn shook her head. “Not that they don't hate each other's guts sometimes. Believe me, they're exactly like the rest of us in that. But this looks bad for everyone, not just one or two guys."