The lawyer indicated the seating area. “Lord Donlon will be with you in a moment.” She walked over to a wet bar.
Of course, there was a wet bar. What else would there be in a man cave like this? Kathryn thought cynically.
“May I offer you a drink?” Turkova asked. “Or no, you probably can’t drink on duty, can you? We have water, or soft drinks?”
“Water would be nice. Thank you,” Kathryn said. Normally, she wouldn’t accept anything to eat or drink from a person she was about to question in relation to a crime. But first of all, she wasn’t certain a crime had been committed. Secondly, she had no evidence that Lucas Donlon was directly involved in her brother’s disappearance, and, in fact, doubted that he was. And finally, she was thirsty.
Magda retrieved a bottle of water from the under the counter refrigerator and grabbed a glass from the overhead rack. “Would you like ice?”
“No, thank you. And I don’t need a glass. Just the bottle will be fine.”
Magda gave a brief smile. “My own preference, as well. I can rarely drink one of these things—” She held up the bottle. “—in a single sitting. I like to take it with me rather than throw it away.”
Kathryn took the proffered water. It was icy cold, the bottle slightly wet with condensation. “So, Ms. Turkova,” she began, but the woman interrupted her.
“Magda, please. We don’t stand on ceremony.”
“But you do have guards.”
Turkova gave a dismissive shrug. “A necessary precaution for my lord’s security.”
Kathryn tipped her head to one side in curiosity. “You refer to him as lord. Is that a hereditary title of some sort?”
Magda laughed lightly, sounding genuinely amused. “No, not at all. Vampire society has a feudal structure, Agent Hunter. And Lord Donlon rules a substantial territory.”
“Feudal . . .” Kathryn repeated, thinking that if nothing else, she’d gain substantial knowledge about vampires from this visit. “Do his subjects—”
“Not subjects. His people. We have made some concessions to the modern age.”
“Of course. His people. But if the system is feudal, do they tithe to him?”
“Naturally. He protects them, defends them from both humans and other vampires. He also runs a considerable corporate empire, which I’m sure you know. Many of his people work for him directly, others he underwrites. Lord Donlon is a businessman, a very successful businessman.”
“I see.”
“And you, Agent Hunter, what brings you to South Dakota? I know for a fact that you are not based out of our jurisdictional field office, which is in Minneapolis.”
Kathryn chuckled, shivering intentionally. “Minnesota’s a little too cold for my bones. No, I work out of Quantico.”
“I see. And what does Quantico want with Lord Donlon?” Magda’s tone was just as casual as it had been, but her gaze was abruptly intent. The lawyer emerging at last.
“I’ve made no secret of the reason for my visit, Ms. Turkova. I’m investigating the disappearance of someone. A photographer from California who was here to shoot the Badlands. He’s an artist of some repute and has friends in high places. Hence, the FBI’s interest in what normally would be a matter for state or local authorities.”
“I see. And what is this photographer’s name?”
Kathryn smiled, knowing that Turkova almost certainly knew Daniel’s name already. “I’m here to interview your client,” she said mildly, but firmly, “not you, and not to be interviewed by you, either. Is Lucas Donlon available?”
Magda bared her teeth in an unfriendly smile. She wasn’t as blatant about it as the sphinx-like guard had been, but Kathryn clearly caught sight of two delicate white fangs. “It never hurts to try,” she said.
“Understood,” Kathryn agreed.
Magda pulled a cell phone from her pocket and hit a number. “Agent Hunter is here,” she told someone, then disconnected and slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Lord Donlon will see you now.”
* * * *
Kathryn followed Magda Turkova out of the comfortable living room and down a long, tile-floored hallway. Turkova’s high heels tapped loudly on the hard surface, and all Kathryn could think of was how cold these floors must be in winter. This was South Dakota, after all. She’d never lived in any of the truly cold states, but she saw the weather reports like everyone else, and South Dakota was usually buried in snow for months at a time. The heating bill for this house must be cosmic. But she supposed if you could afford a place like this on a ranch this big, then you didn’t worry much about heating bills.
Turkova’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the ID and scowled, but she answered before it rang a second time.