Day Shift - Charlaine Harris Page 0,50

the same. Why did they call me in here?”

She was looking off into the distance. Her eyes went to his face. “Fishing expedition,” she said. “A waste of my time and your money.”

Manfred looked at her doubtfully. “My time is money, too,” he pointed out. He couldn’t help but feel a little offended.

“I’ll bet it’s not as valuable as mine,” she said.

And he was sure that when he got his bill, he would agree.

As he drove back to Midnight, Manfred thought about the bottom line on this little “fishing expedition.” The detectives didn’t know anything new, he hadn’t completely dispelled their suspicions—though he was convinced he’d weakened them—and he’d lost hours of work time.

On the plus side, he’d gotten to know his lawyer, and he found himself much more confident he’d stay out of jail.

Magdalena Orta Powell was not exactly what he’d expected, and he was pretty sure she felt the same about him.

15

Olivia had gotten a phone call from Lemuel during the middle hours of the night. Lemuel did not like the telephone, but he had overcome his natural aversion to call her because he knew it would make her feel better. The conversation had been brief.

“Olivia, I am now in New Orleans.”

She was silent for a second, dismayed at how relieved she was to hear his voice. “You learning a lot about the books?” she said, when her silence made her uncomfortable.

“I have found a woman who is knowledgeable. A female vampire.”

“Great. Are you feeling . . . Have you gotten enough food?” Olivia was always cautious about being explicit on the telephone. She knew how easily someone could listen in.

“There is abundance here,” Lemuel assured her. “I need only walk into a bar.”

She smiled. “And do you have an idea of how long you’ll be gone?”

“Not as of yet.”

“Then let me know when you’re coming back.” She hesitated. “It feels strange to walk past your apartment, since I know you’re not in it. It feels funny that you’re not here.”

“I miss you, too. Be careful and vigilant.”

“Good-bye.”

And he’d hung up without saying good-bye in return. That was Lemuel’s conversational style. She was satisfied with the conversation, though she had to repress a twinge of unease, bordering on jealousy, that Lemuel’s source for information about the long-lost and mysterious books was a female, and a vampire. Lemuel was more susceptible to women than men as bedmates, though he would take energy or blood from anyone except small children. Having two sources of sustenance was like being a hybrid car.

He preferred the energy, because it was easier and cleaner to acquire, and he could sip it from many people. Taking blood left an obvious mark, and sometimes a body, because it was certainly possible to get carried away on the odd occasion. In the same way, though he preferred sex with women, he’d had connections with men, he’d told her quite casually. “Weren’t too many women around,” he’d said, during her favorite together time—postsex. “And vampires like me don’t have the gift of the glamour.”

There had been a lot of questions Olivia had wanted to ask, but in the interest of appearing tolerant and sophisticated, she had not. And she had realized the next day, while Lemuel was in his day sleep, that no matter how curious she might be about Lemuel’s past and how he’d managed to live his life under his strange circumstances, the most important thing to her was that she had him now. Lemuel was not “hers,” like her car or her bed was hers. And she knew he would outlive her, barring extraordinary circumstances. But he was hers in a way no one else had ever been; that certainty gave her a fixed point.

Her cell phone rang, the secret one. The caller would be her agent or someone preapproved.

A man said, “Is this Rebecca?”

“I can get a message to her.”

“I have a job for her.”

“Who and where?”

“My bitch of an ex-wife has a family heirloom. She’s holding it for ransom. If I want it back, I have to make concessions in having my kids on the weekends. If I have it, I can tell her to go to hell and I’d see my kids more often.”

“I don’t need to know why. I need her name and address and a description of the item. Details about her routine.”

There was a pause. “Sure. Where can I send all that?”

Olivia gave him an address in Oklahoma.

“Okay. How do I pay you?”

“You already know that.” What was he