"Ms. Thompson, if there is ever anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to call."
I started to automatically refuse, but then I stopped. "Are you really a reporter?"
He laughed. "Yes, but I don't cover celebrity sex lives. I'm an investigative journalist."
"You have ways of finding out about people?"
"Yes." He sounded intrigued.
"I need as much information as you can get on a man named Cory Littleton. He has a website. Fancies himself a magician. It would be particularly helpful if you could find out if he owns property in the Tri-Cities." That was a long shot, but I knew that Warren had checked out all the hotels and rentals. If Littleton was here, he had some place to stay.
He read the name back to me again. "I'll get what I can. It may take a few days."
"Be careful," I said. "He's dangerous. You don't want him to know you're looking."
"Is this connected to the trouble Mr. Cornick was telling me about?"
"That's right."
"Tell me how to contact you--probably an e-mail address would be best."
I gave him what he needed, and thanked him. Hanging up the phone, I noticed Gabriel's eyes on me.
"Trouble?" he asked.
Maybe I should have worked harder to keep Gabriel out of my world. But he had a good head on his shoulders, and he wasn't stupid. I'd decided it was easier to tell him what I could--and safer than if he went looking.
"Yes. Bad trouble."
"That phone call last night?"
"That's part of it. Warren's hurt badly. Samuel and Adam are missing."
"What is it?"
I shrugged. "That I can't tell you." The vampires didn't like people talking about them.
"Is he a werewolf?"
"No, not a werewolf." "A vampire like Stefan?"
I stared at him.
"What? I'm not supposed to figure it out?" He shook his head reprovingly. "Your mysterious customer who drives the funky bus painted up like the Mystery Machine and only shows up after dark? Dracula he isn't, but where there's werewolves, there certainly ought to be vampires."
I laughed, I couldn't help it. "Fine. Yes." Then I told him seriously, "Don't let anyone else know you know anything about vampires, especially not Stefan." Then I remembered that wouldn't be a problem. I swallowed around the lump in my throat and continued seriously. "It's not safe for you or your family. They'll leave you alone as long as they don't know you believe in them."
He pulled his collar aside to show me a cross. "My mother makes me wear this. It was my father's."
"That'll help," I told him. "But pretending ignorance will help more. I'm expecting a couple of phone calls. One from Tony and the other from Elizaveta Arkadyevna, you'll know her by her Russian accent." I'd intended to close the shop for the day, but I didn't have anything to do until Tony or Elizaveta called me back. If it had taken two weeks for Stefan and Warren to find the sorcerer, I was unlikely to find him by driving up and down streets at random. There are over 200,000 people living in the Tri-Cities. It isn't Seattle, but it's not Two Dot, Montana, either.
***
I couldn't concentrate on my work. It took me twice as long to replace a power steering pump as it should have, because I kept stopping to check my phone.
Finally, I broke down and called Zee again--but there was no answer on his phone. Elizaveta still wasn't answering her phone either, nor was Tony. I started on the next car. I'd only been working on it for a few minutes when Zee walked in. From the scowl on his face, he was upset about something. I finished tightening the alternator belt on the `70 Beetle and scrubbed up. When I had most of the grease off my hands I leaned a hip on a bench and said, "What's up."
"Only a fool deals with vampires," he said, his face closed up into a forbidding visage of disapproval.