Dave Zeltserman - Blood Crimes Book One

“Donald, you never cease to amaze me. Have you found where he’s staying yet?”

“Not yet. But I did find someone who saw Jim’s girlfriend. Can I talk frankly?”

“Of course,” she said, but with that crackling glass quality edging into her voice. The sound of it made Hayes’ heart beat just that much faster, and once again he found himself sweating. He knew he was making a mistake, but he told her his theory on how the girlfriend was used as bait to lure the victim into a dark alley. “I think he uses her with all these killings,” he said.

More glass crackling as she asked whether he had shared this speculation of his with anyone else.

“No, and I’m not going to.”

“Go on.”

Hayes wiped his brow, felt his heart skip in his chest. “I think Jim is killing people and drinking their blood.”

No response from Serena. Just dead silence. Hayes wiped a handkerchief along the back of his neck, continued, “These people being killed are all missing a lot of blood. Another thing they have in common is they’re all lowlifes, dregs of society. In Kansas City the word on the street was a vampire did the killing. Police are discounting that as nonsense, but I have a gut feeling someone saw the killing, and saw Jim drinking the victim’s blood.”

“Donald, my advice is spend your energies finding which motel Jim is staying at and to quit wasting them on this kind of speculation. It is not anything you would ever be able to prove, and would not be beneficial for you if you could.”

Hayes’ heart was racing. Her tone had changed to something artificially friendly, but there was an underlying threat to it.

“Understood,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Good. And drink some water. Your voice sounds a bit froggy. Call me as soon as you find him.”

She hung up, and Hayes stood for a long moment feeling shaky inside, especially his heart which was fluttering like a butterfly. Why the fuck did he have to bring that up? What the fuck was the matter with him? He gritted his teeth as if he were in pain, then went back to his car where he cracked open a Cleveland yellow pages that he had picked up earlier and found its motel section. There were a lot of divey low-cost motels listed, especially around the airport. This was going to take a while. He called his office and spoke with Annie. She had faxed the drawing to all the motel’s that had fax machines and was overnighting copies to the rest. She had already called half of them and out of those fifteen of the desk clerks claimed the girl was staying with them. “That’s what a ten grand reward’s going to get you,” she added. “I was surprised I actually talked to people who were willing to admit they hadn’t seen her.”

“Restores your faith in humanity, don’t it?”

“You bet’cha.”

Annie gave him the list of leads, and told him she’d keep on it. Using a city map, Hayes located where the motels were and started with the ones closest to the airport. He had crossed six of the motels off his list when he heard the news report over the radio about a man found dead in a movie theatre, his body savagely mutilated. The newscaster didn’t specify how the body was mutilated, but did state that the police were considering it “one of the most vicious and depraved murders in recent Cleveland history”. As far as Hayes was concerned that said something.

One of the most vicious and depraved murders in recent Cleveland history.

All he could think of was Jim, and a vivid image of Jim’s drawing crystallized in his mind. A large part of the murder didn’t fit-the fact that it took place so soon after the other murder and that it happened in the middle of the day and in public. In the past the bodies would be left hidden so they wouldn’t be discovered for days, and Hayes was sure that there were plenty of corpses that still hadn’t been found. As much as this murder didn’t fit, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was Jim’s work, and more than that, that something very wrong had happened to cause it and that more killings were on the way. He looked up the address for the Cineplex and put down his list of third-rate fleabag motels.

Jim sat grimly waiting for Pearce’s phone to ring. Pearce had already called Raze to tell him most of the money was accounted for. Before Jim was willing to set up an exchange he wanted to talk with Carol to make sure she was okay. According to Raze she was still in transit, but he’d be calling back within the hour. That was forty minutes ago. Jim shifted his gaze to the biker, who appeared calm and unconcerned. Jim doubted he’d be so relaxed if he understood that if the call didn’t come in the next twenty minutes pieces of him were going to be ripped off until he told Jim where Raze and the rest of his biker gang could be found.

Pearce’s cell phone rang.

Jim nodded to him to answer it. Pearce flipped the phone open, listened intently and handed it to Jim.

“Zeke’s all over the news,” Raze said.

“At least you now know what you’re dealing with.”

“You fucking asshole.”

“Again, at least you know what you’re dealing with. Let me talk to Carol.”

Jim heard some talking in the background, then the sound of a woman gasping.

“Carol! Are you okay?” Jim yelled, his body tensing as he prepared to do worse to Pearce than they could possibly be doing to Carol.

There was some coughing, then Carol telling him she was okay. “They just took a rag out of my mouth,” she said.

“They haven’t hurt you?”

“Not too much.”

“What do you mean not too much?”

She was pulled away from the phone and Raze was back on.

“Quit your worrying,” Raze said. “We haven’t done nothin’ to her yet. Just a few bumps and bruises from her traveling. It’s not too comfortable riding in the trunk of a car. Where we doin’ the exchange?”

“At the airport.”

“Uh uh,” Raze said. “As I told you, Zeke’s all over the news. The cops could have your description and there could be an all points out on you. It’s going to have to be someplace more private.”

“Bring her to my motel.”

“We can do that, Champ.”

Jim gave him the address of the motel and his room number.

“I want Carol here in fifteen minutes. Otherwise Pearce is dead and I start hunting for you,” Jim said. “When your guys get here, you let her go, and once she’s in the room safe with me, I let Pearce go with the money. There’s no other door to the room, so there’s no other place for me to sneak out to. You want to ask Pearce about that?”

“Don’t need to, Champ, your word’s good with me.”

“Anything other than that happens and it’s going to get ugly.”

“Don’t worry, Champ. Fifteen minutes. We’ll be there. Just don’t fuck things up on your end.”

Raze hung up. Jim handed the phone back to Pearce, then sat back and watched how relaxed Pearce appeared. He knew what they were planning. Once Carol was in the room with him and they had their money they were going to storm the room and massacre the two of them-or maybe kill Jim and take Carol to sell into white slavery. It wouldn’t work out that way-if they tried something like that Jim would kill them, but they didn’t know what he was, so they thought it would be a cakewalk. He glanced again at Pearce and saw how the biker could barely contain his smirk. Jim had no doubt that was what was going to happen. Fine. It didn’t matter. As long as he had Carol back safely, it didn’t matter how many of these bikers he would have to kill.

He moved over to the window and pushed the curtains aside enough so he could look out.

“You don’t like sunlight much, do you?” Pearce asked.