James Moore - Blood Red

Avery stared, amazed by the bird now in his hand. The crow craned its head around and looked at him with one glossy black eye.

“Can I keep him, mister?”

The man laughed lightly and shook his head. “He is not to be kept, my friend. He is too wild for that. He must live his own life or he will never be happy.”

Avery understood the concept, but wasn’t thrilled by the news. He would have loved having a crow as a pet. How cool would that be?

The stranger lifted his hand and the crow that had been perched there flew into the air, powerful wings lifting it back to the perch it had previously abandoned. The bird in Avery’s hand fidgeted a bit and danced from foot to foot for a moment. Then it took off, the wings almost striking his face before it was airborne.

Avery turned to thank the man who’d shown him the crows, but when he looked, there was no sign that he had ever been there. He frowned, and was about to call out when the hands caught him around the throat and lifted him from the ground.

Avery couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, and his feet kicked at the man again and again, but seemed to have absolutely no impact.

“Shhh… Avery Tripp. You and the crows will be good friends, I think.”

The world faded away, lost in a darkness that was filled with the rustle of black feathers.

“Have you ever seen so many birds?” Ben looked around the car in wonder, a smile playing at his lips. He was a great big kid in a lot of ways.

Maggie stood nearby, holding the last of the boxes. He took it from her and set it next to the car, then reached into a box he had brought with him. Aside from the gloves both of them wore, the box also held a small meter of some kind.

“What’s that?” She sounded amused, and he was glad she was having fun.

“This is an electromagnetic emanation detector.” He put on a deep scholarly voice for her.

“A what?” She was smiling and looking at him with those amazing eyes.

“It checks for radio waves and other stuff.”

“What? You think he bugged you?”

He looked right back at her, his smile fading a bit. “I would. If someone was screwing with me this way, I most certainly would.”

“You really think so?” He couldn’t tell if she was thinking about it or doubting his sanity.

“I’ve made threats against him. He’s a cop. And he’s not a very nice cop. I don’t want to take any chances.” He shrugged, trying to tell himself it didn’t matter if she thought he was loony.

“See? That’s smart. I wouldn’t have thought about it.”

He turned on the meter and ran it carefully over each of the boxes. The first two were clean. The third gave off a signal. He found the source and pulled a small transmitter out of the edge, frowning at it. Not a lot of range, but it would do if the man using it was careful.

“Bastard,” he was laughing as he said it.

“You’re not upset?”

“No. It’s like chess. Only he doesn’t know all the rules.”

“Yeah? Like what?” She moved closer, and he showed her the small tracking device.

“Like I don’t play nicely.” He moved the device over to a different part of the parking area, placing it into a knothole in one of the trees.

“Should I call him now? Or make him wait?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, actually looking indignant. “Call his ass and break his balls.” He blinked and smiled. He wasn’t used to her using vulgarity. Then again, he wasn’t used to her. It was nice new territory to explore.

“Okay. You win.”

He picked up the phone he’d been using earlier and dialed the number for the man’s house again.

The phone rang seven times before Brian Freemont answered. He didn’t sound at all happy about the interruption.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Officer Freemont. I found your tracking device. Now you get to wait at least one more day before I give you back your life. Don’t write any checks.”

He turned off the phone and put it back into his pocket.

Maggie was smiling at him, her eyes alight with amusement. “You’re a very bad man, Ben. Very bad.”

“Yeah, well, I have my moments.”

They left the boxes behind, taking only the evidence packages that they held.

All the way back to the apartments, Maggie kept giving him the strangest looks. He didn’t know why, but he rather liked it.

Tom Pardue was high on life. He always got that way when he knew he was going to have a good time with someone. Right now he was going to have a party all over Maggie Preston. She was a fine-looking girl, she really was, but she’d been playing games and thinking it wouldn’t get back to him.

She was supposed to be handling situations with Lance Brewster, and he’d just gotten another call from a long-term client who was not at all happy with the lack of attention he was getting. That wasn’t acceptable. She knew the score: He let her think she was something special. He made sure she got the nonviolent johns who weren’t too freaky, because she earned the money. He gave her name to only the best clientele, because she was damned good at her job. She’d told him a few things back in the day about being double-jointed and a gymnast. Until she’d proved to him how much difference that could make, he could have cared less. She could also do things with her mouth to make a man cry. She could unhinge her jaw, for God’s sake! On the day he decided to give her a test session, she’d swallowed him whole and then kept him at the edge of orgasm for over an hour. Maggie could tease mercilessly and have a man begging for release. That was why she was so popular. She could also get into the most incredible positions he’d ever experienced. But that didn’t mean she was in charge of her own destiny or any of that other shit she liked to spew from time to time. In the long run she was just another piece of ass, and she was his to do with as he pleased. She was a hooker who had a few special talents; it didn’t make her the queen of the universe, it just made her a good commodity. If she wanted to believe she was something more than that, he could correct her ideas.

Maybe it was time to stop being so nice about how he treated her. Maybe if he gave her a few sessions like he’d given Lizzie earlier, she’d remember who was in charge of her fucking destiny.

So he was waiting around for her to show her little ass at her little apartment. Then, if she got bitchy, he was going to explain everything nicely, exactly one more time. If it was twice, he’d break her in half.

That was before she came into the courtyard of her place with some little yuppie fuck, carrying a bunch of white bags and laughing like she didn’t have a care in the whole world.

Seeing her and her boyfriend just made the whole of his day better. She hadn’t been producing as well as she should for almost a week, and now he knew why.

Maggie was laughing, her head thrown back at something the college boy had said.

Being a good sport, Tom walked out from his hiding place and smiled.

“Hey, Maggie.” He smiled and watched her jump as the bags in her hands fell all over the ground.

“Tom…” Her sweet, lovely, sexy-as-all-hell face grew ghostly white, prompting a bigger grin on Tom. He sauntered over as casual as he could, and rocked back on his heels for a second.

“That’s me. Tom.” He looked over at the college boy. He was in decent shape for a loser, but probably wouldn’t last more than three punches. “Who’s your friend?”

“Ben, this is Tom. Tom, this is Ben. We have a class together.” She was good, keeping it calmer than he’d expected. It made sense, the kid being a study buddy, because Tom couldn’t imagine his pet whore would want to get her face shattered for a limp-wristed little piece like the one she was hanging with.