Maggie Shayne - Blue Twilight

She tilted her head. Her copper-red curls brushed past her shoulder on one side, fell behind her neck on the other. He tried not to notice, and noticed, anyway. “You really think that’s all it is?” she asked.

“I really do.”

Max sighed, nodding slowly. “I suppose you could be right.”

He almost gaped in surprise, until she added, “But I doubt it.”

Yep, that was the reaction he’d expected. The two of them were so opposite it was predictable. “I suppose you have a theory of your own?”

“I’m working on one.”

“And I suppose it’s something flaky.”

“By flaky you mean …?”

“Paranormal. Supernatural. Otherworldly. Extra—”

“Yeah, something flaky.”

He sighed, disliking the way this conversation was going. Now that one of her far-fetched theories had been proved correct, there would be no talking her down from the next one. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Then don’t. It’s still in development.” She shrugged, dropping the subject. “I’m really sorry I made you miss your fishing trip.”

“No you’re not.” Hell, he wasn’t, either. He would rather spend time with Max, far-fetched theories and outrageous flirting and all, than in a boat with a fishing pole. But he would be damned if he’d admit it. It would only encourage her.

“You’re right, I’m not.”

At least she was honest. For the most part, though he had no doubt she was even now plotting ways to get him to stay longer than he intended.

Stormy came in then, a suitcase in each hand. “Isn’t this the best place in the universe?” She dropped the cases inside the door. “Are the phones turned on yet? We’re supposed to call my parents when we arrive.”

“I haven’t checked,” Max said. Then the two of them headed across the great room and through the double doors off the right of it, into the office.

Lou watched them go. Watched Max, mostly. The girl was hell on wheels. If he thought for one minute her constant flirting was a sign of serious interest he would …

He would what? he asked himself. He wouldn’t do anything but brush her off as gently as possible and head for home. He liked Max too much to subject her to a relationship with him. He was hell on women, and he knew it. A miserable failure at that sort of thing. Every woman he’d dated in the past decade had dumped him in short order, most of them accusing him of being about as emotional and romantic as a dying trout. Then again, he hadn’t really tried with any of them. Hadn’t ever tried since his divorce.

He hadn’t wanted to. He still didn’t. And Max deserved better.

Sighing, Lou followed them into the office. It was pretty much as Morgan had left it, furnished in her elegant style. A computer was already set up on the antique mahogany desk. Stormy was replacing the telephone receiver on its hook when he came in. “Got a dial tone. Phones are up and running.” Then she frowned at the telephone’s base. “Hey, the message light is blinking. Think we got a customer already?”

“No way, not yet,” Max said. “We haven’t even unpacked.”

“Maybe all those flyers announcing our grand opening are already paying off.” Stormy hit the Play button and sank into a chair to listen. The voice that came from the answering machine was male, and her eyes widened a little when she heard it.

“Max, Storm, it’s Jason. Jason Beck. I know it’s been a long time, and now I’m only calling because I need your help. I feel like a jerk, but—look, something’s going on—I think my sister’s missing.”

Stormy shot Max a horrified look.

“There’s something wrong,” Jason’s voice went on. “She was on a trip with her best friend. Spring break, her senior year. I got this odd phone call. Really broken up—bad connection. But I know she’s in trouble. There’s just—there’s something off about this whole thing. I need you guys. So call me back. Uh, the cell phone won’t work out here, but I have a motel room. Call me, okay?” He gave the number. There was a distinct clicking sound as Jason hung up, and then another. The machine beeped to signal the end of the message.

“Jason Beck—hell, I remember him,” Lou said. “Third part of the gang of three, wasn’t he?”

Max nodded. “He moved away, went to law school. What time did he leave that message?” she asked Stormy.

Stormy looked at the machine. “At 7:10 p.m. Less than an hour ago.”

“Play it again,” Lou said.

“Lou?” Max must have seen something in his eyes, because she leaned closer to look into them. “What is it? What are you—”

“Just play it once more.”

Stormy hit the Play button, and they listened to their old friend’s worried voice. When the message ended, Lou said, “Did you hear that? That extra clicking sound?”

Max nodded. “What is it, Lou?”

“I can’t be sure, but it sure as hell sounded fishy to me.”

“Fishy how?”

“Fishy like someone was listening in.”

Stormy jumped out of her chair. “You think his phone is bugged?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Lou shrugged. “Or maybe it was just a glitch in the line.”

The vampire sat comfortably in the overstuffed chair in the cheap motel room’s darkest corner. Jason Beck, standing near the bed, hung up the telephone; then Fieldner hung up the extension on the other side of the room.

Jason turned to face him. His lip was split, but it had stopped bleeding. The eye, on the other hand, was already beginning to darken. It would be purple by morning. He was still angry with Fieldner for that. The man had become carried away when young Jason Beck decided to fight rather than comply. A foolish decision. Fieldner might look as if a stiff wind would blow him over, but occasional sips of vampiric blood made him strong. And utterly obedient.

It was a shame the man was also an imbecile.

“I did what you asked. I called them,” Beck said. “I want to see my sister now.”

“You left a message on an answering machine,” the vampire said slowly. “That’s not precisely what I told you to do, now is it?”

“They’ll call back. When they do, I’ll get them down here. I swear.”

“How can you be so certain they will come?”

“They will,” Beck said, lowering his head to stare at the photograph that lay on the bedside stand beside the telephone. “They’re my friends. They’ll come.”

“They’d better. And when they do, you would do well to follow my instructions to the letter. Do you understand, Mr. Beck?”

Jason met his eyes. “No. I don’t understand any of this. Who the hell are you? What do you want with Storm and Maxie? If you’re going to hurt them—”

“I’m not. Not that you could stop me if I were. You have one mission here, Beck, and that is to do as you’re told. So long as you obey, there will be no harm done—to the women or to your sister. Or to you.”

Jason’s eyes lowered beneath the vampire’s steady, penetrating gaze. He had a brilliant mind, this young man. His intelligence was great, his love for his sister even greater. But he had a deep affection for the two female detectives, as well. It could prove to be a problem if not properly controlled.

“Since you’ve acted in good faith,” the vampire said slowly, “I will take you to see your sister now.”

Stormy dialed the number, was connected to Jason’s room and waited. Then she slowly shook her head. “No answer.”

As she put the phone down, Max frowned at her, recalling their earlier conversation, right after she’d gone off the road. “You were thinking about Jason on the way here,” she said.

Stormy nodded. “Yeah. Odd, isn’t it?” She didn’t meet Max’s eyes.

“What was it, some kind of premonition?”