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Bloody Bones :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 23 из 272I fished under the coverall for it,and checked the number. "Shit," I said.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm being paged by the police. I've got to get to a phone."
He frowned at me. "Why would the police be calling you?"
So much for being a household name. "I'm the legal vampire executioner for a three-state area. I'm attached to the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team."
He was looking very steadily at me. "You surprise me, Ms. Blake. Not many people do that."
"I need to find a phone."
"I have a portable with a battery pack at the bottom of this damned hill."
"Great. I'm ready to head down if you are."
He did one last turn, taking in that breath-stealing billion-dollar view. "Yes, I'm ready to go down."
It was an interesting choice of words, a Freudian slip you might say. Stirling had wanted this land for some perverse reason. Maybe because he was told he couldn't have it. Some people are like that. The more you say no, the more they want you. It reminded me of a certain master vampire I knew.
Tonight I'd walk the land, visit with the dead. It would probably be tomorrow night before I actually tried to raise them. If the police matter was pressing enough, it might be longer. I hoped it wasn't pressing. Pressing usually meant dead bodies. When the monsters are involved, it's never just one dead body. One way or another, the dead multiply.
5
We got back to the valley. The construction crew was gone except for Beau the foreman. Ms. Harrison and Bayard stood next to the helicopter, as if huddling against the wilderness. Larry and the pilot stood to one side, smoking, sharing that comradery of all people who are determined to blacken their lungs.
Stirling walked towards them all, his stride firm and confident once more. He'd left his doubts on top of the mountain. or so it seemed. He was the impervious senior partner once more. Illusion is all.
"Bayard, get the phone. Ms. Blake needs to use it."
Bayard gave a startled little jump, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. Ms. Harrison looked a little flushed. Was there romance in the air? And was that not allowed? No fraternizing among the flunkies.
Bayard ran off across the dirt towards the last car. He fetched what looked like a small, black leather backpack with a handle. He pulled a phone out and handed it to me. It looked like an antennaed walkie-talkie.
Larry walked over smelling of smoke. "What's up?"
"I got beeped."
"Bert?"
I shook my head. "Police.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm being paged by the police. I've got to get to a phone."
He frowned at me. "Why would the police be calling you?"
So much for being a household name. "I'm the legal vampire executioner for a three-state area. I'm attached to the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team."
He was looking very steadily at me. "You surprise me, Ms. Blake. Not many people do that."
"I need to find a phone."
"I have a portable with a battery pack at the bottom of this damned hill."
"Great. I'm ready to head down if you are."
He did one last turn, taking in that breath-stealing billion-dollar view. "Yes, I'm ready to go down."
It was an interesting choice of words, a Freudian slip you might say. Stirling had wanted this land for some perverse reason. Maybe because he was told he couldn't have it. Some people are like that. The more you say no, the more they want you. It reminded me of a certain master vampire I knew.
Tonight I'd walk the land, visit with the dead. It would probably be tomorrow night before I actually tried to raise them. If the police matter was pressing enough, it might be longer. I hoped it wasn't pressing. Pressing usually meant dead bodies. When the monsters are involved, it's never just one dead body. One way or another, the dead multiply.
5
We got back to the valley. The construction crew was gone except for Beau the foreman. Ms. Harrison and Bayard stood next to the helicopter, as if huddling against the wilderness. Larry and the pilot stood to one side, smoking, sharing that comradery of all people who are determined to blacken their lungs.
Stirling walked towards them all, his stride firm and confident once more. He'd left his doubts on top of the mountain. or so it seemed. He was the impervious senior partner once more. Illusion is all.
"Bayard, get the phone. Ms. Blake needs to use it."
Bayard gave a startled little jump, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. Ms. Harrison looked a little flushed. Was there romance in the air? And was that not allowed? No fraternizing among the flunkies.
Bayard ran off across the dirt towards the last car. He fetched what looked like a small, black leather backpack with a handle. He pulled a phone out and handed it to me. It looked like an antennaed walkie-talkie.
Larry walked over smelling of smoke. "What's up?"
"I got beeped."
"Bert?"
I shook my head. "Police.