Crowbones

CHAPTER 44

Vicki

Watersday, Novembros 3

Call one man and get all three. How great was that?

Not so great, since there had been screaming before I called. Lots of screaming.

“Hey, Chief.” I smiled at Grimshaw. Thought I did, anyway, but the look on his face told me my face hadn’t gotten the smile quite right. “Some human was being stoooopid. Did you confiscate his camera?” I frowned and pinched a black fluff feather out of the glass of orange juice I was holding. “Could have been a her camera. Stupidity is an equal opportunity, you know.”

Julian crouched near my feet and placed a hand on my ankle. “Vicki?” he said gently.

“In shock, I think. I found her sitting here, and Eddie brought her some orange juice.” That was Michael Stern’s voice.

I looked up. Way up. Why were people so much taller than they’d been that morning?

“Drink the orange juice, Vicki,” Julian said. “Did you put anything in it?”

“There was a feather, but I didn’t put it there.”

“No,” Michael said.

My brain, working in slow motion, figured out Julian’s question had been directed at Michael, not me.

“Where is everyone?” Grimshaw asked.

“In the TV room,” Michael replied.

“Except the cheaters,” I said. “Wilma went to the toilet down here to wash her hands and Fred followed her. Either Wilma and her precious sausage are having a doozy of a handwashing session or they’re having sex.” I drank some orange juice and didn’t feel quite as wobbly—and realized people were taller because I was still sitting on the floor. “Gotta find my sand.”

“Right now, you’ve got to sit there and drink your juice until you’re steady enough to talk to me,” Grimshaw said in his Stern Police Voice.

He was not a happy camper, so I didn’t point out that I had been talking to him, because I guessed by his voice that he meant official talking.

I drank more juice.

Ilya reappeared, which meant he’d been gone. He looked at Grimshaw. “Call the EMTs or Dr. Wallace. Whoever is available to clean and stitch wounds. Cougar will meet those humans at the end of the access road and escort them here. They will be safe with Cougar guiding them.”

“You’re sure of that?” Grimshaw asked.

Ilya nodded.

Grimshaw stepped out of easy visual range, so he was out of my mental frame now. Ilya stepped in, standing near my feet. Julian continued to crouch, a hand on my ankle.

“We were having a good time talking about books and looking at what was available on the Mini Munch tables.” I looked up at Michael. “They bought your new book.”

Seeing him try to smile while he turned pale made me wonder if his new potential fans might find something in the story that would make them feel sharply critical.

I offered him the rest of my orange juice—and he drank it.

“I have something for you,” I told Julian. I dug in a pocket of my slacks and pulled out the list of new books and the coins. “They bought five new books and gave me these as payment.”

Julian sucked in a breath.

Michael gasped and managed to rattle the juice glass onto the reception desk instead of dropping it on the floor or on me. Then he sank to his knees. “Gods! Are they . . . ? May I . . . ?”

Julian held out one of the coins.

“They look like gold,” I said, feeling defensive. Julian was making a slim living from the bookstore as it was. I didn’t want him to take a loss on the books I had sold on his behalf.

“They’re gold,” Julian confirmed.

“I did some research about gold coins for one of my books,” Michael said, examining the coin. “This one was cast about a hundred years ago. Equal in size and weight to some of the coins being minted by humans as a standard currency for that time.”

Translation: the terra indigene had made that coin in order to trade with humans. I wondered if there were newer coins or if trading had lost its appeal—or if paper money taken from humans who broke promises was easier to use because it was lighter to carry, and if it had stains, it was currency and threat rolled into one.

“This one came from the Northeast mint, dated fifty years ago,” Julian said, studying the other coin. “I’ll have to find out the current price of gold to figure out how much store credit the Five have now.”

“The Sanguinati can look that up for you,” Ilya said.

Julian nodded. Michael returned the cast coin.

Julian rose and tucked the book list and the coins into the front pocket of his jeans. Then he reached down and hauled me to my feet.

I wasn’t the only one who had latched onto the coins as a distraction from whatever was going on in the TV room. Not that there was much going on until the EMTs arrived.

“Victoria, after you informed the guests that they would need to remain in the TV room to accommodate some of Julian Farrow’s customers, did you notice anyone making a call from the phone in the kitchen?” Ilya asked.

There were phones in my office and apartment, but they wouldn’t be accessible to guests. There wasn’t a phone in the TV room, but there was a phone jack in the social room so that guests could connect a portable computer to the secondary phone line and access their e-mail.

“There was no reason for anyone to order out for something to eat,” I said. “There are plenty of leftovers. That would be the only reason to use the phone in the kitchen.”

“What about you?” Ilya focused on Michael, his voice not as casual or polite now. “Did you notice anyone making a call on their mobile phone after you assembled in the TV room?”

Michael hesitated. I hoped he was smart enough not to lie to Ilya.

“Several people, including me,” he finally said. “I called home to reassure my parents that we were fine and the road closures weren’t as big a deal as the reporters were making them out to be.”

“You fibbed to your parents?” I thought for a moment. “Can Intuits do that?”

“Not if you’re in the same room with a parent, and you’ve just come home from a hot date, and your father asks you where you’ve been,” Julian said dryly. “But over the phone?” He wobbled one hand as if saying Maybe, maybe not.

“Besides, I called before things went strange,” Michael said, looking at Ilya. “I think Ian made a call to his partner—a ‘just in case’ call, you know?”

He waited until Ilya nodded, but I wasn’t sure if the Sanguinati made that kind of call, since they were one of the reasons those calls were made.

“Umm . . . as I finished up my call, I overheard Jenna McKay asking someone to go to her place and water her plants,” Michael continued. “I can’t tell you about the others. They may have made a call at the same time I did. I wasn’t paying attention, and there was enough understandable tension in that room that I didn’t sense anything that might have been cause for alarm.”

“Grimshaw will be able to find out the last call made from each phone and the number the person was calling,” I said. “So he’ll trace the call to the deceased.”

“Assuming the communication was of a kind that can be traced,” Ilya replied.

I understood what he meant, but I would stake The Jumble that it hadn’t been Aggie or Jozi or Eddie who had blabbed. And Conan and Cougar wouldn’t be excited about the Five showing up. But they might have warned other terra indigene to stay away from the main house and one of those terra indigene could have said something that provided a clue as to why everyone should stay away, and somehow that clue reached a human. That information could have been passed out of excitement—or imprudence—opened up the possible sources of leaked information.

Imprudence. Youthful excitement or the need to show off to someone?

Looking at Ilya’s grim expression, I realized he had three Sanguinati names at the top of his list of suspects.