“So who is?” the chief asked me. “Who cares, Daisy?”
It wasn’t a rhetorical question.
I took a deep breath. “About suffering? Ghouls, sir.” I glanced sidelong at Cody. “See, I think we’re still looking for Ray D. Stefan said two ghouls in love would create a closed feedback loop. They’d need a hostage to sustain them, and if you ask me, Jerry Dunham doesn’t seem like the type to let a couple of love-struck ghouls crash on his living room floor. I think we should question Matthew Mollenkamp.”
Both of us looked at Chief Bryant.
He pursed his lips in thought. “Did you come up with any leads on Ray D’s lady love?” he asked Cody.
Cody nodded. “Yeah, I did. It seems Mary Sudbury’s got a sister who lives in town. I thought we could talk to her.”
The chief folded his meaty hands. “Check out the sister and Dunham’s place. Assuming this hostage exists, let’s make her a priority, since no one else will. Gather as much information as you can. If we can find her on our own without stirring the pot further, so much the better; if not, bring in Mollenkamp for questioning. If he’s in collusion with Dunham, maybe he can give us an address. But the good citizens of Appeldoorn are already up in arms, and I’d like to avoid adding fuel to their fire.” He grimaced. “I took quite a shellacking at the Vanderhei boy’s funeral. It wasn’t pleasant.”
I touched dauda-dagr’s hilt. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on.” Chief Bryant forestalled me. “Daisy, I had a call from Amanda Brooks. She wants to meet with you.”
Oh, crap. Amanda Brooks was the head of the Pemkowet Visitors Bureau, intense, high-strung, and, to make matters worse, she’d hired her daughter Stacey, who happened to be one of my high school nemeses, as her assistant. The incident in the girls’ locker room with the bursting hot-water pipes that got me suspended? That was all Stacey Brooks.
I made a face. “Me? Why me?”
Leaning back in his chair, the chief shifted his folded hands over his belly. “She’s got some ideas she wants to discuss with Hel’s liaison. I promised you’d be in touch today. Understood?”
I sighed. “Yes, sir.”
Twenty-nine
There was yet another commotion taking place outside the police station, leading me to wish, not for the first time since the Vanderhei kid had drowned, that it wasn’t centrally located on downtown Pemkowet’s main street.
Stefan Ludovic.
He was leaning against the seat of his Harley, booted ankles crossed. A pair of dark wraparound sunglasses bisected the unnatural pallor of his face. It should have looked cheesy in a Eurotrash kind of way, but it didn’t.
He looked . . . hot.
A dozen tourists snapping eager photos agreed with me. Half a dozen wary protestors weren’t so sure, and neither was Cody.
“What’s he doing here?” he complained.
I fumbled in the inner pockets of my purse for Stefan’s smoky quartz pendant. “Oh, I kind of borrowed something of his yesterday. He probably wants it back. He said it was special to him.”
“You what?”
Cars squealed to a halt to let Stefan amble across the street with loose-limbed grace. He inclined his head to me. “Daisy.”
I was hoping my emotions wouldn’t start jangling in his presence. No such luck. I cleared my throat, handing him the pendant. “Stefan.”
It dangled from his fist. “Did it suit your needs?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it did. Thanks. I really appreciate it. Um . . . did you think I would forget to give it back?”
“No.” He stashed the pendant in the pocket of his leather vest, then removed his sunglasses, revealing dilated pupils in those ice-blue eyes. “I felt a great outpouring of anger from you this morning. It concerned me.”
“It most certainly didn’t concern you,” Cody muttered.
I ignored him. Yep, definitely still jangling. “You . . . felt that?”
The protestors had abandoned their marching and chanting, and stood milling around us, craning to hear.
“Now that you’ve willingly allowed me to taste you, I’m attuned to you, Daisy,” Stefan said calmly. “Of course I felt it.”
“You what?” Cody repeated. “You let him taste you?”
I felt my face get hot. “It was an emergency, okay? And you might have mentioned that little side effect before you let me say yes,” I added to Stefan.
He didn’t exactly smile, but a dimple came and went alongside the corner of his mouth. “I might have. As you observed, it was something of an emergency. But you are well, I trust? Nothing is amiss?”
“I’m fine.” I glanced around at the gawking protestors and tourists. I sure as hell wasn’t going to mention Meg Mucklebones in the middle of this crowd. “Thanks for checking on me, but we’ve really got to go.”
“We should share information again, Hel’s liaison,” Stefan said. “Where are you bound? I’ll follow you.”
My temper stirred. “Look—”
Cody tapped my shoulder. “Actually, Daisy, this gives me an idea. Go ahead and follow us,” he said to Stefan. “I’ve got a request for you.”
“Of course, Officer.” Stefan’s face took on a neutral expression. “I’m pleased to assist if I can.”
As he turned to go, one of the protestors found an unexpected surge of courage and stepped forward to confront him. She held up a pendant of her own, a shiny gold cross, thrusting it toward Stefan’s face.
“No sanctuary for Satanism!” Her voice shook a bit, and the cross trembled in her hand, but she stood her ground. “Begone, fiend!”
Several tourists on the outskirts said, “Ooh!” And I swear to God, a pair of teenage girls were dipping into bags of caramel corn and shoving it into their mouths like they were watching a movie.
More protestors joined the bold one, closing ranks with her. “Go back to whatever hell you came from!” one shouted. “Leave the mortal world to God’s children!”
Once again, the chant arose.
“No sanctuary for Satanism! No sanctuary for Satanism!”
Stefan went very still.
It was the same deep, cool well of stillness I’d felt when I let my anger pour into him at Thad’s funeral, but this time it radiated outward, encompassing the protestors and the gawking tourists.
The chant faltered.
I had a feeling I had a lot to learn about ghouls. At least, centuries-old ghouls with ironclad control.
Stefan’s pupils waxed until they were glittering black moons surrounded by a thin rim of pale blue, then shrank to pinpoints. He fixed the young woman who’d first confronted him with that icy, blind-looking gaze. “You are very much mistaken as to my nature, madam. Once upon a time, my faith rivaled your own. But there are tales of heaven and hell that your priests will not tell you, and mine is such a one.”
She gaped at him.
With one pale finger, he pushed aside the gold cross she still held outthrust in his direction. “May I pass?” he inquired. “Or would you prefer that I drain away a measure of this unhealthy terror and spite of the unknown that bedevils you?” His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply and flicked his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. “It would be a pleasure to provide such a service.”
The young woman made an “Eeep!” sound and stepped aside rapidly, the other protestors tripping over one another in their haste to follow.
“Thank you.” Stefan put on his wraparound sunglasses. A handful of tourists reached for their cameras and phones.
“East Pemkowet!” Cody called after him. “We’ll meet you on the other side of the bridge.”
The Harley roared to life in answer.
Once he was behind the wheel of the patrol car, Cody permitted himself a brief, satisfied grin. “You know, for that I could almost bring myself to like the guy.”
“Me, too.”
He glanced at me. “Seems like you like him well enough already, Pixy Stix. You let him taste you?”
I slouched in the shotgun seat. “It was at the funeral yesterday. I was about to lose it. So what’s this idea of yours?”
Cody took a left at downtown Pemkowet’s only stoplight, which, by the way, is in operation only during tourist season. There’s actually a ceremony involved. “I’m thinking maybe Lord Muckety-Muck can send someone to check out Dunham’s house without spooking him. At least he’s got an in.”
I straightened. “Not bad. You trust him?”
“No,” he said. “But I’ve been thinking. You’re right: I don’t think he’s working with Dunham. From what I’ve seen looking for Ray D, there’s still a power struggle going on under the surface in ghoul-world, and for better or worse, Ludovic’s thrown his lot in with our side in this investigation. It’s worth a try. We can always follow up on our own.”
“Okay.” I stole a look at him. “So, um . . . on a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you?”
“For outing me?” Cody asked. I nodded silently. He turned onto the narrow highway. “Pretty much a ten when you called me this morning,” he said. “After seeing the way things stand in the Cassopolis household . . .” He shrugged. “Maybe a three. You were right. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad things were there. And I didn’t realize friendship was so important to you.”
“Jen was right, too,” I said softly. “You do make a beautiful wolf.”
He shot me another glance. “Thanks. You ready to talk about this temptation scenario yet?”
I shook my head. “There’s not enough time.”
“Okay.”
On the far side of the bridge, Stefan’s Harley was idling in the parking lot of the little roadside market that sold fresh local produce and flowers. He pulled out and fell in behind us as we crossed the river, following us to a cottage in East Pemkowet only a couple blocks away from Mr. Leary’s place.