The Wolven (The Keepers Trilogy #3)

The Wolven (The Keepers Trilogy #3) Page 33

“The night’s not over yet,” Shauna said, sitting on the concrete lip of a nearby crypt. “And besides, it wasn’t a total bust. We linked a couple of things together.”

“I’d say you’re being pretty optimistic. And even if we did link one or two things together, I wouldn’t try pulling anything with it. The links would break. They’re too weak.”

“So what about the whole thing with Banjo and Gris Gris? I mean, he fingered the snake guy for heaven’s sake. Don’t tell me you’re just going to dismiss that?”

Danyon shrugged. “Really, when you think about it, Banjo could have been blowing hot air up our rear ends. He’s a junkie, I know, but he’s a conniving junkie. He might have rattled off the first name that came into his head just because he was scared.”

“Even if he did, can you blame him?” Shauna said. “You were pretty convincing back there. If I would have been the one trapped under your boot like that, I would have spilled my guts in a nanosecond.”

He gave her a half smile. “Hey, you know, that brings up something that’s had me stumped since we left the alley.”

“What’s that?”

“If I would have confronted a regular vampire, like I did with Banjo back there, don’t you think he would have at least flashed his fangs or something?”

“I’d bet on it.”

“Then why didn’t Banjo? What kind of vampire is he?”

“I don’t know what breed of vampire he is. David Dulac had said something about Banjo during the meeting. He knows the vamp is different, but said he wasn’t sure if that was due to him being the product of a cross-breeding, or if it had something to do with the drugs he’s been using for years. I really don’t have a clue myself. Fiona would probably know more, since she’s his Keeper.”

Danyon shook his head. “Now that I think about it, I should have handled things differently back in the alley.”

“How so?”

“What I should’ve done was as soon as Banjo fingered Gris Gris, I should have grabbed the little weasel and brought him here with us. Then force him and Gris Gris into a face-off.”

Shauna laughed.

“What’s funny?’

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I know a face-off between the two of them would probably get serious quick. But when you first mentioned it, I suddenly got a picture in my head of Laurel and Hardy. You know, fat guy, skinny guy?”

Danyon grinned. “How do you know about Laurel and Hardy? Even the reruns of their movies stopped playing long before you were born.”

Shauna shrugged. “I like old movies, and they do make DVDs you know.”

Her smile made Danyon’s heart flip-flop in his chest. He forced himself to look away. He had to keep his mind on business. “Have you heard anything from Fiona, Caitlin, Jagger, anybody?”

“No,” she said, her smile quickly fading. “I won’t know anymore than you do until I see them again.”

“Wouldn’t your sisters call if they found anything?”

“Probably,” Shauna said. “But I don’t carry a cell phone, so they have no way to reach me.”

He cocked his head, surprised. “I thought everyone carried a cell phone these days.”

“I don’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Because wherever I go, I like to be where I am. A cell phone only divides your attention—all the texting, beeping, buzzing, call-waiting, call-forwarding, voice mail. It’s no wonder that there is so much anger in the world. No one has a moment’s peace to regroup their thoughts, to really think through their problems so they can find a solution.”

“Smart girl.”

“I know.”

Grinning, Danyon stood up and stretched, working out the kink forming in his lower back.

“You know, you may be right about something,” Shauna said.

“Me? Right?”

She smiled. “What you said about Banjo blowing hot air—that sort of ties in to what you said earlier about Gris Gris being in no physical condition to hold down a were.”

“Wait—are you saying I may be right about two things? We should call the local paper. That’s headline news!”

Shauna tsked, then chuckled. “I know, I know. But let’s think this through for a minute. Banjo ratting out Gris Gris doesn’t make very much sense when you take into account the big man’s physical liabilities. Banjo might be screwed up on drugs, and he might be conniving, but I don’t think he’s stupid. If he was lying, I think he’s sharp enough to have picked a much more likely candidate. Either that, or he figured we were stupid enough to fall for anything.”

“Maybe, but since we’re thinking this through—you know, the two things I was right about? Banjo could have been telling the truth, only we’re looking at it from a physical perspective. Gris Gris may not be doing the physical work, like restraining the were, wrapping him in cable. Maybe he’s orchestrating the whole thing. Who the heck knows?” Danyon walked over and sat beside her. “It very well could have started out one way and wound up another.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when August said that the murderer’s motive might be similar to a trapper’s? Someone who hunts alligators and bear, specifically for their claws and fangs, because they make jewelry out of them?”

“Yes, I remember when he told us.”

“Well, what if the murderer started off that way, you know, harvesting were claws and fangs to make expensive jewelry, it would have to be expensive because they’re rare. Then somehow, the murderer winds up ingesting a few granules of either the claws or fangs when he’s grinding them down for jewelry. He ends up with a serious buzz, one a lot different than he’s felt from any other drug. He discovers he’s stronger, faster, more agile. By process of elimination, he figures out where the buzz came from, and he’s off to the races from there.”

Shauna shook her head. “I don’t even like thinking about what those races might look like. People are so beyond their own limits now. Even a hint of something that powerful being available on the street—it would be like August said. The death toll would become astronomical. Weres might even become extinct.”

“It’s a scary thought for sure.”

Shauna propped her arms on her knees and lowered her head. “Do you think that it’s only happened in this area? Do you think there are other weres in other states going through this right now?”

“I haven’t heard news about it happening anywhere else,” Danyon said. “And I hope we don’t. If similar were murders show up anywhere else that would only confirm what you just said—it would be the beginning of the end. I try not to think about how big the problem could get. I just want to focus on this area and our weres right now.”

Danyon glanced over at the voodoo shop. The lights were still on, and he saw shadows from people walking back and forth in front of the screen door. He had seen some customers leave the shop and new ones come in, but nothing out of the ordinary. No suspicious looking characters, only curious tourists.

“What do you think Gris Gris meant when he said you should be careful about what you look for?” Shauna asked. She was looking toward the shop, as well. “Idle threat?”

“I’m sure that’s all it was. The guy’s good at pulling off a con. Look how his accent and entire manner of speaking changed when he was pressed to the wall.”

“I know,” Shauna said. “I couldn’t believe it. I mean, it’s not like I know him well. I’ve seen him around a time or two, occasionally cross him on the street in the Quarter, but I’ve never heard him roll into street talk that way. He always came across rather highbrow. You know what I mean?”

Danyon nodded, but didn’t offer more.

It was getting late and traffic was slowing on Rampart. The praline shop next to Gris Gris’ had already closed for the night. He felt frustrated and as useless as a spigot on a rock. Too many maybes had sent them chasing shadows that led them nowhere.

Maybe the claws and fangs were being pulverized and sold as a drug. Maybe Big Frank was tied to it simply because he wanted his gang to upstage the Bloods and the Crips. Maybe Gris Gris was involved. Maybe Banjo had been telling the truth when he had fingered the snake man after Danyon had put the squeeze on him. Maybe all of this was about a new drug, but then again…maybe not.

Danyon was used to addressing problems at the root cause. The challenge he had here, though, was that he had no roots to work with. His frustration and desire to do something, to find whoever, or whatever, was responsible for the murders, grew by the hour, and that was causing him to make bad decisions.

It would have been smarter had he taken a more subtle approach to Gris Gris, instead of confronting him head on. If the slime ball was responsible for the were deaths in any way, all Danyon had done was alert him to the fact that they suspected him. If anything, Gris Gris would be more cautious now about where he went and who he spoke to. The same applied to Big Frank Macina, since Shauna all but shoved an accusation up his nose.

Banjo didn’t really concern Danyon. The guy stayed so drugged most of the time, he probably had trouble remembering from one hour to the next what he had said, much less what he had heard or done.

If he was going to be truthful with himself, then Danyon had to admit that neither he nor Shauna knew what the hell they were doing. If drive and heartfelt passion to save and protect the weres were the only two things necessary to solve this case, then it would have been solved long ago.

The bottom line was easy to sum up. He wasn’t a detective. Neither was she.

He wondered if Jagger, Fiona, Ryder or Caitlin had had any luck in the areas they were monitoring. If they had uncovered any clues that might lead everyone in a different, more productive direction.

And what about the weres? Had the sentinels who were assigned to post by the remaining Southern alphas spotted anything? Something that might shed more light on the case, offer some clarification?