Chapter 142
Despite Verchiel's instructions, Katelina shrieked as they leapt out the window and repeated their arrival procedure in reverse. She kept her eyes closed as he nimbly hopped from rooftop to rooftop, laughing delightedly at her misery. The cold air stung her bare hands as she hung on for her life, begging God not to let her die.
They dropped to the ground a block from the police station and Verchiel carefully peeled her loose like a pair of too tight leather pants. "You did better this time," he said as she dropped dizzily to the sidewalk. "You still need to work on it though."
"No thanks." She fought her heaving stomach. "That's worse than a roller coaster."
He got her to her feet and they walked to the brightly lit station. By the time they reached the parking lot, she'd quit staggering like a drunk. They wove between the vehicles and walked to the front door. A type-written sign proclaimed that after hours visitors needed to use the intercom to be admitted.
"That's damned inconvenient. This is a quaint place, isn't it?"
Katelina didn't answer, so he pressed the button and gave the woman inside a brief explanation for their presence. The heavy door clicked loudly and he thanked her before they went inside.
"Stay with me. Not that I think there'll be much opportunity for trouble here, but better safe than sorry." She wasn't sure whether he sounded relieved or disappointed, though she nodded just the same.
They left the entrance hall for a small room painted white and lit with fluorescent lights. There was a counter where the woman who'd admitted them sat, and a table in the corner where two police officers were drinking coffee and waiting for shift change. A spattering of chairs served as a waiting room and revealed how little action the station really got, while two doors in the back wall led into other rooms.
"If you'll have a seat." The woman indicated the plastic chairs and added, "Someone will be out shortly."
Verchiel thanked her and they sat down. He seemed calm and collected as he scooped up a hunting magazine and shuffled through it aimlessly. Katelina, on the other hand, couldn't imitate his carefree attitude. She restlessly tapped her fingers on her leg, while her ears strained for Jorick's voice.
The clock on the wall ticked each minute off noisily, until Katelina wanted to scream. She unfastened her coat and refastened it, bounced her leg and unfastened her coat again. None of the useless actions did anything to release the building tension. The waiting cops clocked in, swapping out with another set who left, and still the time dragged in an interminable silence that was excruciating. Relief came when the door opened and an officer wandered in, his hands in his pockets and his brow puckered.
The receptionist looked up from behind the counter. "What's the problem?"
He stopped next to her. "Nothing in particular, I suppose. There's something odd about him though."
"No warrants?" she asked conversationally, and took a sip of coffee.
"No. His license is expired, but other than that, nothing. Not even a traffic ticket. It's like he's been squeaky clean his whole life, and that's not right." He glanced up, suddenly aware of Katelina and Verchiel. "Can I help you?"
"Are you charging him?" Verchiel asked, dropping the magazine and swinging his gaze towards the counter.
It took the cop a moment to figure out what he meant. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't say right now. You're with Mr. Smit?" His expression said that affiliation with Jorick was not in their favor.
Verchiel shrugged noncommittally. "All right. His lawyer should be calling soon."
The cop registered incredulity, then turned back to the receptionist. When he spoke his voice was lower and Katelina had to strain to hear. "He's never even had his fingerprints taken, and he's very vague about where he's been or what he's been doing."
"Think it's a fake ID?"
"I don't know. Things have been weird around here the last few months. First the murder, then that fire and the double kidnapping, and you heard about that mess that happened in Dunwick, didn't you?"
"They ever figure it out?" the receptionist asked, though she sounded only half interested.
"Dunwick? Nah. They contaminated the crime scene too bad. There were fingerprints from half the town there before they ever closed the scene off. I hear they tracked blood all over the place. Amateurs." He sniffed disdainfully.
Before the receptionist could reply, the phone rang. The cop jumped at the sound and the receptionist held back sniggers as she answered it. She nodded her head while the caller gave an obviously long spiel and then she put them on hold.
"Who is it?" the cop asked.
"A Crevel Lorson, he wants to speak to his client, Mr. Smit." The cop started to move away when she added, "Warn Richards, this guy's in a mood. He says they have under two hours left to charge Smit and then he'd best be released or else he'll be forced to take action."
"One of those. All right, I'll pass it on."
The receptionist narrowed her eyes at Katelina, who looked entirely too interested in the conversation.
"Won't be long now," Verchiel muttered under his breath. "You can relax."
Katelina didn't relax. She made a trip to the small public restroom and back, flipped aimlessly through a cooking magazine that was a year old, and chewed her fingernails down to nubs. Only when the irritated cop returned did she perk up.
"They're letting him go," he announced to the receptionist with disgust. "Richards says the woman won't press charges and he refuses to, though I don't understand why. They can't prove the guy had anything to do with Mullens, and they haven't even questioned him about the other missing woman." He leaned against the counter and glared at Katelina and Verchiel with open hostility. "Lorson has been on the phone three times or more. Even weirder, it took two calls before Smit would acknowledge that the guy was his lawyer."
"Are they doing the paperwork back there?" the receptionist asked.
"Yeah. I just don't understand it. Richards was so gleeful when we got the call earlier tonight, he even came in special for it, and now he's just as enthusiastic about letting the guy go."
"He's strange," the woman agreed absently.
Moments later, the door opened and Jorick strolled through it, his dark eyes snapping with anger. When he saw Verchiel, he all but bared his fangs and his hands compressed into tight fists at his sides. Katelina leapt up to run to him but, without even bothering to look up from the magazine, the redhead caught the back of her coat with one hand and stopped her.
Detective Richards appeared behind Jorick, talking fluidly and explaining that he didn't want to have to see him in there again. Then, he thanked him for his time and for his cooperation. "A lawyer wasn't really necessary," he continued, oblivious to Jorick's fury.
"No, it wasn't," the dark vampire seethed.
They stopped at the counter and the receptionist dropped a paper on it. "You'll need to sign this," Richards said cheerfully. "You've got all your effects back?"
Jorick scrawled a signature across the paper and shoved it towards them. "Yes."
Paper signed, Verchiel released Katelina's coat and she hurried to Jorick and threw her arms around him. "I was afraid they were keeping you!" she cried and buried her face against him.
Jorick returned her hug, but it did little to abate his fury. He stared past her to Verchiel who stood and made to join them. "Let's go," he muttered against her ear, then added firmly, "We need to talk."
Verchiel came to a stop beside Jorick and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "So nice to see you out and about again."
Jorick's growl was audible, and Katelina quickly towed him out of the station, Verchiel trailing behind with an air of effected innocence. When they reached the broad sidewalk outside, Jorick spun around and grabbed the redhead by the front of his coat. "What are you doing here?"
"Now, now," Verchiel soothed. "Is that any way to say thank you?"
"Thank you?" Jorick demanded. "For what? I told you that I didn't want to see you again."
Verchiel ignored Jorick's anger. "Lucky for you I stumbled in on things when I did. But might I suggest we have this conversation elsewhere? You've only just been released."
Jorick growled again, but let him go. He turned to look for the car. When he didn't see it, he turned to Katelina. "How did you get here?"
"We walked. Sort of."
Katelina's thoughts made her meaning clear and he glared at Verchiel. "You could have dropped her!"
"Hardly. By the way, nice trick with that detective. How do you get them to sound so natural?"
Jorick muttered something dark under his breath. After ascertaining that Katelina wasn't harmed or dying, he tugged her down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. They'd only gone a few steps when he stopped and looked back, an angry remark on his lips, but Verchiel was nowhere to be seen.
