Victoria Nelson - Blood Trail Part 22

Vicki smiled at him, showing her teeth. "You're always bragging about how good you are at it."

The nice people at the YMCA proved fully as cooperative as Vicki had suggested and Celluci threw the membership list of the photography club on her lap as he climbed into the car."Anything else," he grumbled, starting the engine.

"You're the one who decided to stick around," Vicki pointed out, scanning the membership for names she recognized. No one looked familiar, so she folded it carefully and put it in her purse. "That's it for this morning. Let's head out to the farm, I'm desperate for a change of clothes." Although she'd had a lovely long shower behind the locked door of the motel bathroom, she was still wearing yesterday's shorts and shirt and they were both a bit the worse for wear.

"I was wondering what that smell was."

"p.i.s.s off, Celluci. You sure you can find your way out of the city?"

He could. Although he had to start from the police station to do it.

They drove in silence for a while, Vicki half dozing as she stared out the window at the pa.s.sing fields and trees and trees and fields and. ...

Suddenly she straightened. "I think you missed the turn."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't remember seeing that ruined schoolhouse before."

"Just because you didn't see it. ..."

"Look, I've been out this way three times now. Twice," she used the word to cut off his next comment, "in the daylight when I could see. I think you missed the turn.""You might be right," he conceded, searching the surrounding farmland for landmarks. "Should we turn around now or cut east at the next opportunity?"

"Well, county roads are usually laid out on a simple grid pattern. As long as we head south at the first opportunity we should be fine."

"The next east it is, then."

Vicki slid down in the seat and braced her knees against the dashboard. They both knew it would make more sense to turn around now and look for the correct crossroad, but Vicki was comfortable and relaxed for the first time in days and didn't think a few extra moments would make a difference. She understood Mike Celluci. He had come to represent the natural in the face of the supernatural, and that meant she could let her guard down in a way she couldn't with either Henry or the wer. If they turned and went back, the interlude would only be over that much earlier.

She didn't dare guess what Celluci's reasons were for driving on.

The side road they turned onto petered out in a farmyard after six kilometers. The farmer, not bothering to hide his amus.e.m.e.nt, gave them directions while his dog marked a rear tire. They'd driven past the south turnoff, thinking it was only a lane.

"This thing has more potholes than Spadina Avenue," Vicki grunted, blocking the ceiling's attempt to smack her in the head. "Do you think maybe you could slow down?"

"Just watch for the red barn."

The red barn had either fallen or faded; it certainly wasn't where the farmer had said. They finally turned east on the second crossroad, which after two kilometers swung around a gentle, banked curve and headed due south.

"We're going to end up back in London at this rate."Celluci sighed. "Hasn't anyone out here ever heard of street signs? There's a building up ahead. Let's see if we can get some coherent directions this time."

They'd turned into the driveway before Vicki recognized the white farm house.

"Lost again, Ms. Nelson?" Carl Biehn approached the pa.s.senger side of the car, brushing dirt off his hands.

Vicki smiled up at him. "Not this time, Mr. Biehn." She hooked a thumb back over her shoulder. "He was driving."

Carl bent so he could see into the car and nodded at Celluci who nodded back and said, "We seem to have taken a wrong turn."

"Easy to do in the country," the older man told him, straightening.

Vicki thought he looked tired. His eyes were ringed in purple shadows and the lines running past the corners of his mouth had deepened. "Trouble in the garden?" she asked, and wondered why he started.

"No. No trouble." He rubbed at a bit of mud dried to the edge of his thumb, his hands washing around and around themselves.

"Well, well, well. Lost again, Ms. Nelson?" The words were identical, but the tone sat just this side of insult. "I think you'll have to face the fact that some people aren't cut out for country life."

Vicki considered returning a smile as false as the one Mark Williams offered her but decided not to bother. She didn't like him; she didn't care if he knew it.

He pushed past his uncle and leaned into the car, resting one hand on the bottom edge of the open window. "I see this morning you've managed to lead someone else astray." His left hand stretched across Vicki into the car. "Mark Williams."

"Celluci. Michael Celluci."

They shook briefly. Vicki found herself tempted to take a bite out of the tanned arm as it withdrew. She restrained herself; time spent with the wer had obviously influenced her thinking.Besides, odds are I'd catch something disgusting.

"What happened to your head?" He sounded concerned.

"I had an accident." And it was none of his business.

"You weren't badly hurt?" Carl looked down over his nephew's shoulder, brow furrowed.

"Just a b.u.mp," Vicki a.s.sured him. He nodded, satisfied, and she shot Mark a look that warned against further questions.

"We're trying to get to the Heerkens farm." Celluci wore his neutral expression - not friendly, not unfriendly, just there. Vicki had one like it. She didn't bother to put it on.

"No problem. Three or four kilometers down this road and the first left. Their lane's about two K in." He laughed companionably. His breath spilled into the car, smelling like mint. "And about two K long once you get there."

"Nothing wrong with privacy," Celluci said mildly.

"Nothing at all," the other man agreed. He stood and spread his hands, the gold hair on his forearms glinting in the sun. "I'm all for it myself."Ibet you are,Vicki thought.And wouldn't Ijust love a look at the dirty little secrets your privacy hides. Probably good for five to ten just for starters. ...

"Ms. Nelson?" Carl had stopped rubbing at the dirt but he still appeared disturbed. "Will you be staying with the Heerkens long?"

"I hope not."

"That sounds almost like a prayer."

She sighed. "Maybe it is." She was staying until she nailed the b.a.s.t.a.r.d with the rifle and if prayer would help then she had nothing against it. Pushing her gla.s.ses up her nose, she turned to wave as Celluci did a three point turn in the driveway and headed back to the road.

Carl raised a strained hand in a reserved salute but Mark, who knew full well he hadn't been included in the farewell gesture, responded with a flamboyant movement of his arm.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" He half turned toward her, brows up. "You aren't actually asking my opinion, are you?"

"Celluci."

He pursed his lips and turned back to face the road. "The older man's upset by something, probably the younger - pity you can't choose your relatives. Given what you told me over breakfast and what I observed just now, my brilliant powers of deduction conclude you like Mr. Biehn, who I admit seems to be a decent sort, but you don't like Mr. Williams."

Vicki snorted. "Don't tell me you do?"

"He didn't seem so bad. Hey! Don't a.s.sault the driver."

"Then don't bulls.h.i.t me."

Celluci grinned. "What? You want your opinion confirmed? That's gotta be a first."

Vicki waited. She knew he wouldn't miss an opportunity to tell her what he thought.

"I think," he continued right on cue, "that Mark Williams would sell his own mother if he figured he could make a profit from the deal. I guarantee he's up to something else; his kind always are."

Vicki shoved at her gla.s.ses even though they were sitting firmly at the top of her nose. It'd be a cold day in h.e.l.l before Mark Williams had the discipline to become the kind of marksman who was picking off the wer.

Carl Biehn turned away the moment the car left the drive. He'd always been able to find peace in the garden but this morning it had eluded him. He kept hearing, over and over, the cry of the creature he had wounded in the night. It was not one of G.o.d's creatures so its pain should have no power to move him but he couldn't block the cry from his mind or his heart.

The Lord tested him, to see if his resolve was strong.

Evil must not be pitied, it must be cast out.

"Two cops." Mark Williams pursed his lips thoughtfully. "She seems to have brought in reinforcements."

It was too bad yesterday's accident hadn't removed the problem but, as he always said, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if Ms. Nelson's friend was here to investigate the crash, he'd been very careful to leave nothing on the car that would incriminate him.

On the other hand, with the two of them rummaging about, he'd better get a move on or between the police and his trigger-happy uncle, there'd be nothing left of his lovely little plan.

"Are you going to fight with my father again?"

"Not unless he fights with me."

Daniel turned and looked up at Stuart, who had risen as Vicki and Celluci came in and was now standing behind his chair growling low in his throat. "Daddy?"

Stuart ignored him. The two men locked eyes.

"Daddy? Can I bite him for you?"

Stuart started and glanced down at his son. "Can you what?"

"Can I bite him for you?" Daniel bared small white teeth.

"Daniel, you don't just go around biting people. You've been taught better than that."

The youngest wer narrowed his eyes. "You were going to," he pointed out.

"That's different."

"Why?""You'll understand when you're older."

"Understand what?"

"Well. ..." He shot a helpless look at Celluci who spread his hands, equally at a loss for an answer. "It's a ... man thing."

Daniel snorted. "I never get to bite anybody," he complained, kicked the screen door open, and stomped out into the yard.

Although laughter might be the spark in the tinder, Vicki couldn't help herself. She collapsed back onto the sagging couch, holding her sides and gasping for breath. "A man thing," she managed to wheeze finally, and started up harder than ever.

The two men looked down at her and then at each other, expressions identical.

"Stuart Heerkens-Wells."

"Michael Celluci."

"Is she with you?"

"Never saw her before in my life."

When Vicki came downstairs from changing her clothes, only Nadine was in the kitchen.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, shoving her gla.s.ses up her nose and setting her bag on the floor.

"Well, my daughters are out in the barn chasing rats, my son is hopefully wearing himself out chasing that frisbee. ..."

Vicki peered out the kitchen window and saw, to her surprise, Celluci throwing the frisbee for Shadow.

"What'she still doing here?"

"I think he's waiting for you."

Vicki sighed. "You know, when we turned in the lane, I thanked him for his help and told him to get lost.

I wonder what made me think he'd listen?"

"He's a man. I think you're expecting too much of him. Anyway, Rose and Peter are getting dressed to take you back into town and Tag's gone to check the flock."

Which reminded Vicki of something she'd meant to ask. "Tag? He doesn't look much like a Tag."

"Maybe not now," Nadine agreed, "but he was the youngest and the smallest in a set of triplets and I guess it suited him then."

"The smallest?"

Nadine grinned. "Yes, well, he grew."

Just then Celluci came into the kitchen leaving Shadow out on the lawn, tongue lolling, frisbee safe under both front paws. "Good, you're ready. Let's get going, it's almost noon. I hear Henry Fitzroy's still in bed." He kept himself from sneering but only just.

"He had a busy night."