(Scarlett MacAleister)
Scarlett arrived the next night at a diner in Raconteur City. She was meeting with her contact from the sheriff¡¯s department there to see if she could get her hands on the Rhames autopsy files, as well as anything else her source could give her.
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She walked into the diner dressed a little more conservatively than she had been the prior evening in New Orleans. She¡¯d traded the skintight leather bodysuit for a pair of faded jeans, holes ripped in the knees, heels, a green blouse and a black leather jacket ¨C no duster or sword for this evening. A pair of glasses topped off her attempt at looking as ordinary as she could.
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The redhead for Jackson Sage seated in a booth the back of the diner. Sitting down across from him, the young cop looked up and glanced around to make sure she wasn¡¯t followed.
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¡°I wasn¡¯t followed,¡± she muttered.?
¡°Never can be too careful,¡± he replied, brushing back some of his brown locks. ¡°I could get my ass fired for giving you anything.¡±
?¡°And I could turn over those pictures of you and your captain¡¯s wife to him, I¡¯ll bet he¡¯d love to see those,¡± Scarlett quipped.
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Jackson frowned and slid a folder across to her. She noticed he had a second folder, closely tucked under his arm atop the table. The redhead looked down, opened the folder and looked through the contents.
?¡°Everything on Rhames. Good,¡± she said. ¡°What¡¯s the word around the department.¡±
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?¡°Rhames was a dealer. Nobody gives a shit,¡± Sage scoffed. ¡°Not sure why you even care.¡±
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?¡°It¡¯s business,¡± she replied, still absorbing the contents of the folder. ¡°You¡¯d think the cops you work with would want to catch whoever mutilated this kid.¡±
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¡°He¡¯s a scumbag. They don¡¯t care,¡± Jackson said. She looked up at him and saw a look on his face that despite the fact he was playing tough, the contents of the folder bothered him. The autopsy photos were gruesome, though Scarlett had seen much worse. He was also just slightly interested in seeing the perp caught.
¡°Tell me again why you¡¯re riding a desk?¡± she asked him.
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¡°Questions over missing drug money from the evidence locker,¡± he said. ¡°They said if I didn¡¯t take it, I knew who did. So I¡¯m on desk duty until they can figure out what happened.¡±
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Scarlett nodded, ¡°So the captain finding out what you and his old lady were doing¡¡±
¡°Would be the last nail in my coffin,¡± he said uncomfortably.
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¡°So, when are you planning to give me the second folder?¡± she finally asked, closing the first folder and looking across the table at Jackson over the rims of her glasses.
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He sighed and pushed it over to her, ¡°Looks like Raconteur PD is working an identical case. Kid named William Wright¡Billy. Young, dealing drugs for the Jamaicans. Found in a similar manner.¡±
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Scarlett was looking over the file as Jackson gave her the narrative. Again, the report sounded like the cops didn¡¯t care. They were chalking both up to rival gangs, possibly yakuza, especially with Rhames¡¯ ties to Nakamura.? She exhaled sharply and looked up at Sage, ¡°You hear any more on these cases or anything like it, call me.¡±
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He eyed her for a moment, then decided to talk, ¡°I do this for you, and you give me the photos? Otherwise, we¡¯re done here.¡±
The redhead smiled, ¡°I suppose that¡¯s fair. You help me get EVERYTHING on this case, keep me in the loop, and when either I or your cop buddies catch whoever is doing this, I¡¯ll play nice and give you the photos.¡±
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Sage nodded, ¡°This¡whatever did this¡it¡¯s not normal is it?¡±
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¡°I see you have astute investigation skills,¡± she said. ¡°They did teach you something in cop school, didn¡¯t they? Yes, Jackson, this isn¡¯t some gangster with a sword chopping people up. The cops know it, but they won¡¯t acknowledge it, part of the reason why they aren¡¯t investigating.¡±
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Jackson looked a little pale, ¡°You¡¯re not normal either. I¡¯ve heard the rumors. About the vampires, about you.¡±
Scarlett looked around cautiously, ¡°Keep it down. I¡¯m going to let you believe what you want, Jackson. You keep getting me information. Call or text when you have something more.¡±
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¡°I can trust you?¡±
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Scarlett gathered the folders and stood up. Looking down at Jackson, she smiled, purposely showing her fangs for just a second¡enough to surprise the young policeman. ¡°You can, as long as you don¡¯t fuck with me. Got it?¡±
Sage nodded and Scarlett turned and walked toward the door. The night was young. She¡¯d seen pictures of the articles found on Wright¡¯s body. One of the items was a matchbox with the name Eddie¡¯s BBQ on the cover. It wasn¡¯t far, so she decided to check it out.
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The redhead took her motorcycle and rode the few short blocks to the restaurant. She parked the sleek black bike and walked across the parking lot toward the doors of the restaurant¡
