Blood Trail

if it became necessary.

    "Look," she said just before they reached Highbury Avenue, "if you're going to hang around, you might as well make yourself useful."

    He scowled suspiciously. "Doing what?"

    "Turn right. You're going to pay a visit to the OPP for me," she had to give him credit for brains, he understood the reason for the visit immediately.

    "You haven't got the firearms registration list, have you? Why the hell not?"

    "Well ..." Vicki flicked the air-conditioner vents back and forth a time or two. "The OPP and I had a little misunderstanding." She hated admitting even that much, knowing that Celluci would blow it all out of proportion.

    "I'll bet," he grunted and, to her surprise, let it drop.

    Twenty minutes later when he came out of the station, he made up for his silence.

    "A little misunderstanding?" He slammed the car door and twisted around to glare at her.
    "Vicki, you may have destroyed any chance of provincial cooperation with local police forces for now and for always. What the hell did you say?"

    She told him.

    He shook his head. "I'm amazed the Duty Sergeant let you leave the building alive."

    "I take it then that you didn't get the list."

    "Dead on, Sherlock, but I did get an earful concerning proper police procedure."

    "Damn it! I need that list."

    "Should've thought of that before you made the crack about his mother." Celluci stopped the car at the parking lot exit. "Which way?"

    "Left." Vicki waited until he'd maneuvered the car around the turn and into traffic before she added. "I want you to pick up a membership list from the Y."

    "Have you alienated them, too?"

    She supposed it was a legitimate question, all things considered. "No, but I have no right to ask them for the list and they have no reason to hand it over. You, however, are a cop." She poked him in the biceps. "Nice people, like those at the Y, are used to trusting the police. If you ask them for their firstborn child, they'll hand the little nipper over."

    "You want me to lie for you?"

    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."

    "Piss 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 passing 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