Blood Trail

No two cars are exactly alike."

    All right, it made sense, bad luck and nothing more had put her and Rose and Peter in the car when that little mistake had paid off. Jesus, if you can't count on a BMW. ...

    Except. ... There were two spots bracketing the tear where the yellow markings on the hose showed brighter, places where accumulated dirt could have rubbed off on someone's fingers as they gave that little mistake a helping hand. Careful not to touch the rubber, Vicki pressed her finger against the protruding bit of metal that had done the actual damage. While not exactly sharp, it held a definite edge.

    "Suppose you wanted to hole someone's brakeline and yet made it look like an accident," she gestured down into the engine, "how long would it take you to duplicate that?"

    The mechanic looked speculative. "Not long."

    They'd been in the restaurant for an hour and a half. Plenty of time.

    Intrigued by the idea, he reached down into the car. "I'd grab it here ..."

    "Don't touch it!"

    He jerked back as though stung. "You don't think. ..."

    "I don't think I want to take any chances. I want you to call the police. I have the number of the officer at the scene if you don't."

    "No. I got it."

    "Good. Tell him you've found suspicions of tampering and, if nothing else, they should take prints." She had her own small kit, not exactly high tech but certainly up to lifting prints off greasy hoses. If, however, police technology could be brought to bear, so much the better.
    "Why don't you call?"

    "Because you're the expert."

    He scowled at her for a moment then sighed and said, "Okay, lady. You win. I'll call."

    "Now," she suggested.

    "Okay. Now. You don't touch nothing while I'm gone."

    "Fine. And you don't touch anything until the ident man has come and gone."

    The scowl returned. He went two steps, stopped, and looked back. "Someone tried to kill you, eh?"

    "Maybe." Or Peter. Or Rose.

    He shook his head, his expression hovering between respect and disgust. "Bet it isn't the first time." He continued to the office without waiting for a reply.

    Vicki rubbed her right thumb against the faint scars on her left wrist, saw again the inhuman smile, and heard the demon say, "So you are to be the sacrifice." A trickle of sweat that had nothing to do with the heat ran down between her breasts and behind it, she could feel her heart begin to race. Death had been so close that a shadow of it remained long after the substance had been defeated. With practiced skill, she pushed the memory away and buried it deep.

    The world outside the memory seemed strange for a moment then she shook her head and forced herself back to the present. Out by the car, Rose was telling Celluci some kind of story that involved a great deal of arm waving, Peter hovering protectively at her side. When Celluci laughed at something Rose said, Vicki saw Peter's shoulders stiffen.

    "Peter! Could you come here, please?"

    Reluctantly, he came.

    She nodded toward the car. "What are the odds that you could pick up someone's scent off a rubber brake-line?"

    Peter glanced down into the engine and wrinkled his nose. "Slim to none. The smell of the brake fluid is kind of strong. Why?"

    Vicki saw no point in lying, the wer already knew they were under the threat of death. "I think someone engineered yesterday's accident."

    "Wow. Henry's going to be pissed."

    "Henry?"

    "Well, they totaled his car."

    "And almost killed us," Vicki reminded him.

    "Oh. Yeah."

    The office door opened and the mechanic walked back into the garage. He didn't look thrilled.
    "Okay. I called. He says someone'll come around. Later." He glared at the car and then up at Vicki. "He says he wants to talk to you. Don't leave town."

    "I wouldn't dream of it. Thanks, you've been a big help."

    He returned her smile with a snort and pointedly bent to work on a late model, blue Saab that had seen better days.

    Vicki recognized a dismissal when she saw it. As there was nothing more she could do here, she even decided to pay attention to it. "Come on, Peter."

    Frowning thoughtfully, Peter followed her out of the garage.

    "What?" she asked as they crossed the parking lot to Celluci's car.

    "It's probably nothing, but while you were talking to Mr. Sunshine I had a sniff around the edges of the hood. I mean, if someone messed with the brakes they had to get the hood open first." He took a deep breath. "Anyway, for just a second there, I thought I caught a scent I recognized.