Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

tonight. Travis nodded his head at me, as if I'd spoken my thoughts out loud.
    "We've already set you up as a target. Nobody's going to tell the bad guys we've decided to take a little break. I think we're going to have a little change in the orders… since I'm the lead on this case," he said.
    "I thought you said we were shut down?"
    Travis leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss. Not the slow and sexy, not the hot and hungry. This was the guy I was supposed to meet here… the businessman out for an adventure in the Big Easy. "Play along, Sam. We'll go ahead and finish our show, here, then I'm going to take you home with me. We'll see if we can't draw them out tonight. Now that we're sure the target's on your back, you aren't going anywhere alone."
    CHAPTER 4
    "He's still out there," Travis said. He let the blinds slip from his hand with a barely perceptible movement. "We have complete confirmation now that you are at least of interest to this guy. It has to be connected to the attacks. It's too much of a coincidence to believe that a random guy is following you and watching you pick up white guys. The last three victims all were in the Quarter, in the same bars. This feels right."
    "It's not even midnight, yet," I said. "None of the other attacks happened this early. Given the number of calls he's made on his cell phone, he must be calling in the others, don't you think?"
    "I do think. That's exactly why we have to wrap this tonight. We aren't going to get any more help, you know."
    "Yeah, I gathered that from what you said at the club. Tell me again about the other murders?"
    "I don't know much more than what Maxine said on the phone. She wants us in on the briefing at change of shift. They working theory is it's some Goth role-playing group that's decided they're vampires. They are selecting young vics, ages eighteen to twenty-five, so far… all people out alone in dark, lonely areas. The profiler thinks one of the killers must have some knowledge of embalming, since each body has been drained and the cause of death is blood loss. Five bodies in three days. Feebs are on the way, and now the press has gotten a hold of it. With a tag like Vampire murders here in New Orleans? I can understand why it's a huge priority, even if I don't like what it does to our case," he finished.
    "Jesus. All right, then how do you want to handle this, tonight?"
    "I think we wait a couple of hours, let the rest of his pack arrive. Then you head out, like we're done with our hook up. I'll follow, but far enough behind so that we get them between us. One obvious danger is if they try to surround you first, but there aren't any blind alleys if you walk west from here toward Armstrong Park."
    "And every cop in the city is in that direction—"
    "Exactly. We'll call in an anonymous 911 about a possible mugging just before you head out the door. That should get some uniforms to roll to the general vicinity. You'll have to turn and confront them, but don't worry, I'll have your back."
    "As far as plans go… that's possibly the worst I've ever heard." I laughed at the wonderful absurdity of the idea.
    "Yeah, I know." Then Travis grinned back. "That's what makes this fun. Now here's a map, let's walk through this step-by-step. You have your weapon, right?"
    We spent another half hour discussing every possible contingency. Doorways, alley entrances, dark corners… we reviewed until we'd identified the likely choice of the ambush site. Then we picked our own spot. I would lead them in the direction we wanted. Going against the traffic on a one-way street so they wouldn't be able to get a vehicle there and would have to follow on foot. My pace would be brisk, until just before the spot we'd chosen for our own version of the ambush. Three of them, two of us.
    As of yet, they'd never shown any of their victims a gun, and between Travis and me, we had four. Yes, it might be loose, but it felt very right to me. I was surprised to realize that I trusted my new partner. Because, like it or not, I was putting my life in his hands. There was no room for doubt, here. Like the promise I'd made to Jerome in the morgue. I've got you now . Only now, I was in Boudreaux's hands.
    We sat on the long couch, hip-to-hip, maps and photos spread on the low coffee table. Conversation had been brisk, energized by the planning stage, knowing we were finished with the surveillance and ready to take these pricks down.
    The room grew quiet. No more shuffling of paper,