Twenty-two

When I reported to the station in the morning, there were protestors outside it. Not many, only three or four, but it gave me shivers to see the signs and hear their chants.

“No more lies, no more evasion!” the protestors called in unison, marching in a circle and hoisting homemade placards. “No more sanctuary for Satanism!”

I slipped past them.

The mood in the station was grim. In the conference room, the chief slammed both hands down on the table. “Tell me we know something,” he said. “Tell me we’re making progress.”

Detective Wilkes cleared his throat. “Let me give you a rundown. Thad Vanderhei, Mike Huizenga, and Kyle Middleton are clean, no priors, no red flags. Ditto for Matthew Mollenkamp, the Triton House alum the brother cited. We’ve got no references on the Masters of the Universe. As far as anyone knows, it’s nothing but an old cartoon. We also ran the number Miss Johanssen gave us for Ray D, but it’s a dead end. Prepaid disposable cell phone, no longer in service.”

“Sounds like it’s time to bring the vic’s friends back in for another chat,” Chief Bryant observed. “We’ve got enough leverage to make them sweat.”

“It’s not going to be easy.” The detective looked disgruntled. “The Middleton boy’s parents picked him up and took him home to Indiana. The Huizenga boy’s been sent off on a church retreat.” He slid a piece of paper from a file. “And the Vanderheis have lawyered up on behalf of both of them. They’ve already given sworn statements. Looks like anything further’s going to take a subpoena. And given the fact that our key eyewitnesses are, um, undines, that could be a problem.”

“What the hell is wrong with these people?” the chief said in frustration.

“I don’t think they want to know the truth,” I said quietly. “Parental instincts are telling them they’re not going to like it. And I have a feeling they’re right.”

Chief Bryant heaved a sigh. “Despite the collegiate culture of prolonged adolescence, in the eyes of the law, those so-called boys are grown men. One way or another, they will be held accountable. What else have you got, Tim?”

The detective ran a finger over his tidy mustache. “A possible lead on another known associate of the elusive Ray D. According to one Bruce ‘Red’ Henderson, a member of the Outcasts currently enjoying a stay in the county correctional facility, Ray D had recently acquired an unusual lady friend, a fellow ghoul by the name of Mary Sudbury. Where you find one, you’ll find the other. Red was quite adamant on that score.”

“Ring any bells?” I asked Cody.

“No,” he said. “My contacts weren’t as forthcoming. But it’s definitely worth checking out. Your undines did say there was a man and a woman in that boat. What about the bartender? Jerry Dunham?”