The Gerard house was dark and silent, as was the rest of the neighborhood. Considering it was about four in the morning, this wasn't a big shock.
I wasn't sure if Cherry was sleeping or if she'd gone to the hospital with Mel and not yet returned.
Either way, 1 wasn't going to interview her until a more humane part of the morning.
By then I'd be able to read over Brad's notes. I patted my pocket, relieved to discover the notebook was still there. I'd forgotten about it in all the excitement. If I was lucky, Brad had done a bang-up job and my interview with Cherry would be blessedly short. But I wasn't counting on it.
I checked in with Zee. I should have known better.
"Christ on a crutch, Jessie. Where have you been?"
"With Mandenauer. In the woods. Where else?"
"You were gone half the night. Isn't he some hot-shit hunter? Like you."
"He's right here."
I slid a glance at Mandenauer, but he'd leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. At his age it was definitely past his bedtime.
"I didn't think you'd left him in the woods," Zee snarled.
She obviously couldn't care less if she insulted our guest. Why should he be any different from the rest of the planet?
"Did you get anything?" she asked.
"One."
"What did it look like?"
I frowned at the radio. What an odd question. Besides, I had no idea. I'd only seen the wolf through the flames.
"Cinnamon-shaded female," Mandenauer said, his eyes still closed. "About one year old."
I repeated the information to Zee. Silence came over the line. That was a first. I shook the mike. "Zee?
Where'd you go?"
She coughed - long and hard - her lifelong smoker's hack. By all rights, she should be dead from the cigarettes, if not the mileage. In the end, the force of her cough would probably be the death of Zelda Hupmen.
"Sorry," she wheezed. "Got a call. Since it's been so damn boring for the last hour, I couldn't contain my excitement."
"You want me to take it?"
"Nope. Nothing but a dead deer on the road. Officer is already en route. Why don't you take creepy-crawly home and then go there yourself?"
"Now?"
"Now. You came on early today and stayed late yesterday. Clyde told me to even out the overtime. He can't afford it."
There was the Clyde I knew.
Ten minutes later I parked next to the car Mandenauer indicated was his. Long and black, all it needed was curtains on the windows to be mistaken for a hearse.
"Any dead bodies in the back?" I asked.
Mandenauer sniffed. "This is a Cadillac. A classic. Worth three times what I have paid for it."
"You must have paid a penny."
Mandenauer ignored my jibe, climbed in his car, and rumbled into the fading night. I climbed the steps to my apartment, the bandolier still strung across my chest, my rifle unfired. At least I wouldn't have to clean the thing tonight. I planned to dive right into bed as soon as I put all my weapons away.
I was tired - an unusual occurrence for me. Even when I had a night off I stayed up until breakfast and slept through the day. I know I'm backward - just ask my mother.
But I'd found that keeping to a schedule made my schedule easier to keep. Most people who worked third shift attempted to live like real folks when they weren't working. This, in my opinion, was what led to them being too tired to function for most of their life.
At any rate, I was exhausted at 4:00 a.m. and that just wasn't like me. Which was my only excuse for not noticing right away that I wasn't alone when I stepped into my apartment.
I unloaded the rifle as I walked down the hall and into my bedroom. Call me paranoid, but a loaded gun in the house is a very bad idea.
Replacing the weapon in the safe, I hung the bandolier alongside it and locked the door. I drew the totem over my head and laid it on the dresser. I'd learned my lesson about wearing the thing to bed. It had taken all day for the red marks to fade.