Page 48 of Whispers at Dusk
He wasn’t alone. Three uniformed officers had arrived as well.
“Wilhelm, the arrest is yours. But we’ll need to interrogate them,” Mason said.
“And I believe we need a forensic team,” Della said, indicating the medical bag and the strewn contents.
“Of course,” Wilhelm said. “The station will provide the room we need for these two.”
“We’ll all head in,” Mason said.
“They must be processed, but you will be able to interrogate, of course, when it’s done. But take your time. I believe Forensics is right behind us,” Wilhelm said. “Jensen, one of our officers, will watch over the scene until they arrive, if you wish to speak with them first, but...” He paused, shrugging. “We’ll keep them separate, wondering, waiting.”
“I will head with back Wilhelm,” Bisset said.
Mason nodded and looked at Della. She walked around to him, and he told her he had a car back on the dirt road before the turn.
The forensic team arrived before Mason, Della, and Wilhelm left. Wilhelm paused to speak with the head of the team. Then Della quickly explained she’d set herself up purposely—and the pair had been about to take her blood. She told them about the bag.
She suggested there might be a fair amount of DNA to be found on the various instruments, linking them to the murders.
Wilhelm drove the unmarked car and headed out just in front of Mason and Della.
They left the scene and drove back toward Lillehammer.
“You took a hell of a chance,” Mason told Della.
“I knew you were behind me. And your timing was impeccable,” she said.
Mason smiled, his eyes on the road. “Well, I saw you switch the glasses.”
“You did? And I thought I was so subtle and crafty.”
“You were. I was watching—and I knew what you were planning. Of course, I knew you were carrying your little Baby Browning. Still, when the car came, I had a bad moment. Interpol may be the liaison agency, but Bisset was right on. He had a car to me before you were down the street. Now that was lucky. I was afraid once you were in a car, I’d lose you.”
“But you didn’t. And, as I said, your timing was impeccable. Like your aim.”
He was silent for a minute and then let out a long breath.
She thought they were maybe having a moment that might break down the strange barrier he seemed to keep erected against her and perhaps everyone else.
“Seriously, you did the absolute right thing, perfect snap decision-making,” she told him sincerely.
“Della, I admit there was something in me shaking me up, and I didn’t want to take any more lives. But...part of that had to do with the fury I felt when my partner was killed. I didn’t want to shoot the guy who did it—I wanted to skin him alive. Obviously, I didn’t act on the feeling, but it was so intense it scared the hell out of me. Anyway, I know how Wilhelm is feeling right now. Though we haven’t known him long, it’s been long enough for me to know how he feels—but he’s too good of a law enforcement officer to act on it.”
“It’s difficult,” she agreed. “I wasn’t with the Krewe long before I met you in the bayou, and I was just with the Bureau about a year before that. One of the first cases I worked had to do with a man who killed nurses. We brought him in, and I know he was recently sentenced to seven consecutive life sentences—he’ll never get out. But I also know some of the loved ones of those he killed felt the same thing—they didn’t really want us to bring him in. They wanted him to die. Because loss is painful. I had to convince one husband the kind of prison sentence the man was receiving would make him pay for years and years. Death would have ended any earthly pain too quickly.”
“And did he believe you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But at the very least, we could give the victims justice—and keep him from killing anyone else. And today... Well, if shooting one of them point-blank would have saved my life, I’d have expected you to do so. In case, however—”
“We need them alive.”
“Yes, we need to find the Master.”
“The Master. A master vampire. Here’s where I’m curious. They haven’t killed any men—that we know of. They took Scott Harrington out—probably very near where they took you today—and shared blood with him. Blood they claimed to be their own. I’m assuming they had taken the first step to bring him into their fold. But is there really a master vampire? And if so, just how many people has he convinced that killing is just and right, and drinking blood will give them eternal life?”
“There are cultists who believe the world is flat,” Della reminded him. “Tell a lie often enough and it becomes a truth—at least to some.”
“Apparently. Okay, here’s another. The men are supposed to kill young beautiful women. But the blonde—”
