"They don't want to sell," Beau said.
Stirling glared at him. The foreman just smiled softly.
"Are you saying that the entire project is off if this is the Bouvier family plot?" I asked Bayard. "Why, Lionel, you didn't tell me that."
"There was no need for you to know," Bayard said.
"Why wouldn't they want to sell the land for a million dollars?" Larry asked. It was a good question.
Stirling looked at him like he'd just appeared out of thin air. Evidently, the flunkies weren't supposed to talk. "Magnus and Dorcas Bouvier have only a restaurant, called Bloody Bones. It is nothing. I have no idea why they wouldn't want to be millionaires."
"Bloody Bones? What kind of name is that for a restaurant?" Larry asked.
I shrugged. "It doesn't exactly say bon appetit." I looked at Stirling. He looked angry but that was all. I would have bet a million dollars that he knew exactly why the Bouviers didn't want to sell. But it didn't show on his face. His cards were close to his chest and unreadable.
I turned to Bayard. There was an unhealthy flush to his cheeks, and he avoided my gaze. I'd play poker with Bayard any day. But not in front of his boss.
"Fine. I'll change into something more bulky and we'll go take a look." The pilot handed out my suitcase. The coverall and shoes were on top.
Larry came up to me. "Gee, I wished I'd thought of the coverall. This suit's not going to survive the trip."
I pulled out two pairs of coveralls. "Be prepared," I said.
He grinned. "Thanks."
I shrugged. "One good thing about being nearly the same size." I slipped off the black jacket, which left the gun in plain sight.
"Ms. Blake," Stirling said. "Why are you armed?"
I sighed. I was tired of Raymond. I hadn't even gone up the hill and I didn't want to go. The last thing I wanted to do was stand here and debate whether I needed a gun. The red blouse was short-sleeved. Visual aids are always better than lectures.
I walked over to him with my arms bent outward, exposing the inside of both forearms. There's a rather neat knife scar on my right arm, nothing too dramatic. My left arm is a mess. It had only been a little over a month since a shapeshifting leopard had opened my arm. A nice doctor had stitched it back together, but there is only so much you can do with claw marks. The cross-shaped burn scar that some inventive vampire servants had put on me was now a little crooked because of the claws. The mound of scar tissue at the bend of my arm where a vampire had bitten through the flesh and gnawed the bone dribbled white scars like water.
"Jesus," Beau said.
Stirling looked a touch pale but he held up well, like he'd seen worse. Bayard looked green. Ms. Harrison paled so that the makeup floated on her suddenly pale skin like impressionist water lilies.
"I don't go anywhere unarmed, Mr. Stirling. Live with it, because I have to."
He nodded, eyes very serious. "Fine, Ms. Blake. Is your assistant armed as well?"
"No," I said.
He nodded again. "Fine. Change, and when you're ready we'll go up."
Larry was zipping up his coverall when I walked back. "I could have been armed, you know," he said.
"You brought your gun?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Unloaded in your suitcase?"
"Just like you told me."
"Good." I let it go. Larry wanted to be a vampire executioner as well as an animator, which meant he needed to know how to use a gun. A gun with silver-plated bullets that could slow a vampire down. We'd work up to shotguns, which could take out a head and heart from a relatively safe distance. Beat the hell out of staking.
I'd gotten him a carry permit on the condition he didn't carry it concealed until I thought he was a good enough shot not to blow a hole in himself or me. I'd gotten him the permit mainly so we could carry it around in the car and go to the range in any spare moments.
The coverall went over the skirt like magic. I took off the heels and put the Nikes on. I left the coverall unzipped enough that I could go for the gun if needed, and I was set to go.
"Are you going up with us, Mr. Stirling?"
"Yes," he said.
"Then lead the way," I said.
He walked past me, glancing at the coveralls. Or maybe visualizing the gun under it. Beau started to follow but Stirling said, "No, I'll take her up alone."
Silence among the three flunkies. I'd expected Ms. Harrison to stay behind in her high-heeled pumps, but I'd been sure the two men would come along. So, from the looks on their faces, had they.
"Wait a minute. You said 'her.' You want Larry to wait down here, too?"
"Yes."
I shook my head. "He's in training. You can't learn if you don't see it done."
"Will you be doing anything that he needs to see today?"
I thought about that for a minute. "I guess not."
"I do get to come up after dark?" Larry asked.
"You'll get to see the down and dirty, Larry. Don't worry."
"Of course," Stirling said. "I have no problem with your associate doing his job."
"Why can't he come along now?" I asked.
"At the price we're paying, humor me, Ms. Blake."
He was being strangely polite, so I nodded. "Okay."
"Mr. Stirling," Bayard said, "are you sure you should go up alone?"
"Why ever not, Lionel?"
Bayard opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "No reason, Mr. Stirling."
Beau shrugged. "I'll tell the men to go home for the day." He started to turn away, then stopped. "Do you want the crew back tomorrow?"
Stirling looked at me. "Ms. Blake?"
I shook my head. "I don't know yet."
"What's your best guess?" he asked.
I looked over at the waiting men. "Do they get paid whether they show up or not?"
"Only if they show up," Stirling said.
"Then no work tomorrow. I can't guarantee they'll have anything to do."
Stirling nodded. "You heard her, Beau."
Beau looked at me, then back to Stirling. He had a strange took on his face, half amused, half something I couldn't read. "Anything you say, Mr. Stirling, Ms. Blake." He turned and strode off over the raw ground, waving at the men as he moved. The men began to leave long before he got to them.
"What do you want us to do, Mr. Stirling?" Bayard asked.
"Wait for us."
"The helicopter, too? It has to leave before dark."
"Will we be down before dark, Ms. Blake?"
"Sure. I'm just going to take a quick look around. I'll need to get back in here after dark, though."
"I'll give you a car and driver for your stay."
"Thanks."
"Shall we, Ms. Blake?" He motioned me forward. Something had changed in the way he was treating me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I didn't like it.
"After you, Mr. Stirling."
He nodded and took the lead, striding over the red earth in his thousand-dollar shoes.
Larry and I exchanged glances. "I won't be long, Larry."
"Us flunkies aren't going anywhere," he said.
I smiled. He smiled. I shrugged. Why did Stirling want it to be just the two of us? I watched the senior partner's broad back as he marched across the torn earth. I followed him. I'd find out what the secrecy was all about when we got to the top. I was betting I wouldn't like what I'd hear. Just me and the big cheese on top of the mountain with the dead. What could be better?
Chapter 4
The view from the top of the mountain was worth the hike. Trees stretched out and out to the horizon. We stood in a circle of forest that showed no hand of man as far as the eye could see. That first blush of green was more pronounced here. But the thing you noticed most was the lavender color of redbuds through the dark trees. Redbuds are such delicate things that if they came out in the height of summer they'd get lost in all the leaves and flowers, but here with nothing but na**d trees the redbuds were eye-catching. A few dogwoods had started to bloom, adding their white to the lavender. Spring in the Ozarks, ah.
"The view is magnificent," I said.
"Yes," Stirling said, "it is, isn't it?"
My black Nikes were covered in rust-colored dirt. The raw, wounded earth filled the mountaintop. This hilltop had probably been just as pretty as the rest once. There was an arm bone sticking out of the dirt next to my feet. The lower arm, judging from the length. The bones were slender and still connected by a dry remnant of tissue.