Biting Bad (Chicagoland Vampires 8)

"Charla, why didn't Alan wipe the tapes?" I wondered aloud. "He's in charge of building security, right?"

"He thought he did," Charla said. "Our hard drive was clean, as was the backup we stored on-site. But when Celina announced your existence, I retained a backup service to store copies of the videos off-line, just in case things deteriorated. It was nearly a year ago. He must have forgotten."

She looked away for a moment, shaking her head ruefully. "He told me he watched the tapes, that there was nothing on them. That the inspection was just like normal, the same inspectors, the standard questions about packaging and quality control. He lied to my face about this. My own brother." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. So very sorry."

Ethan shook his head. "There is nothing to feel guilty about, Charla. You didn't create this problem, or this drama. You undertook to do something we don't see others doing very often. Grieve for your family, for your brother. But know that you are the reason we will close this loop. Because you took the time to care."

Ethan knew how to make a speech, and he knew how to motivate. And by the sudden change in Charla's posture, he'd done the job effectively.

"That helps," she said.

"I'm glad, but I didn't say it to help. I meant it. Your family has provided for ours for decades, even when others would not. And now you've come to us with information you could have easily ignored. We need more people like you. Chicago would be better for it."

Charla's eyes welled again, but these were clearly the good kind of tears.

"Sorry," she said, waving a hand. "I'm just really emotional today."

"No apologies necessary," Ethan said. "Merit has told me about cathartic tears."

She looked at Ethan for a moment the way a person might inspect a beautiful, but confusing, piece of artwork. Then she burst out laughing.

"Right?" I said. "Four hundred years old and he doesn't know about relief crying."

"There are worse sins," she said, looking back at Ethan. "What should I do now?"

"We'll need to talk to Alan. Where can we find him?"

"The lab. He'll be in the lab. He's always in the lab."

"Are your people safe from Alan? Your employees?"

She nodded. "The irony is, I don't think he'd really hurt anyone on purpose. He's a vegetarian, for God's sake. He doesn't even want to hurt animals."

"Greed can make people act very irrationally," Ethan said. "Try to go about your business as normal, but perhaps keep an extra bit of security on the blood supply. If he tries to offer you money again for the business, perhaps you hear him out because he has so much more to give. Act like you're seriously considering the offer. That will keep him calm in the meantime, and keep him from making any rash decisions."

The plan in place, Charla nodded decisively and stood up. "I'll do that exactly. Thank you again for your understanding."

"Thank you for yours," he said. "And let us know if you need anything else."

She nodded, but she'd gone quiet. I could see her retreating into her head, mulling over what she'd seen, replaying conversations. It was exactly the kind of thing I'd do in the face of such betrayal.

We saw her back to the front door, then paused in the foyer. Ethan looked at me. "You were right about McKetrick."

"I was guessing about McKetrick. It just seemed his kind of operation. Too smart, too crafty for kids with bad attitudes."

"I'll grab the DVDs," Ethan said. "Go ahead downstairs and advise Luc. I'll be right down."

"Roger that," I said. As Ethan disappeared down the hallway, I made for the stairs, glancing back when the House's front door opened again.

Jonah appeared in the doorway, coat swirling in the winter wind. "Was that Charla Bryant I just saw leaving?"

"It was. What are you doing here?"

"Scott heard about your grandfather, sends his best wishes. And I think, instead of sending get-well balloons, he sent me to help with the riots."

I looked at him for a second. "How many balloons would it have been, exactly?"

"Smart-ass," Jonah said.

"Actually, you'll be glad you came," I assured him. "As it turns out, our paranoia has been validated."

"So I guess I'll have to respect you now."

"It would be a good start. Let's get downstairs."

-

The Ops Room became our gathering point once again. Luc and Lindsey were at the table, Kelley and Juliet outside.

Luc dialed up Jeff and Catcher as soon as Jonah and I walked through the door, apparently anticipating developments in the investigation, but we waited until Ethan walked through the door, DVD in hand, to get started.

"What's this?" Luc asked, glancing at it.

"It's a DVD," Lindsey said. "It stores videos or information."

"Hi-larious," Luc said.

"It's a video of the Blood4You lab," Ethan said, taking a seat at the table. I walked over to the whiteboard and erased our prior bad guesses. And as Ethan narrated the DVDs, I filled in the appropriate blanks.

"The video shows John McKetrick exchanging some sort of payoff with Alan Bryant, Charla Bryant's brother. But they argue, presumably because McKetrick doesn't get what he wants."

"That's something," Luc said.

"Oh, that's hardly the preface," Ethan said. "McKetrick comes back, takes a file, and torches the lab . . . right before the riot starts."

"Alan tried to erase the tapes," I said, "and obviously failed."

"Off-site backup?' Jeff asked.

"Off-site backup," I confirmed.

"What was the payoff for?" Luc asked.

"We aren't certain. Information that's worth five hundred thousand dollars to McKetrick, at any event."

"Good God," Luc said.

"Alan Bryant knows blood and biochemistry," I said. "So presumably McKetrick wants information to do with that. But what?"

It was a chilling question.

"And so we circle round again to McKetrick," Ethan said.

"I'm sending Detective Jacobs a message," Catcher said. "This is Chicago, so getting to McKetrick is going to take a little finessing. But I think we can have the CPD pick Alan up. I've only met him the once, but he strikes me as the type to flip easily. Maybe we can get something useful."

Ethan nodded authoritatively. "Thank you, Catcher. We appreciate it."

"Why is McKetrick doing this?" Lindsey asked. "Because he hates us?"