Chapter 42
Aleksei paced through the trees
outside the restaurant, grateful for the infamous Seattle rain. While he knew all about Seattle's reputation for rain, he still couldn't believe his good luck. He had been concerned he'd have to alter his plans and wait until evening to capture Katie and bring her home to Alaska with him. But thanks to the rain, he would now be able to snatch her up as soon as she finished her shift and returned to the car he had watched her park a few hours earlier. He was certain this unexpected dose of good fortune was a sign that he was making the right move in abandoning his quest to replace Natasha. It was fate, and he knew without a doubt that it was finally time to say goodbye to his beloved Natasha and start a new life. Katie was meant to be his Katerina.
Aleksei's body tingled as he watched the back door of the restaurant open, and Katie step outside. She was wearing her work uniform of khakis and a navy t-shirt and she smiled at the older man at her side carrying two bags of garbage. Aleksei knew the man was the owner of the restaurant, Katie's grandfather. He also knew this was the last time the man would ever see his granddaughter.
He heard Katie laugh at something her grandfather said and watched her hug him before he disappeared back into the restaurant. Aleksei and Katie were alone in the nearly empty parking lot. If his heart was still beating, he knew he would have felt it beating right out of his chest. He licked his lips and approached Katie's car. He made no sound as he came up to Katie from behind.
“Excuse me,” he said.
Obviously startled, Katie whirled around to face him. He thought he saw a glimmer of recognition on her face. “Yes,” she said, her hand on the open door of her car.
“Do you remember me?” Aleksei asked. He pushed the car door closed, and leaned in towards Katie, his body towering over her 5”4' frame.
Katie tried to swallow her rising fear. She glanced towards the restaurant, willing her grandfather or one of the other employees to come out the back door. “Do you need something?” she asked.
“Just you.”
Katie's eyes widened and she moved away from the car. She turned to run to the restaurant, dropping her purse and phone on the ground next to her car.
Aleksei grabbed her and pulled her back towards him, immediately covering her mouth to silence the scream he knew would be coming next. He pulled Katie into the trees and out of sight of anyone in the restaurant, and turned her face towards his. He couldn't deny, he relished the terror in her eyes and the tears that had now mixed with the raindrops spattering her face.
“You're coming with me,” he whispered.
Katie tried to shake her head, but Aleksei held her still. He wrapped his arms around her neck, being careful not to break it. Sometimes even now, he forgot his own strength. It was a delicate balance, applying enough pressure to bring on unconsciousness but not enough to bring on suffocation. But he was used to the process by now. And Katie was putty in his hands.
Within seconds, she was unconscious in his arms. Aleksei smiled and lifted her off the ground, tossing her limp body over his shoulder. He had Katie out of Seattle and on the way back to Alaska long before anyone noticed the purse and phone left on the wet concrete of the restaurant parking lot.
Chapter 43
Danny rubbed his eyes and stared at the piles of papers and photos in front of him. The sheer amount of materials in the Russian archives was overwhelming and trying to find something about Aleksei Nechayev was worse than searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. He was frustrated, irritated, and wishing he had a drink.
He glanced over at Amanda, who was poring over a diary written by a WWI Russian soldier and wincing as she tried to make out the Russian scribbles.
“Have you found anything useful at all?” he asked.
“Don't you think I would have told you if I had?”
Danny shook his head. “This is a waste of time.”
“I don't think so.”
“I thought crap like this was supposed to be cataloged? Shouldn't we be able to just search for Nechayev?”
“We should, but the Archives doesn't have enough personnel to catalog and index everything. They try, but they're always behind.” She set the diary aside and picked up a folder stuffed with photographs from the Russian Revolution of 1917. “We're on our own.”
Danny sighed and rolled his chair across the room until he was next to Amanda. He grabbed an envelope containing photographs of WWI soldiers. “I guess I'll browse through these,” he said.
Amanda ignored him and continued to sift through her own stack of photos. Danny opened his envelope, and poured the contents on to the table in front of him. Faded black and white and sepia toned photos scattered, with a few dropping to the floor around his chair.
Looking up from her own work, Amanda frowned at him. “Be careful. These photos are valuable.”
“Spoken like a true librarian.”
“I'd say I'm speaking as a courteous person. The archivists are giving us free rein here. The least we can do is make sure we don't damage their materials.”
“You're right. I'll be more careful.”
Amanda nodded and returned to her photos, as Danny reached down to pick up the pictures he had dropped. He leafed through them, wandering about the serious young men he saw staring back at him. All were wearing the uniform of the Russian Imperial Troops, cloth caps tilted on their heads, loose-fitting tunics, and trousers tucked in boots. In addition, all of them looked much too young to be heading to war. He supposed that was one thing that never changed.
Danny flipped through more photos, and stopped on a shot of the Ninth Army Unit, dated November, 1916. Unlike the photos from the start of the War, these soldiers stared at the camera with eyes haunted by fatigue and hunger. The men were gaunt, and their uniforms hung loosely on their nearly emaciated bodies. Their cloth caps had been replaced by tattered fur hats, and their tunics were now covered with threadbare overcoats. He shook his head, wondering if any of these long-ago soldiers had survived the war.
He was about to place the photo back in the envelope when a soldier standing at the edge of the photo caught his eye. Unlike the majority of his comrades, his head was bare, leaving his obviously blond hair visible. While it was impossible to make out the color of his eyes in the black and white photo, they were clearly unusual, and their gaze pierced the camera lens. The man was significantly taller than any of the men around him, and his face was immediately recognizable to Danny. The man was Aleksei Nechayev.
“Amanda,” Danny said. “Look at this.”
Amanda lifted her eyes from her own work, and glanced at Danny. “Look at what?”
“This photo. Do you recognize this guy?” Danny pushed the photo towards her, and pointed to Aleksei.
Amanda picked up the photo and stared at it, her eyes instantly filling with tears. “That's him,” she said. “I know it. It's him.”
“I think so too.”
“He looks the same.”
“Exactly. This is the guy I saw in Coldfoot.”
Amanda's hands started to shake, and she set the photo back on the table. “So he was a WWI soldier?”
Danny leaned back in his chair, causing the wheels to screech on the tile floor. “We probably shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe this is his grandfather or some other relative.”
“Are you kidding me? Do we have to go over this again? Come on.”
“Alright, alright. I admit it. I think it's him, too.”
“So he is a vampire. I was right.”
“He's something, that's for sure. He's more than 100 years old and he looks the same as he did in 1916.”
“He's a vampire.”
Danny held up his hands. “Okay.”
The two stared at the photo in silence. Danny felt a return of the same chill he had felt in Coldfoot. If Amanda hadn't been seeing the same thing, he'd swear he was having some sort of hallucination. How could this be the same guy?
“So now what?” he said.
“Now we find out more about this unit. What happened to them in the War. If this was 1916, the start of the Revolution was right around the corner.”
“This is interesting, I'm not gonna deny it. But what the hell does it mean for my case? So we know Aleksei was a Russian soldier. So what? That doesn't help me find Maria.”
“But maybe it will if we can find out when he came here and where he started out. He must have another home here besides Coldfoot where he keeps his women...”
Danny rubbed his eyes again and shook his head. “Okay. It's not like I have anything else to go on. And I'm not wanted back at work anyway.”
Amanda looked over his head at the clock behind him. “Damn,” she said.
“What?”
“The archives is about to close. We need to clean all this up.”
“What? I'm not stopping now, not when we finally got something. I'll flash my badge at them and demand to stay longer.”
“That's not really fair to the employees. And you said yourself, it's not like we're going to find something you can use to nail Aleksei here. We can come back tomorrow bright and early.”
“I guess. We can do some searching for this unit on the Internet. I've got my Macbook back at the hotel.” Danny's face turned red as his stomach growled loudly. “And I guess I could use some dinner, too.”
Amanda smiled. “So could I. I can't believe we've been here all day and I didn't even think about lunch. I know a great place we can go. You can even get some beer.”
“That sounds a lot better than the food.”
The two stood up and hastily arranged the archival materials back into tidy piles, leaving their photo of Aleksei out so they could continue their research in the morning. Amanda grabbed Danny's hand and smiled at him.
“It's amazing to find him, isn't it? After all this time, I know he really is what I said he was.”
Danny tried his best to smile in return. “I'm glad for you. I know it must be satisfying.”
He watched as Amanda nearly skipped out the door ahead of him. He could understand her excitement, but he couldn't share it. He had already known Aleksei was a monster, but he had still hoped for some rational explanation, something that would prove Amanda had been wrong. He knew how to stop a human monster. But a real monster was something all together different. Whatever Aleksei was, Danny had no idea how to stop him.
Chapter 44
Danny bunched up his flat pillows
against the headboard of his hotel room bed and sat half up in bed, his back resting against the pillows. He reached his hand out to brush a lock of Amanda's hair out of her eyes, and tucked it behind her ear with his fingers. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn't sleeping. Her mouth curved into a smile as he caressed her cheek.
Danny hadn't planned to bring Amanda back to his hotel room, as he had sworn he would never sleep with a potential witness again, but after the two had finished their dinner at the restaurant Amanda had chosen, it seemed like the logical step. After all, what difference did it make if he slept with a witness again? He'd already crossed that line, so why worry about ethics now? And, what the hell else was there to do in Sitka, Alaska in the dark?
It dawned on him that Amanda was the first woman he'd slept with more than once since Caroline had died. He glanced down at her, and said as much.
“You know something? You're the first woman I've slept with twice since my wife died.”
Amanda opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Really?”
“Yeah. I've stuck to drunken one-night stands.” And not to many of those either, if he was being honest.
“I guess I should take this as a compliment, then.”
“I guess so. Especially since I'm not even drunk.”
Amanda chuckled and rolled over onto her back. “I'm honored.” She exhaled deeply, and stared at the ceiling fan above the bed.
“What are you thinking about?” Danny asked.
“Aleksei.”
“Go figure.”
“Seeing him there in that photo, it's just so bizarre. He looks exactly the same...”
“You're the one who said he was a vampire. I would think you'd be happy it looks like you're right.”
“I guess thinking he's a vampire, and seeing it with my own eyes are two different things. It just gave me the creeps.”
“I can understand that. Everything about him gives me the creeps. And I wasn't even attacked by him.”
Amanda moved onto her side and bent her elbow, propping her head up on her open palm. “Why don't we talk about something else?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Tell me about your wife.”
“I'd like to talk more about Aleksei.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
“I know her name was Caroline. You told me she died...”
“Right on both counts.”
“So what happened to her? It's obviously had a huge impact on you. Anyone can see you're not over her.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You really have to ask? You're a complete wreck.”
Danny laughed drily. “Thanks.”
“What happened to her?” Amanda asked again.
“She was murdered.”
Danny felt his throat close up as the words left his mouth. He bit his lip, and eyed the hotel mini-bar.
“Right in front of me,” he said.
“Oh my God. I'm sorry.”
Danny rolled his eyes and got up from the bed. He grabbed the pants he had tossed on the floor earlier, and pulled them on as he walked across the room to the mini-bar. He chose a bottle of scotch and tossed it back.
“And that's exactly why I didn't want to talk about what happened,” he said. “You'd be amazed how unbearable it can be to hear people telling you how sorry they are.”
“I don't know what else to say.”
“I know you don't. And it's not your fault. I just can't stand hearing it.”
“Who killed her? Why?”
Danny's eyes welled with tears. He reached for another bottle of Scotch and plopped onto the chair next to the mini-bar, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“A guy I knew at work. A cop. Actually, he was my partner.”
“Oh my God,” Amanda repeated. She stopped herself before adding her sympathy. “Why?” she asked.
Danny shook his head and took a drink. “It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear this? Don't you have something better to do than listen to 'This is Your Life, Danny Fitzpatrick?'”
“No, I don't. What happened?”
“His name was Stephen Jackson. I was only partnered with him for a few years, before that I'd been with the same guy since I first became a cop. He retired, and I got put with Jackson, who had just moved to Chicago.”
“So you didn't know him that well?”
“Well enough. I thought I did anyway. He and I started working on a string of murders in the area. Women who'd been raped before they were murdered. We already knew about a serial rapist who'd been busy in Chicago, and Jackson and I got put on the case when it was clear the rapist had escalated and added murder to his game.”
Danny paused and took another drink. Amanda stared at him, wondering if he was still aware she was in the room. He looked as if he were miles away.
“I told you this was a long story so I'll make it short,” Danny said. “I had no idea Jackson was playing me for a fool, working this case with me while he was the god-damn perp. I kept talking about how it seemed like the asshole was so careful, he seemed to know just what cops would look for, but it never dawned on me that there was a good reason for that. Then one day he slipped, made a comment about how one of the women looked when she took her last breath. I guess he was getting so fucking cocky he didn't even think about what he was saying, he just wanted to brag about it. He tried to play it off as soon as he realized what he'd said, but I knew then. I knew what an idiot I'd been.”
“I started looking at the rape cases and realized they'd started right around the time Jackson moved to Chicago. I looked up unsolved cases in Des Moines, where he'd come from, and sure enough, there was a serial rapist who miraculously stopped right after Jackson moved out of the city. He knew I was after him, but I didn't have any evidence. He threatened, told me if I knew what was good for me, I'd stop. I told him to fuck off and I was going to keep going until I could nail his ass to the wall.”
“So he went after Caroline?”
Danny nodded. “That night I walked into my apartment and found him in the bedroom with Caroline. He told me she was going to be his next victim, and I was welcome to watch. He had a knife to her throat..” Danny's voice cracked and he quickly downed the rest of the Scotch.
“You don't have to keep talking about it,” Amanda said. “I'm sorry I brought these memories up for you.”
“Don't worry about it. These memories aren't ever gone, believe me.”
Danny tossed the empty bottle into the wastebasket, and stared at the painting of a beach scene on the wall. Why advertise the beach in an Alaskan hotel? He supposed the proprietors were just trying to help guests forget they were in this god-forsaken Arctic wasteland.
He turned towards Amanda, who was now sitting up straight in the bed, hugging her knees to her chest.
“He sliced her throat right in front of me,” he said bluntly. “I had a gun on him and I was about to fire, I knew I could blow his head off, but I waited too long. I was trying to make sure I had a perfect shot, but my fucking hands were shaking so god-damn much...”
Danny let out a deep breath. “Her blood splattered all over me at the same time I pulled the trigger and blew his brains out. Have you ever seen how much blood comes out of jugular veins?”
Amanda shook her head.
“A hell of a lot. Pumping everywhere, all over me. All out of Caroline. I still see that blood everywhere I fucking look.”
Danny got up from his chair and grabbed a bottle of vodka out of the mini-bar. He held it up to Amanda. “Time to move on to the alcoholic's choice.”
“So that's when you moved to Fairbanks? After Caroline was murdered?”
“You got it. I quit homicide, and left Chicago right after her funeral. I didn't care where I went. I just knew I couldn't stay there.” He sat back down and stared at Amanda. “So now you know all about Caroline. Satisfied?”
“I really am sorry. I shouldn't have pried.”
Danny waved his hand, dismissing her. “You didn't. I'm the one who screamed her name in your apartment and threw bottles across your living room. I can't blame you for being curious.”
“Still...”
“And I don't want you feeling sorry for me, okay? I can't take that shit.”
“Okay.”
“You don't feel sorry for me?”
“I don't, no.”
Danny chuckled. “Good. Because no matter what happened, I'm still a total fuck-up. I haven't done a single useful thing since I came to Alaska.”
“I don't agree with that.”
“No?”
“No. You listened to me. You're the only person that ever believed me about Aleksei. I think that was very useful.”
“Did it ever dawn on you that the only reason I believed you is because we're both fucking nuts?”
“Oh, sure. I definitely think that.” Amanda couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.
Danny smiled in return. “As long we're on the same page then.”
He walked back to the bed and lay down next to Amanda, drawing her mouth to his. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the line of red drops he had seen along her neck and the blood he was sure was splattered all over the hotel room wall behind her.