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     Nada. Just like that Hull guy. He only remembers going in and coming out, which makes me thinkthat
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    part of his story is true.
     And the rest?
    She shrugged.  I haven t met the guy, but this business about feeling a  pull from the zombie controller?
    She shook her head and adjusted her oversized purse.  I told Jeremy I think that s bullshit if Hull didn t
    die, then he s not a zombie, so he has no connection to any controller. But, like Jeremy said, it can t hurt
    to try.
     Time to call and see how it s going.
     Hold on, I said to Jeremy.  There s a police car whipping up Yonge. I can t hear you.
    He waited a second, then said,  We re over 
     Wait, got another one.
     I can hear the sirens. How much trouble did you three cause?
     Very funny.
     We re near Bay and Gerrard if you want to take a cab over.
     It s close enough to walk. How did it go with Hull?
    Silence.
     He s standing right there, isn t he? I said.  Did he lead you on a wild goose chase?
     So it would seem.
     We ll be right there.
    I called Rita Acosta, a reporter I d known atFocus Toronto . She now worked at theSun, and we still
    traded the occasional lead. Now, though, I needed to check on Lyle Sanderson, make sure he was really
    missing.
     Sanderson, you said? Her fingers clicked away on the keyboard.  Got him. No missing person report
    yet, but it s only been a day and if he lives alone, that s not unusual. A third person missing in the
    neighborhood would be a helluva story to break. I owe you on this one.
     No problem. Can you call me back after you check it out? It s yours to break, but I might see if I can
    sell it as a tidbit south of the border. Count the trip as a write-off.
    She laughed.  Smart girl. How much longer are you in town for? We should Oh, hold on, someone s
    here.
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    She put me on hold. A minute later, she came back on.
     Gotta run, she said.  Just got a tip. Working girl killed over on Yonge Street.
     Just now? I heard the sirens.
     Well, if you re in the area, hustle your butt on over. She rattled off an address.  It s a knifing, and a
    nasty one. First guy that found her lost his dinner. Sounds good. Could be my ticket to the crime desk.
    A pause.  Gawd, that sounded awful, didn t it? Time for a new job. A rustle as she grabbed her purse.
     Will I see you there?
    Prostitute? Knifed? Mutilated? With Jack the Ripper not in his portal cell where Hull swore he should
    be?
     I ll be there.
    A half block from the crime scene, a cab pulled up beside us. Nick got out, then Antonio, while Jeremy
    paid the driver. Hull was still with them.
     Mr. Hull is concerned, Antonio said.  If this could be our  A quick look at the crowded sidewalk.
      notorious friend, he doesn t feel it would be safe for him to be alone.
     Tell him to stay clear, Clay said.
    I d never been at a murder scene. At least, not while it was an active crime scene. I d always stayed
    away from crime reporting. I d have a hard time talking to a victim and just taking the story, without
    wanting to do something about it. Maybe that s because I m a werewolf or maybe it s just me.
    Thisvictim wasn t talking, but everyone else was. That s what struck me first the swell of voices as we
    turned the corner. So much for respect for the dead.
    The body had been found in an alleyway near an intersection popular with urban nightlife the sort that
    did a brisk trade without the benefit of a business license. It seemed everyone within blocks had heard
    about it, and they d all converged on the site. Police had erected barriers across the sidewalk on either
    side, but that only forced the crowd onto the road.
    We split up to cover as much as we could. Clay and I stood on the edge of the crowd, trying to
    eavesdrop, hear what they knew.
     Elena?
    A short woman with dark curly hair waved and strode my way. Then she stopped dead and stared in
    feigned shock at my stomach.
     Holy Christ. Where d that come from? She gave me a hug that nearly toppled me over.
     Congratulations. She reached for Clay s hand.  Rita Acosta, we met a couple of years ago.
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    Clay shook her hand and murmured a greeting, which for him was downright friendly.
    Rita waved at the crowd.  Not a hope in hell of getting a firsthand look, although, in your condition, you
    probably shouldn t.
    At a high-pitched squeal from the alley, Clay turned sharp, eyes narrowing.
     Is that ? I began.
     Rats, he said, lip curling.
    Rita nodded.  They ve got animal control in there now, but it s a real mess. They must have come out
    the minute they smelled blood. I heard that the first cops on the scene had to beat the suckers off.
    Apparently, that s why the rookie puked. They were feeding 
    She stopped, gaze dipping to my stomach.  Sorry. Anyway, point is you can t get near the crime scene,
    and you don t want to. Come over here, and I ll fill you in. Unless& 
    She looked at Clay, as if checking to be sure that murder details would be okay, considering my
     condition.
     It s fine. I patted my belly.  All is quiet it must be nap time.
    She laughed.  I ll keep my voice down so I don t give the little guy nightmares.
    Contact
    THE YOUNG PROSTITUTE HAD BEEN TENTATIVELY IDENTIFIEDas  Kara, last name still
    unknown. Her throat had been slashed, a deep left to right cut that seemed to have been done from [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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