Two hours later, Luke arrived at my front door with a small manila folder under his arm. He was dressed in the basic reporter garb of brown slacks, a white shirt that needed a good ironing, and a tweed coat. You know, the one with the fake leather patches on the elbows. I was pretty sure that he couldn't afford a real one on a reporter's salary; but, he never told me what he makes for a salary anyway, so who was I to judge?

Mikki chose that time to come home from work. Actually, I had called and told her that Luke was coming over and that I needed a chaperone that could handle the messy stuff that we were going to talk about. It was just a bonus that she happened to be there at the first crime scene with Spelmann and she could corroborate my story. We all went into the kitchen and settled down at the table. To my surprise, Natalie had taken the liberty of arranging coffee and cookies before she left for work.

I started to pour out coffee for Mikki and myself. “Coffee, Luke?”

“No, thanks.” Luke scoffed. “I don't know how you can drink that stuff.”

“How can you not drink it?” I asked with a tone of amusement, because someone that didn't enjoy a good cup of coffee didn't know what they were missing. I couldn't function without at least one cup of coffee in the morning. Lately, it's been two or three and I was still sleeping a lot more than I should have.

“How about a cookie? They're homemade.” I said and motioned to the heaping plate on the counter.

“Not yours, I hope.” Luke said as he grabbed one and bit into it.

I rolled over to him quickly and smacked him in the back.

He covered his head with his arms and laughed. “I'm kidding. I'm kidding!”

“It would serve you right if I did make them!” I said with fake indignation, then the three of us laughed. After a few minutes, I broke the levity.

“Let's get down to business.” I said.

“Your word you'll spill the beans about the Spelmann murder?” Luke asked, unsure.

“I already gave it. Let's see what you've got.”

Luke handed over the folder and there wasn't much in it. There was a short write up on Hal's murder, a copy of the police report, and photos from the inside of the apartment. I picked them up and the look on my face must have been one of slight shock, because both Luke and Mikki spoke at the same time.

“What is it?” Luke asked.

“What's wrong?” Mikki asked.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. The pictures looked like they could have been taken in the back room at Spelmann's shop. I gave Luke a knowing look and told them how similar the two crime scenes were.

Luke chimed in with excitement in his voice. “Oh, baby! A serial killer!”

“Just because the two crime scenes are similar, does not make it a serial killer case.” I clarified.

“What do you mean, just two?” Luke said with a slight smile on his face.

I gave him a stern look. “You sneaky bastard. What aren't you telling us?”

“Let's just say that there have been a few murders like this over the last few months.”

“What?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“It's been a side bet that I have with the other reporters. We've been hunting down all the leads to these crimes and came up with nothing. All dead ends.” Luke said and didn't even ask for forgiveness for the bad pun.

I sighed. “Do I even want to know who the other victims are?”

“Maybe. It depends.” Luke said. “Technically, the crimes happened in other states and countries, so there's no real way to connect them together. You know how jurisdictional these cops assholes are.” He said and then ducked his head. “Ah, present company excluded.”

I had to chuckle. “Hey, I can be an asshole sometimes.” I waved at the chair. “As my not insignificantly beautiful partner can attest.” I pointed at Mikki.

“Jesus, can he ever.” Mikki laughed and ignored the beautiful comment.

Luke perked up at our words and smiled. “We can't link the crimes officially; but, we all agree that it should definitely be the same guy. The list of the victims is in the folder.”

I put the photos down and shuffled the papers around, and there it was. The list that changed my life.

Gestapo Marks, Mexico City, Mexico
Gail Collette, New York, NY
Jack Talbot, during vacation in Honolulu, Hawaii
Bernard Jackson, Los Angeles, California
Beth Perkins, Dallas, Texas
Arthur Spelmann, Colorado
Hal Brooks, Colorado

I read the list several times before I finally made sense of it. It came as quite a shock to find out that I had met or had known, not just some, but every person on the list except for Spelmann. He was the only one that didn't fit the pattern, so I managed to hide most of my reaction.

I passed the list to Mikki and she read it. She didn't get it, though. I hadn't told her my entire history in detail, so that was understandable. I knew Luke and his reporter pals were looking for a common thread between these crimes; but, I wasn't ready just yet for him to know about my connections to these people.

So much for sharing everything I knew about the murders. I thought and tried to ask a question to cover up my sudden shock. “That's seven murders within the last two months.” I said. “Do they all have the same details to each crime scene?”

Luke responded with the same passionless tone all reporters get when reporting the facts. “Yep. Every single one was mutilated so bad that the walls and floor were covered in blood.”

“Were the organs missing from the other victims as well?” I asked.

“Organs? There were organs missing?” Luke asked with enthusiasm at the tidbit of new information.

Oh, crap. I thought I knew when to keep my big mouth shut. I sighed. I guess not. “That's off the record.”

“Aw, come on Drake. This could break the case wide open!” Luke nearly yelled.

“No, it could tip off the killer.” I said to try and convince Luke to sit on the information. “He could start leaving the organs at the crime scenes to throw us off his trail, so please... keep it off the record... for now at least. You'll need proof from the other crimes to corroborate my claim anyway.”

“You're right.” Luke nodded. “I'll make some calls in the morning and try to weasel my way into getting a copy of the coroner's reports.” He thought about it for a minute, then gave me an inquisitive glare. “Is there anything else I should be asking about?”

Whew. Crisis temporarily averted. I thought. “If I think of anything else, I'll let you know.”

“Well, I guess I better go. Research to do, places to be and everything.” Luke said. “Thanks for the info.” He said and stood up. “You know, these cookies are really good. Can I take some with me?”

Both Mikki and I answered at the same time. “Help yourself.”

Luke almost giggled as he grabbed several of them and put them in his pockets. We all said our goodbyes and Mikki offered to walk him out to his car.

I shouldn't have let the organ clue slip. I castigated myself. Sanchez would kick me off the team if he found out. Oh, wait. I'm not on the team anymore. I smiled sadly. I would have to keep a closer reign on my tidbits of information from now on. You never knew when they might come in handy as a bargaining chip.

Mikki came back into the kitchen just as I was pouring my second cup of coffee. I got it from the large coffee percolator that Mikki and Natalie had given to me. The thing was huge and brewed ten to fifteen cups of coffee at a time, and they tasted great. Tonight's flavor was Mocha Vanilla Fudge.

I used to hate the different flavors of coffee you could buy at the coffee shop. For some people, it was too difficult to decide beforehand what flavor they wanted. I always had trouble since all I wanted was a plain cup of coffee. None of that double latte with extra foam and green sprinkles crap. I wanted real coffee. I usually ended up buying nothing, because they would say that they didn't serve the kind of coffee I wanted. I never knew that it was because I was such a hard ass about it that they just didn't want to serve me anymore.

I wondered to myself if I should tell Mikki about me knowing nearly all of the victims. Was I really ready to be this open with her? If I did tell her, would she make me turn the info over to the police because I was the connecting thread between the crimes or would she let me go on and investigate on my own?

Do I want to give over that decision to her? I asked myself, then mentally shook my head. No. It's my decision, and I'm going to make it.

I filled Mikki in on what I actually found out from Luke's victim list, that I knew those people and had met them at some point in my life.

“It could be just a coincidence.” Mikki said. “Just because you knew or met these people at some time in your life, they had been killed before, during, and after your accident.”

“I realize that.” I said and went over it in my head. “I just...”

_______________

You have a serious choice to make. Do you want to withhold evidence from the police and potentially derail their investigation for your own safety, or will you take the chance and expose yourself to the potential for intense scrutiny?

A) Stay quiet as a church mouse and hide. B) Bite the bullet and face the consequences.

Definitely B. I thought.

_______________

“I don't like withholding potential evidence from the police, Mikki.” I said and then smiled. “Unless I have to.”

Mikki chuckled and gave me a kiss. “Then you know what you have to do.”

I had made my decision and called Sanchez. I left a message for him to call me back because I had info on the murders, as in multiple. That should get his attention. I thought. After I hung up I realized that I didn't say which murders. Oh, well. He might call me back faster now.

No sooner had I finished that thought when the phone rang. I told Sanchez what I had learned about the other crimes and that I had known the victims, except for Spelmann. He told me that I should come down to the station and give an official statement later today. I responded that I would try, except that I had pretty much filled my running around quota for the week, because I had done more travelling in my wheelchair over the last few days than when I had the use of my legs.

Sanchez laughed. “Just get your ass down to the station as soon as you can.” He said and hung up.

After about half an hour, there was a knock on the front door. Mikki started to get up from the couch to answer it and I told her I would get it. I couldn't let her do all the work around here when we were alone. It was probably Luke anyway, since he forgot his folder on the kitchen table.

I couldn't see out the peephole on the front door. How did the guys forget to move that? I asked myself. Of course, I would only see crotches if they had. I thought with a chuckle and opened the door. To my surprise, it wasn't Luke. A rather tall gentleman stood in my doorway. He had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a professional manicure with clear nail polish and everything. He also wore a finely tailored suit, dark blue with a thin pinstripe, and a bowler hat.

Who wears bowler hats these days? I asked myself, a little confused. “Hello?”

“Are you Mr. Drake?” The man asked.

“That depends. Who's asking?”

“My name is Thomas Anders and I have a proposition for you.”

“Sorry. I'm not buying anything today. Thanks.” I started to close the door.

Thomas stepped forward and blocked it with his foot. “You misunderstand me. I'd like to hire you.”

Oh. I thought. “My apologies. I thought you were a salesman.”

“It's the hat, isn't it?” Thomas asked.

It was the hat; but, I just shrugged. He took off the hat.

“It was a present from my wife.” Thomas said and turned around and waved to a very pretty woman that sat on the passenger side of a Mercedes Benz parked on the street outside of my house. Even from this far away I could see the diamond necklace she wore as it sparkled in the sunlight.

I wasn't sure how women could feel comfortable wearing a few hundred thousand dollars worth of jewellery around their necks. Mr. Anders' wife doesn't seem to have a problem with it, though. Thomas turned back to me with a million dollar smile on his face and I knew it wasn't for my benefit. He really loved his wife.

It had been my experience that rich people don't have the same moral backgrounds as regular people. I wasn't saying that they are worse or better than us, just different... and there I was making him stand outside on my front porch like the salesman I didn't want to buy anything from.

“Would you like to come in?” I asked and rolled backwards and out of the way.

“I'd be delighted. Thank you.” Thomas said and came inside.

“What about your wife?” I asked before I shut the door.

“She wanted to wait in the car. Amanda doesn't care about the details, just that it gets done.”

I motioned for him to sit on the couch as I closed the front door. Did I just notice a flicker of disdain on his wife's face just as I turned away? I wondered. “Now, what is it you wanted to hire me for?”

“I would like to have an ancestor raised from the dead.”

“Sorry, but I'm not a part of...”

“I know.” Thomas said and cut me off. “We were there earlier today. When we asked for you they informed us of your current status.”

“Who did they get to take the job?” I asked, curious.

“No one.”

“But, you just said...”

“Everyone we have talked to, claims you are the only one who can do what we need. Legally at least.”

Aha! I thought. No, I did not say 'aha' out loud. “How old is your ancestor?”

“He is approximately a hundred and eighty years old, give or take a decade or two.”

He wanted me to raise a hundred and eighty year old corpse? Well, that's... interesting. I thought. With the way my power had been acting up lately, always right there on the surface, I believed that I could do it. I don't mean I might be able to do it, I meant I should be able do it. Pretty easily, too. I was as sure of it as I was of raising a ten year-old corpse, which I could do in my sleep.

Don't ask me how I know that.

“There are dozens of people across the country that could do what you want.” I said, instead of what I was thinking.

“Yes, but you are the only one who could do it quickly, with a minimal amount of fuss, and without a... human sacrifice.” Thomas said and almost didn't wince. “It is, how you would say, a sellers market.”

I almost laughed. Tell me about it. I thought. I had heard of dabblers in necromancy that took the money and ran without even trying to raise a zombie that old, probably because they couldn't. I had even heard of a man that got the death penalty after attempting something like this and not having it work with the human sacrifice.

The clients had been so angry that the zombie wasn't raised after spending all that money, that they turned the animator in for the murder. Little did they realize that they were complicit in the crime and their trial for negligent homicide was still pending.

“Why do you want him raised?” I asked.

“Do you want the truth or an elaborate lie that just sounds like the truth?”

Talk about tough decisions. I thought. Which one would I normally pick? Yep. You got it. “Truth.”

“Very well. This ancestor was a slave merchant. He bartered, bought, and sold slaves.”

“And?”

“That doesn't shock you?” Thomas asked, surprised. “My family made its money from slavery!”

“Mr. Anders, if your family didn't do it back then, someone else would have. I've actually raised a few people who swindled all of their money from the people around them and even one man who had robbed banks.” I smiled. “Before you ask, yes, it was the bank that paid me to raise him.”

Thomas nodded and I knew that was what he was going to ask.

“That's just the way things happened at the time. I won't throw stones at you now for what your great-whatever grandfather did.”

“That's mighty generous of you, Mr. Drake.”

“Please, call me David.”

“Of course, David.”

“You haven't answered my question.” I said. “Why do you want him raised?”

“You have a one track mind. Determined. I like that.” Thomas said and almost smiled. “He was a slaver and made several ledgers to cover up what he actually did with all the money he made. We found several of them hidden in a small space under the floorboards in his office, with his journal. I brought the journal with me if you would like to see it.”

“Sure.” I said.

Thomas reached into his breast pocket and I tensed up, as did Mikki. I didn't have my gun with me, since I couldn't wear my holster while sitting in my wheelchair, so I was screwed if he drew a weapon out. It was so stupid of me not to have checked him for weapons first.

Bad David, bad. I thought and quickly glanced at Mikki. She shook her head and I relaxed, because everything was fine. She couldn't smell anything from him.

Thomas took out a small leather bound book and handed it to me. It was dated eighteen hundred and thirty-two. I carefully opened it to the center of the book and read a little. The handwriting was actually printing, so close together that it looked like writing. The pages were so small that I supposed you had to write like that. It really was just a journal. No flamboyant stories or anything outrageous, either. It was just a day-to-day account of what his ancestor did. I flipped a few pages and handed it back to him. There was no need for me to comb it for details if there weren't any significant ones in it for me to find.

“In this journal he mentions five ledgers, but we only have three.”

“You want to know where the other two are. It seems like a lot of trouble to go through for a couple of old books.”

“These books are almost two centuries old. I've had the ones we found appraised and they are of significant value, both historically and monetary. If we had the entire set...”

“It could make them almost invaluable.” I finished for him and he nodded.

“Exactly.”

“You know it'll be really expensive.”

“Money is no object.” Thomas said.

“I've had clients say that until they got the bill.”

Which was true. My old boss was still in litigation over the terms of an unpaid bill with a client. We told them how much it was and completed the job. They got what they wanted and when they got the bill, they said it was outrageous and unjustified.

“Very well. How much?”

“For a century old it's about thirty grand, and another ten for every fifty years older than that. A two hundred year old corpse would be around fifty thousand.” I said and managed to not cringe when I said it. “Oh, and that includes the purchasing of livestock.”

Thomas nodded. “To put both of our minds at ease, I can pay you half up front and half when the job is done.”

“I haven't said I would take the job yet.” I said.

“Please, Mr. Drake...David. Don't insult my intelligence.” Thomas smiled. “I noticed your face brightened up when I said how old he was.”

Dammit, I didn't think I let that show. I thought. I was out of practice in more skills than I thought I was.

I would have to keep a closer eye on Mr. Anders in the future, I think. I sighed and it was his turn for his face to light up.

“When do you need it done by?” I asked.

“Whenever you can find the time.” Thomas said, almost excitedly. “Would you like a check now or would you like it deposited into your account directly?”

“Deposit is fine.” I said. “I need to warn you, though. If I find out anything that's different from what you've told me, my price doubles. If I find out you openly lied to me about anything, I'll keep the money you gave me and drop the job completely.”

Thomas smiled again. “I would expect nothing less from a shrewd business deal.” He said and took something from his pocket. It was a sealed envelope with his contact information on the front and he handed it to me. “Here are the details. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call me.”

Thomas stood up and offered me his hand. I shook it briefly and I rolled the wheelchair over to my front door. He put on his hat as he followed me and after I opened the door, he stepped out into the fresh air.

“Have yourself a great day, David.” Thomas said.

“You, too Mr. Anders.”

“Please, if I can call you David, you can call me Thomas.”

“All right, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled at me, turned away and walked over to his car, then got in. Mikki came to the door and hugged me from behind while I watched the Anders' drive away in their brand new Mercedes.

“I figured it was about time you did some zombie raising.” Mikki said.

“You know what will happen if I don't do it willingly, it'll just happen anyway. I'm a little nervous, though. Do you think Mr. Anders would mind if I showed up with an entourage to keep me company?”

“I don't think he would know the difference if you didn't tell him.” Mikki said with a smile and I closed the door. She was right; but, I was pretty sure that I was only going to take a couple of people with me. Just in case.