Ari looked at him in surprise. “So she came to talk? About what?”
“I did not say that. She will pretend she came to talk, but she is here to spy, assess the situation, and report to the O-Seven. She will declare Daron has broken some council law and recommend his punishment. Her arrival is a threat that bears watching. The O-Seven must be worried that Daron’s control of Toronto is spreading his political theories.” Andreas shook his head slowly. “They have always feared that his democratic ideas would gain followers and undermine their feudal laws. If not for his sire’s support, they would have destroyed Daron long ago.”
“So, this vampiress is looking for weaknesses and an excuse to cause more trouble.”
“I think that summarizes it nicely. Daron can handle Ursula, but I am worried about what comes next. If the elders lose interest in Toronto, we might be their next target. Daron’s sire will have no reason to protect us.”
“What do we do? What can we do?”
Andreas sighed. “Nothing for now. We must leave the situation in Daron’s hands. He will keep us informed.”
No wonder everyone was tense. It seemed as though she was always waiting for the bad guys to do something. Sometimes modern law enforcement had its limitations. Wouldn’t it be more effective to get the bad guys first? Ari turned away and finished hanging her clothes in the closet.
The O-Seven council really was a pain in the ass. Couldn’t the elders be satisfied with ruling all of Europe? This latest news made her even more eager to meet with Zylla, the vampire wise woman, as soon as possible. She needed to learn everything about the vampire threat that lurked on the eastern horizon.
Chapter Three
Despite her concerns about the O-Seven, Ari had a murder to solve, and to do that, she needed to know why Jase Barron and his crew had come to Riverdale. Leaving the kittens in the capable hands of Andreas’s staff—who allowed them to run all over the security area on the third floor—she arrived at the Riverdale Historical Society five minutes before nine o’clock the following morning. A gray-haired man watching the gift shop counter beamed at her.
Ari returned his smile. “I could use some help with local legends. Especially any on hidden treasure, ancient burial grounds. Anything that might attract someone like Indiana Jones.”
The wrinkles on his face broke into a broad grin, and he pointed at his shelves of books on local interests. “Then you’ve come to the right place. You with those TV folks?”
“No, I’m an investigator.”
He peered at her. “You looking into Jase Barron’s death? He was in here. Shame what happened to him. I heard it was his heart. Can’t always tell how healthy someone is from looking at him. But maybe that wasn’t the problem, you being involved and all.”
She didn’t take the bait. “You talked to him? What did he want?”
The man pulled a pamphlet from the shelf behind him. “Same as you. That’s how I made the connection. Treasure, legends. And maps. Now, this pamphlet includes much of Riverdale’s history, from the early Indian settlements to the active river port. Can’t say there’s much about lost treasure. A boat or two sank in the river not too far from here.” He pulled out another book and flipped to the index. “This book on the Mississippi has a section on boat wrecks. Used to be a lot of them all the way from up north down to the Gulf.”
“Any stories about the cliffs or caves around here?”
His gaze sharpened. “That fella asked about the caves too. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. Smugglers used them, but only for things like liquor, salt, and tobacco. Nothing valuable enough to be considered treasure today.” He waggled his head, as if still thinking it over. “The really interesting things in the caves are the rock formations, but you have to get special permission to go in there to study them.”
Ari blinked. Special permission? That was news. Strange Andreas hadn’t mentioned it. Or not so strange. Her vampire kept so many things to himself. “I didn’t know anyone was allowed inside.”
“Only certified geologists, I heard. You could ask over at Club Dintero. But if you’re interested in Indian legends, you might try Joe Hawkson. He’s one of the dozen or more Native Americans still around here. Sauk or Fox tribe, one of them. He stops in on rare occasions to chat about local history or buy a book. Maybe he could help you. If he will.” The old man shrugged. “Joe’s friendly enough but not very long on information about his tribal ways. I’ve got his phone number here somewhere. Gave it to me in case anybody brought in local artifacts to sell. We have a few local items on consignment—jellies, candies, handmade quilts.” After he dug through a drawer, he copied a number and handed it to her. “Tell him you talked with me. It might help.”
“Did you give his name and number to Barron?”
The man scratched his neck with one hand. “No, somehow I figured Joe wouldn’t cotton to all the public hoopla. He might talk to you, but I wouldn’t bet eggs on it.”
She entered the number on her phone. Hawkson didn’t answer, so Ari didn’t get a chance to find out if he’d talk with her or not. She bought the pamphlet, a map of the area that Barron had purchased, and the Mississippi River book.
Two hours and four cups of coffee later, Ari sat in her office at the Otherworld Cultural Center—attached to the gothic-looking Magic Hall where her bosses reigned—and drummed her fingers. She’d learned a lot of trivia about Riverdale and the Olde Town district that had been the original town, especially its early days in the 1800s as a thriving river port, an era now recreated for the benefit of Olde Town’s tourist trade. Although smugglers were mentioned, there was no hint of buried treasure or even contraband that would be worth finding. The Mississippi River book recounted the waterway’s history, from the time it was carved by melting water at the end of the ice age to its dominance as a means of transportation before cars and airplanes. She even found brief notes on two barges that sank near Riverdale, but the oil and perishable goods they had on board wouldn’t hold any fascination for a man seeking high ratings for his TV show.
Ari set the books aside and tried calling Hawkson again. Still no answer.
She threw a thoughtful glance at the books from the Otherworld library covering her conference table. She’d considered the possibility that Barron had been looking for a magical object or place, but she hadn’t found any mention of crystal caves or anything else of magical significance. It had been a long shot.
She stood to indulge in one last cup of coffee from the pot sitting on her file cabinet. As she reached for the handle, her cell rang.
“I have Jase Barron’s sister with me,” Ryan began. “I, um, thought you’d want to talk with her. How soon can you be here?”
“Does she know anything about the expedition?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. She just arrived. Can you come now?”
“Sure.” Ari was puzzled by Ryan’s distracted tone. He sounded ill at ease. Was it the woman? What was wrong with her? Intrigued, Ari locked up and hustled out the door. Her long strides quickly covered the seven intervening streets. She pulled open the police station’s doors and hurriedly climbed the stairs, pausing briefly at the threshold to Ryan’s office.
In that instant before the occupants of the office noticed her arrival, Ari took in his visitor. Sophisticated, carefully coiffed chestnut hair, long slender legs, one crossed over the other, showing a bit of lower thigh beneath a stylish indigo suit.
Ryan bounded to his feet. “Ari, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Falk, Jase Barron’s sister from New York. Arianna Calin, the local Guardian I told you about,” he hastily added, looking uncertain if he’d done the introductions in the proper order.
Ari gave the woman a second look. No wonder Ryan was out of his comfort zone. Mrs. Falk and her East Coast flare might care about the social niceties. The tailored clothes were custom made. Ari’s ability to recognize quality fabric and style had improved with exposure to Andreas’s addiction to all things Armani.
The woman rose gracefully and held out a manicured hand. “Call me Kelly.”
A firm handshake, a friendly smile, and a speculative look. Barron’s sister wasn’t a mere fashion plate.
Everyone settled in the office’s only three chairs. Ryan cleared his throat. “Mrs. Falk has some questions about her brother’s death.”
“Kelly,” the woman automatically corrected.
“Right. Kelly.” When he grinned self-consciously, Ari almost laughed. Something about this woman had really tripped his trigger. Since he didn’t seem to know what to say next, Ari asked the all-important question.
“Can you tell us why your brother was in Riverdale?”
“He was filming for his discovery show. Is his new segment connected with his death?”
“Exactly what was he looking for?”
Kelly tilted her head and gave Ari a long look. “Jase never said. He was quite mysterious on the subject, as if he might jinx the find if he talked about it. He only referred to it as rare and priceless. Didn’t his crew tell you?”
“They claim not to know,” Ryan said.
Kelly blinked in disbelief, then frowned. “It could be true, I suppose. Or the whole bunch of them could be lying. Does this treasure have something to do with his death?”
“Have you talked with the medical examiner?” Ari asked.
“That was my first stop when my plane landed. He said it was Jase’s heart, but that can’t be true. Jase kept himself fit, and there’s no history of heart disease in our family. Not even high blood pressure. The doctor became quite evasive when I asked for details. When I pushed him, he suggested I talk with Lt. Ryan.”
Thank you, Doc. Not. Evasion might work for some people, but not this woman, whose eyes said she was used to getting answers when she asked for them.
Ryan made eye contact with Ari. “I explained we were still investigating.”
