April 25, 2012
Conner watched as Drake walked out of the station with a cane helping his injured right ankle. He had apparently had the pain since he was fourteen. Car accident, he remarked. Nearly took off his fingers but left the accident with only the pain in his ankle. Limping out as he did, she felt off about something.
“Donald, did you pull up his record? We got his prints, right?” Turning to her partner at his desk, he was still typing in a few numbers. He never caught the hang of typing quickly. Conner let it slide. Donald had been better at searching things on the web or in their database. She wasn’t going to complain when it would take her twice the time to find all the correct data. Running a hand against the other, she walked towards him, “Well?” Her voice sharpened as he still hadn’t replied to her yet.
Donald’s typing continued, “Hold on. Grabbing something else.”
“Don… We don’t need an over access of information. Just enough,” he heart raced a bit more as he waved her away. She didn’t budge. This guy sent chills down her back, and she didn’t want him out there walking around if he was up to no good. The way that man had talked to her.
With a final tap into the keyboard, he leaned back into his chair with victory in his eyes. “Well, here he is. His name is, Blake Donovan. He doesn’t have a job listed, with no current residence. Other than those two things… Everything checks out for him. License plates. Cars. Damn, look at this,” Don placed a lean finger against the screen. “His hair and eyes are listed as you see them. Those damn things ain’t any contacts, and his hair isn’t dyed. That’s their actual color!” Donald shook his head in dismay.
“That’s…” Conner began before she trailed off, reading more of what the man was like. Nothing else was listed on him. He had had one other drunken and disorder charged against him, staying a night in a county jail. Other than that, the man was clean. Even wore a suit in his ID picture. “This all. All of it!” She stood back up straight and waved her hands at the computer’s screen, “It’s got to be all made up. This guy can’t be that clean. He just can’t be! What the hell is all of this?”
“This is everything records have on the guy. Other than this information, he’s a complete ghost. No job history. No last known address.” Rotating his eyes around the room, Donald let out a sigh. “Lieutenant, why the hell did you let him go? You had him attacking a set of officers! All three of them didn’t stand a chance against the man. You read the report that they all gave, right?”
Conner had. All three of them had stated that they heard nothing. All that happened was a pain in certain areas and meeting the ground below them. One had hit in the neck, falling on his stomach after someone had swept his legs. Another said his head had been twisted in another direction, followed by a knee going into their stomach. After that, he was laying on the ground on top of the other guy. He had been rotated around to hit his partner and they both tumbled together. Once all of that had ended, they looked around for who had attacked him. They didn’t get a sight of him. The one who first fell mentioned that he caught a glimpse of a jacket’s tail-end turning the corner.
“I wish I could have, Don, I damn anyone out there that would say I would want the guy to just walk right out of here. I didn’t have anything. If I had one, little thing, other than him being in a crime scene…” Conner took a breath and closed her eyes for a second. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “Don, I need you to head down to the Dublin’s Dream. See if he was there during those times. See what you can find.”
Turning off his monitor, he stood up and picked up his jacket from the back of his chair. Swinging his blazer over his shoulders, he eyed Conner, “What do you plan to do Lieutenant?”
Her eyes were now fixated on the front doors that Blake had just left. “I’m going to try to not let him control me as he’s doing right now. His little act… I’m going to put it on the back of my mind. Later tonight, once you’ve talked to the pub, let’s see if we can find him before he leaves town.”
April 25, 2012
Snoring loudly in the middle of the hospital room, an orange haired man sat on a chair nearby a medical bed. The body in the bed was quiet, the breathing was the only noticeable movement on him. A steady beeping echoed in the room from his heart rate monitor. With a few wires hooked up to his arm, he seemed peaceful. Drake leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. His eyes observed the man lying on the bed. The man was fine, except for his black eye on the right of his face.
Drake clapped his hands together.
The orange haired man snorted awake and looked bewildered around the room. “Woah! Where’s the bloody alarm!” For a moment, Drake went unnoticed. After the Irish man rubbed his eyes, he looked at the doorway with his pupils seeming dazed. “Drake! Well, I’ll be damned to be seeing you ’round here like this. What took you so long, huh? Where’ve ya been?”
Adjusting his hat on his head, he merely rolled his neck for the first moment. “I’ve been busy dodging officers that have had questions for me. Along with other things that would like to run into me. Currently, I’m wondering why someone of your standard is in a hospital with a man whose appears to be unconscious. Care to explain, Cornelius?”
Cornelius let out a wild laugh, patting his chest at his own thoughts. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen the bloody fight. It was outrageous! This bloke here thought he could bite off more than he could chew. Long story short, I gave him the good ol’ one-two-uppercut-in-the-chin, an’ he blinked so fast I betcha ass he saw the whole damn constellations running before him.” Cornelius let out another, smaller, laugh and patted the leg of the lying man.
“Right,” Drake remarked. “Because a Vampire fighting a human is about as far as a body builder challenging a baby to a weight lifting contest.”
“Pfft, shove it, alright? It’s why I’m here, mate. Gotta make sure this bloke wakes up all bright-eyed. See if the bastard is going to be all dandy, hm?” Cornelius leaned farther in the chair and folded his arms over his chest. Kicking his feet up to the bed he grinned widely at Drake. The man’s nose stuck out furthest from his face. Drake also saw specs of dirt on the cheek of the man. He didn’t seem to be mind the dirty appearance. Clumps of hair were tattered and removed from the bundle that made up his ponytail behind his shoulders.
Drake was also surprised more people didn’t ask questions about his skin color. Despite being a full-blooded Irishman, Cornelius seemed to be coated in a brown, caramel color from head to toe. It was brighter more than dark, with his vibrant blue eyes sticking through his skin pigment. As if that was the only spot he had bothered to ever clean. The white and blue shades mixing together to stick through and shine into a room.
“We have to move. You’ll have to leave a note to the unsuspecting man. Perhaps pay for his medical bills as well. I can tell you broke his nose.” Drake’s hand gestured toward his face, “This is why you don’t punch humans. You break them. How many times do we have to go through this?”
Rolling his eyes, Cornelius looked around the room quickly. “Yeah, yeah, shut your bloody mouth. I’ll make sure the note tells him how sorry I am!”
“I’m very well sure it will.” Drake departed the room and made his way down the hallway. He slowed his pace before he heard the clicking of sneakers right behind him.
“Oi! Wait up!” Cornelius shouted over Drake’s shoulder. As he arrived at the same pace with the man, they clashed together nearly toppling over.
“We have work to do. No time to fool around.” Drake’s voice hardened and Cornelius’ smile never faded as they made their way down the hall. Cornelius waved at a few of the people through the windows of their room. Drake pretended to take no notice.
“By the way, Drake, how the hell didcha find me? Not like you placed a chip between my shoulders.” Cornelius gasped and stopped in front of Drake dramatically with a solid face. “Was there a disturbance in the force?”
Bumping past his shoulder, Drake shook his head. “I asked the bar owner of the Dublin’s Dream. Said you left with some guy who had a bloody nose, and who could barely walk. I knew you’d go to the nearest hospital. All I had to do then was ask someone if they had seen an overly enthusiastic orange haired man.” Drake sized Cornelius up in the corner of his eye. “Suitable?”
Cornelius placed his hands on the back of his neck and let out a whistle. “Or, you know, you could’ve called my cell, hm?”
“I don’t have a phone,” Drake grunted under his breath at the question. “I have a beeper.”
“You need to fix that, mate.”
“No, I don’t.” Before Cornelius could say more, Drake held up a hand. “We have work to do. Let’s not dawdle.”
“Alright, alright.” As soon as they left the front doors of the hospital Cornelius took out a Churchill cigar from within his raincoat’s pocket. Cutting a hole in back of it with the edge of his lighter, he lit the tip and took a breath. Drake waited for the man to finish his ritual. “What’s the plan?”
The two continued to walk, Drake looking from side to side to ensure that they would able to talk in peace. The world around them had darkened, and the air was cold for the two to continue their conversation.