Biting Bad_ A Chicagoland Vampires Novel(36)

“There’s not a single protestor here,” I said.

“There’s not a single protestor here,” he agreed. “They went to the trouble to firebomb the place, and they didn’t even show up to protest afterward? What’s the point?”

“Grandpa said they lawyered up. Their lawyers probably advised them to stay away.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Or maybe this isn’t about vampires, not really. Maybe this is about a crazy lady and her vendetta against her employer.”

“I presume you told my grandfather about Robin Pope?”

“I did. He’s calling Jacobs, thinking he’ll be interested enough to at least bring her in for questioning.”

“Excellent.”

Catcher nodded and looked back at the smoldering building. “I suppose she’s technically innocent until proved guilty, but innocent people, in my experience, don’t tend to run. At least not when they’re well-heeled northsiders living in a posh apartment building.”

I nodded and stuffed my hands into my pockets, although that didn’t help with the rest of my freezing body parts. The temperature was dropping, and my ears had begun to ache with cold.

“I assume we’re out here because we’re waiting for someone from Bryant Industries?”

“Ms. Bryant herself. And there she is,” Catcher pleasantly added.

A woman appeared on the lawn. She was tall, with a wide smile, dark eyes, and ebony skin. Her straight hair swept her shoulders, and even while standing in the rubble of the building, she looked smartly dressed in a fitted red trench coat and black patent galoshes. She was, as far as I could tell, quite human.

Catcher moved forward through the crowd to the edge of the tape, and gestured to get her attention. At the sight of him, the woman nodded and walked toward us, raising the police tape so we could walk through.

“Charla Bryant,” she said, extending her hand.

“Merit,” I said. “I’m from Cadogan House. And this is Catcher. He’s from—well, currently, my grandfather’s house.”

“We’ve met,” Catcher said, and Charla smiled at me.

“We’re well acquainted with your grandfather, Merit. He handled several issues on our behalf when he served as Ombudsman.” She looked at Catcher. “It’s a shame you aren’t official anymore.”

“We couldn’t agree more,” Catcher said, casting a glance back at the building. “I hope no one was injured?”

“Fortunately, no,” Charla said. “We were between shifts, and in the middle of a company-wide meeting.” Charla looked sadly back at the building. “No lives lost, but the building will never be the same. Let’s have a look, shall we?”

We followed her toward the front door—or what was left of it. The smells of singed wood and plastic, and the low note of blood, grew stronger.

“The first bottle was thrown here,” she said, gesturing at the door. “On its own, it wasn’t terribly powerful. Less a blast than a source of fire. But they threw the second about fifteen feet away.” She gestured farther down the wall. “The fire breached the building’s propane line, which caused the explosions.”

That explained the booms we’d heard.

“The fires eventually merged, and that’s what caused most of the damage to the building.”

“Do you have security tapes?” I asked.

“We do, although some of the cameras were damaged by the fire.” Her eyes narrowed. “If you need a visual of the attack, it won’t be hard to find on the Web. The protestors weren’t exactly shy about taping their handiwork.”

“So we saw,” Catcher said. “But the videos could help us, if you can get them.”

Charla nodded. “My brother, Alan, is also involved in the business. He has a biology background, so he handles research and development and oversees our lab work. He’s also in charge of security. I’ll see what he can do.”

“How long have you been around?”

“In one form or another, since 1904. We’ve been in this building since the sixties.”

“How many people know what you actually do?” I asked.

“Obviously all of our employees,” she said. “But they stay quiet about it. We try to treat them well—pay them well—in return. That’s part of our policy. If something had been off in that direction, we’d know it.”

She looked back at us. “Did you see the mayor’s press conference? And McKetrick’s? Very disturbing stuff. How they think supernaturals would have been involved in this is completely beyond me. What benefit would they possibly have in endangering their own blood supply?”