I grabbed my own sandwich and milk, and joined the two men at the table. The peanut butter, pureed pumpkin, and banana wove a thick texture together, while the honey and cinnamon added a touch of tart sweetness to the mix. Perfect.
"Any new leads?" I asked Finn after I'd eaten half my sandwich.
He shook his head and wiped his fingers on one of the paper towels. "Not really. My contacts sent me some new intel on Halo Industries and the James sisters. I've scanned through it, but nothing's popped out at me yet. Maybe in the morning when I'm fresher."
My gray eyes flicked to the detective. "I think it's time you told us what you and Gordon Giles were talking about at the opera house."
Caine nodded. "Yeah, it probably is."
I was mildly surprised he was giving in so easily. Perhaps my sandwich really was that good. Or maybe the detective had finally realized working with us was his best option at this point. His only option, really.
Caine finished his sandwich, drained his milk, and started his story. "Gordon Giles contacted me about three months ago. Said he had information about a major embezzlement scandal at Halo Industries. Said he would give me all the information I needed to put several people away for a long time, if I would promise him protection."
"Why did he come to you?" Finn asked. "You're a homicide detective. White-collar crime isn't your specialty." "Giles said it went beyond embezzling, that someone was using the money for some pretty nasty things. Bribes, payoffs." Caine's gaze shot to me. "Contract killings."
Nobody spoke for a moment.
"Giles said he'd been collecting information for months," Caine continued. "He was supposed to give me the info at the opera house, and I was supposed to set him up in a safe house."
"Let me guess. All the information was stored on a flash drive, the one the men at your cabin wanted you to give to them," I finished.
Caine nodded again.
"Did you tell anyone about Giles?" I asked. "Did anyone in the police department know you were meeting with him?"
"I told my captain, Wayne Stephenson, what Giles wanted a few weeks ago. He brought a few other guys into the loop. Depending on what Giles gave us, Stephenson said he might set up a task force to look into the embezzling." Caine rubbed his hand over his head. But he didn't protest once again that Wayne Stephenson had absolutely nothing to do with the Air elemental. Maybe he'd had time to think about it. Or maybe the shock of the betrayal was wearing off, and the anger was setting in. But Caine had come around on this point. Good. It would make things easier if he wasn't protesting Stephenson's innocence every step of the way.
So Stephenson had known about the meeting. Odds were the police captain had tipped-off the Air elemental to the fact that Gordon Giles was turning state's evidence.
Maybe she'd bribed Stephenson to keep her informed. Maybe she had something on him. Either way, he'd blown the whistle. That's when the elemental had come up with her plan and decided on her radical course of action involving me, Finn, and Fletcher.
Caine had probably been thrown in as a bonus, so he couldn't point the finger back at Stephenson.
I looked at Finn. He'd put it together too. He nodded, telling me he'd start digging into Wayne Stephenson. "Did Giles say who was involved in the embezzling?" I asked.
"No," Caine said. "Although I suspected it might be Haley James. Giles mentioned her name several times. Like Finn said, this isn't my area of expertise. Giles fed me a few leads, teased me with some information, but that's it. That's all I know. Your turn."
Finn started. "Our turn? To share?"
"Try not to cry, Finn," I said. "Show him what we've got."
Finn spread out the IDs we'd taken off the dead guards and showed them to the detective. Caine didn't recognize any of the men, but he agreed the IDs were fake and probably wouldn't lead us anywhere. So Finn fished out the gold chain with the triangular tooth rune. The polished jet soaked up the soft kitchen light like a black sponge.
"Interesting," Caine murmured, studying the rune. "I've never seen this particular rune before, and I keep up with the symbols on all the gangs in town."
"I think our Air elemental constitutes a little more than a mere gang," Finn pointed out. Caine grunted his agreement.
"We also have this." I slid over the business card. "You had two guys tailing you at lunch. One of them passed his card to some college girls. Finn's digging for info on him right now."
Caine picked it up. "Charles Carlyle? I thought I recognized him. He cleans up nicer than I remember."
"You know him?" I asked.
The detective's mouth tightened. "Unfortunately. Calls himself Chuck or Chuckie C.
He's a small-time hood who likes to pretend he's bigger than he really is. Drifts from one crew to the next, always on the lookout for an easy score. A real slimeball. I ran into him a few times when I was working vice."
"Vice?" Finn asked. "Seems more like organized crime to me."
The detective shook his head. "You'd think so, but Chuckie likes the ladies. A new one every night, the younger the better. He's a vampire, you know. I think he gets off on the sex as much as he does the blood."
I nodded. Some vamps were like that. They all needed blood, but lots of them also drew power from sex-or feeding off the emotions of others. Some vamps, especially the old ones who'd mastered their power long ago, were just as dangerous as elementals. Or more so.
"Where does Chuckie C. like to hang out?" Finn asked.
"Northern Aggression," Caine replied. "The nightclub in Northtown." I frowned. That was the second time that name had come up. I flipped through Fletcher's file on Gordon Giles and scanned the contents. Yep, there it was,
"Northern Aggression," written in the old man's tight, controlled handwriting. I tapped my finger on the paper. "Giles also liked to frequent Northern Aggression."
"So they worked and played together," Finn said. Caine frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Charles Carlyle is currently an executive vice president at Halo Industries," I said.
The detective snorted. "That's got to be a mistake. Chuckie C. knows as much about business as I do. He's a hood, not a white-collar worker."
"No mistake, detective," Finn said. "Carlyle's financials show a regular paycheck deposited into his account every week from the company."
We sat there a minute, digesting the information. "So what's our next move?" Caine asked.