Free Blood Harvest by Michael Weinberger

“Cap.”
    He glared at Steve for a moment, then looked away, shook his head and chuckled as if responding to a personal joke.
    “I want you out of here,” the Captain said when he finally spoke to Steve. “I want you to start building the case with that useless grave robber friend of yours.”
    Steve started to protest involving Chris in the case. Although the two had been friends for years and there was no one Steve trusted more, he also knew Chris could, at times, be so eccentric it would become downright unnerving. Besides, it felt like he was being sent away from the crime scene, and after all, there was a huge amount of information still waiting to be collected from the surrounding area. Before any words of protest passed his lips, Steve felt the Captain abruptly grab his arm and pull him toward the exit.
    “I know what you’re thinking Jacobs, but you’re gonna have to trust me on this one. Whenever the feds get involved, and they will be involved in this case, things tend to get sticky. I like Special Agent Macintyre and I’m really hoping he is in charge of the team being sent here, but something about this isn’t sitting right with me. I spoke briefly with Macintyre before you arrived and he seems as lost as the rest of us. In my book when the arrogant know-it-alls at the FBI are ready to admit they don’t know something then the situation is serious enough for major concern.”
    The Captain’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper and Steve had to strain to hear him.
    “I want someone on my team investigating this thing, but I have a hunch the LAPD is going to be taken off the case. I want you to stay on it covertly. I don’t mean undercover, I mean completely off the radar. I am going to brief everyone that you and Barnes have other priorities, working on another case maybe, I don’t know. Regardless, you’ll officially be indisposed. Understand?”
    He didn’t. The idea actually disturbed him. Sure he had worked undercover before, but this was a lot more like Hollywood spy stuff. Steve began to feel the onset of a nervous tremor and his hand reached for the flask. As he felt the Captain’s eyes on him he casually let his arm fall away from his pocket to his side and willed the tremor to subside.
    “I take it Detective that you will be able to handle the assignment and compose yourself in a professional manner?” The Captain had given him an over abundance of leeway with regard to this unprofessional “quirk,” but tonight was obviously not the night to push the subject.
    “Yes sir.”
    The Captain nodded as they made their way past the final line of stacked bodies. Together they stopped and watched as four different gurneys were rolled out of the club with immobile victims on each. They made their way to the yellow police line ribbon. The Captain lifted the yellow ribbon with one hand and pushed Steve under and past with the other.
    “Go. Now! We’ll talk later.” Without another word the Captain turned his back on Steve and headed toward the club.
    Stunned by the urgency in the Captain’s voice, Steve absentmindedly began walking backwards and away from the scene. He suddenly became aware of the smell of the night air becoming cleaner the further away he moved from the club. He had gotten used to the putrid odor of the air inside and relished the damp but clean smell of the air around him. After a couple of deep cleansing breaths he turned his back to the club and slowly started to walk in the direction of the alleyway where he had parked his car. He briefly considered going back inside the club and confronting the Captain. The man was acting weird and totally out of character, but Steve knew going back inside would not be received well. He had known the Captain a long time; the man could be as immovable as a mountain if he wanted to be. Clearly, he wanted to be that way now. A final mind clearing breath removed the remainder of the desire to confront the Captain. Steve stretched his