Free Dave Carver (Book 1): Thicker Than Blood by Andrew Dudek Page A

Lancelot, Gawain, Galahad, and Guinevere. It was like a baseball player getting the chance to swing a bat that had belonged to Babe Ruth.
    Once everyone was seated, I folded my hands in front of me in what I hoped was a wise, leaderly manner, and said, “So who has an idea of where to start?”
    Nobody spoke.
    “Come on, guys,” I said. “I’m really asking. New York’s my home, but I haven’t been here in almost ten years and I don’t know the supernatural community the way you guys do. And I’m really knew at this whole investigation thing.”
    Madison raised her hand, exactly like a schoolgirl, toying with the end of her pink hair, nervous that she needed to ask a question. “Uh, Captain McCreary never asked us what to do. He just told us.” I saw Earl nod in agreement. Kim’s and Rob’s faces stayed cold and impassive.
    “I’m not Jack McCreary,” I said. “By the time most of you guys met him, I’m betting he’d been in the business for twenty years or more. He already knew what he was doing. I need some help, folks. Brainstorming time. No such thing as a bad idea. Let’s go.”
    Kim Larsen spoke up, after a long silence, saving me from the embarrassment of my first meeting falling on its face. “We should probably speak to the neighbors around here. It’s a quiet neighborhood, but there’s usually someone around in these buildings. Someone might have seen something.”
    I nodded. “Good idea. What else?”
    Earl looked at Rob. “What about Dallas? He’s usually got a good ear to the ground. Maybe he heard something.”
    The older knight shrugged. “He’s still pretty pissed at me about that thing in Tribeca last year. Maybe he’d talk to you, but I can’t be sure. It’s hard to tell with that wizard. He’s easy to make mad.”
    “Uh...” Krissy said as if she wasn’t sure she should be speaking at this meeting. I motioned for her to go ahead. “What about the cops? Like, the regular cops. They’re probably trying to figure out what happened, right. I mean, maybe we can help each other.”
    “Anybody have a source in the NYPD?”
    Earl shook his head. “Captain McCreary always said the mortal cops weren’t worth the tin they used to make their badges.”
    I snorted. That was such an old-school Round Table attitude. “They usually know less than a newborn troll, I’ll admit that, but they’re not stupid. They’re not clued in to the supernatural world usually, but they know when something isn’t right.” I shook my head. “But if nobody’s got a contact, we’ll have to back-burner that for now. Good idea, though, Krissy.”
    She beamed, obviously proud to have contributed to her first meeting.
    “Okay,” I continued, “what’s next?”
    We came up with a three-pronged plan of action that I thought would be effective.
    Prong one: Kim Larsen would go knock on doors around the office, asking the neighbors if they’d seen anything the day that McCreary had died. She looked motherly, almost grandmotherly, so I figured she’d be better at wheedling information out of nervous straights than anybody else in the office.
    Rob Haney had been in the New York office longer than anybody, now that McCreary was gone. He had more contacts than anybody else. So prong two of the plan was for him to head uptown to talk to the patrons of a bar he knew that was popular with former vampire venom junkies.
    Prong three: Earl would take Krissy and me into the city proper to talk to this guy, Dallas, the guy who apparently kept his ear to the ground and was quick to anger and who everyone agreed probably knew something.
    I walked out of the round table room feeling confident. I’d organized my team quickly and efficiently. For the first time since Guyana I felt like I was doing something right.
     
    In my time with the Knights of the Round Table I’ve seen things that are amazing. I’ve walked the underwater streets of Atlantis, ridden a ghost ship through a hurricane, spoken with spirits,