I rushed out into the hallway, down the stairs past Wigor and out into the street, gun drawn. There were too many people out in the streets; mostly zombies, some furries and some lost humans. Too many to be sure who the person who’d delivered the newspaper could be; not that I would have expected to find them, it had been a while since the paper got dropped.

But at least things made more sense now. Someone had seen us come in here. Maybe it was Petra after all … no, I should not be thinking like that. It was dangerous to suspect too many people of involvement. I holstered my gun and walked back inside.

I doubted if Wigor could help me, but decided to ask him anyway. “Wigor, did you by any chance see anyone come in here and drop off a newspaper?” I asked him.

He looked up from his desk. “Newspaper? I have not seen anyone come in out come out, for the newspaper, did you know that there are twenty-one newspapers in the city, one for every quarter, and that even zombies still read the paper, the ones that can that is, is,” he replied.

I sighed; his information was useless. If I hadn’t been on this case I would have looked at the newspaper to see where it had came from and checked

there; but he was much too smart for that. He had been leading me around, was wasting my time. I still wasn’t sure if he did it on purpose or if he was really that insane, but in this place both options were possible.

Wigor looked greedily at me. “Any giblets for me, I am hungry, hungry,” he said as he licked his lips. As I looked at him it dawned on me that Wigor was a wolf zombie; one with an insatiable appetite.

I shook my head. “Not yet, Wigor, but when I come back down I will sure have some for you; there are some tasty ones in the fridge upstairs.”
I went up the stairs and back to the apartment. As I entered, Victor looked at me. “Did you catch him?” he asked me.

I shook my head and gave a deep sigh. “I should have seen this coming. This guy is playing a sinister game with me. I bet he is just wasting time, knowing I have to solve his damn riddles in order to be able to find her, knowing that when I do she will be dead. He will have won if that happens.” I kicked a wastepaper basket across the room.

Victor patted my back and gave me a kind smile. “Don’t blame this on yourself, Tara. I didn’t reach the conclusion that the paper boy would be in on it. For that matter, you noticed the lack of letters and newspapers in the first place,” he reassured me.

I nodded. It still didn’t make me feel better. This man had laid an intricate plan; who knows how long he had spent on it. This wasn’t your average street robber or purse snatcher, he had planned every step. I was more a rat in his maze than a private detective doing her best to save someone.

So many things raced through my head. Maybe I should just stop, go home and tell Petra she could forget about my help. But what if that had been his plan all along: to keep me running around until I decided to just forget about it. The girl would die for sure and I would have failed, just like he’d said. I hated this man, I wanted to just shout and forget everything that had

happened. I just wanted to go home, spend time with Fraza, see if she would move in with me or me into her place, although Didymus and Rikku didn’t seem to settle well in different places. Or perhaps take that vacation we had spoken of in bed, a conversation that now felt like it had been weeks ago.

Victor looked at me and then back around the room,
“I am sorry, Victor, for dragging you into this.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry, Tara, I did that myself. From the moment I helped you with that riddle I have been a part of this. If I hadn’t said anything then I would not be here. And besides, I like this; it is exciting, better than sitting in my office or the club,” he said.

Somehow I felt sorry, not just for myself but also for him. He might not see it the same way, but I had dragged him into this. “Do you have any plastic bags?” I asked.

He gave me a weird look. “What do you need those for?”
I smiled. “Wigor. I promised him giblets, and given the fact he is a wolf zombie, he won’t mind if it is spoiled or rotten; they eat anything.”

Victor nodded, reached into his pocket and took out a small sandwich bag. It held a sandwich, which he took out and tossed in his mouth whole before handing me the bag. I walked to the nasty fridge, put the sandwich bag around my hand and scooped together some of the meat. The thick, fat flies buzzed angrily. I fought the strong urge to vomit and stood there dry heaving.

Once I had gathered enough of the meat I closed the fridge and looked at Victor. “Care for a lunch and a coffee? I know a great diner,” I asked him as I walked to the door.

He smiled and nodded. “Sounds good,” he replied as he followed me. As we reached the main hall and the front desk again, Wigor gave me an eager look. I smiled and tossed the bag on his desk, and he started drooling as he saw the bag and smelled the rancid meat. “Enjoy,” I said as Victor and I stepped out into the cold midday air.

Snow was still falling and had covered some of the more stationary zombies with a white cloak. I opened my car door and looked at Victor. “Let’s go to the diner then.”

Next Chapter: The vampire Diner