What Are You, Mick St. John? [ch. 15] PG13
Posted: Fri Mar 13, 2009 2:12 am
Beta: As usual, much thanks goes to the ever-awesome Barb, Bank1115—she’s fantastic.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
What Are You, Mick St. John?—Chapter 15
After Beth had left, Josh had fallen into a restless sleep on the couch trying to brainstorm ideas on how to further the investigation. Then, in the wee hours, he woke with his tie wrapped awkwardly around his throat and a notion that kept nagging him. So he removed the tie and stayed up the rest of the night reading Julia Stevens’ book Wronged Man, hoping to get some sense of what had happened between Lee Jay and Mick St. John’s father that would cause so much animosity to be carried over to the son—and to be returned by the son. It didn’t make sense. He sat staring at Mick St. John Sr.’s picture for a full twenty minutes. They look completely identical, except for the haircut—it’s uncanny!
At nine o’clock in the morning, Josh called in to tell his assistant that he’d be working out of the office that day and to reschedule all his appointments. He could tell she thought it odd, but she didn’t question him—nor did he provide her with an explanation.
He went back to the book. A few hours later, he came up with little he didn’t already know. “I wonder if St. John kept all his dad’s files…” he mused aloud. “Well…only one way to find out.”
He took a quick shower and changed into casual clothing. Then he grabbed a few items from the back of the closet and went for a drive.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Josh took the elevator up to Mick’s penthouse and walked quietly down the hall to the door that said MICK ST. JOHN—PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS in black block letters. He looked at his watch. Okay—it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. St John didn’t answer when I called his home or office. Hopefully he’s on a case and will be out for a while. He put his ear to the door and knocked lightly. He waited a moment, but heard nothing. Perfect.
Josh pulled out a lock pick set and set to work on the lock. “Damn,” he muttered as he repeatedly met with failure. “I need to practice more.”
All of a sudden, someone cleared their throat behind him. Josh whirled around. Mick St. John was standing in his now open apartment door, staring at him.
“M-Mick! Um…”
“Josh.” Mick folded his arms over his bare chest.
“I—I can explain…” Josh stammered.
“Okay,” Mick nodded. His eyes burned into Josh’s.
Josh suppressed a shiver. “I…came to see you. I knocked on the door, and there was no answer. But I thought I heard someone inside—like…a burglar or something.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“W-well…you were in your apartment. How could you have?”
Mick cocked an eyebrow. “That door is soundproof. How could you have?”
Josh’s eyes took in Mick’s pyjama pants. “—Are you just getting up?! It’s the middle of the afternoon!” His eyes narrowed. “Did you see Beth last night?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Just as you are! —Were you with Beth last night?”
Mick nodded toward the doorknob. “You’ll never pick that lock. It’s impossible—give it up. Whatever you’re looking for, you’ll have to get a warrant—that is, if you can. I doubt you have any grounds, or you wouldn’t be trying to pick the lock.” With one last sharp look at Josh, he turned and went back into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.
Josh trembled with cold fury at the closed door. Okay. I’ll have to come up with something else—I think it’s time I saw the scene of the crime for myself.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
After a quick stop at his office, Josh sliced through the crime scene tape on the door and carefully pulled open the door to the warehouse. In his hand he held Carl’s initial report, as well as notes on what had later been discovered. Josh stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at him. He could see where forensics had been, with all the fingerprint powder and the evidence markers. He crouched down to look at what remained of the blood spatter and shook his head. Not injured…right. He rose and shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it on a nearby table. Something clinked underneath and he lifted the jacket back up. Wooden stakes? He shook his head. Wonder what those were used for…
A large wooden cupboard caught his eye. There was no fingerprint dust on the handles. Josh snorted. Thorough job, guys. …But I guess it wasn’t really relevant. He opened it anyway, and his mouth dropped open. Did no one at least look in here?!
There, on the shelf, was a bag with Lee Jay’s name on it. Josh grabbed it and knelt down on the floor. He dumped it out—sweatshirt, razor, toothbrush, and, at the bottom, a pile of books.
“What the—”
Josh’s eyes went wide as he picked up the first book—and the next—and the next.
“The Vampire Dictionary?—Bloodlines: Vampire Lore?—Myths and Realities of Vampirism?!” he scoffed. “Lee Jay had some taste in reading mater—” And then it hit him all at once: the rooftop entry—the lack of injury when all evidence pointed to injury—the “mutant” blood—Mick’s lookalike PI dad—the stakes—the ‘I know what you are, Mick.’
“Holy crap—it can’t be. It can’t be.”
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Carl was flipping bacon for a late-lunch BLT, staring at the veins of fat and wondering what blood tasted like, when his phone started vibrating on the counter. He frowned at the caller ID. Uh-oh…
“Davis here.”
“Carl. Meet me at the warehouse. Alone. Now.”
Carl heard a click and removed his phone from his ear only to stare at it. The warehouse? Damn, this can’t be good.
He turned off the stove, shoved a napkin full of bacon in his jacket pocket, and ran out the door.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Josh was pacing back and forth across the warehouse floor. He was more agitated than Carl had ever seen him. Carl moved towards him with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Josh spotted him and in a few running strides closed the gap between them. He grabbed Carl by the lapel and shook him. “Carl! Carl!!! They’re VAMPIRES. Vampires!”
Carl’s tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “How did you—I mean, what makes you think that?”
“I came here—looking for anything—and I found Lee Jay’s stash. Look at what he’s been reading!” He dragged Carl over to the table where he’d displayed the books beside the stakes. “It all fits!”
Carl quickly read through the titles and tried to slow his heartbeat. “Okay, look—Josh, calm down.”
“Calm down?! How can you expect me to calm down?! We’re surrounded by vampires!”
Carl suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Not yet, but we will be soon, if you keep yelling like that—one of them’s bound to hear! He grabbed the panicking district attorney by the arm. “Josh, shut up. Shut. Up.”
“I need to call Beth. She needs to know what St. John really is. She’s in danger.”
Carl folded his arms. “The other day you were so sure she was covering for St. John.”
“Not this! She can’t know what she’s covering for—no, I don’t believe it! Vampires! She wouldn’t keep silent—it’s the story of the year!”
“It’s not always about the story, Josh. Besides, didn’t St. John save her life?”
“Maybe he’s using that as leverage on her—to keep her silent!”
Carl raised an eyebrow. “—To keep her silent on what you don’t think she knows?”
Josh stopped and stared at him. “You don’t believe me do you? You think I’m crazy!”
“No, I don’t think you’re crazy. If you’re crazy, then I’m crazy too.”
“What?!”
“Josh—I know. I know. Listen to me—I know.”
“You know?! How long have you known?! When were you planning on telling me?!”
“I couldn’t, Josh.” Carl said quietly. But Josh wasn’t listening anymore.
“We have to notify…I don’t know…someone! The government!” Josh yanked his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open and he started pressing buttons until a loud click suddenly forced its way into his consciousness. His head snapped up.
He was staring down the barrel of a gun. Carl’s gun.
“I can’t let you make that call, Josh.”
To be continued...
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
What Are You, Mick St. John?—Chapter 15
After Beth had left, Josh had fallen into a restless sleep on the couch trying to brainstorm ideas on how to further the investigation. Then, in the wee hours, he woke with his tie wrapped awkwardly around his throat and a notion that kept nagging him. So he removed the tie and stayed up the rest of the night reading Julia Stevens’ book Wronged Man, hoping to get some sense of what had happened between Lee Jay and Mick St. John’s father that would cause so much animosity to be carried over to the son—and to be returned by the son. It didn’t make sense. He sat staring at Mick St. John Sr.’s picture for a full twenty minutes. They look completely identical, except for the haircut—it’s uncanny!
At nine o’clock in the morning, Josh called in to tell his assistant that he’d be working out of the office that day and to reschedule all his appointments. He could tell she thought it odd, but she didn’t question him—nor did he provide her with an explanation.
He went back to the book. A few hours later, he came up with little he didn’t already know. “I wonder if St. John kept all his dad’s files…” he mused aloud. “Well…only one way to find out.”
He took a quick shower and changed into casual clothing. Then he grabbed a few items from the back of the closet and went for a drive.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Josh took the elevator up to Mick’s penthouse and walked quietly down the hall to the door that said MICK ST. JOHN—PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS in black block letters. He looked at his watch. Okay—it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. St John didn’t answer when I called his home or office. Hopefully he’s on a case and will be out for a while. He put his ear to the door and knocked lightly. He waited a moment, but heard nothing. Perfect.
Josh pulled out a lock pick set and set to work on the lock. “Damn,” he muttered as he repeatedly met with failure. “I need to practice more.”
All of a sudden, someone cleared their throat behind him. Josh whirled around. Mick St. John was standing in his now open apartment door, staring at him.
“M-Mick! Um…”
“Josh.” Mick folded his arms over his bare chest.
“I—I can explain…” Josh stammered.
“Okay,” Mick nodded. His eyes burned into Josh’s.
Josh suppressed a shiver. “I…came to see you. I knocked on the door, and there was no answer. But I thought I heard someone inside—like…a burglar or something.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“W-well…you were in your apartment. How could you have?”
Mick cocked an eyebrow. “That door is soundproof. How could you have?”
Josh’s eyes took in Mick’s pyjama pants. “—Are you just getting up?! It’s the middle of the afternoon!” His eyes narrowed. “Did you see Beth last night?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Just as you are! —Were you with Beth last night?”
Mick nodded toward the doorknob. “You’ll never pick that lock. It’s impossible—give it up. Whatever you’re looking for, you’ll have to get a warrant—that is, if you can. I doubt you have any grounds, or you wouldn’t be trying to pick the lock.” With one last sharp look at Josh, he turned and went back into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.
Josh trembled with cold fury at the closed door. Okay. I’ll have to come up with something else—I think it’s time I saw the scene of the crime for myself.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
After a quick stop at his office, Josh sliced through the crime scene tape on the door and carefully pulled open the door to the warehouse. In his hand he held Carl’s initial report, as well as notes on what had later been discovered. Josh stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at him. He could see where forensics had been, with all the fingerprint powder and the evidence markers. He crouched down to look at what remained of the blood spatter and shook his head. Not injured…right. He rose and shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it on a nearby table. Something clinked underneath and he lifted the jacket back up. Wooden stakes? He shook his head. Wonder what those were used for…
A large wooden cupboard caught his eye. There was no fingerprint dust on the handles. Josh snorted. Thorough job, guys. …But I guess it wasn’t really relevant. He opened it anyway, and his mouth dropped open. Did no one at least look in here?!
There, on the shelf, was a bag with Lee Jay’s name on it. Josh grabbed it and knelt down on the floor. He dumped it out—sweatshirt, razor, toothbrush, and, at the bottom, a pile of books.
“What the—”
Josh’s eyes went wide as he picked up the first book—and the next—and the next.
“The Vampire Dictionary?—Bloodlines: Vampire Lore?—Myths and Realities of Vampirism?!” he scoffed. “Lee Jay had some taste in reading mater—” And then it hit him all at once: the rooftop entry—the lack of injury when all evidence pointed to injury—the “mutant” blood—Mick’s lookalike PI dad—the stakes—the ‘I know what you are, Mick.’
“Holy crap—it can’t be. It can’t be.”
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Carl was flipping bacon for a late-lunch BLT, staring at the veins of fat and wondering what blood tasted like, when his phone started vibrating on the counter. He frowned at the caller ID. Uh-oh…
“Davis here.”
“Carl. Meet me at the warehouse. Alone. Now.”
Carl heard a click and removed his phone from his ear only to stare at it. The warehouse? Damn, this can’t be good.
He turned off the stove, shoved a napkin full of bacon in his jacket pocket, and ran out the door.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Josh was pacing back and forth across the warehouse floor. He was more agitated than Carl had ever seen him. Carl moved towards him with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Josh spotted him and in a few running strides closed the gap between them. He grabbed Carl by the lapel and shook him. “Carl! Carl!!! They’re VAMPIRES. Vampires!”
Carl’s tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “How did you—I mean, what makes you think that?”
“I came here—looking for anything—and I found Lee Jay’s stash. Look at what he’s been reading!” He dragged Carl over to the table where he’d displayed the books beside the stakes. “It all fits!”
Carl quickly read through the titles and tried to slow his heartbeat. “Okay, look—Josh, calm down.”
“Calm down?! How can you expect me to calm down?! We’re surrounded by vampires!”
Carl suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Not yet, but we will be soon, if you keep yelling like that—one of them’s bound to hear! He grabbed the panicking district attorney by the arm. “Josh, shut up. Shut. Up.”
“I need to call Beth. She needs to know what St. John really is. She’s in danger.”
Carl folded his arms. “The other day you were so sure she was covering for St. John.”
“Not this! She can’t know what she’s covering for—no, I don’t believe it! Vampires! She wouldn’t keep silent—it’s the story of the year!”
“It’s not always about the story, Josh. Besides, didn’t St. John save her life?”
“Maybe he’s using that as leverage on her—to keep her silent!”
Carl raised an eyebrow. “—To keep her silent on what you don’t think she knows?”
Josh stopped and stared at him. “You don’t believe me do you? You think I’m crazy!”
“No, I don’t think you’re crazy. If you’re crazy, then I’m crazy too.”
“What?!”
“Josh—I know. I know. Listen to me—I know.”
“You know?! How long have you known?! When were you planning on telling me?!”
“I couldn’t, Josh.” Carl said quietly. But Josh wasn’t listening anymore.
“We have to notify…I don’t know…someone! The government!” Josh yanked his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open and he started pressing buttons until a loud click suddenly forced its way into his consciousness. His head snapped up.
He was staring down the barrel of a gun. Carl’s gun.
“I can’t let you make that call, Josh.”
To be continued...
I could kinda picture it in my head, too. 
I don't know that pulling a gun on Josh was the best option for Carl to take! He also acknowledged that he knew about vampires and I don't think that was the smartest thing Carl could have done. If he shoots Josh people and vamps would notice as he is in the public's eye. Carl has got to do some quick thinking here!!!! Love this story and can't wait for more... 
I just hope Josh is having an appropriate reaction for Josh.