Tag: Rebecca Dodgers

#Lore24 – Entry #286 – Sentinel City by Night #12 – Rapid Escalation

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Things got real interesting real fast tonight. Was at the PD with Walsh, going over the security footage they’d gotten earlier that day.  Spotted a panel van, abductor’s vehicle of choice, leaving the scene, but couldn’t get a read on the plates.  His people were trying to track it but had lost it when it had passed through Chinatown heading east; seemed like the people there weren’t too fond of cooperation.  Better than nothing, though.  Could be hiding there; none of the bodies had been found too close to the district, but I suspected there were other reasons for that, though I hadn’t taken a drive through there myself just yet.

Before I could consider possible hiding places, I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize.  The lady on the other end was frantic when I answered.  Once I got her to slow down, she introduced herself as Kyou, one of the local Kindred.  Name rang a bell, think I’d heard it regarding one the Elysium locations in town.  Anyway, she was all in a huff because her prized ghoul, Kinzie, had gone missing earlier this evening.  The way she described him, he was the most beautiful thing walking, so I guess that qualified him for attention from our killer.  Hadn’t expected her to grab another one so soon; guess this Kinzie just hit all the right buttons and she couldn’t stop herself.  Might not be related, but my gut said otherwise.

Thankfully, we caught a break; Kyou had a nanny app installed on Kinzie’s phone and had an exact location of where he had been just before the phone had been turned off an hour or so ago.  Worked for me.  Took a ride with Walsh on this one, was a lot quicker getting through town when you’ve got the flashing lights and siren on your car.  Crap, forgot to call the mechanic again.  Maybe tomorrow night.  Noted.

Place was a high-end sex shop, dealt in real fancy gear for really rich kinksters.  Didn’t take long to track Kinzie’s movements; he was a regular, always picking up something or other for Kyou.  Kyou was an artsy type, dealt in fetish photography and living art.  Should’ve guessed she was a Toreador from the way she got all dreamy describing Kinzie to me, even in the midst of her panic.  Whatever.  We found Kinzie’s car in the garage next door, still locked up tight, keys laying on the ground next to the trunk. 

We hit the security office next, pulled the camera footage.  Same panel van came up behind Kinzie as he loaded up the night’s purchases.  Driver spoke to him, and he got right in the van without a fuss.  Classic vampire domination.  Makes it real easy to get your victims from one place to another.  Couldn’t get a good look at the driver, but we had the plates, and Walsh got on it immediately.  There were plenty of cameras in this part of town, traffic and otherwise, but that would take time to sort through them all. 

I made a call to Becky while Walsh was pulling info on the plates.  Won’t go into specifics, but I owe her a favor now; she seemed pretty pleased by this.  Bound to happen sooner or later; it’s just how her kind are.  By the time Walsh had determined the plates were stolen from a sports car that had turned up chopped a few weeks back, Becky was sending me texts with the direction the van had gone.  Walsh and I hit the trail hard and fast, headed eastward. 

Few miles later, we pulled into a dilapidated section of warehouses near the docks, the most likely place our target would have gone given the last hit Becky had sent us, an ATM camera at a liquor store a few blocks from the docks.  Could have been plenty other places for them to hide, but between the gang bangers, druggies, and other types the typically hung out in places like this, a serial killer would very likely go unnoticed.  Didn’t miss the fact that Walsh loosened the catch on his gun in its holster as we started into the area.  Decided to check my piece too.

Kept the windows cracked as we patrolled around.  I focused on what I could hear over the engine.  Got lucky after a little while, heard some screams that sure sounded to me like someone was getting tortured.  We headed in that direction, keeping the lights off as I guided us closer.  Came up to a particular warehouse that seemed a little nicer than the others around it, even had fresh padlocks on the fencing outside.  I stopped Walsh here, told him I’d go in alone to scout the place alone.  He didn’t like it, but then he figured I might be a lot quieter than him.  He said he’d get word back to the PD to get the SWAT team on standby just in case.  Seemed prudent.  I shot off a quick text to Sokolova to fill her in on what was going on. 

Then I stepped into the night, quickly picked the lock on the fence, and headed into the darkness, towards the screams.”

#Lore24 – Entry #278 – Sentinel City by Night #4 – Into the Spider’s Den

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Heard the club before I saw it; not unexpected.  Nothing special on the outside, just a neon sign in greens and blues and reds, similar in design to the hand stamp, and some steps leading down to the entrance.  Could have been any other vice den for all I knew, except I knew better; could see the bouncer’s aura, unquestionably a ghoul.  Had to keep my senses in check once I was inside; far too many details were blasting me.  Sex, blood, and leather were the dominant aromas even in the entryway and had been for a long time.  Had to work to get the guys at the entryway to understand what I wanted, dumb ghoul muscle, but soon enough I was given the express tour.

Main part of the club had a bit of a retro vibe to it, kind of like 80s shopping mall vibes, the kind that were already being phased out in the late 90s when I was still a mall rat, mixed with modern flat screens and sound systems, probably fueled by alcohol and drugs of all kinds, the music serving to mix it all into some kind of techno-euphoria.  Leather and latex composed the most common outfits in the place, and I was noticeably underdressed since I wore only my leather duster and none of the other fashionable accessories common in a place like this.  Would have been plenty of eyes on me were I not so adept at blending in.

I was ushered into the “dungeons” below the club proper then, heard plenty of things I’ll refrain from mentioning on the way when I extended my perception, but before long I was on what I can assume was the lowest level I’d ever be allowed into, given the nature of the club’s owner.  Was expecting a private playroom of some kind, not the extensive server room I found myself in.  Was almost as cold in there as it was outside, but only my ghoulish guide showed any signs of being cold.  For a moment I was envious of the cable management, knowing I’d never managed anything close even on my home setup, but then it was back to business when the club owner introduced herself.  Though I could appreciate her tech setup being a computer nerd myself, I didn’t let myself get too distracted.

Rebecca Dodgers was dressed much the same as any of the others upstairs:  latex and leather-clad raver girl outfit, cyber-goth style, mix of black and neon highlights, big dreadlocks in two thick tails on her head, leather cuffs and buckles galore on her platform boots.  Couldn’t see her face behind that gas mask, not even her eyes, but didn’t take me long to discern she was a Nosferatu, what with the misshaped proportions beneath the outfit and the fact that her hair wasn’t natural; seemed like they tended to be drawn to BDSM clubs more often than not, at least in my experience growing up on the west coast; easier to hide amongst the humans when you could hide your misshapen self amongst them, after all.  What caught me off guard was the thick Texan accent that came from behind that mask when she finally spoke; I was expecting valley girl or something more refined, not that heavy southern twang. 

Didn’t let my surprise show, though.  She already knew why I was there, had known of my arrival in town before I had even met Sokolova.  No surprise there; her kind always knew.  She correctly guessed the latest victim had previously visited her club, so I gave her the details I’d picked up.  Given that he was a human, she had little to go on without a face to look for on her impressive security setup; the multitude of well-concealed cameras hadn’t been unnoticed on my way down.  She did at least offer to run through some of her footage from the main floor from a few nights previous to see if we could spot our victim, though he hadn’t exactly been dressed distinctively given the regular clientele. 

Nothing came of the search, but we did at least exchange contact info and some small talk about the latest hardware, and she offered further help in tracking the victim once I had more info to share.  Though I already planned on visiting Walsh at the PD HQ, she suggested I check up on their files as well, since they’ve been keeping the records of this particular string of killings off the digital record for now as a favor to Sokolova.  I asked her what all the help would cost me but told me she was just being neighborly, some southern charm thing, I suppose.  Nothing’s for free, so I’m sure I’ll find out the real cost soon enough.

Once I’d left the club, I let the few details I had about the case percolate in my head for a while and instead focused on finding an apartment somewhere; couldn’t keep all my notes in a hotel room or my car, after all.  I’d seen the crime statistics for Sentinel City already, and they weren’t great.  I’d visit Walsh at his precinct tomorrow night, give the PD time to process the body, fill in more details.”