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"I find peace and serenity attractive. Bringing my father into our House is not the way to accomplish either of those. No," I concluded. "There's no way."
I looked out the window, wondering how things had gone so sideways.
-
Charla Bryant agreed happily to another meeting; Ethan was one of her customers, after all. The police tape was gone, the debris had been cleaned away from the lawn, and new wooden studs and plastic sheeting were in place. Charla was definitely a woman of action.
We stood in front of the building for a moment and scanned the scene.
"The damage looks mostly superficial," Ethan said.
"I think it was. The fire didn't go very deep into the building, but they spread across the front."
Ethan nodded. "Let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into."
"Actually, Luc would prefer you not get into any trouble."
Ethan smirked. "Then you shouldn't have let me out of the House, Sentinel."
I guess I couldn't argue with that. But I could keep an eye on him, so I followed him to the make-do front door, now guarded by a beefy man in a security guard's uniform.
He looked at us suspiciously when we approached. "Can I help you?"
"I'm Ethan, and this is Merit. We're here to talk to Ms. Bryant."
The guard smiled, his grin wide, toothy, and completely disarming, and nodded at Ethan. "I know who you are, Mr. Sullivan. I'm a Rogue myself, but I'm acquainted with your House and your tribulations with the GP. I hope you come out on top."
Ethan offered him a hand. "We just hope to come out of it," he said, "but I appreciate the thought."
The guard lifted the plastic and we walked inside, where the coppery tang of blood filled the air.
At least I'd actually eaten this time.
A woman with short brown hair peeked in from a door that led farther into the building. "Can I help you?"
"We're here to see Charla Bryant."
"I'll just notify her," she said brightly, then disappeared again.
Ethan, apparently not content to stand by and wait, walked to the end of the hallway, which ended in a large window.
"Come here," he said over his shoulder, and I joined him.
The window looked in on the bottling room. There were giant vats and long conveyors of bottles being washed, filled, capped, and cleaned. Everything was automated, and the entire line moved so fast my brain could barely keep up.
"Very cool," I said.
"And very crucial," said a voice behind us.
We turned to find Charla in the hallway in a fitted navy sheath dress and kitten heels. Her hair was tucked behind a couple of thin navy headbands. She looked like the perfect businesswoman - whether or not that business was supernaturally related.
"We supply the vampires of Chicago and much of the upper Midwest. We're one of the largest facilities in the country." She smiled at us and stepped forward. "Ethan," she said, extending a hand, "it's lovely to finally meet you in person."
"Charla, a pleasure. And I understand you've met Merit."
Charla nodded, then clasped her hands in front of her. "It looks like you've had an evening out. Except for the galoshes, perhaps."
"We've tried," Ethan said. "Per my note, we're here about the riots. We'd believed Robin Pope might have played a role in selecting Bryant Industries as her first target. But it appears she's unconnected to the crime."
"I see," Charla said, frowning. "So you're looking for another cause?"
"We're trying to identify the source of the riots so we can stop them from happening again," Ethan said.
Charla smiled, just a little. "Like the Supernatural Justice League?"
"Something like that," he said. "I don't suppose you've thought of any other reason you might have been targeted?"
"Honestly, I've been racking my brain. I wasn't convinced Robin had the capacity to organize people - she just doesn't think anyone is as intelligent as she is - but she is a very angry person. So from that perspective, the theory fit. But I cannot think of any other reason people would be upset with us, other than because we're associated with vampires, of course. No grudges, no family disputes."
My gaze kept flicking back to the production line, the blur of bottles streaming by.
"This is pretty amazing to watch," I said. "And it's so clean. Not that I expected it to be dirty, but when you're bottling a liquid, you expect spills. That room looks spotless."
"Oh, it is," Charla said. "We had a city inspection last week, so we've been extra careful about pretty much every detail around here, including security."
Ethan looked suddenly interested. "A city inspection?"
Charla nodded. "Department of Public Health. They inspect our facility as part of our arrangement with the city. They've known who we are and what we do for a very long time. They had to - it was the only way we could get operational permits." She frowned. "Although, come to think of it, this inspection was a little less than routine."
"How so?" Ethan asked.
"Normally, our inspections are scheduled a month in advance. We might have an unscheduled drop-in, of course, but the top-to-bottom reviews are planned. This last time, they gave us two days."
Ethan and I exchanged a glance.
"You said the inspection was a week ago," I said. "Just a few days before the riot?"
"I hadn't thought of that," Charla said. "But now that you mention it, yes. They did. Do you think that matters?"
"It's difficult to tell," Ethan said. "Perhaps it's coincidence."
Or perhaps, I thought, someone wanted inside the facility.
"Did anything weird occur during the inspection? Did they take anything, or look at anything they don't usually inspect?"
"I actually wasn't here that day," Charla said sheepishly. "I take a spa day twice a year, and I'd had it scheduled for months, so when they called about the inspection, I let my brother handle it."
I smiled politely. "Completely understandable."
She nodded but clearly wasn't convinced she'd done the right thing. "No one reported anything odd to me afterward, and the inspection report was fine. Do you suspect foul play?"
"We suspect the timing," Ethan said, gesturing toward the front door. "You might want to check with your brother, ask if anything unusual occurred he might not have thought to mention."
"I appreciate the suggestion," Charla said, her expression changing to the same all-business mode I'd seen in Ethan's. She wasn't a vampire, but she was a leader of humans, and a protector of her particular house.
