On the long flight out to California, I realized that I hadn’t been tormented by the Mastermind in two days. That was unusual, and I wondered if he was traveling too. Que pasa, Mastermind? Maybe he was on the plane to San Francisco with me? I remembered a tired old joke about paranoia. A man tells his psychiatrist that everybody hates him. The psychiatrist says he’s being ridiculous - everybody hasn’t met him yet.
It got worse. At one point, I actually took a walk down the aisle and checked out the other passengers. No one looked even vaguely familiar. No Mastermind on board. No one seemed to be wearing fangs, either. I was losing it.
I arrived at San Francisco International Airport and was met by agents from the FBI. They told me that Kyle was on his way from New Orleans. Lately, Kyle had been pressuring me more than ever about making the switch to the FBI. The change certainly made financial sense. Agents earned a lot more than detectives. The hours were usually better, too. Maybe I would talk to Nana and the kids after this was over. Hopefully soon, but why should I think that?  I left the airport with three agents in a dark blue off-road vehicle. I sat in back with the senior agent from San Francisco. His name was Robert Hatfield and he told me some of what they had so far. ‘We found where some of the so-called vampires are staying. It’s a ranch in the foothills south of Santa Cruz, not too far from the ocean. At this juncture, we don’t know if Inspector Hughes is being held there.  She hasn’t been spotted.’
‘What’s out there in the hills?’ I asked Hatfield. He could have been anywhere between thirty-five and fifty. He looked fit. His hair in a short brush cut. Appearances obviously meant a lot to him.  ‘Not a hell of a lot. It’s rural. A couple of fairly large ranches. Rocks, desert birds of prey, a few mountain cats.’
‘Not tigers?’I asked.
‘Funny you should mention tigers. The ranch out there used to be a preserve for wild animals. Bears, wolves, tigers, even an elephant or two. The owners trained animals, mostly for use in feature films and commercials. They were basically hippies left over from the Sixties.  The ranch was actually licensed by the Department of the Interior. It did business with Tippi Hedren, Si............