THE DILEMMA SQUEEZED MY head as if I were caught in a vise. Either stay and solve the conspiracy, while Wendy died a horrible death. Or, rescue her and lose the chance of finding out what remained hidden in the white trailer.

I was close to unraveling the conspiracy. The trailer waited a hundred meters away. A memo on Merriweather’s desk stated that they would leave as soon as tonight’s storm passed, which was forecast for three A.M. All I had to do was find out what was inside the trailer and this assignment was as good as over. Thankfully.

Except now the vampire hunters had Wendy. Why had they taken her? Because I had escaped from their trap twice and rather than chase me again, they offered her as the bait I couldn’t refuse.

Time ticked past, as tangible as the air I breathed. Closing my eyes, I centered myself to stave off panic.

I massaged Merriweather’s hands. His sluggish pulse quickened slightly.

“Merriweather, what’s in the trailer?”

His eyelids fluttered as his mind struggled to rise through the subconscious state my hypnosis had put him in. “Redlight.”

“Goddamn it, I know that.” I fought the urge to shake him in frustration.

A vehicle rumbled to a halt outside on the parking lot. Two doors opened and slammed closed, followed by the crunching of heavy steps on the gravel around the building.

It was certainly more security guards. I held my breath and listened as two men entered the building and called out for Merriweather’s sentries. They yelled frantically, clearly having found the guards I’d left asleep in another room.

I had run out of time to interrogate Merriweather. Dropping his hands, I clenched my fists in frustration. My hope was to escape before the guards charged in here. The safest way to flee was out the window next to the glass display case.

I stepped quietly to the window and unlocked the latch.

A guard tried the door and discovered it was locked.

I jerked the window open and pushed out the screen.

The guard kicked the door and called out, “Merriweather-are you okay?” The guard yelled to his partner. “Call Central Security. We have an Amber Tango situation.”

I sprang through the window and landed on the freshly fallen snow.

Behind me, the guard broke the door open and yelled, “I see him. He’s going out to the side.”

I sprinted along the wall and turned the corner. I lunged for my car’s door and expected to feel a bullet claw into my back. Once inside I gunned the engine, spun the Dodge around, and headed for the plant exit. A guard ran out of the building and fired as the curtain of falling snow enveloped me.

I raced toward the plant exit, my head throbbing with anxiety. Everything about this case was one big snarl of trouble that grew more confused and desperate by the minute. Maybe I could get to Wendy and maybe I could get into the trailer, but first I had to lose these pesky guards.

Up ahead, a striped pole dropped across the exit lane along the right side of the guard shack. Red lights flashed on the pole. A guard came out of the shack and readied a submachine gun. He waved for me to stop.

Flooring the accelerator, I aimed for the pole. The guard brought the gun up to his shoulder. Just as I approached the guard shack, I veered to the left and shot out through the entrance lane on the other side of the shack. In the rearview mirror I could see the guard chasing after me, but by the time he had a clear shot I was out of range and lost in the snow. Nevertheless, I felt obliged to flip him off as I turned on the highway and headed to Evergreen.

My squeaking wipers arced through the flakes crusting my windshield. I called information for the address to the wrecking yard. Like any good private investigator, I kept local street maps under my car seat. I fished them out and alternated my attention between the icy road and searching for the address and directions to the wrecking yard.

Could I rescue Wendy and still solve this case? It was a little after five in the afternoon now. Wendy’s captor had given me two hours, which meant they expected me around seven. I had ten hours at the most to drive to Evergreen through this blizzard, get Wendy, and return before the convoy left. The task seemed impossible.

The vampire hunters were waiting to ambush me, obviously. In turn, I knew where they were. And now so would all the vampires in Denver. I called Carmen.

She answered on the second ring. Her breath was labored but relaxed. “Felix, it’s you. I’ve just finished teaching my Butt and Gut class. Good thing you called. I found something else about the Roswell UFO.”

“That can wait,” I replied. “The vânätori have captured Wendy Teagarden.”

Carmen remained silent. She then spoke sharply. “When did this happen?” Anger slashed through her voice. “Where is she? How did you find out?”

“They called on her cell phone. They’ve got her at the Soda Creek Wrecking Yard in Evergreen.”

“How could they have captured her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are you now?”

“Leaving Rocky Flats.”

“Which means you’re going after her alone?”

“Yes. Alone.”

“Figures. You and that hero complex,” Carmen said. “In this snow it’ll be a while before the other vampires and I can meet you. We might be supernaturals but traffic makes us the equal of humans.”

“I can’t wait for you,” I snapped.

“We’ll get there as soon as we can. And, Felix, you were looking for a connection between nymphomania outbreaks and vampire-hunter attacks in New Mexico and Ohio?”

“And?”

“Do you remember that the recent outbreaks and attacks started after a UFO crashed in Roswell?”

I zoomed around a van. “Maybe we could go over this later.”

“Give me a minute. The remains of the UFO and its crew were moved from Roswell to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, just outside Dayton, Ohio, the second location of the nymphomania.”

I eased off the accelerator. “What year?”

“Nineteen forty-seven. Then in 1952, the year when nymphomania and vampire attacks surfaced in Ohio, that was when the UFO was moved again.”

“Where to?”

“I don’t know,” she answered.

“You just said 1952.”

“So what?”

“That’s the year Rocky Flats became operational,” I said. The image of the white trailer in the Protected Area flooded my mind. The disjointed details and facts about this case swirled about me like a cloud. Dr. Wong and his sudden trips to Area 51. The red mercury. The outbreaks of nymphomania. It all sounded too crazy to be true.

“Where did you get this info? And if you say the Internet, then you’re wasting my time.”

“No, it was from a vampire in Ohio. She worked as a civilian secretary for the air force back in the fifties. She claims that she heard about an extraterrestrial biological entity. An alien.”

Alien? Was that the mysterious cargo in the trailer? A UFO? The infamous Roswell UFO?

“Felix, you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” I accelerated again.

“You still going after Wendy?”

“Yes.” My confusion coalesced into murderous determination. The vampire hunters would have to die. Then I would return to Rocky Flats and break into the trailer. I gave Carmen directions to the wrecking yard. “Get there as soon as you can.”

“Be careful, Felix.” She hung up.

By the time I had driven up the mountain on the interstate and taken the Evergreen exit, I had less than nine hours. Up here at altitude, the storm was a cascade of quarter-sized snowflakes. My vampire vision couldn’t penetrate the blizzard much deeper than human eyesight. The vague shapes of buildings flanked the road. Ice caked my windshield-wiper blades. Hot air whooshed out the heater vents and kept my Dodge a warm metal cocoon.

My car crawled along at twenty miles an hour. Whenever I tried to speed up, the Dodge yawed across the road. Better to creep along at this pace than spin into a ravine.