They weren’t getting anywhere. On a hunch, Brandon asked, “Can I use your restroom?”
Adam glanced toward the bathroom as if considering the request. “Sure.”
Brandon made his way down the hallway, briefly glancing into Adam’s bedroom. The bed was unmade, but the room generally sparse and clean. On the wall above the bed was a framed vintage movie poster. The movie, Blood of the Vampire, reminded Brandon of the old black-and-white B-rate flicks he used to watch Saturday nights when he was a kid. A woman lay on her back, neck exposed, a look of terror on her face as a vampire approached. The byline started, “No woman alive is safe…”
Brandon went into the bathroom and waited a few minutes, flushed the toilet, ran the water as if washing his hands and came back out.
He stopped short at the bedroom, directing a question at Adam. “You a fan of vampire movies?”
“Ah, no. That poster was Lauren’s.”
“She decorated your bedroom for you?”
“Lauren gave it to me.”
“So, you put it above the bed,” Brandon said.
“Yeah.”
“One more thing,” Brandon said, pulling out his phone and scrolling to the photo of the necklace found near Lauren’s body. “Does this look familiar?”
He took the phone from Brandon and stared at the necklace with the crescent moon pendant. “Uh. It sort of looks familiar. I’m not sure. Why?”
“Did Lauren ever wear it?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, I didn’t pay attention to everything she wore.”
“Alright,” Brandon said, taking the phone back. He handed him a business card. Jackson did the same. “Call either one of us if there’s something else you remember. And don’t plan on any out-of-town trips. Understood?”
“Yes.”
In the police cruiser, Brandon said, “We got crossed up back there.”
“How so?”
“I know the good cop, bad cop thing can work—”
“That’s not what—”
“You were being easy on him, I wasn’t. That works, sometimes. But if I’m trying to break someone, it doesn’t help if you step in and act like his mother—”
“That’s not fair, chief.”
“Maybe not. But he was getting pissed. Did you see the rage?”
“I guess.”
“I think you did, and you didn’t like it, so you tried to cover it up, tried to make him feel better. That’s not your job. If he needs a counselor, he can go find one—”
“Okay, damn. Get off my back,” she paused. “Chief.”
He wanted to say more, but she didn’t need a lecture. He’d gotten the point across, and that was good enough for now.
On the way to the methadone clinic in Port Angeles they compared notes.
“Give me your impression of Adam,” Brandon said.
“He hasn’t been totally truthful, until now.”
“You believe what he said today, that he doesn’t know who Lauren was cheating with?”
“I think he honestly wanted to believe she wasn’t cheating at all,” Jackson said. “But then again, I was acting like his mother.”
The sarcasm bit at Brandon. He shouldn’t have made the mother comment.
“Alright. I’m sorry,” he said. “Let’s move on. Give me a summary of what we know so far.”
“Adam and Lauren have a rocky relationship. She disappears while camping with Adam and two other friends. Last seen buying beer, alone. Probably drank the beer with someone she knew on a sea stack. Someone with a motive to kill her.”
“You think the bite mark means anything?”
“It definitely means something, I just don’t know what. My first thought was it’s some sort of kinky thing, connected to sex. But the coroner said the bite occurred after she died.”
“You mentioned the poster in Adam’s bedroom—”
Brandon described the poster.
Jackson shook her head. “It doesn’t feel right. It’s too simple. And he’s not acting guilty. I know, all perps don’t act guilty and sometimes the easiest answer is the right answer.”
“Exactly what I was about to say.”
“I know, that’s why I said it first.”
The clinic was about half an hour away, and they drove in silence for a while, until Jackson asked. “Maybe the bite mark has more importance than we think. I mean, there is that whole vampire symbol thing everyone’s talking about.”
Brandon wasn’t convinced the graffiti had any connection to Lauren’s murder.
“I need to follow-up with this guy Vasile, some sort of vampire expert in Forks. Not that I take any of that seriously, but he might give us a lead on where we might find the fangs we’re looking for.”
“Sounds interesting,” she said.
“Nothing like a freak show to muddy up an investigation.”
On their way from Sequim to Port Angeles, they passed a furniture store, reminding Brandon that he needed to get a bed for Emma. Probably a dresser wouldn’t hurt, either.
“You mind if we stop here for a sec?”
“Don’t go there,” she said. “Overpriced. Cheap stuff too.”
“You know a better place? I need someone to deliver.”
“In Port Angeles. I’ll show you.”
He was glad she’d moved on from being pissed about the mother comment. He needed Jackson on his side—she’d been supportive of Brandon, so far. Not to mention, she was a good investigator.
Jackson directed him to a warehouse furniture store in PA. Brandon bought a bed and dresser. Upon hearing he only had a recliner in the living room, Jackson talked him into buying a couch and love seat too.
“What if you ever have company over?”
“As if,” Brandon said.
“And if you want to watch TV with your daughter? You only have one chair.”
“Good point.”
He spent enough to qualify for free delivery. They were in and out of the store in under thirty minutes.
The site manager for the methadone clinic where Lauren had worked wasn’t in, but they were able to talk to a shift supervisor.
The supervisor, a woman named Cynthia, was newer and hadn’t known Lauren long.
“Lauren was a lead too, but more on the counseling side. I’m in charge of the methadone distribution.”
“Did Lauren ever mention feeling threatened by the clients?”
“No. But again, we didn’t talk much. If there’s a threat by a client, we have a protocol for that. Not that Lauren was a fan of following the rules.”
“What do you mean?” Jackson asked.
“A while back, we had some trouble with a dealer targeting patients.”
It sounded like the stories they’d heard about Ruby.
“What did Lauren do?” Brandon asked.
“Found out where the lady was parked, two or three blocks away. Threatened to turn her in. At least that’s the rumor.”
It was another confirmation of Brooke’s claim that Ruby and Lauren had it in for each other.
“What came of the dealer? Did Lauren call the police?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said, ‘she’”, Jackson said. “This dealer was a woman?”
“So they say. The clients I mean. I’m sure Lauren had good intentions. But you can’t go targeting dealers.” She considered Brandon. “It sounds like she was trying to do the police’s job for them.”
Brandon ignored the jab. “Anything else?”
“That might help you in your investigation? No. Except, well. I can say she didn’t keep the best of company.”
“Her friends?”
“Shady characters if you ask me,” she said. “One of them works here, when he shows up.”
“Is his name Justin?”
She nodded.
“What about a young man named Adam?” Jackson asked. “Her boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Never heard of him.”
“Any other friends?”
/>
Brandon was thinking of Brooke.
“Look, I’m new here—”
There was a knock at the door and a staff member poked her head in to ask Cynthia a question about a client asking for an exception to dosing rules. Cynthia seemed to take that as her cue to end the conversation.
Brandon handed her his card and they left Cynthia to her work.
They were mostly silent on the way back to Forks, and Brandon thought Jackson had fallen asleep. He appreciated the time to think through the case. Some things didn’t fit—like the necklace. Both Adam and Brooke—the two people closest to Lauren—suggested the necklace didn’t belong to Lauren. It could be a coincidence it happened to be near where Brandon had found the beer cans. Of course, that she had bought those specific cans was an assumption. He wouldn’t be sure until he heard back about any DNA or fingerprints.
Then there were the bite marks. Adam had a vampire poster on his wall, but so did a lot of other people who frequented Forks. It was turning out that Adam had motive—Lauren had been cheating on him. But unlike Justin, Adam had no history of assault.
The dealer Lauren had confronted was obviously Ruby. Was she angry enough at Lauren to murder her? Scared of what Lauren might do to her?
Ten miles outside Forks, dispatch sent out a call about a break-in at the Darklove Damsel store—the one owned by Phoenix Weaver. Will responded that he would take the call.
“Drop me off at the Darklove store,” Brandon said.
“It’s just a burglary. I’m sure Will can handle it,” Jackson said.
“He can, but I already interviewed the owner about the bite marks.”
Jackson dropped him off in front of Phoenix’s shop. Will was already inside, interviewing Phoenix.
“Hey, chief,” Will said.
“Don’t mind me,” Brandon said.
Phoenix glanced at Brandon before continuing. “I haven’t taken full inventory yet, so I don’t know everything that’s missing. But at the very least, several tomes on the occult. All of my vampire books.”
“All?”
“Well, at least the more serious ones.”
“Any reason why you’re calling just now?” Will asked, “At three in the afternoon.”
“I keep my own hours,” Phoenix said. “I know my customers, and it makes no sense for me to open up at seven in the morning.”
“How did they enter?” Will asked.
“Back here.”
Phoenix led them through a black curtain to the back of the shop. The small storage area was mostly empty. It appeared that whatever stock Phoenix kept was on display.
“It was like this when I got here,” she said.
The door handle to the rear entrance had been broken clean off.
“Looks like someone took a sledgehammer to it,” Will said.
“Yeah, and they didn’t have good aim,” Brandon said, pointing out the scratches and dents where the object, whatever it was, had hit the door but not the handle. The disfigured metal doorknob was on the ground a foot away.
“You smell that?” Brandon asked.
“Spray paint,” Will responded.
They both looked up and saw the source of the odor. On the back wall of the shop, someone had used spray paint to form the same dagger ankh found outside of the Forks Diner. Red paint dripped down the brick wall. It was still fresh.
“Was this here when you came in earlier?”
“I would have noticed that,” Phoenix said, her voice full of fear. “It is the symbol of the vampire.” She turned to Brandon. “Did you talk to Vasile?”
“I haven’t had time—”
She latched onto Brandon. “I warned you, officer—”
“Ma’am, he’s not an officer,” Will said. “He’s the Chief of Police.”
She narrowed her eyes at Will. “The undead respect no rank.”
Brandon lifted her hand off his arm. “Your friend Vlad is on my list.”
“His name is Vasile.”
“Why would these…vampire people target your shop?” Will asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t done anything against their kind.”
“You think Vasile did this?” Brandon asked.
“I did not…” Her voice broke. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Okay, Ms.…Phoenix,” Will said. “We’re going check around a bit more. We’ll let you know if we have any more questions.”
When Phoenix had gone, Will said, “Did you see that? She’s terrified of this Vasile fellow.”
“It seems so.”
“But why?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. You’ve got to admit. She’s a little off her rocker,” Brandon said.
“I say she’s afraid and there must be a reason.”
“Okay,” Brandon said, wanting a change of topic. He’d heard enough of vampires for one day. “Let’s take a look around.”
They searched the alley. There was no sign of a discarded spray paint can. Whoever had painted the symbol had done it while they were inside Phoenix’s shop.
He turned to Will. “Ask around at the local hardware shops. There can’t be too many folks buying red spray paint in a town this small.”
“You want prints?” Will asked.
“Off the back door, yes. I’ll trust your judgement about inside. The problem is, there are customer prints all over the place in there.”
“Any money missing?”
“She said no.”
“Okay. I’ll let you finish up here.”
Brandon started down the alley way.
“Brandon,” Will called out after him.
“What’s up?”
“This vampire stuff,” Will said. “You know, the symbols, the bite on the neck. People stealing books on dark magic. You think it’s connected?”
“To Lauren Sandoval’s murder?”
“The symbol is the same as the one at the diner. I mean, it’s possible some vampire freak is out to get people.”
“See, the problem is, I don’t believe in vampires,” Brandon said.
“That don’t stop some people from acting like one, though.”
He had a point. The killer wanted them to believe he was a vampire, or at least someone associated with the local vampire culture.
Finding out who was behind the ankhs could be the break that led them to Lauren’s murderer. Whether they were a vampire enthusiast or someone posing as one didn’t matter to Brandon, as long as he caught them before they killed again.
Chapter 18
Brandon walked the half mile to the station, entering through the front door. Without looking up, Sue said, “There’s someone waiting for you.”
He glanced at the empty reception area.
“She’s in your office.”
Sue let a stranger into Brandon’s office?
“Before you get all miffed at me, just…go back.”
He eyed her, letting Sue know he was irritated. She turned to her computer.
Brandon shook his head and headed back.
He found Emma lounging in his chair, her feet propped on his desk.
“I got bored,” she said, before he could ask why she’d showed up at his work.
“So, what, they arrested you?”
He pointed to her feet and she slid them from the desk.
“I came looking for you,” she said. “Sue told me I could hang out here.”
So now Emma’s on a first-name basis with Brandon’s admin.
“A police station isn’t the best place for kids.”
“I know, it’s really boring.”
Jackson popped her head in the door.
“Hi Isabel,” Emma said.
“Is there anyone you haven’t met?”
“She was bored, so—”
“I heard.”
“We owe her three dollars,” Emma said.
“We? For what?”
“It’s on me. Don’t worry about it,” Jackson said.
“We went out for ice
-cream,” Emma said.
“Thank you,” Brandon said to Jackson. He turned to Emma. “Out of my seat. I have work to do.”
“Come on out here and I’ll show you what police officers do for fun,” Jackson said.
“What is it? Emma asked.
“Writing reports.”
Brandon answered a handful of emails, ignoring several from the mayor and her henchwoman the Minister of Tourism.
He deleted a reminder about a presentation to the city council. He didn’t have time for planning committees, public relations get-togethers or, God forbid, uniform design meetings.
Jackson had sent him a draft report of their visit to Sequim and Port Angeles. He had a few additional notes, but otherwise the summary was thorough and well written.
Brandon switched off his computer. He found Emma in the common area with Jackson and Sue. Emma was speaking to a woman in a vampire cape.
The vampire turned to Brandon. It was the mayor. She pulled a pair of plastic fangs out of her mouth.
“Chief Mattson, I just met your daughter.”
“I see that.”
“She’s a lovely young lady.”
“Gets it from her mom,” Brandon said.
Next to the mayor was Ted the reporter, and Olivia.
“What is he doing in here?” Brandon asked, motioning to Ted.
“Oh, calm down, Brandon. We were hoping for a photo of me and the officers.”
“Wearing that?”
“It’s part of our promotion for the Moonbeam Festival.”
“Come on, dad,” Emma said.
“I’m not taking a picture with a role playing—”
“I’ll do it,” Jackson said. “My kids would think it was great.”
Brandon thought about it. It never hurt to show the police in a positive light, considering the way the media usually covered law enforcement. In Seattle, there was a whole department dedicated to public relations.
“Fine. But not in here.”
“In the lobby then,” the mayor said.
On their way out, Ted slid in next to Brandon. “Hey chief, any comment on the Sandoval girl?”
“Ongoing investigation. No comments.”
Ted grimaced. “Is Neal Nolan in?”
Brandon followed Ted’s eyes—studying the schedule board.
“Hoping for a leak on the case?” Brandon asked.
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