by R K Close
Cole just stared at me like I’d sprouted another head.
“But real, I guess.” I looked around the bar, wondering if the guy had left town or not. “There’s more.”
“Well, do tell. How can it get worse than that?” Seth said sarcastically.
I leaned closer, and Seth and Cole did the same. “I just heard that the two campers died of exsanguination.”
Now both brothers sat back, slack-jawed and wide-eyed as they stared at me. Like me, they were no doubt trying to wrap their brains around the idea of vampires. It didn’t make it any easier to believe in one freak of nature, just because we were...freaks, ourselves.
“You’re shitting me,” Seth said.
“It makes sense. He didn’t smell like anything living. Hell, he smelled like death, only different.” Cole was staring out the window, rubbing the stubble on his chin, deep in thought.
“And that same smell was at the campsite. It was him. That blood-sucking piece of shit killed those two people,” Seth said.
Cole suddenly looked confused. “But how does Zoey know this?”
“Good question,” I said. “She also knows what we are.” I let that information sink in. If it wasn’t such a dangerous situation, I’d have loved to have a picture of the oh, shit looks on their faces. I still couldn’t help cracking a smile.
“Aw, you’re teasing,” Cole said, leaning back and smiling too.
I just shook my head. He stopped smiling.
“Oh, crap! What are we going to do? Has she told anyone? How did she know?” Cole said, in his usual rush of energy that was difficult to keep up with. “Holy crap. Is she like us? Is she like him? Wait, no, she smells good but totally not like us.”
Seth looked at me, and we both grinned and shook our heads.
“Slow down, Cole,” Seth said.
“Let me try to unpack that. She isn’t telling anyone. It might be that Zoey has her own secrets to protect. I don’t know what they are, and I didn’t push. The last thing I want to do is alienate her. She seems to be an ally, at this point,” I said.
“Zoey knows,” Cole said, mesmerized.
“But we don’t know for certain if Zoey is a friend or foe,” Seth said flatly.
“Of course, she’s a friend,” Cole said defensively.
“Seth’s right, Cole. We don’t know where Zoey stands in all of this. We need to remain cautious with her.” I stared at Cole until he acknowledged my point. I knew he didn’t agree, and it may have been possible he was now even more infatuated with Zoey.
10
Jessica
Lorie Judd was a friend from college. We met freshman year when we lived in the same dorm, while attending Arizona State University. She happened to study forensic science and turned out to be an excellent connection to have in my line of work.
She was the furthest thing from a rule follower and had no issues using the labs for an entirely personal request like pulling fingerprints from a wine glass that I pilfered from a bar. Lorie didn’t even bother to ask me why.
“You’re sure this is okay? It won’t get you into any trouble?” I asked.
Lorie did her version of an eye roll. “We do this stuff all the time. What’s one more set of fingerprints?” Lorie said while pulling on a pair of latex gloves.
Daisy looked at me, making her eyes wide. I smiled back at her smugly.
To Lorie, I said, “I really appreciate you doing this favor for me.”
Lorie reached into the zip-lock bag and carefully pulled out the wine glass. She then placed it into a more official looking clear plastic bag that she had written on earlier.
“How soon will you have something for me?” I asked.
If the prints are clear, I’ll have something for you this time tomorrow. If not, it can take several days and still come back empty.” She peeled off the gloves and threw them into the trash.
“Where did you say this came from?”
I looked nervously at Daisy. “I didn’t.”
Lorie smiled at me. “Well, if this is someone who has been fingerprinted, you’ll have a name. If not, you’ll just have a fingerprint that won’t tell you anything new.”
“Actually, if the print isn’t in the system, that will tell me something useful as well. So, anything you can give me will be great. Thanks again, Lorie,” I said, handing her an envelope. It contained two tickets to a Phoenix Suns game with a VIP pass. I was given a few perks to utilize at my discretion. This seemed like a good trade.
“No problem,” Lorie said, taking the envelope. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Parker.”
IT WAS A LONG QUIET drive north to Flagstaff. Daisy liked to play her music loud, and since she was driving, I just went with it. Her favorite driving tunes consisted of the seventies and eighties rock.
I’d be hearing AC/DC’s catchy tune “Back in Black” blaring in my head for days. I felt a bit guilty for not telling my parents that I was in Phoenix. I hadn't been to see them for over two months. And it wasn’t like Flagstaff and Phoenix were all that far apart.
I didn’t think Daisy would want to be dragged to the home I grew up in, and then sucked into staying for dinner. There was no such thing as a quick visit with my family.
The trip had wiped out the entire afternoon, being just over two hours’ drive each way. It was after dark when Daisy pulled up in front of my house. “Thanks for going with me, even though it’s most likely a waste of time,” I admitted.
Daisy stayed in the car with the engine running. “No problem. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, pushing the button to raise the window before driving away. She was a good sport and a good friend.
I went into my house and dropped my briefcase and coat on the living room chair, kicked off my heels, and went into the kitchen. My cell phone automatically synced with a small speaker that sat on the kitchen table. A pre-programmed station played classical music. I flipped on lights as I walked into the kitchen.
I carried a soda and a piece of cold pizza from the fridge to the dining table. After eating half the pizza, I pulled my laptop from my briefcase and opened it on the table. Since I didn’t have a desk, the kitchen table served dual purposes. It was typically scattered with papers and leftover dishes.
House cleaning wasn’t one of my strengths. I promised myself that a housekeeper would be one of the first things I did once I landed a good enough job and I had some expendable income.
I’d been searching the web for Liam McKenzie and still hadn’t found anything. Why had I even bothered? He didn’t like me, that much was obvious. But boy, had that man crawled into my head. I was thankful that I had something else to work on. My next search was for exsanguination and its possible causes.
I called the sheriff’s cell phone—I had him on speed dial. When he didn’t answer, I left a message.
“Hi, it’s Jessica Parker. A little bird told me that the deaths were ruled a homicide, and I’d like to get a statement from your department before I run an update to the story. Please call me back tonight or tomorrow morning. Thank you.”
None of the search results seemed appropriate for the campers’ cause of death or lack of blood. All the search results could still account for the missing blood.
Without knowing why, I typed the word Vampire into the Google search bar, then started laughing. Keep it professional, Jess.
I checked the time on the computer to see if I’d missed the nine o’clock news. I hadn’t. It was 8:52, so I still had time.
There was a knock at the front door, which was odd for this time of night. I’d met few people since moving to Flagstaff, and because I worked constantly, I hadn’t met any of my neighbors. As I thought about it, this was the first time anyone had knocked at my door, besides the technician who set up my internet seven months ago and Daisy.
Maybe for that reason alone, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. That and the silly fact I’d typed Vampire into a search engine and already had some classic horror pictures on m
y laptop screen.
I took a quick sip of wine, grabbed my pepper spray from my purse and made sure it was in the ON position. There was no spyglass in the door because the house I rented was at least seventy years old, and looked like it had never been replaced.
I looked out the front window but didn’t spot any unfamiliar cars. My curiosity got the best of me and I opened the door, instantly regretting my decision.
The man from the bar stood on my front porch. It was all I could do not to slam the door in his face. He was even more striking up close, which still did nothing to calm my racing heart. What was he doing at my house?
“Yes?” I asked, afraid to say much more and let him know how much his appearance had rattled me.
“Jessica Parker.” The way he said my name was like a physical caress over my skin. I had to force down a shiver. All my warning bells were sounding, but the reporter in me was beyond curious why he was here. That was what killed the cat, wasn’t it?
Suddenly, my wits seemed to show up, along with some attitude. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours or why you’re at my home.” I think my fear made my words sound even ruder than I’d meant them to.
The look in his eyes did not match the tone of his words. “Forgive me. My name is Lorenzo, and I came to apologize if my behavior offended you the other evening. It was not my intention, I assure you.”
My pepper spray was hidden behind the door. “How do you know where to find me?”
He smiled then, and it was the most predatory look I’d ever seen. “Bradley, the intern at KUTV, was kind enough to share your address with me when I told him why I needed it. I hope you don’t mind.”
If he had mentioned anyone at the station beside Bradley, I wouldn’t have believed him. Nobody at work would have shared my private address without my permission, except maybe Bradley, our eighteen-year-old intern.
Bradley was a hard worker, and way too sweet for the profession he aspired to. He was also naïve and extremely gullible—even more reasons he’d chosen poorly for his career. News reporters were none of those.
I rolled my eyes without thinking. “Bradley shouldn’t have given out my address, and a phone call would have been more appropriate.” I made certain that he could detect my annoyance.
“I must apologize. I’ve upset you again,” Lorenzo said. His slight accent was at times difficult to detect at all. I suspected he’d spent more of his life in America than he had in the country he’d acquired the accent.
“Fine, apology accepted. Good night, Lorenzo.” I started to close the door, but a highly polished boot blocked it. I looked from his boot up into his multifaceted blue eyes and just stared. That would have been a good time to use the pepper spray, but instead, I found that I couldn’t stop looking into his eyes.
“I’d like to take you to dinner to make up for my rude behavior toward your...friends. Will you allow me?” he asked, leaning toward me.
Normally, this is where my fight or flight mode might engage. Normally, this is where I’d seriously consider using the pepper spray that hung limply in my hand. Normally, I’d find everything about this situation to be weird and profoundly creepy.
Normally.
Instead, my mouth warred with my will. I wanted to tell him to take his scary-self off my rented property. What I actually said—and this was a battle of epic proportions—was, “No.”
Not, get lost, go screw yourself...just no. That was the only thought I could get to reach my almost useless lips. I was surprised I managed that much. My mind was screaming at me to say yes. It was the weirdest thing. It felt like I wanted to do anything he asked of me—which, somewhere deep in my mind I knew I didn’t want to do.
I was surprised, but so was he. His perfectly shaped dark brows came together in concentration as he continued to hold my gaze captive.
“I must insist” he said firmly. Gone was the friendly pretense.
Again, it was like a battle raging inside me. I knew I needed to say no, but I desperately wanted to say yes. Like, wanted it bad.
“No,” was all I could say, and it came out like a soft whisper, or maybe a whimper. We stood there, staring at one another. That was the last thing I remembered before I found myself staring at an empty porch.
I looked around at the dark yard and wondered if I’d imagined the entire thing. Then I looked at the pepper spray in my hand and down at the clothes I was still wearing. Shaking my head to clear it, I locked the door and walked back to my computer. The screen saver was bouncing smiley-faces all over the screen, which was odd.
My screen-saver was set to start after an hour of no activity on the computer. I looked at the clock on the screen and gasped. It was ten o’clock. I checked the clock on the microwave just to be sure. Sure enough, I’d somehow, lost an hour of time.
11
I had the strangest dreams that night. It occurred to me that I could have had some sort of psychological episode brought on by stress, or heaven forbid, a brain tumor. Those were the restless thoughts floating around my mind when I finally did manage to fall asleep.
The entire night I dreamed of Lorenzo’s eyes that could make me do anything he wanted me to. But there was another element that made no sense at all. An unusually large wolf with tan fur and glowing amber eyes kept appearing. And then it was the wolf’s eyes that watched me.
By the end of each seemingly random dream, Liam was the one kissing me. That was the only good thing I remembered. Why couldn’t all the dreams have starred the sexy fire captain? In my dreams, he wasn’t the sort of a jerk who blew hot and then cold.
I awoke that morning, not entirely sure if some or all of the previous evening was real or part of an elaborate dream. When Daisy picked me up for work, I didn’t mention my strange night. What could I say that didn’t make me sound crazy? I felt strongly that Lorenzo came to my house. That was too clear not to have happened. It was what I couldn’t remember that worried me.
Daisy handed me a coffee from our favorite local roaster, and I smiled my gratitude at her as I reverently curled my hands around the paper cup.
I didn’t want to worry Daisy. For all her efforts at feigning a laid-back Flagstaff attitude, she had a tendency to be a worrier. She offered me three different holistic remedies whenever I complained of a headache.
I had a drawer full of special teas, supplements, and dried herbs she’d given me over the last six months. I always thanked her then secretly popped a Tylenol. Daisy meant well.
“You don’t look like you slept a wink. Maybe you should put some concealer under your eyes before we film your segment this morning,” Daisy said, stealing a glance at me.
“Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically.
“Sorry. I was strictly speaking to your professional side. You know, from the other side of the lens,” she said, smirking.
“I know. I didn’t sleep well last night,” I said, already lowering the vanity mirror on the passenger side. I pulled a thick makeup pencil from my bag and dabbed concealer over my dark-ringed eyes.
“Better?” I asked, turning toward her.
If you were a professional who worked in front of a camera at a moment’s notice, there were certain essentials that you carried at all times. One was a small stash of makeup, and two was a hair-tie for windy weather or bad hair days. I kept a dress jacket hanging in my cubicle and another in my car that I could throw over just about any top and be camera ready from the waist up in under three minutes. Tricks of the trade.
She glanced at me. “Sure.” Daisy didn’t sound convincing, but I was too tired to care this morning. Too many thoughts going through my sleepy brain.
THE SHERIFF RETURNED my call shortly after I arrived at the station.
“Ms. Parker, I don’t know where you received your information about the victims, but that is not the official statement from the department. This matter is still under investigation.” The sheriff’s voice kept breaking up, but I could tell he wasn’t happy with me.
“My s
ources are solid. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to make an official statement?” I asked. Sometimes the authorities liked to sit on information longer than necessary. A bit of prompting went a long way to move the process along.
There was a long silence on the phone, and I started to wonder if we’d been cut off before he spoke. “We do not have an official statement at this time, and I would encourage you not to spark fear within the community by reporting carelessly.”
It was the sheriff’s turn to try to get under my skin. I was ready for it. “Sheriff, you and I both know this was not accidental or natural. That means this is a double homicide. Unless you can give me a good reason why I shouldn’t warn the public that there is potentially a predator walking among us, then I’m running the story.”
Again, silence.
“You do what you feel is right. I’ll do what I know is right. Good day, Ms. Parker,” he said before the line went dead.
Okay, his last jab did get to me a bit. But I knew that as a citizen in this community, I’d want to know. It was my responsibility to inform the community, especially about something so important.
Also, the campers deserved to have their story told, and I was the person to get it done. There was some guilt on my part that this story could get me the recognition needed to land me a better job in a bigger city. That was my number one goal, but every time I thought about it, I felt unsatisfied. The thought of moving away and never seeing Liam again added to my troubled thoughts. He didn’t like me and I knew nothing about the man, so it shouldn’t have been a consideration.
Surprisingly, Flagstaff had grown on me. I’d started hiking once a week with Daisy. It was a beautiful place to live, and I recognized the appeal. But, I’d been planning my dream job since high school, and Flagstaff didn’t fit the image I’d come up with.
Painting helped me cope with negative feelings whenever I’d get stressed while focusing on my goals and plans. But sometimes I wondered if they were really my goals.