by Kendra Ashe
It wasn’t until then that I fully understood how serious my predicament was. How smart would it be to turn down a vampire?
Now that I knew the truth, could they really just let me walk away?
“This Shadow Valley sounds like the Garden of Eden for vampires,” I sighed. “You know utopian societies are never as good as they sound, and that’s even if it exists.”
“Can we afford to ignore the possibility?” Wren said before downing the rest of his coffee.
“I’ll think about it,” I told him. “If I talk to Mason, it will be to get help with a homicide investigation. I don’t think it’s a good idea to needle him about some utopia for vampires that might not exist.”
“You mentioned a call from someone with a foreign accent,” Wren reminded me.
“Yes.” I nodded. “He said he would call back.”
“I’ve already talked to this person once. He is the only one I know of to have first-hand knowledge of Shadow Valley.”
In spite of that little voice in my head urging me to run the other way, I was fascinated. What if all this was true? What if I could not only help find a killer but help Wren find peace?
I was officially intrigued.
Chapter Nine
The cheery jazz tune burrowed its way into my sleep-fogged brain. It took a few minutes before I fully understood that what I was hearing was my phone alarm. I almost never slept late enough for the alarm to wake me.
It had to be at least noon.
I was exhausted. Last night still felt like some kind of wacky dream. Actually, a bizarre nightmare would be more accurate.
Before Lynn’s death, Wren had never asked me to come in before midday. Now that I was the only Dark Side employee who wasn’t a vampire, going into the office early would become routine. Too bad I’d overlooked changing the alarm on my phone when I received my new job title.
I was supposed to go in before Wren and take care of any footwork that had to be done during the day. His strange habit of not coming into the office until the evening made a lot more sense now.
The whole vampire thing was just starting to sink in.
Forcing myself to get out of bed was hell. With my eyes half-closed, I made my way to the bathroom to wash my face. When I was this groggy, cold water was the only thing that helped.
I’d just buried my face in a towel when I heard the knock at my door. No one ever came to visit, mostly because I was either at work or sleeping. The only visitor I ever got was Miss Avalon, my elderly neighbor from next-door. That had to be who it was.
My friends from high school were either married or too caught up in their own lives to bother. Not that I had any room to bitch. I was also caught up in my own problems. There never seemed to be time to socialize or even date.
Tossing the towel in the hamper, I went into the small living room to answer the door, but before I could get to it, there was another knock.
Hopefully, it was only Miss Avalon. She wouldn’t care if I answered the door in my pink cupcake pajamas.
I cracked the door and sure enough, Miss Avalon was standing in the covered walkway, holding a pot of something. She had a green oven mitt on each hand.
I liked Miss Avalon. I imagined that if I’d known my grandparents, they might have been something like her. She had her gray hair pulled back in a bun and was dressed much the same as she was every day, in a flower print housecoat.
“Hello,” I said, opening the door.
“Oh, Pumpkin, I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said, with a casual, I’m not going to worry too much about it if I did, smile.
Vena Avalon was an angel, but I wasn’t too fond of the nickname she’d given me.
“No, I just haven’t had a chance to get dressed yet. Come in.”
“As usual, I made too much gumbo last night. I thought you could use it on account of you always being too busy to cook.” She’d already deposited the pot on my stove.
“Thanks. It smells delicious.” I wasn’t just being nice. Miss Avalon did make some yummy gumbo.
“You know, I have to be straight about stuff when need be,” she said as she was settling into one of the kitchen chairs. “I have another reason for dropping by.”
“What’s that?” I asked as I put on some coffee.
“Brewster got real fidgety last night. He kept pacing the floor and looking at the wall,” she said, pointing to the wall that separated our apartments.
Brewster was her cat, but the way she carried on about him, one might think he was a real person.
“He did?” I asked, playing along.
“Yep.” She nodded. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off the wall. He was burning a hole right through it.”
It occurred to me that maybe the cat had heard someone in my apartment, but I quickly dismissed the idea. My experience with Wren and Mason had me paranoid.
“Well, I hope he didn’t upset you too much,” I told her as I filled two mugs with coffee.
I inhaled deeply; hoping the aroma would get me going. Coffee was my fuel and I was running on empty. Hell, I didn’t even have any fumes.
“Thank you,” she said when I set the mug on the table in front of her. “No.” Miss Avalon shook her head. “I wasn’t upset, but I was a little nervous. I didn’t know what to think. When you’re gone, there’s no telling what you’re up to.”
The note of disapproval in her voice wasn’t anything new. Miss Avalon thought I was crazy to work for a private investigator. She was of the opinion that a woman’s place was in the home and that I should be out looking for a husband.
I thought it better not to go into what I’d been up to, so I changed the subject. “I hear it’s supposed to rain.”
“We’ll get a downpour and then it will clear up,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Now about last night. On account of Brewster having such an uncanny ability to tell when something’s wrong, I decided I better read your cards.”
Oh no! Not the cards again, I moaned inwardly.
For some reason, Miss Avalon had taken it as her duty to read my cards at least once a week.
“And?” I asked, still playing along.
“And, I saw some dark clouds ahead for you, Pumpkin. Your heart is slowly slipping away, but the one you give it to will be dangerous. I just wanted to tell you so you can be on the lookout for anyone like that.”
Maybe she really could read the future with her cards.
I dismissed the idea immediately. It had to be a coincidence. Besides, why did her warning bring up images of Mason Romero? It wasn’t as if he meant anything to me.
Draining her cup, Miss Avalon got to her feet. “You can just bring the pan back when you’re done. I have to get Brewster his lunch. He gets so fussy if he doesn’t eat on time.”
“Thanks for the gumbo, and the warning,” I added.
“Mind what I tell you. Be careful,” she said as she was leaving.
After rinsing the cups, I placed them in the sink and headed for my bedroom.
I wasn’t sure what to wear.
If I decided to do what Wren wanted, I would need something a lot sexier than jeans and a t-shirt. My eyes fell on the black cocktail dress that hung in my closet. It was the same dress I’d worn to my senior prom. Although it was a little outdated, it would work.
All Wren wanted was for me to go to the Underground and use a little female persuasion to convince Mason. It wouldn’t be too difficult. I would just ask some questions and hopefully give us a lead on any rogue vampires.
“Just don’t look into his eyes and don’t let him seduce you.” Wren’s words echoed through my head.
I had to be crazy to even consider doing this. One of two things was going on. Either they were both lunatics, or I would be flirting with a vampire. In either case, getting involved in their world couldn’t be a good thing.
But the thought of seeing Mason again gave me butterflies.
This must be what a love-hate relationship was like. Mason did fascinate me, but at
the same time, he scared the hell out of me.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. It was Wren, probably wondering where I was.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Did you sleep late?” he asked.
“Kind of. Sorry. I’ll be in soon.”
“Don’t worry about it. I need you to go over to St. Louis No. 1. They found another victim near the voodoo crypt. This time there are two victims. They also found a burned body. I’m thinking the second victim could be a vampire.”
By voodoo crypt, he meant Morgana’s crypt. Everyone knew about Morgana. Local legend had it that if you left an offering at her grave, she’d work a hex for you from the other side.
I knew where her grave was located, though I’d never been there. My mother raised a total wussy so I’d always steered clear of anything that dark.
When I was in high school, my friends would get together and sneak into the cemetery after dark to leave offerings for Morgana. Not me. I’d just as soon stay home and watch TV. I figured it was safer.
My aversion to unnecessary risk was the reason my mother was baffled when I told her I’d decided to work for a private detective. She thought I was nuts, but Mom and I hadn’t been on good terms in quite awhile.
On the bright side, she was extremely relieved that I wouldn’t find myself in the middle of an armed robbery again. I don’t think she’d counted on the fact that I might be chasing down leads in homicide investigations.
“Okay. I just need to get dressed,” I told him.
“I’ll let Detective Landry know you’ll be on your way. He’ll meet you at the cemetery entrance. They have it blocked off to the public.”
“I don’t have the camera,” I reminded him.
“You can use your phone camera. That should work.”
I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having photos of corpses on my phone on account of the bad juju that might come along with those pictures.
Ending the call, I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt before heading out. I was tempted to walk since I didn’t live too far from St. Louis No. 1 but decided against it. Walking would take a lot longer and Landry might get sick of waiting for me.
Driving didn’t do me a lot of good. I still had to park over a block away and push my way through a crowd to get to the cemetery entrance.
Landry was waiting for me. I didn’t know the detective well but he seemed like a nice guy. The lines around his eyes and graying black hair spoke of the years of crime scenes and bad guys he’d dealt with.
Landry was a good cop but he was anxious for retirement. I couldn’t blame him. The horrors he had to face on a daily basis had to take a toll.
“Hi.” I gave him a timid smile. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice. “Wren Ashland asked me to meet you here.”
Nodding, Landry motioned for me to follow him into the cemetery. The St. Louis Cemetery had even more tombs than the Lafayette Cemetery. The internments were crowded together so close that in some places there was only a narrow walkway between the rows of tombs.
“We’ve identified the first victim as Ronald Hayward. He’s a local drug dealer and gang member with a habit of using the cemetery to make his transactions,” Landry informed me.
“Is the M.O the same as the others?” I asked.
“It is.” He nodded. “I’m sure the medical examiner will find that there isn’t a drop of blood left in him,” Landry said, pointing to a body tucked between two tombs. One of those tombs was Morgana’s.
“I guess he finally met the wrong person in the cemetery,” Landry said, a frown twisting at his mouth.
“What else do you know about him?”
“Not much.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Hayward was a self-proclaimed voodoo king, which would explain why he was at this particular tomb.”
Reluctantly, I snapped a few pictures before turning back to the detective. “Do you have the time of death?”
“The M.E. places the time of death at about 2:00 this morning,” he informed me.
“Wren mentioned that the other victim might have a different M.O.”
“Yep. This was pretty darn weird. The body is over here,” he said as he led me to another row of tombs.
Gasping, I averted my eyes when I saw the scorched corpse curled into a ball at the foot of a tomb. The cause of death with this one was pretty obvious. It looked as if someone had poured gasoline on him and set him on fire.
“What do you think happened here?” I asked, not quite sure I wanted to get pictures of the grotesque scene.
Landry looked around to make sure no one was nearby before whispering. “I think this is probably the vampire that killed Ronald over there, and then someone did him in. Maybe they used a UV gun.
“A UV gun. I’ve never even heard of those.”
“Believe me, they exist.”
“Or maybe Morgana came out of her grave to avenge Ronald Hayward’s death,” I suggested, only half kidding. After all, the ghost of such a powerful witch could cause a vampire to spontaneously combust. At least, I imagined something like that might be possible.
Landry rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Remember, Detective, we’re talking about someone killing a vampire. That scenario is pretty ridiculous too.”
“Well, since you put it like that. I guess anything is possible.” He shrugged.
Chapter Ten
I carried Miss. Avalon’s pot of gumbo into the office and placed it in the small kitchen we used for breaks. Although I’d lost my appetite, I figured Wren might want something to eat when he finally made it into work. Hopefully, gumbo might discourage my boss from eating me.
What would happen if he ever did turn on me?
That was a scary thought.
Grabbing a root beer from the refrigerator, I started toward my desk but stopped when I saw, Marie. She was sitting on my desk, waiting for me.
“Slow today, are we?” Marie said, her blood-red lips twisting into a scowl.
“Don’t they have clothes in the afterlife?” I asked, in no mood to deal with the half-naked ghost perched on my desk. “Maybe you should change into something more appropriate to a work environment.”
Somewhat startled by the question, Marie looked down at her corset. “I don’t know. I never thought about it.”
“I guess it’s a good thing that I’m the only one who can see your stuff.”
Either Marie didn’t much care about her lack of proper clothing or she was ready to move on. Within seconds, she was back to her usual glare.
“Did you talk to a priest yet about a funeral? What about tools to tear out this wall?”
Plugging my phone into the computer’s USB port, I started downloading the photos from my phone. “Wren promised to get to it and he will. Right now, we have a vampire serial killer on the loose.”
“Eww.” Marie made a funny face. “I’d hate to be on that side of the veil. No one is safe with a vampire haunting the streets.”
“What do you know about vampires?” Now she had my attention.
“Nothing. I know they are monsters with a capital M.”
“Have you ever met a real vampire?” I asked.
“There’s Mr. Ashland. I told you he had secrets,” Marie pointed out.
“You were right about that, but did you ever meet one while you were alive? Do they really bite people and suck their blood?”
“I don’t know.” Marie lifted her bare shoulders. “It’s hard to tell the difference between monsters and the scoundrels I had to entertain.”
She probably had a point. Maybe there wasn’t all that much difference.
It took some work, but I finally talked Marie into taking her haunting next door for a few hours so I could get some work done.
After transcribing my notes, I placed them into a file on Wren’s computer, along with the photos.
A few minutes after sunset, Wren strolled into the office. “What did you learn from Dete
ctive Landry?”
“I learned that the human victim was known as the neighborhood voodoo king and that the vampire was burned to death. What could have done that to a vampire, other than the sun or a UV gun? What human would even dare go up against a killer vampire?”
“I doubt they were human,” he said as he was opening the computer file to view the pictures.
“Is that gumbo I smell?" he asked.
“It is. It’s my neighbor's leftovers. I thought I’d bring it into the office.”
My boss quietly studied my notes.
“Who do you think did this?” I asked.
“Hard to tell.” Wren shrugged. “It could have been someone out to stop a killer vampire or he encountered a vampire that was meaner than him.”
“So, does this mean our serial killer vampire problem is solved?” I asked as I was heading back to the kitchen to dish us up some gumbo.
“Maybe.” I heard him say from the other room. “Or it could be that’s what the killer wants us to think.”
Returning to the front office, I set Wren’s gumbo on his desk. “Who would be trying to fool us into thinking it’s over? We'd know it wasn’t as soon as there was another murder.”
“Yeah, that doesn't make sense. It could just be some kind of vendetta killing.” Wren put a spoonful of gumbo in his mouth and started gagging.
Alarmed, I jumped up to help. “What’s wrong? Are you choking?”
Wren spit the gumbo out and ran to the bathroom.
Well, this was embarrassing. Could the gumbo have spoiled in such a short time?
When Wren returned he was patting his flushed face with a wet paper towel.
“I'm sorry. I didn't realize the gumbo was bad,” I told him.
Wren shook his head. “It isn’t spoiled. I tasted vervain in it. Vervain is like poisonous acid to a vampire. If a human consumes vervain, it protects them from being fed on by vampires. It will also protect you from being compelled. I think your neighbor must know something about vampires.”
I was stunned into silence. Apparently, Miss Avalon knew something about vampires in the city.