Shadows of Deceit (A Series of Shadows)

by Mell Corcoran

  “What?” Was all he could say.

  “Mr. Taylor, the house was Angela Boone’s beach house, the one we mentioned earlier. We believe the other body is hers.” Dillon measured Taylor’s reaction.

  “What?” He looked at Dillon and squinted, struggling to process what was being told to him.

  “They were found in bed, in the master bedroom.” Dillon purposely omitted the fact that the three heads were in the bed with them.

  “That’s impossible!” Taylor exclaimed. “There is no way he would have been in her bed willingly! He hated her for what she had done!”

  “Mr. Taylor there is more you need to know.” Lou patted his hand. “We’ve uncovered evidence that Angela Boone was not who she said she was.”

  “Well I could have told you that! He scoffed, snapping out of his stupor when he heard something that he could process. “She was a fake two dollar whore!”

  “No, I mean her name was not Angela Boone.” Lou clarified. “We are trying to figure out who this woman really was but everything we’ve uncovered tells us that the Angela Boone identity was created only five years ago. The woman did not exist before then.”

  “Are you serious?” He was squinting again.

  “We are very serious.” Dillon assured him.

  “Do you happen to remember the address of her apartment in Studio City?” Lou asked.

  “What?” He looked at her as if he hadn’t heard what she asked him but then realized he had. “Oh, yeah. Let me look it up for you.” He fiddled with his phone again then showed Lou the entry.

  “Thank you Mr. Taylor.” She knew this was hitting him very hard but wanted to get what they could out of him before the shock wore off and he turned to weeping. “Did you ever meet any of her family or friends?”

  “No, never.” He was looking around the room, dazed. “Has anyone told his mother or his sister?”

  “Not yet.” Dillon spoke up. “We only just got confirmation from the medical examiner. You are the first to know, but we need your help.”

  “Sure...” Taylor was still stunned. “Let me tell the family, please?” He asked them in earnest.

  “I’m not sure that would be appropriate, Mr. Taylor.” Lou felt that was her job.

  “Please! They have been through so much! First Luis, now Casius.” Taylor’s eyes started welling. “I truly love that family. Please let me tell them so I can do it with the dignity Casius deserves.”

  Lou understood where he was coming from and she admired his loyalty. The poor guy had practically been glued to Casius’ hip for the past five years so he deserved some consideration. “As you wish.” She relented. “But not just yet. I know it seems cruel but we are trying to catch a murderer so we need to keep this under wraps for a day or so longer. You understand?”

  “Of course I do!” Though tears were involuntarily falling from his eyes, he straightened himself and sat at attention. “What else can I do to help? Let me help! I want you to nail the son of a bitch that did this!”

  “We appreciate your cooperation so much.” Lou smiled at him. “We believe whoever Angela Boone was, she had been targeting Casius for a while. We think she knew whoever murdered them as well as the three men at Casius’ house.”

  “I never met anyone she knew.” He tried to think. “She said she was an orphan.” He snorted. “To be perfectly honest, that was the only thing that kept me from bitch slapping her. I would always go back to her misfortune and that she just didn’t know better. What a crock.”

  “Well, we don’t know.” Dillon noted. “It may be the only thing she ever told the truth about.”

  “Maybe.” Taylor grimaced. “That would be really sad.”

  “Did she ever say what orphanage she was in? Was there anything specifically odd that stood out about her? Lou leaned in toward him. “Anything that sticks in your mind, that said Hmm, that’s weird or appeared off at the time?”

  “She never said which orphanage, I would have remembered that.” He shook his head and thought for a long moment. “You know there is one thing but I don’t know if it’s really a thing.”

  “It may not be but it can’t hurt to tell us.” Dillon assured him.

  “Well, I had to become fluent in Spanish when I started working here and when I got the job in Colombia it was an absolute must.” He rubbed his forehead as if it helped his recollection. “People made fun of my accent endlessly and it was so embarrassing. Over time I got better but I learned that unless it’s your native tongue, there will always be a hint of an accent. I sort of made a game of it, listening to how different people speak. Anyway, I remember when Casius brought her to the Fourth of July picnic, he introduced her to his associates that came in from Columbia for the party. When Angela greeted them and spoke in Spanish, she spoke flawlessly.”

  “Flawlessly?” Lou asked him to clarify.

  “I mean, that woman, who looked like a white bread trailer trash pageant winner from Arkansas spoke Spanish as well as Casius did.” He pursed his lips. “To this day I remember what I thought when I heard her.”

  “Care to share?” Dillon smiled.

  “They say it’s not polite to speak ill of the dead but I’ve pretty much blown that all to hell, right?” Taylor grinned at them. “I thought, this chica is playing wanna be socialite white girl but she is just a homegirl hoochie mamacita from the hood digging for gold in Casius’ pockets. And I was right wasn’t I?”

  “Well, we haven’t gotten an ID on her yet.” Dillon told him. “So we really can’t speculate.”

  “She did have extensive plastic surgery done though.” Lou told him, wanting his take on her body work. “You know anything of that?”

  “Well she had the worst boob job in the history of boob jobs!” Taylor snorted. “They were so in your face and she wore crap that made them stand out even more! I swear you could stuff two cantaloupes down my shirt and they would look better than hers did. I don’t know how the woman swallowed, those things were jacked up so high. They almost hit her chin.”

  Dillon couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me.” He apologized.

  “No it was not!” Taylor insisted. “Wait, I kept one picture just because my friends didn’t believe me.” He started fiddling with his phone again. “Here! Tell me I am exaggerating.”

  He turned the screen so they could see the picture of Casius and Angela arm in arm on a beach holding cocktails. Casius was wearing board shorts and Angela was wearing the smallest bikini Lou had ever seen. The two piece, hot pink garment was at best a total of one square foot of fabric. The top was made up of string and two triangles that were the size of Doritos corn chips. Lou couldn’t stop staring it was so fascinating. The woman’s breasts were enormous and were positioned so they started at approximately two inches from her collar bone. It literally looked like someone had taken two shiny, flesh colored orbs the size of cantaloupes and stuck them to her upper chest.

  “Dear God!” Dillon didn’t mean to blurt it out but Lou understood completely.

  “I told you!” Taylor nodded. “Ridiculous. I wanted the name of the doctor just so I could tell everyone to stay away from him!”

  “Did you ask her?” Lou didn’t expect so.

  “No. I may be a bitch but I still have some class.” He set his phone back down on the table. “With a boob job that bad, it doesn’t surprise me she had other work done. She was fake to the core.”

  “She was indeed.” Dillon agreed.

  “Was there anyone she didn’t get along with in Casius’ circle? Or someone she avoided perhaps?” Lou was getting to the bottom of her list of questions and was trying to exhaust Taylor as the information font he had become.

  “As I said before, everyone could see she was trash except Casius. No one would ever say anything though. I know that none of the top guys liked her either.” Taylor thought about the question for a moment before he continued. “She really didn’t hang out much with the work people when they were around. She sch
moozed the wives and all but they tolerated her just enough to be politically correct. I know Maria and Estella hated her but they are too classy to behave inappropriately. Plus, they love Casius so they wouldn’t upset him. Other than that one confrontation Maria had here, that’s all I can come up with.” The tears started again. “Who the hell was she?”

  “We are trying to find that out Mr. Taylor.” Lou assured him once again. “As soon as we do know, we will let you know.”

  There was really nothing more they could think of to ask the man. He had given them a ton of insight into Casius and the fake Angela Boone that they really needed. The apartment in Studio City and the garage in Long Beach were huge leads and the extreme way Taylor described Angela’s tackiness gave Lou a very good picture. Someone had tried to turn the urchin into a lady and had fallen very short of the mark.

  “What do I do now?” Taylor asked them.

  “You go about your business as usual. Just for another day, like Casius is only missing.” Lou instructed him.

  “Is there any way you can take a sick day considering everything that’s going on?” Dillon asked.

  “Yeah, I guess that would be something they would expect. I have been freaking out.” Taylor snorted. “My over-efficient work ethic annoys everyone but Casius.”

  “Then I would call in before you leave. Let them know you need a mental health day or something.” Lou agreed with Dillon on this. Taylor was fragile and might blow it if someone crossed him the wrong way. “You and Jeremy take the day together and just stay in bed watching cartoons or something.” She smiled softly at him when he grinned.

  “We do that you know!” That cheered him up a little. “That is exactly what we are going to do. I’ll stop and get ice cream and stuff to make pancakes.”

  “That sounds like a perfect plan.” Lou stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry for your loss Mr. Taylor.”

  “Please, call me Peter.” He smiled at her. “After all this we really aren’t strangers any more, right?”

  “Right.” That made Lou’s heart break for some inexplicable reason.

  When Peter Taylor stood up he leaned down and gave Lou a hug. “Thank you for being so kind. I know you really don’t have to be.”

  “I am just doing my job.” Lou wanted to cry.

  “No, you’ve gone above and beyond and I appreciate it.” He looked at Dillon. “You, well you’re cute so you don’t have to be nice.” He winked at him and Dillon blushed. “Oh honey you are definitely not from L.A.” Taylor chuckled as Lou opened the door for him.

  “No, he’s not.” Lou’s urge to cry was staved off by Taylor’s humor and Dillon’s embarrassment.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Dillon said as he got up from his chair and composed himself. “Let me walk you out Mr. Taylor.”

  “You can call me Peter too.” He smiled and followed Dillon out the door.

  Lou walked out of the interview room and met Vinny in the hall. They waited until Dillon had vanished around the corner with Peter Taylor before either of them spoke.

  “I got a couple guys running down both addresses.” He informed her. “I don’t think we’re going to have enough time to run them both down and make it back in time for the experiment.”

  “We can do that tomorrow.” Lou told him. “Not like anyone is missing anymore.”

  “True, but a killer is still on the loose.” He reminded her.

  “I think our killer is too arrogant to take off. He won’t think we have anything to track back to him.” At least she hoped. “We have a little time I think.”

  Exactly how the Sanguinostri came to exist will forever be a mystery. No one can say for certain, but it is presumed what happened to the inhabitants of a small village thousands of years ago was the result of a meteor crash, or the fires that followed. The physiological changes could have been triggered by some sort of radiation poisoning, inhalation of toxic smoke or foreign vapor, or perhaps a combination of both. No one truly knows. What is known is that while some survived the changes that ensued, some did not. They discovered by pure chance that blood was what saved them. The drinking of blood, to be specific. After a horrific period of growing pains, those who survived renamed themselves, created a code of conduct and set fourth absolute laws that each vowed to uphold with their very lives. As they came to understand and accept the changes that took place, one thing was absolutely certain from very early on. Their existence, their unique abilities, their extreme longevity, all of it must be kept secret at all costs.

  Over the years, and with the evolution of technology, they tried to study themselves to pin down what happened. Even with the most cutting edge science, Sanguinostri blood remains a mystery. Once the blood leaves the body it has some sort of self-destruct mechanism that renders it impossible to analyze in any way. This is both a blessing and a curse. It makes it extremely difficult for a normal person to be infected or turned, but it also prevents them from finding a way to reverse the process.

  The initial word that would come to mind was “vampire” but that was, and is, not accurate. The word and folklore surrounding it was created by frightened, ignorant people. All the books and movies are pretty much crap. Sanguinostri do, in fact, need to ingest blood to survive but they also eat and drink like everyone else. They have no aversion to sunlight and sleep in beds like normal people. They are not, strictly speaking, immortal and can be killed. Severing a Sanguinostri head and keeping it away from the rest of the body being the most effective method. Sanguinostri metabolisms are very different. There is rapid cellular regeneration which enables severed limbs, fingers and the like to be reattached if held in place long enough for the tissue to re-root, so to speak. While regeneration is extremely rapid, conversely, there is ultra-slow aging. It had been explained to Lou as being like dog age, but in reverse and to a greater extent. It would take roughly two hundred human years to age a single Sanguinostri year. Thus the reason for Max looking like he is only in his late thirties, early forties at best. Max had been turned just before his twenty-first birthday, nearly three thousand years ago.

  Over the millennia, Stewards have been recruited to assist the Sanguinostri. In many cases it is a long standing family tradition to become a Steward, as in Joe McAllister’s case. Being a Steward does not necessarily mean that you are automatically turned. That is a very prestigious and coveted gift to be bestowed. It is also excruciatingly painful and in many cases, deadly. The process of turning takes what is called a Lunation. There are very precise and exacting measures that must be taken and the process itself lasts twenty-eight days. There are no guarantees that a person will survive the process. Since the discovery of DNA in the late 1800’s, early 1900’s, Sanguinostri scientists have been able to devise a test to perform on an individual who faces turning. The blood is tested and a percentage can be given with relative accuracy as to whether or not they will survive. However, there is no getting around the length of the process or the pain that must be endured.

  While the Sanguinostri are highly evolved, enlightened and gifted people, as with all things there are bad apples in the bunch. In the earliest days a system was created. Blood was offered by a willing gifter and in return the Sanguinostri provided protection, safety and very often wealth and comfort. This has become the requisite course of practice and is an honored tradition. Sadly, honor is not a concept shared by all. In the beginning it was not the original elders but a few of their offspring that grew with a sense of entitlement. These few bad apples viewed humankind as inferior and no more than a commodity to be used. When the elders discovered that these individuals were abusing their gifts, keeping humans as blood slaves or recklessly stealing blood from unwilling sources, often for the sport of it, they were executed summarily. This holds true to this day. Disregard for human life is a sin for which there is no absolution.

  Over the years a record of sort has been kept of gifters. Small offertory vials are kept sealed and protected as remembrance of the honor th
ey bestow upon Sanguinostri kind by sharing their life for the preservation of the race. The Sanguinostri never forget their allies or those that protect their secrets. With the advancement of technology, many of those blood lines have been sampled and made into digitized records while the actual vials are stored in the old tradition. Not many know this, it is a well guarded secret for a myriad of reasons. Similarly, there is a record kept of those who have exploited and debased the gift. Frank was well aware of both records and this was what he had alluded to during his conversation with Caroline. Max was one of the select few permitted to access this information given his being a Dominor and member of the Senatus.

  Frank needed the Angela Boone data from Caroline in order to have Max check it against the Sanguinostri records. It was unlikely, but something was nagging at the back of his mind that had him thinking the woman might be tied to the Sanguinostri on a bad level. Perhaps it was her family, a distant cousin, whatever, but if her DNA had a thread linked to someone in the gifter database or worse, the illicit one, it was going to mean trouble.

  “You don’t look happy.” Abby announced as soon as she saw him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Frank answered.

  “Cow pies.” She plopped down next to him. “Why do you insist on going this route? You know damn well I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. Nothing is wrong.” He grumbled. “Not yet at least.”

  “OK so what do you think is going to be wrong?” Abby persisted.

  “I have a bad feeling is all.” He wasn’t sure why or what prompted it so it was ridiculous to get into.

  “A bad feeling like in the pit of your stomach or a bad feeling like you got a massive wedgie?” She smiled sweetly when he looked at her like she was insane.

  “Where do you come up with this stuff?” Frank asked and stared at the pixie with her her impish grin and flame red hair swept up into pigtails. She was a little sister to him and he adored her.