The Source

by J B Stilwell

  “She was taken there,” Rick suddenly interrupts the conversation. “She’s not from here and unfortunately was not the best judge of who she trusted.”

  I turn around as Officer Davis jerks to the side to find out who is talking. Rick is standing with his arms braced on either side of my bedroom door. Officer Davis looks slowly from Rick to me then back to Rick as if he is trying to determine what exactly is going on here in the early morning, a woman alone with a vampire.

  I can feel the air change around me and sense Officer Davis tensing. “Regardless of the circumstances surrounding the event, it’s still trespassing. ‘I didn’t know’ doesn’t work around here, especially when we’re talking about the scene of an ongoing police investigation.”

  I raise my eyebrows at Rick, and then look back at the officer.

  Looking at me Officer Davis continues, “Now, who was it that took you to the abandoned mine?”

  “His name is Tucker...”. and before I can finish Office Davis says, “Dutrieux. Tucker Dutrieux.”

  I look slowly at Rick. “Why, yes. Tucker Dutrieux.” My face crinkles in confusion as I turn back to Officer Davis. “How did you know?”

  “Not many people by the name Tucker in Rowan. Now, are you suggesting that he was the one responsible for this? Why would a grown man target you for something like this?”

  Feeling very small, my voice low I say, “Because I turned him down. He had expressed interest in me several times, and I said no.”

  Officer Davis bobs his head as he glances over me, starting at my legs, as if he’s assessing whether or not what I’m saying is plausible.

  “Well, that’s a start I guess. Was it just you and Mr. Dutrieux at the mine?”

  “No, another co-worker went with us. Abe Krishnamurthy. But he didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “Ma’am,” Officer Davis chastises me, “I’ll make those calls on who did what. What makes you think that this Abe Krishnamurthy couldn’t have left the graffiti? I mean, it sounds like he’s not from around here, so who knows what he’s capable of.”

  “Tucker’s not from around here, either. He’s originally from New York.”

  “Even though, he’s been here long enough that people know him. Unlike you, your ‘gentleman’ friend in your bedroom and this Abe Krishnamurthy.”

  Rick hesitantly but angrily steps into the room. “Which one of us are you actually investigating, Officer Davis? The person who damaged the property, or the young woman who has done absolutely nothing wrong, except for being friends with non-whites and vampires?”

  Office Davis leans to the side again, “Watch your mouth, vamp. If you don’t live here and you didn’t witness anything, then you have no involvement in this investigation whatsoever. So I suggest you clamp your fangs together before I take you down to lock up.”

  He looks back at me, “Do you have anything else that might shed light on why this happened, Miss Burcham?”

  “Tucker and I had an argument. The last time he tried to, um, gain my favor. The same day he was fired from his job at the FOHVA research facility.”

  He hooks his thumbs into his belt, “Now what would one event have to do with another?”

  “Well, while we were arguing in the park, Tucker got into a physical fight with a runner. Tucker’s face was roughed up quite a bit. Later that day we learned that he was no longer working at the facility. I really couldn’t tell you if it was because of attendance issues, showing up looking as he did or if it was a multitude of things.”

  “Uh-huh,” Officer Davis grunts. “So we have trespassing at a crime scene, assault and battery and now destruction of property.”

  Exasperated, I shrug, “I guess that sums it up.”

  He stares firmly at me before making a few notes in his notebook. “Do you mind if I take a look around and take some pictures of the graffiti in question?”

  I shake my head, “Not at all. Be my guest.” I faintly smile, feeling a thread of sarcasm swirl around the back of my throat.

  He nods, starting at me then Rick before going out to his car, presumably to get a camera.

  I take a deep breath then collapse onto the couch. Rick has moved back into my bedroom so that he’s out of the way of the direct rays coursing through the front door. Watching the front door as Officer Davis begins taking pictures and walking the perimeter outside, I slowly walk into the bedroom to sit on the bed. Rick is pacing across the room, the heavy drapes pulled tightly shut so that no light shines except from the bedside lamp.

  “I’m sorry,” he says suddenly.

  I look up at him, “For what?”

  “That you had to go through that asinine questioning that had little to do with the real issue.”

  I run both hands through my hair and rest them on top of my head. “I started to panic. Now more than ever, I don’t expect much of anything to come from any type of investigation. Sounds more like Tucker is already part of the good ‘ole boys network and even if he is guilty, he probably wouldn’t even get a slap on the wrist.” I look up at the ceiling, wondering what more could happen to completely distract us from our work. Or worse. Threaten my life or others. Hopefully this was just meant to scare me with no real intent for any violence. I don’t really believe that though, especially after seeing Tucker’s quick anger. It is possible that he could be capable of so much more.

  I hear Officer Davis moving around in the apartment so I walk back toward the front door. After looking over all of the rooms - except the bedroom - Officer Davis announces, “Alright, Miss Burcham,” saying my name, without Doctor, as if it’s beneath him to address me. The animosity is dripping from his voice. “I think that I have everything that I need to start an investigation. These types of incidents usually don’t lead to much, but we’ll keep you informed of anything we learn. I’ll just need to get your contact number.”

  Pursing my lips together I respond, “Thank you for your diligence, Officer Davis.” I get a scrap of paper and pen from the small table beside the door and write down my cell phone number, then hand it to him.

  He nods at me as he takes the paper from my hand, careful not to make contact with my fingers, almost as if I have a contagious skin disorder. Taking one last look over the apartment, he says, “Make sure to keep your door locked. And be careful of who you associate with, especially since you’re not from around here and people don’t know you.”

  With that he walks back to his car and I’m left to ponder what exactly he meant. Would people be suspicious of me because they don’t know me? Or am I an easy target because people don’t know me?

  “Is the good officer gone?” Rick calls from the bedroom.

  I lock the front door then return to my bed. “Yes, he’s gone. Not like it matters. But at least there will be a record of what happened.”

  I pull my legs up and rest my forehead on my arms, resting on my knees. Rick sits down beside me.

  “We should really get some rest. We have a big night tomorrow.”

  I look at him, eyes wide. “Where are you going to sleep?”

  “Well,” he replies, “there are really only two options. The bathroom floor or we can drape blankets over the sides of your bed and I can sleep under it.”

  “Sleep under my bed?”

  “Actually I could get by with sleeping on the floor in here. But under the bed, I’ll have extra protection from any possible sunlight. And you’ll have a little more privacy with me hidden away.”

  I scowl at him, “A little more privacy, but a lot more creepiness.” I shudder. “No offense, I don’t think I could sleep with a vampire under my bed. Too many childhood issues there.”

  He briefly smiles. “Bathroom, then.”

  “No,” I say as I start to grab his arm, but thankfully refrain. I lay my hand on my leg, fighting the urge to be all needy-Emma. “No, it’s okay. You can sleep on the floor in here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod, “Yes. There is only one window in here, so we can com
pletely block the sunlight. There are too many windows in the living room and I don’t have enough heavy drapes to block the light out completely. It’s fine.”

  I get up to retrieve an extra pillow and comforter from the closet. I lay them on the bed and then in second thought, get another comforter from the closet.

  “Here,” I lay the second comforter on top of the first. “You can lay on top of one and use the over to cover yourself. That way it won’t be as hard as lying directly on the floor.”

  He smiles, “I appreciate the thought, Emma.”

  I smile quickly then burry myself in my own comforter, turning my back to him. I can hear the faint sounds of the comforters being spread out on the floor, then Rick settling in for the day.

  I bite my lip, “Have a good day, Rick.” I cringe, feeling like a complete moron.

  He laughs, “You, too, Emma.”

  I lay in the silence for several moments, thinking of the events of the day. “So you could just walk in?” I ask.

  “Walk in where?”

  “To my apartment. I thought vampires had to ask for permission.”

  His voice seems slightly edged with humor. “Another myth. It’s much easier for us to prey upon unsuspecting humans if they think that we’re not vampires because we didn’t have to be invited into the home.”

  I groan in contemplation then, turn the bedside lamp off and look at the wall for what seems like forever. My mind focuses on the faint sounds of Rick moving, slightly “fake” breathing and adjusting to the floor.

  So much happened today. I killed a vampire. A murderous vampire, and I killed her in the name of science - and fifty thousand dollars. I have felt threatened with the disconcerting words painted across the door of my apartment. I was berated by a small-town cop and made to feel like I was the criminal for being an alleged outsider who cavorts with other outsiders. And now I feel safer. Safer in the company of a vampire.

  A very attractive vampire, who is sleeping in my bedroom. My mind wanders to scenes of Rick embracing me, caressing his cool fingers over my face and expressing his undying (and undead) love for me. Grinning at the spectacle in my mind’s eye, I finally fall asleep.

  Chapter 24

  I wake up in the late afternoon with the blankets all rumpled on the bed. I must’ve been fighting something in my sleep. I lean over the bed to check on Rick, who is mysteriously not on the floor. I sit up and see the comforters neatly folded and resting at the end of the bed. Order among my chaos. That’s either the mix for a perfect team or utter disaster. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that.

  I stretch while getting up to check the rest of the apartment for Rick. I glance at the clock which reads 3:45 p.m. Huh. Looks like I slept a little late. Or Rick is just an early riser, which doesn’t make sense considering his nighttime inclinations.

  I stumble into the living room and that’s when I hear it – the faint but unmistakable sound of the shower running. Rick in the shower. Naked in the shower. Okay, I need the distraction of coffee.

  By the time I have the coffee brewing, Rick emerges from the bathroom, his back close to the wall as he inches back toward the bedroom.

  “Good afternoon,” I say a little too loudly.

  He turns to me after he gets to the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the jamb. His chest glistening, with a towel – my towel – wrapped snuggly around his hips and his discarded clothes in his hands. “Good afternoon, Emma.”

  I arch an eyebrow at him. “Do you need anything?”

  “No, I just needed a shower to scrub the remnants of the last evening off. Unfortunately I don’t have a change of clothes, so that will have to wait until we get back to the facility.”

  “I could offer you one of my yoga outfits.”

  His lips twitch. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.” He turns to go into the bedroom.

  “You’re probably right,” I call after him. “They’re probably too big for your buff frame.” I immediately smack myself in the face. What was the point in saying that? Hurry up, coffee maker. I need to wake up my brain filters stat.

  I finally get my cup of hot, black sanity and go back to the bedroom. Rick is already dressed and sitting on the end of the bed. He looks up at me, his hair wet and dangling in the way of those enigmatic lavender eyes. I sit on the side of the bed and take a slow but hearty drink from my cup. “Would you like some coffee?” I ask.

  “No thanks, I’m fine.”

  “Do you need anything else? Sorry, but I’m all out of blood.”

  He turns to me, grinning, “Oh, I’m sure you have a vein or two that’s full.”

  My mouth drops open as he laughs. “I’m only kidding. I’ll eat when we get back to the facility. And get some new clothes.” He looks down at his shirt and pants and makes a show of brushing some unseen grubbiness from the cloth.

  “You can get clothes at the facility?”

  He looks up at me, slightly turning on the bed. “Yes. Since some of the people working there are vampires, they have made accommodations for us. It was actually part of the employment agreement. Many vampires will not take this type of job without it.”

  “What type of accommodations?” I ask.

  “Well, you already know about the donation of the administrators. We also have a place to sleep, store clothes and shower rooms.”

  “Shower rooms?”

  “Like many stalls in one big room. Like you might have experienced in secondary school,” he explained.

  “Oh, not me. I don’t take my clothes off in front of other people.”

  His eyes narrow slightly as he regards me. “An interesting tidbit of knowledge about you. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” His voice is low and almost predatory, in a very salacious way.

  I clear my throat and look down into my cup of coffee before busying myself with another drink. When I finally have the nerve to look up at him, I smile timidly. “I’m going to go ahead and shower and get ready.”

  He nods, smiling. “Good. We’ll leave when the sun goes down.”

  Once it was safe to go outside, we drive in near silence to the research facility. I arrive at the suite alone as Rick makes his way to the vampire quarters to get further cleaned up and fed for the evening.

  I look through all of our notes that are in the drawers of the center island. We still have a ways to go with this project. We have learned that vitamin D is the source of vampire fatality when it comes to the sun, but using vitamin D alone is too unstable. Thalia’s reaction showed that the vampire would almost go crazy in pain and had a few precious moments to wreak havoc on the closest possible human. Not exactly the result we were targeting. The goal was to save human lives, not possibly cause more human deaths.

  I turn, my backside resting against the center island as I look at the notes scribbled across the whiteboard. After thinking for a few moments, I let out a rather puzzled “huh” to be heard by only myself, and maybe Gwen in the observation room. Our solution effectively killed Thalia, causing an acid-like burn with eventual explosion that we have yet to explain. Bree’s and Abe’s solution incapacitated Thalia. Maybe what we need to do is figure out a way to implement both approaches to effectively destabilize vampires while the vitamin D burns them to a gory, piñata death.

  Okay, obviously the trauma of having vampire bits sprayed all over me has caused me to lapse into an almost sophomorically inappropriate line of thinking. When I try to analyze this later, I will probably realize that it’s nothing more than a defense mechanism and I’m not really making light in all of the darkness.

  The door opens, and I turn to see Rick walking in with a bottle of Coke in his hand. I raise my eyebrows at him, “Switching from hemoglobin to caffeine?”

  “It’s for you. I was at the cafeteria and thought you might be thirsty. I know I was.”

  I try not to grimace at the thought of him getting his drink from one of the administrators, probably Rita. But, hey, he is thinking about me and what I might
need or want. I’ll have to analyze that later, too. I take the bottle from his hand. “Thanks.”

  “Have you come up with anything?” he asks.

  “Sort of. It has just dawned on me that we would have the perfect approach if we combined our project with Bree’s and Abe’s.”

  He nods. “That would definitely help with keeping intended targets from thrashing out and hurting anyone before the vitamin D can take effect.”

  “Which is exactly what we need to do. So, do you remember what Bree had said were the chemicals they used in their solution?”

  “Saline and alcohol at elevated levels and mortuary-grade formaldehyde. Simple enough, but we will have to test for the possible reactions with the vitamin D,” he replied.

  “It definitely wouldn’t help if the other elements destroyed the effectiveness of the vitamin D. It would just render the solution pointless.”

  Rick appears to chew at his bottom lip as he regards me. “There may be another option.”

  “Which is?” I ask.

  “Well, in the very least we could develop a dual delivery system so that the actual saline-alcohol-formaldehyde solution doesn’t touch the vitamin D until it hits the vampire. At that point there most likely wouldn’t be enough time for any molecular destruction before the vampire begins to, um, deconstruct.”

  My brows raised in wonder and appreciation. “That’s actually an excellent idea. That way we can go ahead with the final demonstration without any further tests. If it works the way we think it will, we can head off the possibility of another team beating us to the punch. Or the splat, as it were.”

  Rick looks at me with a somewhat shocked expression on his face.

  “Sorry. I’ve recently embraced humor as an inappropriate, yet effective, way to deal with stress.”

  He walks over to me and places his hands on my shoulders. “We’re doing the right thing. What we have accomplished here at this research facility will surely save hundreds, if not thousands, of human lives.”

  His gaze deepens as his thumbs lightly caress the front of my shoulders, soothing me while igniting a fire in my veins. My lips part as I stare up at him, trying to remember what I should say as it feels like all the blood drains from my face. My lips quiver as I try to smile. “I know. I just need the mental wall to dam the flood of internal conflict. Logically I know that not all death is senseless. That doesn’t mean I want to be the one pulling the proverbially trigger.”