Blood Emerald

by Amber Anthony

  “What’s going on?”

  “She twinkled, she shone, and now she’s gone.”

  “What?”

  Rick held up the letter. “Anna left me.”

  Matt read the letter twice before he found the words to comment. “What did you do to her, Rick?”

  “I loved her.”

  “Then what does this mean?” He held the letter out and quoted. “…I want it in daylight where I can see what’s chasing me. What’s chasing her?”

  Rick silently shook his head and shrugged.

  “Snap out of it. Somebody got to her.”

  “Do you smell anyone else here?”

  Matt paced the edges of the rooms. “Brother, there are no points of intrusion, no evidence of break in. You didn’t have a fight?”

  “No.”

  Matt picked up the landline and scrolled through the week’s calls. Nothing nefarious. He picked up a cell phone on the kitchen counter. “Is this Anna’s?”

  Rick nodded. Matt silently debated passwords.

  Rick despondently said, “Liplock.”

  “What?”

  “Her phone passcode is Liplock.”

  Matt scrolled through texts and messages and photos until his blood rose. One image angered him. He carried the phone and sat next to Rick. “If she cut and colored her hair, isn’t this Veronique?” The two men dissected the candid image of two dogs and an awkward angle of their nemesis.”

  “She must be using Humanité. This was taken in daylight this week.” Rick studied the shot.

  Matt punched off the phone. “And she’s back, the mistress of the mind-fuck.”

  * * * *

  In cop mode, Matt recounted his assessment. “The garage door opened and closed at 7:27 in the morning. The Mustang was in a Consort parking space by 10:07. She entered and exited the penthouse in twenty minutes. Helen reported the Mustang’s keys and a portfolio were left on the kitchen counter.” Matt kneeled before his friend and asked, “Do you know where she would go?”

  Rick’s head hung. “She’s got a twelve hour lead on me.”

  Matt patted his knee. “Get dressed buddy.” Matt slid out his phone. “Let’s find out where she is. We’ll call the responders.”

  * * * *

  Matt carried a tall glass of O positive out to the dark penthouse patio. Rick floated in the water, eyes unseeing. “Hey, buddy. I got something.”

  Rick was upright and out of the water. “What?” He accepted the proffered drink and tapped his wet foot.

  “Security cameras at LAX got a white female with a large black dog getting into a cab at noon. We caught up with the cab driver around nine and he remembered a girl with a big dog. He dropped her off at the train station.”

  Rick drained the glass. “Of course, because of Player. Which way did she go?”

  “The Responders said, she bought a ticket for Vancouver.”

  “Where the hell is she going?”

  “We called Jerry Curley’s home in a little town outside Columbus and they haven’t heard from her since Halloween. Their birthday card was returned undeliverable.”

  “When was her birthday?”

  “She was your girlfriend…”

  “She is my girlfriend. So now we scared her parents.”

  “What’s another log on the fire at this point, old man?”

  Rick paced the patio, starting a sentence and halting. Shaking his head in private debate, then sitting back down on the edge of the pool. “I have to find out what happened, we had a fan-friggin-tastic Christmas. We were closer than we’ve ever been. And now she’s gone.”

  Matt leaned on the glass railing. “I think that house is cursed. You need to burn it down.”

  “It’s not the house, Matt. It’s us.”

  “You and Anna?”

  “You and I, the undead. We soulless nightwalkers. We’re cursed.”

  Matt turned, leaning back at the railing. “Whoa. Did aliens suck you up to the mother ship? Who are you and what have you done with the poster child for Vampire Pride? Are you sure it’s not foul play?”

  “Whatever it is, it involves our favorite psychopath.” Rick shuddered as he toweled off and switched on the evening news. “I need some background noise.” Matt followed him inside and watched his friend. “I’m gonna pack a bag.”

  “For where?” Matt followed him through the loft. They ended up in the dressing room with the TV droning. Rick sat on the end of the bed, a duffle bag in his lap. Matt sat across the room on a hassock. “What now?”

  Rick frowned. “You’re the security expert, you tell me.” They sat in uneasy silence staring blindly at the television.

  A catchy instrumental island tune played over moonlight shining down on the ocean, rolling waves and torch-lit beaches. The voiceover announced. “Premiering on the Supernatural Channel, “Mystical Therapies”, starring Trevor McGonagall.”

  Rick laughed at the square-jawed protagonist.

  “Lance Pak.” Matt nodded at the Asian practicing martial arts in the moonlight. “…and introducing Vivi Morrison.”

  The cafe au lait actress stood in a lab coat and assessed a test tube of blood. Matt and Rick launched to their feet.

  “Motherfucker!” Matt curled his fist in agitation.

  “Hidden in plain sight.”

  “Hollywood Confidential airs an exclusive backstage interview with L.A.’s own Vivi Morrison.”

  The two sat back down, riveted. The show’s emcee set up the interview. “We were with Vivi Morrison at her modest Wilshire apartment tonight. We’re talking with her about her breakout role as a Vampire hematologist in a new paranormal drama.”

  “Life imitate art much?” Rick dialed his phone. “Giles, I can tell you where to find Veronique Moreau, who you’ve been seeking all these weeks.”

  * * * *

  Matt accessed the beach security footage. “Just because Anna drove away doesn’t mean she wasn’t stalked. I’m bringing up the pier footage and running the time frame when Anna walked Player.”

  Rick hovered over Matt’s shoulder, hungry for the sight of Anna and the dog. “Looky who we have in the parking lot…this morning.”

  Rick rolled his shoulders back and drew in a deep unnecessary breath. “Did she touch her?”

  Matt clicked through available cameras finally finding a long shot of Veronique and Anna in an animated conversation. “The responders hacked into the private security cameras to provide us with video of Anna’s walk back to the house.” They stood watching Anna’s lips move. Rick squeezed Matt’s shoulder. “Do you read lips?” Matt shook his head. Anna’s face was angrily agitated and she kept Player on a short leash, stopping periodically to stomp her foot or throw a piece of driftwood back into the ocean. At one point she walked out into shin-deep water, the dog resisting. Only after the dog raised hell, did she turn around. She wiped tears from her face and then broke off to run back to the beach house.

  “Whatever happened, that bitch is behind it.”

  * * * *

  Matt’s phone number appeared on Rick’s caller ID. “What?”

  “I have good—”

  “Where is she?”

  Matt let a second tick as he shook his head at Cat and put the phone on speaker. “A car rental desk at the Cincinnati train station rented a car to Anna Curley at four fifteen this afternoon.”

  “It’s fucking two in the morning, how did this take so long?”

  “Rick, we don’t own the Midwest. I had to grease a lot of wheels with the Cinci club to get cooperation.”

  “…I understand.”

  “You’re welcome…” There was a pregnant pause.

  “And then?”

  “The car’s transponder registered at Anna’s parents’ home. You said she’d go home.”

  “What about the ticket to Vancouver?”

  Cat closed her eyes and took the phone from Matt. “The ticket was used, she gave it to a woman. She doesn’t seem to want you to find her. You have to consider this is r
eally over.”

  Matt paced at Cat’s delivery waiting for the explosion from upstairs.

  “I have to find out what lies Veronique told her. If she still wants nothing to do with me after I’ve told her the truth, I’ll let her go.”

  Matt took back the telephone. “I took the liberty of calling in the pilots.” He rubbed the back of his neck and ran his thumb over his bottom lip.

  Cat snuggled into his embrace. “Have you ever seen him like this?”

  “Nope, he’s got it bad.”

  “If he gets the chance to talk to her, they’ll work it out. She loves him and he loves her.”

  “When a woman really loves a man they go through hell for each other.”

  Cat looked up at him and he savored the heaven he salvaged from their past hell.

  * * * *

  The rental car cut a trail down the half-mile road to the home she had known for eighteen years. Holiday greenery swaged across the windowsills, the frigid night air carried wood smoke and burning pinecones. “You get to meet Bonkers. You don’t eat cats, do you, Player?” Anna smiled at the dog in the front seat before she keyed off the ignition. She watched the porch light flip on and sucked in a fortifying breath.

  Anna carried her one bag toward the two hundred-year-old brick farmhouse as a silhouette appeared in the leaded glass window in the door. It was her brother, he’d grown half a foot since she left after college graduation. He threw open the door and jumped down the snowy path.

  “Anna Banana…You got a dog. Holy shit.”

  “Language, dork-pie.” She dropped her bag in the snow and hugged him. He smelled like tacos. “Are you still working at Zapata’s after school?”

  “It’s Christmas vacation, I’m pulling almost thirty hours, saving for a car.” He popped a look over her shoulder. “What are you driving? Where’s your car?”

  “Wyatt, it’s a rental. I left my car in L.A.” I left lots of things there. “Where’s the ‘rents’?”

  Player lunged toward the warmth of the indoors and they followed the dog as they caught up with each other.

  “Dad’s playing billiards at the VFW. Mom’s taking water aerobics down at the Community center. Wanna pop a cold one while they’re out?”

  “I’m not even out of my coat and you want me to drink with you?” Anna hung her pea coat on the hall tree and dropped her purse and Player’s leash. “What happened to ‘a Scout is clean in thought, word and deed’?” Anna eyed the original part of the home with its high plaster ceilings and earnest woodwork. The breakfast table was covered with a quilted table runner and an unlit candle centerpiece.

  “If I didn’t ask, you wouldn’t offer. Hey, I’m one project away from Eagle. I was just kidding.”

  Anna shook her head at her fifteen-year-old brother. “Has Dad turned my bedroom into a poolroom yet?” She waited at the foot of the staircase as the Rottie sniffed baseboards curiously.

  “Nope, but they were pissed you didn’t call at Christmas.”

  “I’ve been busy with a new job, I’ve been travelling,” Anna answered absent-mindedly as she led the dog upstairs to her pastel lavender palace. The door opened on history with posters of Taylor Lautner and Chris Hemsworth. The full bed was an avalanche of stuffed kittens and eyelet pillows. She walked over to the historically small closet and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Two days on a train, even in a sleeper, had wreaked havoc on her. She held out her hair and looked at all two feet of it. Christ, I look like a child. I’m laughable. I need a radical makeover.

  Player circled and rested his head on a braided rag rug under the vanity table, he followed her with his soulful brown eyes as she stopped at the stations of her innocent years before she knew vampires were real. She stood at the poster of Eric Northman and spasmodically ripped it off the wall and into twenty or so pieces. That felt really good. Anna stuck her head out into the hall. “Wyatt, would you walk Player while I get a shower? I’ll take you out to Rowdy’s for pizza.”

  “Deal, Anna-Banana.”

  “Stop the Anna-Banana crap.”

  The clawfoot tub was the first of the things she needed.

  * * * *

  Rowdy’s was her teenage hangout. Her high school heartthrobs took her there after games or movies. It was flush with families and couples tonight. Anna checked her watch, only 7:45 in the evening. In the winter darkness it felt like midnight, she had to shake out of feeling it was ‘noon’.

  “Wyatt, over here.” Anna led her brother to the two-topper in the corner of the bar. “I’m going to have a drink or two. I’ve earned it. Here’s the keys for the drive home.” Wyatt’s eyes brightened as he caught the key ring. She ordered a tall Long Island iced tea and carried it back to the table.

  “Nothing for me?” Wyatt snarked as he raised a finger to the server. “A large whole hog pizza, extra cheese. Garlic sticks, extra garlic butter and a pitcher of Mountain Dew. What do you want, sis?”

  * * * *

  After half the large pizza, six Buffalo wings and three Long Island iced teas, a familiar male voice called from across the bar. “Anna?” She pulled her baseball cap down and bit her lip. Her teenage dream, Mason Baker stood before her with a tall glass of ice water. “I was tied up with a private party but when I heard a redhead was ordering Long Islands with Grand Marnier I knew it had to be you.” Without encouragement, the strapping farm boy threw his arms around Anna.

  “What are you doing here, Mason?” Anna grimaced and sucked down an inch of water.

  “I bartend on weekends, I got into the Masters program for Math at OSU. Are you back from the land of fruit and nuts?” Mason was six foot three of farm-honed muscle. His jet-black hair graced him with a five o’clock shadow by noon. If Anna hadn’t dated him for a year in high school, she would have quivered for his attentions. That was then, this is now. “Are your parents doing the New Year’s dance party this year?”

  Purposefully trying to ward Mason off, she took a huge bite of pizza and chewed while she mumbled. Swallowing she admitted. “I just got in tonight, I picked up Wyatt and came over for a bite. Not sure about the…”

  Wyatt washed down half a mug of Mountain Dew and piped up. “Bonfire at seven, dancing at nine, food goes out at ten. You coming over?” Anna glared into her glass.

  Mason squeezed her hand. “Hope you brought your dancing shoes, Anna.”

  * * * *

  “Mom, Dad!” Wyatt yelled as he pushed through the front door. “Look who I found on the side of the road…” Anna trailed into the house waiting for the blowback from not calling on Christmas Day.

  “Annie, sweetheart…” There were hugs and tears and a few mugs of hot chocolate.

  * * * *

  The trouble was, Rick now felt isolated from everyone in his past, everyone he’d ever loved. And for the first time in a long time, he walked around with a lump of emotion, somewhere between his chest and throat. Generally, boarding his jet meant a phenomenal business deal or an exotic location. Tonight, he headed to the heart of snowy Ohio, and he hoped Anna’s heart would thaw with his words.

  * * * *

  “Mr. Hiatt,” the copilot tapped Rick’s shoulder. “I know we’ve already been grounded once, but we’ve had word of a storm…”

  “This is usually a five-hour flight. Bollocks!” Rick slapped the armrest.

  “Yes, Sir. We have to land in Northern Kentucky. The Columbus airport is closed. We’ve reserved a driver and a sport utility vehicle.”

  Rick frowned at the news. “Cancel the driver, I’ll drive myself.”

  * * * *

  Anna was in the safest of all places, her childhood bed. She held Bonkers on her chest. The huge cat purred as Anna stroked his bunny-soft fur. She spent the day weighing her options versus the weather. It was a matter of hours to days before Rick’s gestapo found her. Now, instead of her home as a jump-off point it could become a siege point. What was she thinking leading at least one vampire right to her parent’s door? She regretted endangering the
people she loved most in the world. She had to get out of here.

  She didn’t want Rick’s money, but damn, it would have erased her trail out of Los Angeles.

  “You and I will stay in here away from that mean, mean, dog and the stupid boys, right Bonkie?” The cat slobbered and twitched. Then settled back down. She stroked both ears. “We don’t need no stinkin’ dance party! The New Year will roll right over us whether we like it or not.”

  She recognized her mother’s light knock on the door. “Pumpkin?”

  Through the door, Anna shouted, “What Mom?”

  “Would you mind if I came in?”

  Anna shuddered at what her mother could heap on top of tragedy. “Okay.” She never got up.

  Susan Curley, a honey-blonde highlighted with gray, who still retained her sense of vivacity, held a garment bag. “Pumpkin, your Daddy sent me in here with this. Would you dance a little tonight?”

  Anna sat up resignedly. “Wyatt invited Mason. I want to kill both of them.”

  Susan hung the dress on the closet door. She sighed deeply. “Well, you two made a great couple. You wouldn’t have won the Junior’s Trophy if you and Mason weren’t in step with each other.”

  “Mason was the only guy taller than me.”

  “It’s not a New Year’s party unless your Dad cranks up the tunes and we all take a spin. Don’t think for a minute that he doesn’t treasure the days you danced on top of his feet.”

  Anna rolled her eyes, awash in guilt at the soft peach chiffon dress her Mother unzipped. It was not the full-length gown Anna had cried for, it had a delicately pleated bodice with a cabbage rose at the waist. At least the skirt flowed when Mason spun her out. Anna rose from the bed and moved toward her Mom in a sad hug.