Sheriff Pierson watched the events play out pretty much the same as they had on the first tape. A foggy vapor followed a hospital worker into the room and materialized once the worker left. The man then took several bags of blood, tucked them beneath his coat, and walked right out.
“You’re right. It is the same guy.” Pierson observed the thin-framed man wearing the same gem-buttoned overcoat, and the unusual sway present in his movement—more of a slither than a walk.
“You can see him a little better this time. I took your advice and had my secretary arrange for additional lighting. The electrician got right on it, installed them yesterday, just in time to catch the thief on camera.”
“It’s an improvement, but his face is still blurry. Without that coat, I don’t think he could be picked out in a lineup.”
“I know. But the overall picture is clearer than before, and now, there’s no mistaking that he just appears out of nowhere. I want you to explain to me how this could possibly be a trick.”
“You can’t be saying you actually believe he just formed right out of that foggy vapor like…Count Dracula?” He voiced his skepticism, not quite as willing to accept such preposterous notions.
Sheriff Pierson was a logical man, but all expression dropped from his face when he recalled what Mr. Purrant told him regarding the case Jordon Black was working on, the one he referred to as The Vampire. But that was just a name attached to a serial killer, a man, not a vampire. Such creatures didn’t exist outside the realm of folklore and fairytales. No. What he and Patricia were seeing on the tape had to be a very clever trick. The thief was apparently a skilled magician. Pierson refused to concede to the prospect of reanimated corpses and would need a whole lot more proof to ever consider it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A Person of Interest
“Rudy wanted to see you, Sheriff,” Officer Traci informed Sheriff Pierson as he walked into the station, “but he popped out for a bite. He should be back any time.”
“Thank you, Traci.” He checked the time—7:37. “Radio and let him know I’ll be around awhile,” he instructed and continued on to his office.
Rudy arrived twenty minutes later smelling of burgers and onions.
“Come on in and have a seat,” Pierson motioned. “What do you have for me?”
“About the watch, I did some checking on the inscription and discovered that a woman did live in Hixton by the name Miralanya.”
“Why does that sound past tense?”
“Because it was sixty-five years ago,” Rudy told him.
“I take it she’s deceased?”
“Yes, sir.”
Pierson lit a cigarette. “I sure was counting on something more.”
“Wait a minute now, let me finish. I haven’t told you the most interesting part. Her last name was von Vadim. Miralanya von Vadim. Interesting tidbit of information, huh?”
“Very.” Pierson blew out a whirl of smoke. “She lived at the estate?”
“That was the address on her death certificate.”
“Check with the lab and see if they found a date on the watch.”
“I’m ahead of you, Sheriff. They did find a date on the inside watchcase. It’s marked 1926. They also lifted a couple of prints, but there was no match in the database.”
“That’s unfortunate. The time period doesn’t fit the late uncle—Victor von Vadim. It would have been the estate owner before him. Does the death certificate show a relative? She must have been a wife or sister.”
“There’s no spouse or family member listed, and since there’s no previous records, we can’t be sure.”
“It’s curious that the murders started not long after our young von Vadim heir arrived at the estate,” Pierson said.
“You’re right. He moved in about a month ago.”
“He’s high on my list of suspects, but the only thing I have linking him to any of the murders is a business card he picked up at Purcell’s garage. It was Sandy Darnell’s, the second victim.”
“It’s certainly looking like his arrival corresponding with the start of the murders might be more than coincidence. But we don’t have strong enough evidence to justify bringing him in. Having an inscription matching a distant relative’s first name won’t suffice. We can’t prove it belongs to von Vadim, and there’s no way of verifying that the Miralanya who inscribed it is even the same Miralanya von Vadim who lived at the estate all those years ago.”
“I’d bet my life it’s his, inherited along with everything else in that estate. You’re right, though,” Pierson grimaced, “we do need something more solid. It’s ironic, yesterday, I stopped by the estate hoping to question Mr. von Vadim and found Tomes Jaffler there.”
“The first victim’s husband?”
Sheriff Pierson nodded.
“What’s their relationship?”
“Neighbors, for one, and he claims to be working for von Vadim.” Pierson checked the time. “You know, it’s not too late. I still have a while before dark. I think I’ll grab a burger myself, and head over to Hixton…try my luck again. Besides, there’s something else I need to look into while I’m there. I can knock out two birds with one stone.”
“What’s that?”
“I received, on good authority, a report of noises heard in the basement of a vacant ranch house. Mr. Kensington, principal at the high school, declined purchasing the property, thinking the house might be haunted.” He rubbed out his cigarette.
“You’re joking, right, a haunted house?”
Sheriff Pierson laughed and stood up. “Things couldn’t get any weirder, could they?” He moved toward the door and gave Rudy a friendly slap on the back as they exited his office.
“I certainly hope not, sir. This is Jackson County, not Transylvania.”
* * * *
The sun had just fallen below the horizon when the doorbell prompted Corin to crawl out of his crypt. It was quiet for a moment before it rang out again with three consecutive chimes. Wondering who the persistent visitor was, he pulled on his pants and made his way up the stairs. In the twilight, he was able to leave the protection of the darkened basement, and walk in the dim light that came before the fall of night.
“Sheriff,” he acknowledged upon opening the door, concealing his surprise and dread.
“Mr. von Vadim. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all.” Corin made an effort to put forth a friendly front, inconspicuously blocking the light, as his eyes had not yet adjusted.
“I was hoping to have a word with you, if you don’t mind. It won’t take long.”
“Of course, please, come in.” Corin shut the door the moment Pierson entered. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to a Victorian-style sofa displayed in the living room.
Corin sat across from the sheriff in a high-backed chair, waiting for him to divulge the purpose of his visit.
“I came by yesterday. Tomes Jaffler was here. I assume he informed you of my visit.”
“Yes. He told me. I was planning to contact you. He thinks you might be considering me a suspect.”
“Let’s just say…a person of interest. About Mr. Jaffler, you’d do well to keep an eye on him. If I’m to believe the dramatic execution he gave, I’d say he’s treading down a dark and dangerous road. The last thing I need is a vigilante to deal with.”
“Tomes is in good hands. And I guess he was right about you suspecting me.”
Corin was careful to maintain the appearance of a man at ease with nothing to hide. He knew Sheriff Pierson was carefully observing his reactions, no doubt surmising him and Tomes conspirators.
“A person of interest,” Pierson reiterated.
“If you don’t mind my asking, just what is it about me that’s sparked such interest?”
“To be truthful, Mr. von Vadim, a couple of things have led me to your door.” Pierson pulled his notepad from his pocket and skimmed his notes. “It’s curious how the murders started just after your arrival here in
Jackson County. Then there’s the matter of Sandy Darnell. You were supplied one of her business cards when having some spark plugs changed on your Harley at Purcell’s Garage, the very night of her murder.”
“Yes, I don’t deny it. But I was never able to reach her,” Corin told him the truth of the matter, knowing the man had done his homework.
“So you’re alleging that you never made contact with her by phone, or otherwise?”
“I neither spoke to nor saw her,” Corin affirmed.
“With this large estate, I don’t understand why you’d be looking to purchase more real estate.”
“Just seeing what’s available on the market for investment. I don’t believe there’s any crime in that.”
Pierson moved on with his questioning. “There were two murders last night—one in the parking lot of Black River Falls Memorial Hospital, and the other at the county fair. I’m sure you’ve heard. It’s been all over the news.”
“Yes, I heard.”
“I don’t suppose you’d know anything about either of those murders, would you?”
“Nothing more than what’s been broadcast.” Sheriff Pierson’s accusatory demeanor irritated Corin, but he kept his cool.
“At the hospital murder site we found a gold pocket watch. The chain was broken, we presume yanked off during a struggle between the victim and her attacker.”
“That’s all very interesting, Sheriff, but I don’t understand what any of this has to do with me.”
“On the back of the watch there’s an inscription, For my prince of the night. Miralanya. Would you know anything about this particular timepiece?”
“No. And I don’t know why you’d suspect I would.”
“I should tell you, Mr. von Vadim, we did some checking and discovered that a woman named Miralanya von Vadim resided in this very house, sixty-five years ago.”
“I won’t dispute that I had a past relative named Miralanya, but come on, Sheriff, it’s preposterous to think the watch you found belonged to her. Anyone having that same first name could have inscribed it.”
“True. But it’s a rather uncommon name. No other records match it in the county. So let’s just suppose for a moment that Miralanya von Vadim did inscribe the watch we found and gave it to one of your relatives as a gift. It was dated 1926, so presumably, whoever resided here before your late uncle. And if that is the case, it would mean the watch came from this house, which is now your home, Mr. von Vadim.”
“But you are only speculating, Sheriff. And I assure you, I know nothing about such a watch.”
“If you’re telling the truth, you shouldn’t mind coming down to the station for fingerprinting. We lifted some prints from the piece, and if they prove not to be yours, that will put you in the clear. What do you say?”
“I always aim to cooperate with the law, but something tells me I should speak with my lawyer first. How about I have him get back with you on this fingerprinting issue, and we’ll go from there.” Corin didn’t give an inch, irritated by Pierson’s attempt at coercion, assuming the man lacked necessary legal grounds to enforce compliance.
“Fair enough, I can’t force you to comply…yet.”
I thought as much.
“I guess I’m not under arrest, then?” Corin got up, remaining cordial, despite the imputation.
“No, you’re not being charged with anything at present. However, I could bring you in on suspicion alone,” Pierson threatened.
“Suspicion of what?” Corin asked with all seriousness. “There’s no proof I’ve committed any crime.”
“If you’re innocent, why refuse fingerprinting? What are you afraid of?” Pierson countered. “Something tells me I should bring you in right now.”
“But I don’t think you’ll do that, Sheriff. In turn, I’d have to sue the Jackson County Sheriff’s Office for false arrest. I know people, and it wouldn’t look good for you. Besides, I told you, I don’t know anything about that watch, or the realtor’s murder.”
“So you say, Mr. von Vadim.”
“It’s the truth, whether you chose to believe it or not. But if you insist on hounding me, my lawyer is only a phone call away. A little forewarning…he’s the best at what he does, always eager to rip into someone.” Corin escorted Sheriff Pierson to the door, more than ready for him to go.
“Just don’t plan on leaving town anytime soon.” Pierson was adamant. “And that’s an order, not a request.”
“I just got here, Sheriff. I have no plans of leaving.”
Sheriff Pierson’s cell phone rang just as he stepped outside. “Hello.” He turned and moved several feet from Corin to talk. “Yes, Traci, but it’ll be a little while. I have a ranch house to check out while I’m in Hixton.” Pierson took several additional steps. “I guess Rudy didn’t fill you in.” He silently paused. “No. I got a report of strange noises coming from the basement of a vacant property over on Hillman Road. I assume it’s mice, but you can never be too careful. It could be vagrants.”
There was a second silent pause.
“Okay. Just leave it on my desk and I’ll get to it later.” Pierson slid the phone in his pocket and turned back to face Corin.
“I couldn’t help overhearing, Sheriff. With night on the fall, you might want to consider putting that task off till tomorrow,” Corin attempted to dissuade him, thinking Boldor could be the source. A vacant, secluded home would suit the nightwalker’s needs perfectly. “I heard you mention Hillman Rd. I recently passed by that ranch and the place is overrun with weeds and overgrowth. I don’t think it’s been tended to in months, not a place you’d want to check out in the dark.”
“You might be right,” Pierson started for his SUV. “Remember, von Vadim, don’t leave town.”
Corin watched as the sheriff drove away, then reentering the house, he met up with Tomes who was coming through the lanai door.
“When did you get here?” He’d been so involved with the sheriff he hadn’t sensed him.
Corin had grown accustomed to Tomes coming and going. Having him in the house during the day while he rested beneath the mansion, gave him an ease he hadn’t had in quite some time. The company was also nice, someone to break the cycle of loneliness associated with his dark existence.
“Oh, about an hour ago, give or take. I’m parked out back. I wanted to do a little target practice with the staker. I wouldn’t want to miss my mark when the time comes. Anyway, when I started inside and realized the sheriff was here, I decided to lay low until he left.”
“It’s a good thing you did. He’s suspicious enough.”
“I couldn’t hear much, but it looked intense.”
“They found a watch last night at the hospital murder site, where the woman was found dead in the parking lot.”
“What’s that got to do with you?”
“The watch they found is mine—the gold pocket watch Boldor stole from me. The miscreant either lost it during his attack, or he planted it, trying to incriminate me.”
“How did the sheriff find out that it belongs to you?”
“He can’t prove it does, and I denied it was mine, but there’s an inscription on the back signed with the name, Miralanya, and they discovered that a woman by that name resided here, at von Vadim Estate, many years ago. He knows he’s right, but there’s not enough proof.”
“If I were in his shoes, I’d be suspicious too,” Tomes said. “It doesn’t look good. You were already on his suspect list due to Purcell giving you the realtor’s business card.”
“Something else he mentioned.”
“Jail isn’t an option for you. Come sunup, you’d have to escape or poof, become dust of the earth.”
Corin groaned, but Tomes’s words rang true. Being arrested was not an option.
“The killing won’t stop until we find Boldor’s hideout and rid ourselves of him once and for all,” Corin talked as he headed for the basement door, “something the sheriff might have just unknowingly helped us with.”
&n
bsp; Tomes followed. “What do you know?”
“When he was leaving, he took a call, and I overheard him mention a vacant ranch house over on Hillman Road. Something about noises in the basement. He was concerned it might be vagrants, and I think he probably right, except something tells me that the nomad lying low there won’t be of the human kind.”
* * * *
Boldor gave Louisa a packet of blood and stepped back while she fed. He knew she hungered for fresh blood, and with his attempt to satisfy that craving, he hoped to also gain her trust in the process. Now able to approach her, he reached out and stroked her hair without fear of losing a limb.
“You’re all but impossible to handle, my little firecat, but you are a beauty.” He talked to her, even though he knew she didn’t fully comprehend what he was saying. “I’m going to leave you again, but I won’t be gone long. If you call, I will hear. With our mental connection, I will know if you need me, and I won’t go beyond a distance of detecting you.”
She grunted, paying him no mind, ripping apart the bag with her razor-sharp teeth, determined to lick up every drop.
Boldor felt more confident about leaving Louisa alone now that her hunger had been temporarily satisfied, and he figured he’d better go out to feed and save the bags of blood for her, knowing she would need more soon. Furthermore, it was time to put a plan he had contrived into action. So, locking the basement door, he exited the house and shape-shifted into a raven, expelling a menacing caw as he leaped into the darkness of the night.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Darkness Below
Jordon Black sat at a corner table waiting for his order. He’d been eating at the Black River Falls Diner on a daily basis since his arrival in Jackson County. The food wasn’t half-bad and the servers were easy on the eyes. When the waitress approached with his meal, she remarked on a partially concealed tattoo marking his right forearm—a half-skull, half-human design with a moon replacing the eye of the skull, and the sun replacing the eye of the man.
Corin & Angelique (After the Fall of Night) Page 17