Sure enough, Tatiana was sitting on the stone steps, about fifty yards from us. She'd apparently pulled a pair of black slacks on over her dancing tights, and had on a pair of ankle-high, laced walking boots. She was in bright afternoon sunlight, and her hair shone like neon. She held her hand to her forehead to shade her eyes as we approached, and stood.
“Hi,” I said.
“What can we do for you?” asked Hester.
Tatiana didn't appear at all nervous, just in a hurry.
“Okay, look, I don't have a lot of time, and there's a couple of things you should know about what's going on.”
“You've got our complete attention,” I said.
“Let's take a little walk,” suggested Tatiana. We did, she and I walking together down a winding walk that crossed the big lawn, Hester and Harry following about a step behind. “Okay, first … well, you should know that we picked up Dan Peale on our way home, and gave him a ride.”
“You and Jessica? When you left Freiberg?” Always make sure.
“Yes.”
“Where did he spend the night?” asked Hester.
“Here,” said Tatiana. “In Lake Geneva.”
We stayed on the sidewalk, and meandered through a stand of trees.
“Wait just a second,” I said. “Your attorney told us that you two left early that morning. How could he have spent the night here, and then you gave him a ride?”
Tatiana snickered. “Early that morning? You might say that, I guess, and still be truthful. We left about ten after midnight.”
Ah. Attorneys. Always the most deceptive when they tell the truth.
“And where did you pick Dan up?”
“Right at the mine entrance, where we knew he'd be,” she said. “Just pulled over, and Jessica honked the horn. He came over the fence in a few minutes, and we were on our way.”
“How did you know that?” I asked. “Where to find him, I mean?”
“Cell phones,” said Tatiana, with eyebrows raised and an unspoken “duh” dangling from the end of the sentence.
Ah, again. I was going to have to buy one of those damned things, just so I wouldn't keep forgetting they existed.
“Where is he now?” I asked.
“I don't know. I think Jessica does, but I don't.”
“When did you last see him?” Hester asked.
“About seven-thirty this morning,” was the reply. “That's what I want to talk to you about. He's got one of Jessica's cars, and I'm afraid he's going to drag her down with him.”
She wasn't about to break down or anything, but she did seem to be getting toward an edge.
“Why do you say that?”
“He wants her to stay with him forever,” said Tatiana. “She's really mad at him right now, and that's good, but she let him have the car, and that's just because they spent last night together, and he's working on her emotions.” She took a deep breath. “Jessica's such a wonderful person, and he's going to get her in trouble because she cares.”
“How do you know she's mad at him?” I asked, leaving out any reference to them spending the night together. Their sleeping together really didn't strike me as an anger reaction. That, plus an image of a caring Jessica Hunley was hard to achieve.
“Oh,” said Tatiana, “you should have seen her when he got in the car down at the mine. She slapped him. Really. Three times, and called him an idiot and a fool.” Her eyes widened as she spoke. “I've never seen her mad like that. She was just furious.”
“And he didn't stop her?” asked Hester.
“He just sat there. Really. I was driving, and he got in the car, and there wasn't really room, and she just started slapping him, and he just sat there and let her.”
“Really?” Hester didn't look convinced.
“Really, I'm telling you. You'd have to see her that way. I'm not kidding. He just got this stony look on his face, and never even said a word.”
Interesting. She'd established Jessica as the dominant personality, without a doubt.
“Well, since she's already been harboring a felon,” said Hester, “how much more damage can he do to her?”
“He wants to go to London,” said Tatiana. “See?”
“No,” I said, “I guess I don't. Why London?”
“You know. He says that's where he's from, originally. Anyway, to go all that distance, he needs more energy,” said the dancer. “Lots of it.”
“Yes?” She was losing me, and fast.
“We're afraid he has to kill again, to gain energy, before he can go on such a long trip.”
“Wouldn't killing somebody like that just drain more energy?” I asked. Thinking to myself, Jesus, what kind of nuts are these people?
“You know what he is. Huck said she told you what he is.”
“You mean a vampire?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah,” I said, “she and Toby and I guess everybody at least thought that's what he might be, to varying degrees.” I shrugged. “I don't think Huck believes that, really. Do you?”
“He is.” She said it very simply, and very convincingly. “He's a vampire. He gets energy from drinking blood. I know that.”
This was no time to bring up the subtle differences between actually being a vampire, and just being very delusional. She believed it, and that was going to have to do. The important thing was, if he really thought he was a vampire, there was a good chance he'd be tending to act as if he were. The downside was that if he was playing an elaborate game, he was only going into vampire mode to impress or frighten certain people. If that were the case, we were then dealing with somebody who was going to act normally outside their view. The latter scenario had my vote.
“So,” said Harry, “where do you think he's headed?”
Tatiana was silent for a second, organizing her response. She was genuinely worried, no doubt about that. She glanced at her watch. “Okay. Okay, look, Toby contacted us on e-mail, and said that he had some stuff to tell Dan. We just said to send it to us, and we'd try to find Dan.” She looked seriously at me. “Toby's not all that reliable, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We know.” I made a mental note to obtain a search warrant for Toby's computer. I knew Harry was thinking the same about Jessica at this end.
“So Toby told us that Edie was talking to the cops. That'd be you, I suppose,” she said, almost as an afterthought. “So Dan called him, and told him to stop Edie by … by putting the stake in her heart, and other stuff.” Another deep breath. “So, you guys told us today that he really did that. Right?”
“Right. Or, at least, some of it. He did the stake thing,” I said, “but he couldn't do the other stuff.” She opened her mouth to talk, and I held up my hand. “Just so there's no misunderstanding, I really didn't say that Edie was actually talking to us. I indicated that her body could tell the pathologist things. Toby just put his own spin on it.”
“Oh.” She considered that, and I got the impression she didn't believe me. “Well, whatever. Anyway, Toby also said that Huck was talking to you, and that he thought Melissa was about ready to give up everything.”
“Well,” I said, “that's not been the case.”
“He thinks it is,” said Tatiana, “I can tell you that. Toby told him, and he's just furious.”
“So?”
“I'm afraid that he's going to go back to the Mansion and hurt somebody.”
“Why would he go back there? The cops know all about the Mansion,” Hester said.
“Because they've been cultivated by him, just for that,” said Tatiana. “They're his, well, his disciples, you know? And his livestock, kind of, at the same time.”
“Look,” I said, “why don't you come with us to some place where we can get all this down, and you can—”
“Jesus Christ, you guys! I gotta get back,” she said. “If Jessica finds out I'm gone … ” Her eyes darted to her watch, again. “Maybe later? Maybe tonight sometime? You do believe me, don't you? God, Huck said you were pret
ty real people.”
“I believe you about everything that counts, that's for sure,” I said. “I believe that Dan's pissed, and I believe Toby's an idiot. And I believe we better get some people to that house.”
She started walking away very fast, almost skipping as she turned back to us. “I'll call you,” she said. “Later,” and she was gone.
We decided that we'd better get word to the people at the Mansion, just in case he was really headed back there. I sort of doubted it, frankly. Delusional doesn't necessarily equate with dumb.
I called the Nation County Sheriff's Department on Hester's phone. I asked Sally to get a message to Borman.
“Just a sec, I'll let you talk to him.”
“What?” I didn't want to do that, not until I could reach him, anyway. But I had no choice. “He's right in the back room,” she said. “Writing his reports.”
Borman came on the line a second later. “Hi.”
“I thought you were up around the Mansion?”
“No, we went up there, and everything's fine. I thought I better come back down and get writing on these reports.”
I could see why he'd want to do that, but I wasn't all too happy about it. I thought he was trying to avoid working overtime, as opposed to being eiffcient.
“Look, go back up and talk to them again, will you? We have indications that Peale was in Lake Geneva this morning, early. He left. He's driving one of Jessica Hunley's cars, but we don't know which one for sure. There's a good chance he may be on his way back to the Mansion. Tell them that. All of them.” I really tried for a friendly voice. Well, a normal one, anyway. He didn't know that I was aware he'd filed a grievance, and he'd figure out Lamar had told me if I mentioned it.
“Oh, okay. Sure. So, like, you're over in Lake Geneva, then?”
Well, it was a good guess, and there really wasn't a reason to keep it secret anymore, since we'd already talked to Jessica.
“Yeah, we're in Lake Geneva. We got a few interviews to do yet, and should be on the way back tomorrow sometime.”
“Oh. Rank has its privileges, huh?”
I couldn't tell from his voice whether he was kidding or being sarcastic. “It sure does. You might want to remember that.” I took a breath, and lightened back up.
“Keep all this to yourself, though. Just you and Lamar. No point in the whole world knowing just yet.”
“Okay, I'll get right on it. Nothing much going on here, at all.” He sounded fairly earnest, and sincere.
“Okay. You might want to pick up some OT, and hang around up there this evening. Maybe a good idea to have a couple of reserves up there tonight, all right?”
“You got it.”
“Give me back to Sally, will you?”
“Yo!” Sally always managed to sound cheerful.
“Yeah, hey, keep me posted on anything that comes up, okay?”
“Always, Houseman. Hey,” she said, “I hear I'm a witness.”
“Ah, yeah, I guess. But I'm not allowed to talk about that with you.”
“Sure. I think it's a crock of shit, though. He's acting like a little brat.”
“I have no oiffcial opinion,” I said, smiling in spite of myself. “I can only say I agree with you completely.”
“Gotcha.”
“Anyway, I can be reached at Hester's cell phone yet today, and Lamar has my motel number for tonight. Lake Geneva.”
“I guessed,” she said.
“Not surprised. How long did it take you?”
“Just until Lamar called you from Dispatch.” I could hear the smile in her voice.
“No secrets in Nation County,” I said.
“You got it. Oh, hey … ”
“Yeah?” I was just getting ready to break the connection.
“Did Lamar tell you he had the flu?”
“Lamar? No, not a word.”
“He's pretty sick, I think. Be ready to get recalled, Houseman. We have Norris and Willy both out, too. You might have to come back here.”
“Right.” I broke the connection this time before she could give me any more bad news. The department was now down to four effectives, counting me.
I told Hester and Harry. They thought they could get the job done without me, if it was necessary. Put it gently, though. Like Harry said, “We'll miss you at mealtime.”
The next call was to Hawkins at the local sheriff's oiffce, with Hester doing the calling. I felt I should let her use her own phone once in a while.
She told him that our man Peale had likely been in Lake Geneva until early this morning, and that he was en route to points unknown, in a car that was probably registered to Jessica Hunley. Made his day. Hawkins told her he'd put out an E-1/F-1 bulletin, immediately. That would send the data to all the Midwestern states, including Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, and Illinois. With the notation that the suspect was armed, dangerous, and wanted for questioning in a murder in Iowa.
“That ought to produce something,” I said, when she told us.
“You'd think,” said Harry.
“So, we have,” she said, and looked at her watch, “about three hours to kill before we call Jessica. Mind if I check out a couple of these antique stores?”
By closing time at 5 P.M., Hester had acquired three brass candlesticks, and I had picked up a small cinnabar vase for Sue's collection. Harry, surprisingly, had shopped very intensely, but had no luck.
“Can't find good Royal Daulton anywhere, these days.”
Apparently to cope with his disappointment, Harry also engaged one of the store owners in a conversation about the “big gray building.” Bridgett Hunley's house, of course. Everybody seemed to know it as soon as we said it looked like a large government oiffce building. The lady told Harry quite a bit of local lore about the Hunleys, replete with the veiled implication that all their money hadn't been acquired on the up and up, and ended with her assessment of Jessica.
“And she's going to inherit the whole thing,” she said. “She seems nice, but there's something about her.”
“Really,” said Harry, “I think there's 'something about' everybody who has that much money, don't you?”
“Oh, yes. I've known her … well, known of her, since she was in high school. Always able to buy her way out of any sort of trouble.”
“Those rich kids always seem to get into their share of trouble, don't they?” said Harry, sounding bemused. He was really good at that.
“Yes, they do. Can I interest you in something else?”
“No, Royal Daulton is my thing, honey.”
“That's nice,” she said. “That Jessica, she does seem to have problems with her protégés, though. For some reason.”
“Oh, really?” said Harry, with more charm than I'd seen him display since his last murder trial. “Well, young people are a little different these days.”
“They just don't last,” said the clerk. “She has one now, with really horrible hair, who's been with her the longest of any of them. Must be all of three years. I don't give her much longer, and Jessica will be ready for a new one.”
“Oh, I'm sure,” said Harry.
“She really has bad luck with them. Some just leave, I guess, but one was drowned out there in the lake, and one was killed in a car crash just about four years ago.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. One ran off with a local insurance man. Ruined his family. I truly think,” she said, very seriously, “that it must be something with dancers.”
“Oh,” said Harry, cinffding in her, “I do agree. Yes I do.”
When we got in the car, Harry was smiling all over himself. “I still got, it, don't I? Don't I? Am I fuckin' charmin' or what?”
“Uhhuh.” I agreed. “Charm the birds from the trees.”
Hester was shaking her head. “I don't care what anybody says, Harry, you can be almost human if you really, really try.”
“You really think so? You ain't just being nice, Hester? Wasn't that great?” asked Harry, of e
ither of us. “But, hey? Two deaders associated with Dirty Dan the Vampire Man? Nobody has to draw me a map of that one.”
As if to punctuate, Hester's phone rang. Hawkins. They'd checked out Hunley's home and studio. The silver 2000 Mercedes Benz SUV was nowhere to be found. Not conclusive, of course, but if Peale was in one of her two cars, and they had the BMW accounted for….
Hester thanked him, and then told him about Harry's conversation with the clerk. I couldn't hear what he said, but it took a few seconds. She said, “Right. Good. Thanks,” and broke the connection. She took a deep breath, and let it out very slowly. “This damned case just keeps going, doesn't it?”
“Seems to.” “Well,” she said, “I hope Hawkins didn't have anything planned for the next month or so.”
“We gotta be careful,” I said when she was done with her call to Hawkins. “It gives good old Jessica a really sinister cast, here. Maybe more sinister than she would ever deserve.”
Hester gave a devilish smile. “Does, doesn't it?”
Our shopping spree over, we drove to Lake Geneva proper, parked, and went sight-seeing while looking for a place to have supper. On the way, we took a walk on the enclosed bricked dock and pier, called the “Rivera.” The Rivera had a ballroom on the second floor, and who knew what on the third. Turrets, as well. A thoroughly fascinating place. We could see Bridgett Hunley's enormous home from there, kind of a complementary balance to the Rivera. There were several inboard motorboats moving about, as well as a couple of late sailing boats. Nice scenery, and it gave a little insight into the young Jessica. And just how easy it would be for somebody to “drown” in that huge lake.
We stopped and looked over the pier rail. You could see fish swimming along the sandy bottom about ten feet down. Thinking of a body down there, the calming effect you normally associate with swimming fish was somewhat reduced.
The sky was clear, the sound of the water was soothing, and there was even some color still in the trees. It was gorgeous. I savored the thought that this was the first real perk I'd had in twenty years on the job.
We grabbed supper at a little place called Speedos Harbor Side Café, across the street from the Rivera. From our table, we had a fine view of the lake. While we watched, a rescue boat came gliding smoothly to the dock we'd just left. Brought the subject of drowning to my mind again. The coincidence of a drowning and a car crash taking her partners out was a little too much to buy. Maybe one had been an authentic accident, but both?
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