Murder in Vein

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  Doug picked up the remote to the TV and turned on the sound. "The Amazing Race is starting." He settled on the sofa next to his wife. "You know, Madison, Dodie and I thought about trying out for this show. With our special powers, we'd kick ass. Show them what a couple of old farts can really do." He glanced at Madison, his former hard demeanor wiped clean. "Problem is, most of it takes place during the day. Then there's the food issue." Next to him, Dodie giggled.

  Slack jawed and shaking, Madison stared at the two of them. When she spoke, her voice trembled, barely audible over the opening credits of the TV show. "Notchey promised you wouldn't hurt me"

  Doug dragged his eyes away from the TV and looked at her with a blend of compassion and gravity. "If you betray us, Madison, and we don't kill you, you'd be tried and sentenced to death by the local vampire council. Trust me, you'd rather be killed by our hands than theirs."

  Dodie noticed the girl's terror and smiled reassuringly. "Everything's going to be fine, Madison. You'll see. Now drink your cocoa before it gets cold."

  FIVE

  odie Dedham studied the photo in the cracked, blue wooden frame before picking it up and adding it to the bag of clothes in her hand.

  "Rather a sad little place," said her husband.

  Dodie looked around Madison's tiny Culver City studio apartment. It was a single small room with one window that looked out over a parking lot. There was a kitchenette with a two-burner stove, a microwave, and several shallow cupboards separated from the rest of the room by a counter. To the right of the kitchen area was a dining alcove. Madison had used this instead for her sleeping area by cramming a twin bed, nightstand, and lamp into the space. At the foot of the bed, a squat four-drawer dresser faced out, lending some sense of separation between the bed and the rest of the room. The bed was neatly made. A short hallway between the bed and kitchen led to a tiny bathroom on one side and a full closet with sliding doors on the other. The main part of the room held an old loveseat and assemble-it-yourself end tables with more cheap lamps. Across from the loveseat was a long folding table with a rolling desk chair and a tall bookcase stuffed with books. On the table was a laptop, a printer, and more books. The computer equipment, although not the best quality, was clearly the most valuable item in the room.

  "Sad, maybe, Doug," Dodie agreed, "but not hopeless." She pointed toward the dresser that had been painted to match the sofa and the end tables. A colorful cotton dhurrie covered much of the old, worn carpet. The walls were adorned with posters of classic paintings, including those of Manet, Monet, and Georgia O'Keeffe.

  "Madison may not have much," Dodie said to Doug, "but she's made a real effort to make this into a home."

  "And she's neat as a pin," Doug observed. "Everything is spick and span." He pointed at the makeshift desk. "She also seems intent on bettering herself. Also a good sign."

  "Although," Dodie continued, "I'm rather disturbed by the lack of personal items such as photographs and keepsakes. Most young women would have snapshots of friends and family stuck here and there, wouldn't they?"

  "You'd think."

  "Did Mike say anything to you about Madison's family?"

  Doug shook his head. Even though they'd not turned on any lights, the two of them could see quite clearly in the dark, their natural habitat. "Just that she came from Idaho and had been in some trouble before she left. Nothing too serious, mostly petty theft, I believe. He didn't elaborate."

  "I checked her cell phone last night," Dodie told him. "It's a disposable. There were no recent incoming calls except one. I called it back, and it was an auto repair place. And Madison had made only a couple of outgoing calls. One to the auto place and the other to the diner where she works." Dodie pointed at the table. "Make sure you get the computer and her schoolbooks. I'm going to pull a few more things from the closet."

  Doug went to the table and started packing up the items on Madison's desk. "Let's step on it, Dodie. Samuel said he'd meet us back at our place in about an hour."

  When they reached their home, Doug and Dodie found a large black Mercedes sedan parked in front of their door. Standing nearby was Gordon, Samuel's bodyguard and driver. They nodded to the serious man with the thick neck and crew cut and made their way inside, leaving the items from Madison's apartment in their car.

  Samuel wasn't waiting in the living room as they expected, but two young women were. Slim, leggy, and gorgeous, the women, one black, the other Asian, lounged on the Dedhams' sofa dressed in expensive evening clothes. They looked bored. Both were beaters. The black woman was new to them, but the Asian woman they'd met before. Her name was Kai.

  "Kai, where's Samuel?" Doug asked.

  Kai swung her head in the direction of the stairs, her long, glossy black hair swaying like a dark curtain moved by a sudden breeze.

  Doug flew up the staircase, Dodie fast on his heels.

  Samuel La Croix was seated in a desk chair that he'd pulled close to the bed. He was leaning back, one tuxedo-clad pant leg crossed over the other, casually watching Madison sleep.

  "She looks like an angel, doesn't she?" Samuel addressed the Dedhams without taking his eyes, which were shielded by sunglasses even in the dark room, off of the sleeping young woman. "Once those bruises and cuts are gone, she'll clean up nicely."

  Dodie stepped forward. Her husband reached out and put a warning hand on her arm, keeping her from approaching further. "She's not for you, Samuel," Dodie told the vampire in the chair. Her voice, though firm, was respectful.

  Samuel La Croix turned toward the Dedhams and smiled. His smile was wide, his teeth stark and gleaming against his mahogany skin. He stood, stretched his limbs with the ease of a jungle cat, and approached the bed. With a soft touch, he ran two fingers across Madison's cheek. She didn't stir.

  "Given her something, have you?" he asked Dodie. "Making sure she slept while you two went out tonight?"

  "She was still in pain from last night," Dodie explained.

  Samuel laughed under his breath and picked up Madison's limp left hand, turning the palm toward him. He studied it, running a finger across the lifeline. "She's not one of us," he observed.

  Doug stepped forward. "No, Samuel, she's not."

  "Interesting" He paused and turned toward the Dedhams. "Haven't most of the victims been marked?"

  "Yes," Doug answered. "At least we think most, if not all, had bloodlines. But Madison doesn't. Rather shoots our original theory in the foot."

  Samuel placed Madison's hand gently back on the bed and once again studied the sleeping woman. After a moment, he moved toward Doug and Dodie in a long stride of authority.

  Placing a hand under Dodie's chin, Samuel raised her face to meet his. Nearby, Doug tensed. Samuel was much taller than Dodie but not nearly as tall as Doug. His head was bald, his jaw strong, his brow thick and serious. A pale scar raised against his dark skin like a thin, curved levee and traveled down from behind one ear, disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

  "I've always admired your courage, Dodie, and your concern for your inferiors." Samuel's voice was even, spiced with an accent of far-off places and centuries of travel. He took off his sunglasses, revealing two large milky eyes, which he fixed on Dodie. "But if I want the girl, she will be mine."

  Samuel replaced his glasses and took one last look down at Madison. "Now let's leave this sleeping beauty and go back downstairs. We have a lot to discuss before sunrise."

  SIX

  hen Madison opened her eyes, she again saw the sliver of light from across the room. She stretched in the big bed, smelled the familiar wisp of lavender, and glanced at the clock on the nightstand-8:55 in the morning. Thanks to the heavy lined drapes, the bedroom was still cloaked in inky blackness.

  When she'd gone to bed, it had been around eleven. She'd taken another pain pill-only a half dosage, though the fuzzy feeling in her head made her wonder if it had been more than half. When Dodie had offered her the medication, Madison had hesitated, but her body still ached from her assaul
t by Bobby Piper. She also decided that just in case the Dedhams were of a blood-sucking mind, she didn't want to be awake if and when they came after her. She wanted to trust them, and they were trying hard to win her over, but even with the vampire thing aside, Madison wasn't used to trusting people, dead or living.

  After a trip to the bathroom, Madison opened the drapes. She had no idea where she was, and in the shock of discovering the truth about her hosts, she'd forgotten to ask. The view outside her window showed the house was located in a woodsy area surrounded by uneven ground, as if on a hillside. Just beyond the trees at the end of the driveway, she caught sight of a road. Beyond that, she could make out the roof of another house. As she studied the view, a car went by on the road. The other building and the car soothed her. Wherever she was, it wasn't in the middle of nowhere, as she had suspected.

  Madison stretched in the sunlight, going through moves she'd learned in a yoga class. Ignoring the protests of her bruises, she enjoyed the feel of her body. No matter what was ahead, for now she was alive. She'd decided to approach her time with the Dedhams much as she did her childhood in foster care-one day at a time. Although in the case of the Dedhams, it might be one night at a time.

  During her final stretches, Madison noticed the desk chair had been moved to the side of the bed, as if someone had been watching her sleep. She'd had a dream about a man, a very dark man, watching over her. When he'd touched her in the dream, she'd been both thrilled and terrified. Madison moved the chair back to the desk. Dodie had probably come in to make sure she was all right, but Madison still found it slightly disturbing.

  Something else was different. On the desk was a laptop and a stack of books. Not just any books, but her schoolbooks, along with a few other books she'd had in her apartment. The laptop was hers, too. Her eyes swept the room and came to rest on the dresser. On the top of the dresser were neatly folded clothes that also looked familiar. She crossed the large room and fingered the articles, instantly recognizing several pairs of her jeans and various sweaters and tee shirts. There was also a plastic bag filled with her personal cosmetics and toiletries, including her hairbrush and comb. Then her eye snagged on two other recognizable items.

  Half hidden by the pile of clothing was Pookie, a raggedy stuffed kitten, and a photograph in a blue wooden frame. It was a photo of a very young Madison with her mother. Leaning against the frame was a folded piece of stationery monogrammed with a stylized D at the top. With a shaking hand, Madison picked up the paper. It was a note from Dodie. The handwriting was clean and precise.

  We thought you'd be more comfortable with some of your own things. There are a few more in the closet. Your lingerie is in the dresser.

  Madison yanked open the top dresser drawer to find an assortment of her panties, bras, and socks. Dashing to the closet, she flung open the doors. Neatly hanging from wooden hangers were the only two pairs of dress pants she owned, a few blouses, and a dress. On the floor of the closet were a couple pairs of her shoes, including her favorite boots.

  Returning to the dresser, Madison picked up the photo and studied it as tears ran down her cheeks. She traced the outline of her mother's face. She'd died when Madison was five years old. The stuffed kitten was the last thing she'd given Madison before her death.

  Madison put down the photo and picked up the stuffed animal. Clutching it to her chest, she slipped back into bed and buried her head in a pillow, sobbing until she was too exhausted to cry anymore.

  It was nearly ten by the time Madison showered and went downstairs dressed in her own clothing. Much to her surprise, the drapes were open and the house was flooded with sunshine. She heard noise coming from the kitchen and headed in that direction.

  Bustling around the kitchen was a squat African-American woman with long, braided hair. The mixture of black and gray in her hair gave it the appearance of a tweed veil. She wore gray leggings and a long tunic sweater the color of a ripe banana. An apron was tied around her thick waist. Her feet were stuck into white Keds. The woman's back was to Madison. She was humming a tune that sounded like church music.

  Madison cleared her throat before speaking so she would not scare the woman. "Are you Pauline?"

  The woman turned around, not surprised at all. She appeared to be in her fifties, with a broad face, high cheekbones, and small, sharp bird eyes. "That's me-Pauline Speakes. And you must be young Miss Madison." The woman eyed Madison up and down without apology. "Thought you were going to sleep the day away, but now that I see that black eye and those cuts, I'm not surprised."

  Madison self-consciously touched the bandage on the side of her face. "Dodie gave me a pain pill last night. Those things knock me on my ass."

  "Hmmm" Pauline crossed her arms and stared at Madison. "You need to know right off, I don't take to girls with potty mouths."

  Madison started to say something coarse in retort, but one look at Pauline cautioned her not to pick the fight. "I'll remember that," she said instead.

  "Good, that's getting off on the right foot. Now, what would you like for breakfast?"

  Madison shrugged.

  "Speak up, girl," Pauline told her. "Dodie had me pick up a few things on my way in today. Things like eggs and bread, some pouches of tuna-stuff like that. She said you drink 2% milk with your Honey Nut Cheerios, that right?"

  "How did she know?" Madison asked, then remembered her personal items upstairs. "Of course, they went to my apartment, didn't they?"

  "Seems so. Shall it be cereal, then?"

  When Madison nodded, Pauline went to a cupboard and retrieved a bowl. From a drawer she pulled out a spoon. "The cereal's in that cupboard," she said, pointing to one near the refrigerator.

  Madison went to the cupboard and found a fresh box of her favorite cereal. The pantry was well stocked, though most items appeared newly purchased. After grabbing the box from the cupboard and milk from the refrigerator, she took a seat at the kitchen table, where Pauline had placed the bowl and spoon. In the middle of the table was a large bowl of fresh fruit.

  "Where am I?" Madison ventured as she poured cereal into her bowl. Even as she asked the question, it sounded lame to her.

  Pauline turned from the sink to face her. "You mean geographically?"

  Madison nodded and added milk to the bowl. "With everything that's happened, I forgot to ask. Kind of stupid of me, I know."

  "This house is in Topanga Canyon. You know where that is?"

  Again, Madison nodded.

  Pauline went to the refrigerator, pulled out a container of juice, and poured two glasses. She put one in front of Madison and the other in front of another seat at the table. Pauline settled herself in the chair by the juice.

  "Seems like now would be a good time to go over some house rules," she told Madison. "First off, I'm not here to wait on you. Got that?"

  Madison jabbed her spoon into her cereal. "I wouldn't expect you to."

  "You take care of your room. Pick up after yourself. Make your own bed."

  "It's already made." Madison popped the first spoonful of cereal into her mouth and chewed, being careful of her split lip. It was delicious. She'd not eaten much the day before except for soup and a couple of cookies, and she was famished. She shoveled another bite in on the heels of the first.

  "Mrs. D said you were neat. Glad to hear it." Pauline took a drink of juice and watched the girl. "Secondly, you have the run of the house except for the Dedhams' master suite. That doesn't mean you can go snooping around or anything like that, but you're not restricted on where you can go-except for their room. The master suite is at the end of the hallway, down from your room. There are two small bedrooms that share a bath across the hall from your room. Mrs. D uses one for a kind of sewing or craft room. She loves to do handwork-knitting, needlepoint, anything with a hook or needle. The other room is empty except for a bed and dresser. Down here, there's the living room, dining room, den, and a small study Mr. D uses. There are lots of books in there. I've heard you like to read, so help
yourself, just don't disturb Mr. D's paints. He likes to dabble in oils. It's the only messy place in the entire house." The last sentence was spoken with frustration mixed with pride.

  "Don't worry," Madison told her between bites. "I'm used to living in other people's homes." When Pauline gave her a quizzical look, she added, "I grew up in foster care. Five different places between the ages of eight and eighteen"

  Again, Pauline quietly studied Madison, taking her measure. Dodie Dedham had seen something special in the girl. She'd told Pauline so this morning when she arrived, just before Dodie had gone to bed. Dodie had specifically waited up to talk to her about Madison.

  Pauline got up from the table and moved to the sink. She pointed out the window. "Out back there's a lap pool, hot tub, and large patio. The pool's heater isn't on, so you might not want to use it this time of year. The Dedhams both love to swim, but the cold don't bother them any."

  "Doesn't matter. I don't have a swimsuit."

  "I'm sure I can find you one of Mrs. D's if you want to go into the hot tub. Nothing sexy, but it should do."

  Madison finished her cereal but stayed at the table, wiping her mouth with the paper napkin Pauline had provided along with the spoon. "So the house and the patio, that's it?"

  Pauline moved away from the window. From a set of wooden key pegs by the back door, she removed a set of keys and brought them to the table. She dropped them in front of Madison with a discordant clang. Madison immediately recognized that they were her keys.

  "The Dedhams wanted me to tell you that you're no prisoner here. You can go anytime, but they think it best you listen to them and stay, at least for a few days. So do I."

  Remembering what Doug had told her the night before about the killings and the person impersonating a vampire, Madison fought the urge to grab her keys and run for the door. So far, the Dedhams had treated her decently-better than most everyone else in her life had treated her to date, except for her mother and her great aunt Eleanor.