Turned (Zander Vargar Vampire Detective, Book #1)

by Kennedy, J. Robert

  “Mrs. McKinly. Janice.”

  I tossed a slight look of disappointment on my face, letting her think the Mrs. part of her name bothered me.

  “And how can we help you Mrs. McKinly?”

  “I want you to find my husband.”

  Interesting. Usually it was, “I want you to prove my husband is cheating on me.” Finding a missing husband, that was rare.

  “How long has he been missing?”

  “Five days.”

  “Business trip?”

  “He never leaves town without his suit bag. All of his luggage is still at home, and I called his office, they don’t know where he is either.”

  “Mistress?”

  “I’d cut his balls off and he knows it.”

  “Vacation you forgot about? Vegas with the boys?”

  “He’s free to do what he wants, he just has to have the courtesy to tell me. And he always has. None of his friends know where he is either. But…”

  Her voice trailed off and she looked away.

  “What is it?” I reached out and touched the arm of the chair she was sitting in, but not her. “You need to tell us everything if we’re to help you. No matter how embarrassing. It won’t leave this room.”

  She nodded, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Very well.” I noticed her knuckles go white as she gripped the arms of the chair tighter. “Every Tuesday and Thursday night he goes bowling. He has for years. For as long as I’ve known him in fact. He goes with friends from college, from before I knew him.” She wrung her hands, as if searching for the words. She looked at me. “I know this will sound horrible, I’m not really like that, but, well, they’re not exactly in our social circle. My husband—”

  “Whose name is?”

  “Clayton.”

  I saw Sydney’s fingers fly silently over the iPad screen as she took notes. “Please continue.”

  “Well, I called Clayton’s bowling buddies when he went missing, and they told me that he hadn’t been bowling with them in almost a year.”

  “Huh.” I looked at her. “And you still think he wasn’t having an affair?”

  She hesitated this time, perhaps not as confident as she was only minutes before, now that this revelation had been admitted. “No, no I don’t.” She stopped. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. You’d have to know him. He’s just not the type. He’s sweet. He’s committed. His idea of a good time is to sit on the couch and watch a movie. He doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t do drugs. An outing for us is a dinner party, a nice restaurant, or a movie.”

  “Is that your idea of a good time?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess. During the day I go hang out with my girlfriends, go to the spa, shop, whatever. I used to be a partier, and occasionally we have a girls’ night out, but it’s just all in good fun.”

  “And on these girls’ nights, anything go on that you wouldn’t want your husband to know about?”

  She blushed.

  Bingo!

  “So something did happen?”

  Her head hung, the shame clearly recognizable.

  She nodded.

  “What?”

  “It was a one-time thing. It never happened before or since.”

  “What never happened?”

  She sucked in a lungful of air and held it. “I slept with another man.”

  I caught Sydney’s head pop up and saw her fingers stop for a moment, then return to their silent tapping. “Details.”

  Mrs. McKinly looked everywhere but at me. “Well, we went to this new club that one of my friends had heard about. Some Goth place. We got all dressed up in black, black lipstick, nail polish, the works. I even wore a black wig for the hell of it. It was just for fun, to be someone else for a night, to cut loose and have a few drinks, maybe smoke a cigarette or two. Well, we went there, and these guys sent drinks over to us, and one of my friends, Krista, waved them over to join us.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe she did that. Well, these three guys come over and sit with us, and we start to chat.”

  “How many of you were there?”

  “Just the three of us. Me, Krista and Penny.”

  “And how long have you known them?”

  “About a year. I met them at the gym.”

  “And they were friends before?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you seem to hit it off right away?”

  “Yes, yes we did.” She stopped. “Why? You’re not suggesting they had anything to do with this, are you? Because that would be ridiculous!”

  I shook my head. “I ask lots of questions, just to fill in the blanks. Most are unimportant, but they save time. Please continue.”

  “Well, you see, it was like this.” Again she stopped, and looked around her, then at the floor. “Krista and Penny began to get rather fresh with these guys, starting making out, and”—she stopped and stared right at me—“and those two are married! I couldn’t believe it! They oughta be ashamed of themselves!”

  “And you did what?”

  “Well, I didn’t. But God it was hard. This guy was sooo good looking, very smooth talker, as if he’d been doing this for decades, but still looked only about thirty. He kept buying me drinks, and with all the heavy petting going on in the booth, I felt myself begin to let go, and the next thing I knew, we were kissing, then ended up in the bathroom together. I had asked him to leave with me, to go to a hotel, but he said he couldn’t leave.” She looked at me. “It was kind of weird, but I didn’t pay too much attention. I was drunk, and worked up.” Her head dropped again and she sighed. “It was stupid. I still can’t believe I did it. If I didn’t know better, I would say I was drugged.”

  “And you haven’t seen him since?”

  “No.”

  “What about Krista and Penny?”

  She looked up at me. “No. I even stopped going to that gym. I was too embarrassed.” She raised her head and her voice. “And it was their damned fault for taking me there and making out with those guys.”

  “Did they sleep with their partners?”

  She stopped, then said slowly, “I don’t know.” She thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, when I came out of the bathroom, they were all gone.”

  “And you’re sure your husband never knew?”

  “No, he was bowling that night. I got home and he was already asleep.”

  “And when did this happen?”

  “About a year ago.”

  “So about the same time your husband quit bowling.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “So perhaps he did find out about what you had done, and decided that if you cheated on him, then he could cheat on you.”

  Her mouth remained open, then snapped shut.

  “That little bastard! I’m going to kill him!”

  Sydney gave me a look, indicating she caught the double-standard too.

  “Perhaps he ran off with this other woman?”

  But she was still off on her tangent of indignation. “I’ll divorce the sonofabitch, I’ll take him for every damned penny he’s worth.”

  “And is he worth a lot?”

  “Millions. Tens of millions. He’s a venture capitalist. Raises money for startups, invests himself sometimes.”

  “Do you work?”

  Her head jerked back and eyebrows shot up. “Would you?”

  I smiled. “I don’t like to be a kept man.”

  “I’ll have you know I’m not a kept woman!” Her cheeks flushed. “I’m not a gold digger.”

  I put my hands out to calm her down. “I never suggested you were. Kids?”

  “No.”

  “Really? That’s odd.”

  “Is it nowadays?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “If America expects to stay American, it’s people like you who need to have the kids.”

  “I suppose, but the truth is he has two kids from a previous marriage, but he doesn’t see them. She moved and he hasn’t seen them since. She won’t
even let him talk to them.”

  “That’s awful!” I looked at Sydney, admonishing her silently for her outburst. She buried her head in her iPad again.

  Mrs. McKinly nodded. “It is. He sends money, so at least he knows they’re taken care of. Hopefully when they’re adults he can see them.”

  “How old are they?”

  “Sixteen and fourteen. Both boys.”

  “And where are they now?”

  “Detroit.”

  I nodded. I really didn’t want to go back there, not so soon, but I might have to. “Could he have reconciled?”

  “Not a chance. She’s apparently remarried.”

  “Okay, just a few more housekeeping things, then I think we can start.” I turned to look for a pad of paper and pen when Sydney waved me off and found them for me, handing them to Mrs. McKinly. “I’ll need you to write down your husband’s full name, date and place of birth, Social Security Number—”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a sheath of papers. “I’ve written down everything I could think of that you might need.” She handed them to me and I quickly scanned the pages. They had everything I had asked for, plus his work address, his bowling buddies, his ex-wife’s info, kids’ names. Pretty much everything I was going to need about him, but nothing about her.

  “I’ll need Krista and Penny’s contact info too.”

  “You’re going to talk to them?”

  She seemed horrified. “It could be just a coincidence, but I think it needs to be checked out.”

  She nodded, taking the pad and pen, writing down their names. “I don’t have their numbers anymore.”

  “Just write down the name of the gym. I’ll track them from that. Or if you know where they worked.”

  She nodded, quickly jotting down some more info.

  “And I’ll need your particulars. Full name, date and place of birth, etcetera.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “I need to be able to look into your past, just to see if someone might be out to hurt you through him.”

  She frowned, but the pen danced across the page.

  “And I assume you’ve reported this to the police?”

  She nodded and pointed at the papers she had handed me. “The detective’s name and the case number are in there.”

  “Great!” I stood up, signaling the end of the interview. “I think we have all we need.”

  She looked a little flustered.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, how much do you charge?”

  “Trust me, ma’am. Judging from the jewels you’re wearing, you can afford my rates.”

  “Yes, but—” She paused.

  I sat back down.

  “There’s something you haven’t told me.” And this was what I had been waiting for the entire time. Why would a woman with so much money come to a private dick like me, in a shady part of town? To avoid embarrassment? Perhaps, but the high-end detectives were very discrete, and any one of the myriad of lawyers she probably had at her disposal could have directed her to one. No, there was something else going on here.

  She nodded, wringing her hands. “They’ve frozen our bank accounts.”

  Meal ticket, gone.

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “They won’t tell me. I just discovered it yesterday. They said there’s some sort of SEC investigation, and all of our assets have been frozen until Clayton is cleared.”

  “Securities and Exchange Commission?” The SEC were the stock market watchdogs. If they were investigating, then they obviously suspected her husband was committing some sort of fraud. I looked her in the eyes. “Well, now we have an entirely different motive for him to disappear.”

  She looked away, nodding. “But I don’t think that’s it.”

  “Why not?”

  “The bowling. Why would he stop going to his bowling night? Don’t you steal money while the markets are open?”

  “It’s a global market now. He could do it anytime. But you’re right, it doesn’t fit.” I handed her the pad and paper. “Who can we talk to at your husband’s company about this?”

  “Ian. He’d probably help. He’s Clayton’s partner and has always been sweet on me. His name is in the papers I gave you.”

  “Okay.” I pointed at a diamond bracelet she was wearing. “How attached are you to that?”

  She looked at it, then shrugged her shoulders, unclasping it. She handed it over. “It’s worth at least ten thousand.”

  I placed it on my desk. “I’ll lock it in the safe and keep it as collateral. We’ll settle up when I’ve found your husband, or I’ve reached ten grand of time and expenses. As long as I don’t have to travel, that’ll cover you for a couple of weeks.”

  She nodded, and rose, extending her hand. I shook it, and escorted her to the outer door. “If you hear anything else, think of anything you haven’t told us, call me.” I handed her a business card. She nodded and closed the door without saying anything.

  I turned to Sydney and smiled.

  “We’re in the money, we’re in the money!” I sang, leaning back and shaking my shoulders.

  She shook her head.

  “Sometimes you’re soooo three hundred.”

  ELEVEN

  “So, are you thinking the same thing I’m thinking?”

  “Probably not.”

  I chuckled. Sometimes I had to remember Sydney was only nineteen. She seemed so much older, the responsibility put on her by her mother’s accident forcing her to grow up far quicker than she should have. I had even said to her mom that it was too soon, but Theresa had insisted that Sydney was ready.

  It turned out she was right.

  The past year that she had been working here fulltime had gone very smoothly. And last night’s incident had proven she was fully capable of protecting herself.

  And killing me if necessary.

  I shivered. It had been close.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just remembering last night when you almost had to take me out.”

  She looked away, as if ashamed. “I’m sorry about that.”

  I squeezed her neck then returned my hand to the back of the couch. “Not your fault. If you have to stake me, you stake me. Never hesitate.”

  She nodded. “I know. Still. Well. Whatever.” She shrugged and stared at her iPad. “You were saying?”

  I took the hint and moved on. “Didn’t that club she went to, the Goth club, sound an awful lot like where I was last night?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t see inside, so I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I’m willing to bet you a hundred bucks that not only did she go to the same club, that the guy she had sex with was a vampire.”

  “You don’t have a hundred bucks.”

  I spun the diamond bracelet around my index finger. “Na-ah, you’re forgetting this.”

  “Probably paste.”

  I stopped twirling it and frowned. “You don’t think—” I jumped up and stepped over to the office door, scraping one of the diamonds against the glass. It cut. “Nope, real.”

  “Then I’ll take that bet.”

  “Easy money.”

  “Just take it out of the wages you haven’t paid me in two weeks.”

  A grin spread across half my face. “And I appreciate your patience.”

  “Why is it, that you’re the only broke vampire in existence?”

  “I had it all in Enron?”

  “Right.”

  “Maybe I’m just bad with money?”

  “You seem to always be able to travel whenever you need to.”

  My eyes narrowed as I looked at her. Was she ready for the truth? She was young. Younger than all the rest. But they had all learned when they began to work for me, but they had all learned from their mothers. Not me. But her mother had gone into a coma, and apparently either before she had a chance to tell Sydney everything, or she too wasn’t sure if Sydney was ready.

  How do you te
ll someone they are unbelievably wealthy?

  I had money. A lot. Nearly a hundred million by now. It was almost impossible to be poor for long as a vampire. Even if you just put a few hundred a month away, after hundreds of years it added up. And I had recognized this early. If I were going to be able to hunt down those who had killed my beloved Kristyna, I would need money, but it was hard to come by in the early days. But in the early eighteen hundreds I had a lucky break as it were, receiving a huge reward from Napoleon Bonaparte himself for saving his life. And rather than go on a drunken binge, I hid it away, and lived off it frugally as I tracked my prey. And when opportunities were opened up to the common man, I used it to buy interests in businesses, mines, railroads, oil fields. Just small stakes, nothing to attract attention, and always exited within twenty years tops. I didn’t always win, but I won enough to never have to worry again. Now I just parked the money in various institutions, earning interest rates only the rich could enjoy, and it had allowed me to do something for Rose and her descendants.

  “I think it’s time you saw something.”

  She looked at me funny.

  I stood up and went to the safe, removing a USB key. I tossed it to her. “The password is—”

  “Kristyna,” she said, sticking the key into her iPad.

  “How’d you know?”

  “All your passwords are ‘Kristyna’. You really need to change that.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Nobody knows her name but you, your mother, and your grandmother.”

  She typed in the password. “What am I looking at?”

  “Open the spreadsheet called ‘holdings’.”

  She tapped the screen and gasped.

  “What am I looking at?” she repeated, this time in a whisper.

  “That’s how I fund this vast empire,” I said, extending my arms, indicating the threadbare office.

  “But, but.” She stopped and looked up at me. “There’s millions, tens of millions. You’re rich!”

  I nodded.

  “Then why do you live like this?”

  “Well, if a rich man disappears, people look for him. When a private detective closes up shop, nobody even bats an eye. I live under the radar, you know that. Money attracts attention. Living like this”—I spun my hand at the office—“lets me keep a low profile, move when I need to, travel when I need to. I always have enough money on hand to quickly move, and mechanisms in place to liquefy my assets and set up shop somewhere else.”