by E G Bateman
He handed her a framed photograph of the couple on a vacation—a happy, smiling African American man with his loving white wife. “Could it be racially motivated?”
“They’ve been married for thirty years. The neighbors say they haven’t had that kind of trouble for at least ten.”
Lexi handed him the picture. “And the wife?”
Broullard shook his head. “She hasn’t been seen but she had a key to Jamal’s apartment.”
She immediately followed what she suspected was the detective’s train of thought. “You think this housekeeper could have let herself in when the two of them baked and butchered Jamal. Then Amy woke from a drug-addled stupor and found her boyfriend scrambled?”
“Spatchcocked. It looks like the most likely scenario. Simply because they were practicing voodoo at the time doesn’t mean that caused his death.”
“Okay…so you think she then came home and decapitated her husband.” She peered into the little vanity sink at a blood-covered steak knife. “With a steak knife? This can’t possibly be the murder weapon.” She glanced at the body. “I’ll admit it’s not the cleanest cut but I’m sure you’d have to be built like Arnie to take someone’s head off with an old steak knife.”
They walked down the hall past piles upon piles of boxes that lined the wall. “What’s all this?” Lexi asked and gestured at them.
“Stolen goods. It appears Mr. and Mrs. Jackson had a little side business—actually, I think they had a few side businesses. This stuff is everywhere. Games consoles, iPhones, there’s a foot-high pile of counterfeit currency in the bedroom, a stash of narcotics in the kitchen, and we found an undocumented illegal in the back bedroom who says she hasn’t left the building for over a year. They didn’t treat her very well.”
Her brows drew together in puzzlement. “Why did the wife work as a cleaner? No, let me guess, it was part of their victim selection process.”
“Again, correct.”
“Is there any indication they practiced voodoo?” She poked around the shelves and looked at him when he didn’t respond. He looked from her to the wall, his expression a little sarcastic.
She turned and noticed the large painting of Marie Laveau on the wall.
“Oh, right. Duh.” She stepped to the window and looked out, then turned to the door. “Where the hell is Scott?”
“I told them not to let him in. I don’t want him puking all over the crime scene again.”
“Fair enough.” She nodded. “Listen, we’ll have to speak to Amy. We’ll go in the morning if that’s okay with you.”
Broullard stared at her for a few seconds. “I must say I like this whole new Kindred approach. It’s much easier to work with.”
Don’t get used to it.
He took a notepad out, scribbled a few lines, and ripped the page out to hand it to her. “That’s the hospital room.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll head off now. I’d like to get a couple of hours of sleep.” She headed down the staircase to where Scott waited for her.
He shrugged dramatically. “They wouldn’t let me in.”
Lexi squeezed past the cop on the door. “You don’t look disappointed about that.”
“I’m not. I don’t like to see the evil things people do to each other.”
“You and me both.” She took her cell out and read the screen. “Dick has a theory.”
“About what?”
She shrugged. “Who knows. I won’t ask.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s being intentionally vague,” she snipped as she put the cellphone in her pocket again.
Betsy was asleep on the couch when they returned. Her eyes opened sleepily as Scott closed the door.
He winced. “Sorry. I tried not to disturb you.”
She sat quickly. “It’s all right. What time is it?”
Lexi consulted the clock. “A little after three. Don’t tell me Dick’s dinner is still in there.”
“I have no idea. I decided to rest my eyes and dropped off immediately.”
Marcel jumped off a chair, ran to the door, and sat beside it as he yipped sharply.
“I’ll take him.” Lexi took the lead from the table.
“I’ll accept your offer of the other bed.” Betsy headed to the second bedroom and the younger woman opened the front door.
When she and Marcel entered the hallway, she considered knocking on Dick’s door. She was less than impressed that he’d left Betsy feeling like she couldn’t go back to the apartment.
When they reached the stairway, the puppy darted up the first two steps leading to the roof access and ate something from the floor. She tried to wrestle it from his mouth and realized it was popcorn. “You don’t mind floor food, do you, boy?” She turned to walk down but he whined and stared upward. “There’s no more, come on.” She pulled him away and he followed reluctantly.
Lexi woke to a welcome smell. She crept over Scott, leaned down beside his ear, and whispered, “Bacon.”
His eyes snapped open and he sniffed before he flung the covers back. They walked out to find Betsy cooking.
“I’m sorry. I tried to be quiet. You’ve only had about three hours.”
The sorcerer rubbed his eyes and gave her a full, dimple-popping grin. “Bacon.”
Marcel ran to the door and whined.
Lexi looked at the plateful of bacon, then at the dog. “Do you think he’d go on the balcony?”
The other woman guffawed. “I’m sure the people below us would be delighted.”
She crouched beside the puppy. “I’ll take you after breakfast.”
The two friends sat at the dining table, ready to tuck into bacon, eggs, and biscuits. Scott tore a piece of bacon in half and gave it to Marcel.
“I made some for him too. I’ll get his bowl.” Betsy picked her apartment key up from the counter and headed across the hall.
Thirty seconds later, she returned, her expression anxious. “I think something’s wrong.”
The others stood quickly and hurried across the hall. The older woman remained at the back and pulled the door almost closed to stop Marcel from following.
Lexi put her head in. “Dick?”
Betsy peeked around Scott. “He’s not there. I looked in all the rooms.”
She nodded acknowledgment, passed the dining table, and stood with her hands on the back of the couch as she stared at the upturned bowl and the popcorn spread across the floor. “It looks like there might have been a struggle. Even if there wasn’t, Dick’s a neat freak. There’s no way he’d leave it like this.”
They turned at a shuffling sound. Betsy hadn’t closed the other apartment door properly and Marcel had managed to work it open with his nose. He raced down the hallway.
Scott ran after him. “No!” He vanished and reappeared ahead of the puppy to block his way down the stairs.
The two women raced from the apartment after them. Instead of trying to run down the stairs, however, the dog spun and moved up. Lexi found him at the door to the roof where he scratched and whined. She remembered the popcorn on the stairs and looked at Scott while she drew her short-sword. When she was armed, she nodded for her friend to release the lock.
They stepped out into the morning sunlight and stopped in shock. Dick was hogtied with heavy chains and lay on the roof between a folded sun lounger and an AC unit. Marcel bounded to him and licked his face but he was out cold. Scott spoke a word and the chains shattered. He lifted the man in his arms. “I’ll take him downstairs,” he said before they both disappeared.
“Oh!” Betsy jumped. Marcel ran in circles and scratched at the roof where Dick had been, then lifted his leg and peed against the door before he bolted down the stairs.
The older woman turned to Lexi. “Can you disappear like that?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, we have to go the long way.”
Scott had placed Dick on the couch in his apartment when the women entered. “Where are his blood bags?”
Betsy went to the fri
dge, then returned to Scott’s side. “He uses these tubes.”
The sorcerer took the bag and tube from her. “Doesn’t this gross you out?”
The woman smiled. “I prefer a good chardonnay.” She stroked the vampire’s hair. “Will he be all right?”
“He hasn’t desiccated so he’s still with us. That’s all I can tell you at the moment.” He pierced the opening of the bag with the tube and fed it into Dick’s mouth. He gave the bag a slight squeeze. They watched anxiously and after a few moments, he swallowed.
Lexi stood behind the couch while her friend hovered and squeezed the blood patiently into his mouth until his eyes fluttered open. Betsy crouched closer to him and put her hand on Dick’s shoulder. “I think he’s trying to speak.”
Scott pulled the tube from his lips and they both leaned closer to listen.
The vampire put his hand over Betsy’s. “Could you ask Lexi to stop licking my feet?”
They looked at Marcel, who stood on his hind legs with his paws on the arm of the couch, licking his feet.
Lexi rolled her eyes and went to pick the dog up but he dodged her and started on the popcorn strewn on the floor. “What happened to Mike?”
“Mike? Oh, Peter.” Dick sighed. “I think they killed him.” He sat stiffly. “I intend to obliterate them.”
Betsy squeezed his hand and left the room.
He checked his watch, then looked around the room. “They took my shoes but not my watch?” Baffled, he shook his head.
She walked to the couch and tapped Dick’s feet. He shifted them to the floor and she sat. “Who were they?”
“They mentioned someone called Lorenzo. I don’t know who that is yet. They filled Peter with drugs without him knowing. I can’t believe the poor man’s gone and it’s my fault.”
Lexi frowned. “You seem to have grown attached to him remarkably quickly. How is it your fault?”
“Do you know about the exchange?”
She raised her eyebrow. “You mean the illegal blood exchange?”
The vampire stood. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist. Remember, you’re only pretending to be Kindred. The blood exchange is considered a great honor. Offering one is tantamount to adoption. If anything—by which I mean death—happens to the donor while they have vampire blood in them, they will be reborn.” He checked the time again. “I need to get changed.” He walked into the bedroom.
Confused, she continued to speak to him from outside the room. “So, you did or didn’t offer this to Peter?”
“I didn’t. Honestly, at first, I thought he was a dud. Then it transpired he’s a fan of my movies. Such a charming, well-educated young man.” He returned in a dark-red velvet dressing gown.
“Which explains this.” She picked the DVD case up from the table.
Betsy entered the room with a margarita. “Ah! One of my absolute favorite movies.”
“But I die at the end of it. Why is it everyone’s favorite?” He looked at the glass. “Isn’t it a little early for that?”
“It’s for you. I thought you might need it.” She held the glass out.
He took it, held her hand, and kissed it. “Betsy darling, I will love you until I die…again.”
She blushed.
He straightened and held a finger in the air, tilted his head, and listened. “They’re back.” Before anyone could ask who he meant, he was gone.
Lexi rolled her eyes and followed.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Lorenzo told us to lock him up here and stay away.”
“He doesn’t need to know we came back.”
“What’s the point in going out there to clean the dust up? It’s probably blown away.”
“Vamp dust has a street value.”
“People snort that shit?”
“Not like that. The voodoo stores might buy it.”
“It’s the big key. Do you want me to do it?”
“No, it isn’t locked. Who was supposed to lock it last night?”
“Charlie.” The voice responded a little too quickly and noticeably higher in pitch.
“Idiot.”
“Well, the vacuum cleaner makes sense now.”
“Time to suck up a nice little profit.”
The two men stepped through the door onto the roof of the apartment building and looked around.
“It looks different in the day. I don’t remember the sun lounger over there or the robe.”
They walked across the roof.
“I don’t see any dust. Maybe the wind blew it—”
The door slammed shut and the men spun to face Dick, who held a margarita and wore nothing but a tiny pair of Versace baroque briefs. “Gentlemen, let’s talk.”
The skinny guy dropped the vacuum cleaner, ran to the edge of the roof, and jumped. He screamed briefly.
The vampire stared after him before he turned to the remaining man. “But there are balconies at the front. Why on earth did he run to the back of the building?” He shrugged.
The stocky guy moved to draw a gun.
He closed the space between them in a second, grasped him by the throat, and held him several inches off the roof by the time the gun was in his hand and free of his pocket. “Let’s talk about Lorenzo.”
“He said you were a vamp. He’ll kill me if I talk.”
“You don’t seem to have fully grasped your current situation. Let me help you with that.” He lowered his captive, pulled his face close, and allowed his vampire teeth to descend inches from the man’s eyes.
The gun clattered onto the rooftop.
“But it’s daylight. I… What? We were only doing what we were told to.” His voice had climbed several octaves as the toe of his boots scraped the surface of the roof.
Dick lifted him higher. “You poisoned Peter to poison me.”
The man squeaked a terrified protest. “That’s what Lorenzo told us to do.”
He lowered him to stand on the roof but kept his hand about the man’s throat. “And Lorenzo is?”
“He leads one of the clans.”
The vampire frowned in thought. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“He took over a few years ago from Giovanni.”
“I liked Giovanni.” He sighed. “Where is Peter?”
“We…” The man seemed to feel the need to rethink his answer. “Lorenzo told us to throw him in a dumpster. We… Lorenzo gave him enough of that stuff to—”
“Fell an ox. I heard.” He tightened his hold on the man’s windpipe. “It’s very difficult, these days, to find an actual fan of my work, and you killed him. I have to say, I’m very upset. And where are my Christian Louboutins?”
“That’s Lorenzo’s…thing. He asks…for the…shoes.” The man’s face purpled slightly, and his breathing was shallow and gasping around the obstruction.
Lexi stepped out from where she had watched.
The captive beat a fist against the vampire’s arm and pointed behind him.
Dick released his hold fractionally.
“He was going to kill me.” The man stared beseechingly at her.
With a withering smile, he hoisted him again. “What do you mean, ‘was?’”
“You can’t kill me in front of Kindred,” the man protested and kicked wildly. “They won’t let you.”
She leaned against the door. “Well…no, actually, I’m okay with it. Maybe you should tell him where his number-one fan is.”
“In a dumpster on Conti Street—where they’re fixing the old hotel up.”
Lexi had taken a little knife out and cleaned her nails with it. “And why does Lorenzo want my friend here dead?”
“I don’t know. He only told us to do it, not why.” His face faded from purple hues to a bright red.
Dick dropped him on the roof and turned to her, about to speak. The guy scrambled to his feet and ran in the opposite direction to the one his friend had taken, straight off the building, and screamed.
She looked after him. “Why didn’t h
e jump off the front where the balconies are?”
The vampire shrugged. “I think I might have somehow given him the impression the front of the building was that way. Did Scott catch the first one?”
The sorcerer came through the door. “He landed on our balcony. Betsy almost had a heart attack. I sent him to sleep. Did you get what you needed from the other one?” Scott looked around for the second man, then shrugged. “If you’re done here, I’ll go get rid of him.” He disappeared.
“Don’t you think it might be best to leave Peter where he is?” Lexi wandered to the back of the building and looked down with a grimace. “That guy won’t get up again.”
Dick took a sip of his cocktail. “I owe it to the young man to find him and return him to his family.”
“Excuse me?”
“Also, whilst I didn’t offer an exchange, if he was drinking with Lorenzo or one of his clan, it’s quite possible he was given vampire blood before coming to me.”
“You’re telling me it’s still possible that Peter could turn?”
“Honestly, I doubt it. I don’t think he was lying to me and he didn’t seem used to socializing with us. If he were, he wouldn’t have offered himself to the sanguinaires. The clans prefer to keep their supplies to themselves. They take traceability in the supply chain very seriously. But if he did exchange with another vampire, we don’t want him to wake up hungry in the middle of a populated area tonight. That could be bad.”
“I can see that.” Lexi looked at her watch. “It’s still early. I might be able to get over there before the city gets going.”
Dick marched toward the door, but she put a hand out. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I thought we—”
“There is no we. You need to keep a low profile. Walking through the French Quarter in daylight wearing nothing but…” She squinted at him and all but shuddered. “Wearing really tiny briefs won’t help.”
“These briefs were three hundred dollars. They should be seen.” He sighed. “Fine, I’ll get dressed, but I’m coming.”
He vanished, and in the time it took her to descend one floor, he was waiting in jeans and a hoodie.
Lexi raised her eyebrows. “You own a hoodie?”