Fiona Frost: Order of the Black Moon

by Dr. Bon Blossman

  “Who’s the hottie that keeps staring at you like a stalker?” Lauren whispered from across the table as she gestured secretly towards my black suit.

  “That’s Fiona’s assigned federal stalker,” Maddie whispered, laughing. “I figured you, of all people, would take notice of his appearance.”

  Maddie burst into a fit of quiet laughter. Lauren was the boy-crazy member of our club. She was the first to make her opinions known about attractive boys, especially older ones. I gave her leeway on this observation, as I had to agree wholeheartedly with her.

  “With Gerald Smith on the loose and wanting to get my dad, they’re watching my family until they catch him. They don’t think it will be too long, he’s not that smart.”

  Lauren leaned forward, clearing her throat.

  “They couldn’t have picked a hotter agent to follow you—I think I might come over to your house tonight and hang wit’cha.”

  “Um, he’s probably about twenty-five. Gross,” Maddie countered, smiling.

  “G’morning girls. Can I get you something to drink to start?” a busty bleach-blonde waitress asked as she held a pen to her notepad.

  We ordered our drinks and explained to the waitress we would wait for the detective before we ordered lunch. It was difficult to focus on the upcoming meeting while watching Lauren openly gawk at Agent Bronson. Overwhelmed, we were all still reeling from the last murder case. I had a huge rock in my stomach for every issue that was wrong in my life. I thought wrapping my mind around the case would help to reroute my attention and pull me out of the slump. I was only partially right. I just needed time to pass.

  “Fiona, you don’t look too good. Did you not sleep last night?” Maddie asked cautiously as the waitress set down a tall glass of Dr. Pepper in front of her.

  Lauren interjected, “Uh, yeah, I was going to say something too, but I thought it was rude.”

  I held my palms in the air to stop the catty interaction.

  “Not rude. I just haven’t felt good lately. I think I might have a touch of what Janice has,” I lied.

  I was an emotional train wreck.

  My phone rang from inside of my pocket, and I reluctantly pulled it out.

  “Hello.”

  “Fiona, it’s Wolfe.”

  A calming warmth radiated from my heart as I anticipated his words.

  “Sorry, I didn’t respond to your text. My phone died, and I just charged it enough to turn it on. I can’t make the meeting, but I would like to add my thoughts to your discussion with Detective Chase, if I may.”

  “That’s fine. I understand. Sure, what’s on your mind?”

  It took everything I had to sound normal. His tone of voice was different. Strained, he was trying to sound professional. I didn’t like this. I wanted the old Wolfe back, hoped our friendship wasn’t ruined.

  I scanned the other customers in the diner. A few tables away were a group of teenagers, probably a year or two younger than us—laughing, playing with their food, acting like normal teens, talking about concerts and fun things. Our group was discussing a murder case. Even worse, my heart was breaking in a covert manner over a boy. It didn’t seem fair.

  “I don’t think it was the vampire kids. I think they were set up. It’s too obvious, and Camber Johnson told me—”

  “Wolfe, you shouldn’t talk to the suspects without us all there as witnesses,” I interrupted, frustration pouring into my tone, the sting of betrayal forcing the words out of my mouth. “There is evidence placing her in the cave the night of the murder, and she is lying to the police.”

  “I only talked to her at school. She knew I was in the club and working on the investigation and wanted to be heard. She has no clue why Sydney Sergeant said they did it. She is very scared right now.”

  Doing my best to fight my jealous-driven annoyance, I hesitated before responding, trying to choose my words more carefully so I didn’t sound irrational. I was taken aback that he wasn’t with us at the meeting, and he had spoken to a suspect without us there—and was defending her.

  “Okay, Wolfe. Just don’t talk to her anymore without us being present,” I said coldly.

  A second, secret motive willed me to tell him to stay away from Camber. Jealousy. She was a beautiful girl from an immensely wealthy family. She had full lips—probably injected with filler as her mother was the plastic surgery queen of Godley Grove. Above them, a Madonna piercing, most likely a real diamond—it certainly sparkled like one. She was intriguing with one hazel eye and the other, a brilliant blue, and long blonde hair with bright-blue highlights, matching her one eye. Her figure defined the word voluptuous. When she entered a room—girls, boys, teachers, parents, pets—it didn’t matter—heads turned. And I, on the other hand, was plain, certainly not a head-turner, but I wasn’t trying to be one, either. The thought of her and Wolfe getting together as a couple nauseated me.

  “I’m never wrong with a profile, Fiona. I’m saying these kids had nothing to do with this murder. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye. I’ll let everybody know what you said,” I said with a frown, ending the call and glaring at Maddie for a moment as I tried to compartmentalize my irritation about him speaking to Camber.

  “Well, what did he have to say and why’s he not here?” she sneered before sipping her Dr. Pepper through a pink straw.

  “He didn’t say why he couldn’t make it,” I sighed before continuing, “and he said in his opinion, the vampire cult members weren’t involved with the murder. He said they were set up, and Camber Johnson pleaded innocent with him.”

  “Why is he interrogating her without us, Fiona?” Lauren said bluntly. “I suppose Wolfe is trying to get the hookup, huh? I mean, every dude at school wants to get with her.”

  “And every girl wants to get with Wolfe,” Willow giggled, shrugging her tiny shoulder and smiling at Lauren. “What a perfect couple!”

  I hesitated, collecting my thoughts to prevent my mouth from divulging my true feelings. I channeled my extra energy through bouncing my heel on the floor where nobody could see.

  “I told him not to interview suspects without us there,” I said, choking down the lump in my throat. “But we all know he’s remarkably skilled at profiling cases, so if he doesn’t think they did it, we should at least consider other options.”

  “Good afternoon, ladies. Sorry I’m late,” Detective Chase boomed as he rounded the corner. “Have you ordered yet? They’ve got awesome burgers, by the way.”

  “No, just sodas, no lunch, but here she comes,” Lauren said as she pointed to the pretty waitress who was bustling from around the corner.

  He couldn’t help but smile after she scurried off with our lunch order. I smirked, realizing he had noticed her. For the first time, I felt Detective Chase was human.

  He opened a file, spreading out some documents on the glittery table, starting our meeting.

  “We’ve uncovered a ton of information, and I’ll try to summarize for you, but I’ll leave a copy of the full report so you can analyze the case as a group later,” he said, shuffling through his papers. “Your group has been more than helpful to our police department in the past; we appreciate you, and what you contribute to our investigations. Young minds. There’s definitely something to be cherished about untainted, innovative, youthful minds,” he chuckled.

  “Thank you, and we’re glad to help! We appreciate you for your dedication to training us!” I encouraged.

  He paused, surveying each one of our faces.

  “We have five suspects, four have been formally charged, and three remain in the county jail because they are unable to post bond. The formally charged suspects are the four cult members, and then we have the transient Emily Vance—who still holds she only discovered the victim.”

  “So, one of the vampire cult members posted bond immediately,” I inquired ruefully.

  “Yes, the blonde one that lives in the gray stone mansion on Aragon Avenue,” Detective Chase said.

  “Next door
to Willow’s mansion and down the street from Wolfe,” Lauren added abruptly.

  “We have the story behind Damien Lee’s girlfriend, Victoria Newsted, a fellow cult member. She’s a junior at the high school, runs a paper route, was abused by her mother as a small child, lived in a foster home for a period, but is back home with her mother and a roommate. She became a member of the House of the Nightmare Army soon after she moved back with her mother at ten-years-old.”

  “A vampire cult accepts ten-year-olds? Are you kidding me?” Lauren jeered.

  “Unfortunately, that is true. It appears she introduced her boyfriend Damien to the cult when they started dating at 13-years-old. The House of the Nightmare Army, at that time, had many members, all older. Over time, it has lost members for various reasons.”

  “I’ve seen that girl around the halls at school. She is quite the freak, I must say,” Maddie said bluntly, shrugging an apologetic shoulder.

  “Me too,” Lauren muttered in disgust.

  “She was in my Spanish class last year—acts as weird as she looks. She’s tiny, pretty behind the pink hair, black lips. She wears weird black retro clothes, looking like Gothic sixties or something,” Maddie said, her voice matter-of-fact.

  “Oh my gosh, have you seen her neck tattoo?” Willow inquired brightly.

  “Yes, she got it last year. It’s a bleeding vampire bite,” Maddie answered.

  “Yes, that’s the suspect as I remember from last night. She lives with her mother, Melanie Newsted, and her mother’s roommate, Dimitri LeMorte. I’m headed to pay them a visit this afternoon. Victoria told the police she can’t stand Dimitri. I’ll see what that’s all about,” his tone was brusque.

  “Where do they live, Detective,” I asked.

  We froze our conversation as the waitress delivered our hamburgers. The buttered buns puffy, the French fries thick and crisp—far more appetizing of a plate than my daily cafeteria pizza. I inhaled the greasy aroma, and it elevated my mood. My hunger returned.

  “They live on Copper Street by Silver Springs Marina,” he informed, taking a bite from his hamburger as a sliced tomato slid out from the bottom and onto his plate.

  “Over by the trailer park,” Lauren added, grabbing the ketchup and squirting an enormous amount over her French fries to cover them thoroughly. I pondered how she would eat them without covering her fingers in ketchup. Then, she grabbed a fork and stabbed one.

  Agent Bronson had eyed Lauren’s ritual with the ketchup, giving me a playful wide-eyed smile before he shook his head and returned to his newspaper.

  “Those houses are not very nice, by the way,” Maddie said grimly.

  An awkward silence followed as everybody dove into their lunch for the next few minutes.

  “Let’s get to the evidence as it stands,” Detective Chase suggested before taking a huge bite of his hamburger, the peach-colored sauce dripping down his chin.

  He arranged the documents in front of him as he chewed, wiping his face and the table with his napkin. He took a big swig of water, and addressed us with the evidence.

  “This is interesting. The victim has an odd double stripe tattoo on the middle finger of her right hand. An officer at the station remembers seeing a few people at the jail having the same tattoo over the years, so he is working on the etiology of this finger tattoo. In the meantime, we’re focusing on the rest of the case such as fingerprints we discovered on the sword—I outlined in results to you yesterday, Fiona.”

  “Got it, Detective.”

  He continued, “We’re still looking for the person to match the unknown print. Obviously, it is somebody who isn’t in the IAFIS database, so they’ve never been in trouble before. We did locate a blood sample at the scene and made a match to deer blood. We interrogated the suspects, and Damien Lee reported he recently discovered a deer on the road, hit by a car, dying. He stated he, along with the other cult members, took the deer to the altar in Dracul’s Den and sacrificed it, but did so because it was the humane thing to do.”

  “Okay, right. Great story. They’re sick animal killers,” Maddie blurted as she swished her long black hair onto her back to keep it from traipsing across her plate.

  “Well, we will take his word on it until we can prove otherwise, Madison,” he countered bluntly.

  “What about the autopsy report, Detective. Did you finish it yet?” I inquired politely, taking a massive drink of my soda through an over-sized straw.

  “Yes, actually I was getting to that. I found bite marks on the victim’s shoulder and right arm. They don’t appear fresh. I estimate they were inflicted about twenty-four hours or so prior to the victim’s death.”

  “We need dental records from all suspects, and we can get a match to at least who bit her, right?”

  “Yes, that is in the works, Fiona. I also found chloroform was used to subdue the victim prior to death, and the abrasions found on the back of her legs indicate she was dragged for a distance to the altar. She also has bruises in her armpits where the murderer had a hold of her body.”

  A young boy, probably about three-years-old, who had recently sat down at the table behind us with his parents, stood up in his seat, turned around, peering at us over the detective’s shoulder. For no apparent reason and without warning, he screamed as loud as his lungs would allow, his face turning a purplish hue. The detective cringed, shrinking his head downward into his shoulders. The boy’s parents quickly wrestled with him to get back into his seat and scolded him for the next few minutes. I swore at that moment I’d never have kids.

  “Wow,” I sarcastically said. I could tell everybody at my table was taking a moment to recover from the young screamer.

  “Well, I guess I’ll continue,” he said with a chuckle, “I checked out the claims by Emily Vance who said she was also attacked by somebody from behind and made to inhale a substance causing her to fall asleep. Her story checks out; we found trace evidence of it in her blood the morning of the murder.

  Emily stated the victim, whom she doesn’t know, showed up at the cave where she lived. Upon her arrival, she was immediately knocked out from behind. When she woke up; she rushed around the cave to see what had happened. That is when she witnessed the vampire group running out of the cave. Emily said she investigated the cave and found the victim in Dracul’s Den. The body was on the altar. Dead.”

  “Somebody came into the cave, knocked them out, killing the victim but not Emily?” I mused openly, taking a bite of my hamburger.

  “It seems that way for now,” he added. “I also analyzed the stomach contents of the victim. She consumed a meal an hour before she was murdered. We analyzed the contents and found pumpkin, fermented tofu, and noodles. We’re checking all restaurants in town to see if anybody serves that combination. We didn’t find any of the ingredients in her trailer. In fact, the only thing we found in her trailer was a nearly empty bottle of ketchup and moldy unidentifiable food in a Styrofoam container in the fridge.”

  “Sick!” Lauren spoke through her teeth.

  “Health hazard, I swear!” Willow mocked, pushing up her suit jacket sleeves.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I grabbed it, a text message. My mother. Janice was getting worse and they were headed to the hospital—she warned she wouldn’t be home when I got there. Bowing my head in silence, I collected my thoughts, fighting an impending wave of sadness.

  My world was crumbling down around me no matter what I did. I glanced at Agent Bronson for another reminder of the drama in my life. I swallowed, my throat constricting, and nodded at Detective Chase to continue.

  “A few more things. We have bloody fingerprints on Damien Lee’s 1975 Buick Regal door handle. A match to Damien. We have made a match to the bloody shoe print in the marble tunnel of the cave, which matches Camber Johnson’s pair of yellow Chuck Taylors, women’s size eight. The same shoe was placed via a partial print on the back seat carpet of the floor of Damien’s car.”

  My blood began to boil upon hearing Camber was off
icially placed at the crime scene with blood on her shoes. She had lied to Wolfe, and he had believed her. Her parents had fibbed to the police.

  “We found a fabric transfer of blood from a pair of jeans belonging to Victoria Newsted on Damien Lee’s passenger side door.”

  “Well, how can they deny being in the cave, Detective?” Lauren hissed.

  “Duh, Lauren. They were in the cave, obviously. They are liars,” Willow said sardonically, tossing a French fry into her mouth.

  “This proves they were in the cave at some point either during or immediately after the murder. If they are not guilty, maybe they’re just scared to admit they were there? Oh, and one more thing—the graffiti on the side of the altar says the words—Cosmar Armata.”

  “What the heck does that mean?” Maddie blurted.

  “It is Romanian for Nightmare Army. This links the cult to the altar and gives a very strong motive for the suspects as far as the circumstantial evidence is concerned,” Detective Chase noted before taking a swig of his water.

  The little boy at the table behind us stood up again and turned around, a chewed-on chicken nugget in his hands. After about two seconds, he was pulled down abruptly by his father and a momentary fit of whining ensued.

  “Do their little black vampire guideline books say anything about sacrificing people?” I asked curtly, still fuming in the recesses of my mind about Wolfe defending Camber.

  “We’re looking into it. We’ve got the document analyst at Silver Springs working on it and translating the sections of it that are not in English.”

  The rest of our lunch meeting was spent discussing the various aspects of the case. We all agreed on the surface, it was an easy case against the cult members, even though three of them denied being there. Emily Vance put the teens running out of the cave after the murder, and that was critical.

  Sydney Sergeant stated she walked in on Damien holding the sword, and the investigators found Damien’s bloody print on the handle. But the unknown fingerprint would certainly be used by the defense, so Detective Chase needed to collect and analyze all points of the case before making any determination about who was guilty. The fact that Damien, Victoria and Camber outright denied their presence in the cave the night of the murder was complicating things, even with the growing evidence that pointed otherwise.