Midnight Sun, Inc. (Crimson Romance)

by Debbie Vaughan

  Locating a berry blend RR in the fridge, I popped it into the microwave and turned to fill Willy’s bowl as the elevator doors closed. My thoughts were as scrambled as the eggs I was beating. I pushed them into the closet of my mind where the irresolvable reside, wiped a tear off my cheek and poured the eggs in the skillet.

  I slid the scrambled eggs onto my plate just as the elevator doors opened and Raf said, “you little shit!” Willy flew around the bar and straight to his bowl.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I told my dog as I watched Raf’s backside head up the stairs. “You’re breakfast is getting cool.”

  He turned to look at me from the landing. From chest to knees — he wore only P.J. bottoms — he was covered in dirt. “I need a shower first.”

  “What happened to you?”

  “The little shit cornered a rat under the Hummer. He wouldn’t come out, so I had to go get him.” He scowled at Willy.

  “And the rat?”

  “Is no longer a problem.”

  Ugh!

  As I stuck my eggs in the microwave next to Raf’s bottle of RR, I couldn’t help think how a few of weeks ago, that would have grossed me out. Was I that adaptable or was this Dee’s doing?

  Did she screw this up too? Was the spell already unraveling? Why didn’t that make me happy?

  Popping bread in the toaster, I waited for Raf’s return to push the lever. It wasn’t a long wait.

  Dressed in jeans and an “Everything I know About Vampires I learned from … ” T-shirt that made me choke on my ruby-red grapefruit juice, he took the winding stairs in double-time to swat me on the back. I coughed, choked and otherwise spluttered, until juice came out my nose. “Where did you get that?”

  “Do you like? I have them all.”

  Having read the books myself, I didn’t ask why. “I bet you do,” I snarked, choking a little more from the acid burn in my nose and throat. “Maybe we should start a book club so we can compare notes?” I pushed the lever on the toaster and the microwave.

  “So how come you’re up so early?” I asked.

  “We don’t have a lot of time. Shopping to do. You need a dress and accessories. Any ideas?”

  I stopped reading his shirt long enough to say, “Not really. Tom says formal, which I sort-a figured. To say I have nothing doesn’t begin to describe it. When is this thing?”

  “Friday. Well, we can go to Pinky Punky for sure. Maybe Nouri and … ”

  “Hold it. Stop. We only have two days?” Well shit! Why did I say yes? “I can’t afford a dress at either of those places. I was thinking about a rental. I don’t need to buy a gown. I never go anywhere to wear one and even if I did, no one ever, ever, wears the darn things a second time. It would be a waste of money.” I put my hands on my hips and waited for the argument I was sure would come. And waited …

  “There’s a place on Bowman Curve that rents pageant wear. We could check them out,” Raf suggested.

  I reached across the bar and dabbed his mouth with a paper towel, then planted a big one right on his surprised lips. “Thanks.”

  “You taste like eggs,” he said with a sour expression that melted into a smile.

  “Did I comment on your blood-breath?” I raised my eyebrows. “So what goes on at these things? No dancing right? I’ll break my neck if I dance in heels.”

  “No. No dancing. Speeches, some boring, some — well, less boring. Food, which should be interesting … Meet and greet; small talk.”

  “And it’s at the Clinton Center?”

  “Yep, it’s all the rage you know.”

  “So I hear. You’re going, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss the Boss’s big night. There’s a rumor Bill and Hillary may show.”

  Great, I need to be even more anxious. “I better call Dee to see if she is up to Willy sitting.” I sighed. I really was trying to look forward to this, if only for Tom’s sake, but feared I’d embarrass him somehow. I wasn’t much on the hobnobbing.

  “Honey, you’ll be fine,” Raf said as if reading my mind. “Go up and get your shower and take a turn in the tanning booth. You’re starting to fade a little. I’ve got to make a couple of calls, and then we can look through some magazines for ideas. Scoot! I’ll clean up.”

  So I scooted. I don’t know what the rush was. It’s not like we could go anywhere before dark. I stuck my head in the bedroom to find Tom still zonked. I slipped in, grabbed some undies, jeans, and dug around until I found the t-shirt I wanted. I couldn’t locate my shoes. Where had they ended up last night?

  Wrapping a towel around my head and another around my body I crossed the hall to the “boy’s bathroom” where I bravely set the tanner to DARK. I traded my towels for the disposable coverings. No orange hair for me! Done to a turn, I discarded my meager coverings, wrapped the towel back around my nakedness, and went to my bathroom to dress and do my hair before it dried into snarls on its own.

  Dressed, though shoeless, hair and makeup in place as I left the bathroom, I heard voices downstairs.

  “Hey you,” I said to Becki just prior to being knocked to the floor by a large Rottie.

  “Rocky, no!” Becki yelled belatedly.

  I was on my back with Rocky in my face when Willy and a Rottie pup a came barreling around the corner of the bar and joined in the pile-up. “Help,” I managed to squeak out in between licks. “I’m drowning … ”

  Raf assisted Becki in dog removal and I was finally able to crawl off the floor and onto the sofa, no worse for wear. Well, not much. Luckily my t-shirt was black so the Rottie hair didn’t show.

  “I’m sorry,” Becki said. “As you can see, I still have no control over him. I’m trying to do better with Harley. We’re working with a trainer.” She looked hopefully in my direction. “I did call. Raf said to come on over.”

  “Not to worry. I’ve had worse encounters.”

  “Willy recovered … ?”

  I grinned at her amazement. “I know. It’s a miracle.” She could draw her own conclusions. “Did you bring clippers? I don’t think Willy’s will work here.” I eyeballed Rocky’s nails which looked like — well — nails. “You really weren’t kidding when you said Freddy Kruger. Yikes!”

  Becki rummaged in her purse, which was the size of a small state, and brought out a pair of new large dog toenail clippers as well as a bottle of Quik-Stop. “I thought we might need this if he gets wiggly.”

  “Good thinking. I’ll try to be careful but black nails are the pits. You can’t see the quick for shit.” I plopped back down on the floor and spread my legs. “Assume the position Rocky,” I called. The big Rottweiler loped over, sat between my legs then rolled onto his back, belly up. “You stay still.” I told him sternly. I rubbed his belly for a minute, grabbed a hind foot and began to clip the overgrown nails. After the rear ones were back to proper length, I grabbed his front feet and twirled him in a circle — easy on the slick floor — until his head rested on my lap. I spoke to him and scratched his ears for a minute or two before proceeding to clip the front nails. “That’s the last.” Rocky bounded to his feet and bounced around like a puppy. “Next.”

  Becki brought the squirming Harley to me, placing him in the position I wanted. His nails weren’t bad. The squared tips showed he had at least been trimmed once before. “Did you do these?” I asked.

  “I’m trying to do better with him than I did with Rocky.”

  “Rocky wasn’t your fault. Well, not all your fault … you need to get your bluff in early on these big guys.” Rocky was a rescue case.

  Harley did very well. “So you kept the name?” I asked as I stood and stretched.

  “Yeah, I like the name and it suits him. Besides it’s not like asshole’s using it anymore. “You may get to do the Labor Day re-opening after all,” she said unhappily. “None of the leads have panned out. Asshole and his friends seem to be just random jerks causing trouble.”

  “And?” Something was obviously eating at her.

  “And the med
school isn’t missing any cadavers.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, we’re still trying to match up fingerprints, but so far — nada.”

  “But all the — parts — were accounted for?” Why do I ask these questions?

  “External ones, yeah, internal, not so much, another reason we figured cadaver. The heart and brain were missing.”

  “Really?” Raf asked in sudden fascination. “Maybe we should check him out.”

  “Why?” Becki and I asked in unison.

  “Perhaps he was a vampire.”

  “Wouldn’t he have like, gone poof, if someone cut his heart out?” I asked like a true Buffy fan.

  Raf rolled his eyes, “You got a lot to learn, honey. We don’t go poof. Cut out our heart we just stay dead, works the same if you cut off our head. Burning’s a little more intense.” To Becki he said, “That would explain the lack of finger prints. If he pre-dated them … ”

  “Good point. We’re all still on a big learning curve here.” Becki admitted.

  “Not your fault. We don’t go around broadcasting ways to off us. Not that it would be easy to do, even if you knew how. But why give people an edge, ya know?” Raf explained thoughtfully.

  Becki and I both nodded. “It must be very hard to fit in, when you have to be so private,” I commented.

  Raf shrugged. “Maybe when the new wears off, it won’t be so bad. Humans seem to have a habit of trying to get rid of anything they perceive as different. You know, if you’re frightened by the unknown it’s much easier to kill it, than try to understand it?”

  “Actually, as a species we don’t seem to need much reason to kill, well — anything,” Becki told him. She got to deal with that reality daily.

  “True, and why we must make ourselves indispensable,” Tom said from the landing above. “All other faults aside, you do seem to hang on to those who provide a service.”

  “Oh you got that right, says the woman who followed her former vet tech around to get her dog’s nails trimmed.” Becki’s gaze ran up Tom’s long body before finally meeting his eyes. Becki was between husbands at the moment. Marriages seemed to be a casualty of her police work — or her attitude.

  Tom must have heard us talking and had bothered to pull on a pair of jeans, but was still barefoot and bare-chested. He looked luscious in every conceivable way. My heart did a little pitter-pat when I met him at the bottom of the stairs for what I intended to be a quick swack. His response was a little more than I expected. He had to turn away a moment to get his fangs back to wherever fangs go when they … go.

  With his arm around my waist we sauntered over to Becki who was snapping leashes onto Rocky and Harley. “Don’t rush off.”

  “I need to run. I promised the boys if they were good I’d take them to the park,” she said casually. She caught my bemused expression and several emotions flew across her face before she settled on one, envy. “You’re lookin’ real good Connie. You do something to your hair? It looks lighter and I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Nope, I’m just darker. It’s a contrast thing, perks from working at a tanning salon.” We sized each other up. This was new territory for me, though I doubted it was for Becki. Would she honor another woman’s claim?

  “There seems to be a lot of those. Perks, I mean. Maybe I should get some color?”

  “Sure, once we’re open feel free to come by any time. We’ll work you in,” Raf told her cheerfully. “Being a cop must make it difficult to schedule anything.”

  “Yeah, Becki, you might even meet some new guys. Lord knows some cuties come in.”

  Tom gave me a raised brow before adding his own invitation, “We’re open twenty-four hours. Surely you can squeeze us in.”

  “I might take you up on that. I really could use a tan.” She was the color of raw dough. “We might need a little girl talk first.”

  “Sure.” What did I agree to?

  “Okay, I’m out of here. I’ll call when I set things up with the coroner for you to take a look at our John Doe. I really appreciate the offer.” Tom started to say something but she waived him off.

  “Don’t worry. It won’t be this Friday, too many other irons in the fire. Thanks again,” she said and hugged my neck. “We’ll talk soon.”

  “I’ll see you out,” Raf offered. The small elevator was a bit crowded with the dogs. I didn’t hear Becki complain.

  “Well that was interesting,” Tom said to the elevator door. “And what do you suppose she wants to talk about?”

  I shrugged and bit my lip. “Best guess? I’d say she wants Vampire one-oh-one, and I am not sure I’m a qualified teacher for this course.”

  “So you think she might want to date one of us?” Tom asked as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back tight into his chest so I couldn’t see his face.

  “Oh come on! I think she was ready to jump your bones and so do you. Don’t be coy.” My jealousy took me by surprise.

  “And you handled the situation admirably.” I felt his chest vibrate as he stifled a chuckle. “I believe she got your subtle hint.”

  “Yeah, yeah Fang-Face. Bite me.”

  “What a lovely idea.”

  “Don’t. You. Dare,” Raf cried as the elevator door opened. “The bruise will be gone by tomorrow but not if you get another taste.”

  Tom wagged his eyebrows. I shook myself free of him and marched to the fridge, snatched a bottle and stuck it in the microwave. “Drink your breakfast.” I told him, and shoved the warm bottle into his hand. “Repeat after me: Connie is not a blood bank.” He had the decency to look chastened. “Besides,” I continued, “you’re making Raf a-a-a-horny?” He was looking rather toothsome.

  Raf touched his mouth. “I got to get laid!” he wailed. “You’re even beginning to look good.”

  “Well, you’re nice! Seriously, you’ll find someone. You got to get out more, mix, mingle.” Not that I have a clue what I’m talking about, but that’s what Dee always says. “We’ve got the shopping; the gala, then we’ll get the salon back up and running. And there’s the trip to the coroner’s office … .” Okay, that didn’t sound too good. “Lots of opportunities. Tons! Honey, we’ll find you someone,” I told him as I put my arm around his shoulders. “We can take Willy to the dog park. All the best dog owners are gay!”

  “They are?” Raf asked hopefully.

  “You better believe it! So, got any ideas on my dress?”

  “Of course. Let me show you a couple of magazines.” He rummaged around in a stack on the corner of the desk then plopped down on the fuzzy rug. Crooking a finger at me, he urged, “well, get over here.”

  He started thumbing through the pages, creasing a corner here and there. Never one to be left out, Willy got his rawhide chewy bone and joined us on the rug. Raf finished with one magazine and handed it to me as he perused another. “I’m thinking simple lines, nothing too flashy.” He looked me over. “The darker tan really makes your hair pop.” He turned my chin from side to side, “White, I think.”

  I grinned, “Like this maybe?” I pointed to an again shorthaired Halle Berry in a gorgeous white halter dress. It was sleek and form fitting with a slit on one side, but only up to the knee. Very modest — except it had no back. The shimmery fabric had some beading around the neckline and hem. “White always makes my eyes look blue.”

  “They are blue,” Tom observed from his perch at the bar.

  Raf rolled his eyes as I said, “Well, not really, truly, blue. They’re more of a blue-grey most of the time. They sort of change with whatever color I wear.”

  “Definitely white. I think a halter will flatter your bust line very nicely. We’ll just have to see what they have available and work from there,” Raf admitted. “We have an appointment. I called ahead to check their evening hours. Sooo, while we’re waiting, how about a mani and a pedi?”

  “A pedicure sounds heavenly, but I have no fingernails to speak of.” We always kept them cut short at the clinic and although th
ey had grown, they were not long by any standard.

  “Not a problem,” Raf assured me. “And I have the perfect color. It’s called ‘Harlot’. You are so a red girl.” He trotted upstairs.

  “Don’t you have a speech or something to work on?” I asked Tom when I noticed him staring. “What?”

  He shook his head and gave me a lopsided grin. “I know when I’m out numbered.”

  Raf returned waving a bottle of ‘Harlot’ nail polish in one hand and carrying what appeared to be a beauty case in the other. “Girl time! Unless you want your nails done, scat.” He warned Tom.

  “I have to take Willy out first.”

  “Put him on a leash! If that rat had friends you’ll never catch him and I’m not crawling under any more cars today. Thank you very much!”

  CHAPTER 17

  Luckily for me no rats appeared. By the time Willy and I returned from our stroll, Raf had set up everything needed to beautify my neglected digits and Tom was MIA. A credit card lay on the coffee table next to Raf’s kit. I glanced at it and frowned.

  Raf shrugged. “I told him.”

  “Good.” I placed the card on the bar, out of the way. “Maybe we should get a little farther from this rug?”

  “Excellent idea.” Raf casually lifted the entire coffee table and moved it off the fur rug. He tossed a pillow on the floor and motioned to me, “Sit.”

  An hour or so later, my pampered feet were soft and smooth — Raf gave an excellent foot massage — with flaming red toenails. My fingernails sported the same shade and hopefully weren’t too long. I talked him into what I thought would be a manageable length, which meant the artificial nails had been cut down by half.

  “Now, on to the rest of you, take off your shirt,” Raf ordered as he began to lay out makeup and hair products.

  “Say what?”

  “Hon, you want your makeup and hair done so you’ll know what you’re gonna look like in your dress. You’ll ruin it all if you have to pull a shirt over your head to try on gowns. So, off with the shirt.”

  “I guess you can tell I go to a lot of fancy affairs?” I pulled my tee over my head, immediately realizing he was right. My makeup would have been ruined.