I scanned my surroundings. We stood at the intersection of St. George and Hypolita. In the iron-gated park to my left—nothing. At the pub up the block, three men smoked in the doorway. A tour train idled at the stop sign. In the Columbia Restaurant courtyard to my right, a man with dreadlocks played the flute. Late for a street performer to be out, but not unheard of.
Wait. The tour train didn’t fit. Both companies quit running by five every evening, unless perhaps it was a special tour. But only the driver was on board.
I peered at his fiftyish, careworn face and the shaggy gray hair peppered with blue black strands. He met my gaze with an intensity that gave me goose bumps, then shifted gears and drove on through the intersection. When the last car passed, Cat—giant Cat—sat by a bollard on the other side of St. George Street as if it had hopped off the train.
“Oh, so it’s you,” I muttered.
“Rrryyyow,” Cat answered, tail whipping side to side.
“Shit,” Saber swore. “That’s the biggest damn cat I’ve ever seen. Must need a hell of a litter box.”
Cat gave Saber a long, unfriendly look, snorted, and rose to trot south on St. George as if leading the way home.
I rubbed my temples and followed.
“You act like you have a headache,” Saber commented.
“I think I do.”
“Vampires don’t get diseases, they don’t get sick, and they sure as hell don’t get headaches.”
“See, that’s your problem, Saber. You see me only as a vampire. I’m also female, and we can get headaches any time we darn well please.”
Did I screech the end of that statement juuust a little? Tough. He was jumping on my last frayed nerve.
I glanced at my Timex with the illuminated dial feature I didn’t need. Four more blocks to walk. If I hurried, I could catch Night Court. I’d feel much better then.
“Why do you wear a nightglow watch? You can’t have bad eyesight.”
“My sponsor gave it to me,” I said and picked up my pace.
“Right, Maggie.” He strode beside me in blessed silence for a minute. “I read Detective March’s interview with Neil Benson.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He calls you Fresca?”
“Sometimes.”
At Treasury Street, Cat veered left, and so did Saber. Since I was on his left, he plowed smack into me. He reached to steady himself or me, I wasn’t sure which. His arms tightened around me, his body brushed mine, and, big, big, uh-oh.
Besides feeling his gun pressing into my hip, a lower part of him stirred. Damn it. I soooo didn’t need this. A distant, vague attraction I could deal with. My erogenous zones doing the happy dance? No. Oh, definitely no. Not when I was a science experiment to the guy.
“What are you doing?” I said, aiming for haughty instead of hot-to-trot.
“Following your cat.”
“She’s not mine. If she were, I’d have sicced her on you. You wanna let go now?”
He gave me a wicked grin but stepped away. I continued down St. George Street without another word.
“Wait. You’re walking past the cathedral?” he asked with a smidgen of concern as he leapt to catch up again. Cat did, too, prancing out in front of us.
“Why not? You think I’ll burst into flames?” I heaved a purposely dramatic sigh. “For a preternatural crimes expert, you have an awfully narrow view of preternatural people.”
“You’re not a typical vampire.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“By Mick?”
“No, by Neil.”
“You have a thing going with him?”
“Yuck, no. He’s Maggie’s man.” I turned left on Cathedral Place into a face full of wind and the tangy smell of the bay. Only a half block to home.
“What is your relationship with Neil?”
“We surf sometimes, and we get along for Maggie’s sake.”
“You surfing tomorrow morning?”
“Duh. No. Detective March has my board. And I have to work with the sketch artist at eight.”
“What are you doing the rest of tonight?”
“Taking my design course online, reading, maybe watching a movie.” I needed to chill out, for sure.
“What about tomorrow night?”
“I’m taking dance lessons. The salsa, since I know you’re going to ask.”
“You sound like you plan every second of your life.”
I shrugged. “I like knowing what to expect every day.”
“What else do you do on your nights off?”
“Play bridge. Take classes. Shop at Wal-Mart.”
“Wal-Mart?” From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head. “Like I said, you’re not a typical vampire.”
Cat trotted right past my door tonight. I stopped, and she let out a low rrryyyow. I paid no attention because, yippy-skippy, I could ditch Saber now.
“Fun as this has not been,” I said, pulling my key from my pocket, “twenty questions time is up. I hope you find Stony or whoever killed Yolette.”
“Rrryyyow,” Cat growled louder and leapt back to pounce on the hem of my cloak.
“Is this a kiss-off?”
“You’re the investigator. Draw your own conclusions.”
Still growling, Cat bit my cloak and pulled hard. Off balance, I stumbled a few steps. Fortunately, not into Saber. Cat spat the material out, turned toward the bay again, stopped, and looked over her shoulder. I had the insane urge to say, “What is it, Lassie?”
Saber more or less did. “I’d swear that animal wants you to follow her.”
“Maybe,” I said, poking my key in the lock, “but it’s not happening.”
I was tired, stressed and, where Saber was concerned, too interested for my own good. Plus, maybe I’d watched one too many mysteries, but Cat was spooking me out more than she had on Monday. I couldn’t stop her from showing up, but I sure as heck didn’t have to follow her.
Cat stalked back and rrryyyowed pitifully as she sat near the stoop.
“Come on, Princess, where’s your sense of adventure?”
“It’s Cesca and, hello, finding a dead body is enough adventure for one day.”
He glanced down at Cat. “Is she always this prickly?”
I swear Cat shrugged her shoulders. “Rrryyyow.”
As the door shut, I heard him say, “See you tomorrow.” Oddly, it sounded more like a promise than a threat, but that would be civil bordering on mannerly. Saber was only setting a trap. He had to be, after the way he’d acted at the sheriff’s office. That or he had one hell of a Jekyll-Hyde complex.
“I talked to Sandy tonight,” Maggie said, after giving me an exuberant hug as soon as I walked in the penthouse.
Ever supportive, that’s my friend. Dressed in mint green sweats, she pulled me to the couch with Neil looking on from the kitchen.
“She said you were brilliant in the interview. Composed and thorough in your answers.”
I shrugged out of my cloak and toed off damp slippers before sitting beside her. “Did she say anything else? Like when things would get back to normal?”
“Not exactly,” she said, suddenly more somber. “She will try to be there while you work with the artist in the morning, but she has to be in court at nine. She also got the scoop on Deke Saber.”
My stomach flip-flopped with renewed nerves. “What scoop?”
“He’s a former creature hunter,” Neil said flatly as he moved into the living room. “He’s credited with killing more werecreatures and vampires than anyone in the country.”
“Uh-oh.” My fluttering stomach clenched. Talk about the wrong man to let under my skin.
Maggie took my hand. “Don’t worry. He’s a consultant now, not a hunter.”
“Then he must’ve been fishing tonight, because he showed up on my tour.”
Maggie stared, and Neil plopped on the coffee table in front of us. “Did he interrogate you?” Neil asked.
“Not precisely, but I coul
dn’t shake him afterward. He walked home with me.”
“That should be police harassment. Sandy can slap a suit on him first thing tomorrow.”
“I doubt that would stop Saber,” I said before Maggie wound into full-rant indignation.
“Why didn’t you—” Neil snapped his fingers. “—warp speed yourself home?”
Neil didn’t know I was a speed novice, and I wasn’t fessing up, so I shrugged. “Seemed kinda pointless since he knows where I live.”
Plus I’d rather win a battle of wits than speed any day, especially now that I knew what Saber was. Should I let on tomorrow? Maybe he wouldn’t even be at the sheriff’s office at eight. I might work with the sketch artist and never see Saber.
Until the next time he popped up unexpectedly.
An experiment shouldn’t feel warm and fuzzy about seeing the mad scientist again, so why did I?
“Well, if he corners you again,” Maggie was saying, “talk to Sandy immediately.”
I agreed and changed the subject. “You two have fun tonight?”
Maggie and Neil exchanged one of those glances that spoke volumes. I thought of Saber’s body brushing mine, but that was just lust. Sex was intimate, but Maggie and Neil had more than sex and a much deeper intimacy.
“Hey, Fresca,” Neil said, snapping his fingers in my face. “Are you laying off surfing till you get your board back?”
“Actually, I think I’ll buy a new board.”
“The queen of cheap is buying a new board?” He gripped his chest. “You mean brand-new? Retail?”
I snagged a decorative pillow and smacked him. He might’ve smacked me back, but the phone rang. No one calls Maggie after ten at night except her dad, so we all blinked at the white cordless unit before Maggie answered. A moment later, that one eyebrow arched halfway to her hairline.
“Wait a sec,” she said and turned to me. “It’s that Saber character. I’m putting you on the speaker so we can be witnesses to this.” She punched the speaker button, and I said hello.
“Marinelli, is your truck parked in the bank lot?”
I glanced at Maggie. “What?”
“Damn it, where is your truck parked?”
“It’s in the lot. Why?”
“You’d better get down here.”
The lot was only partially lit by security lights, and shadows danced across the asphalt. Saber stood by the bed of my SSR. I could tell my truck wasn’t its pristine aqua blue metallic color anymore but couldn’t see exactly how bad the damage was until I drew level with him. Black spray paint spelled the word DIE on my tailgate, and that was only a fraction of the destruction.
“Damn.” I reached to touch a shattered taillight.
Saber didn’t stop me. Instead, he said, “I’ve called the city police and sheriff’s office. The city cops are rolling. We’ll need to photograph and fingerprint the truck.”
Fingerprints. I didn’t want to blow the chance of catching the vandal, so I took Saber’s hint and clasped my hands tightly behind me. Good thing, because shock warred with righteous rage as I circled my baby to inspect her damage.
Crimson paint smelling faintly of blood covered the cab, windshield, and hood in streaks and dripped onto the pavement. Where the paint didn’t cover them, deep scratches etched both entire sides. I couldn’t tell whether they were words, symbols, or random marks, but each ugly gouge pushed my blood pressure higher. Though the windows were intact, the headlights and taillights were all smashed.
By the time I’d made the circuit around my SSR, a city cop car pulled up to block the parking lot entrance. Neil stood beside Saber and looked grim, while Maggie stepped up to hug me.
“Oh, Cesca honey, I’m so sorry.”
I accepted her comfort, but my gaze never left Saber’s.
“How did you find this mess?” I asked him when Maggie let me go.
He shrugged. “When you went inside, I followed that cat. It headed straight for your truck.”
Maggie planted her hands on her hips. “Who cares about a damned cat? When are you going to catch Stony? He has to be behind it. He killed that woman, and now he’s terrorizing Cesca.”
“Now, Maggie,” I said, putting my arm around her in hopes of stemming a tirade, “this is vandalism. A very bad case of vandalism,” I added darkly, “but not terrorism. And here come the nice policemen to help us.”
Make that police persons. A male officer of about forty paired with a much younger female who did all the talking.
“Who called in the complaint?”
“Deke Saber, state special investigator.” His ID already in hand, he flashed it and went on. “I made the call, and this is the owner.”
“Your name, ma’am?” the female asked.
I moved away from Maggie and gave the officer my full name, address, and both the house and my cell numbers. When they insisted on seeing my driver’s license, Neil volunteered to run upstairs for it.
“Approximately how long has your vehicle been parked here?”
“Since a little before eight this evening,” I said dully.
“Any idea who might have done this?”
I glanced at Saber. “I have an excellent idea, but I don’t know his name.”
“Officers,” Saber said, “I told dispatch there’s reason to believe this incident is indirectly connected to a murder the sheriff’s office is investigating.”
The cops exchanged a glance. “The French Bride murder?” the female cop asked.
Great, the reporter had used the same catchphrase for the case. Now if they could just catch the guy responsible.
The male officer’s eyes narrowed on me, then Saber. “You’re the vampire killer, right? That why the state is in on this case? Because she’s one of them?”
Oh, good, another fan. I was grateful Maggie didn’t make a snide comment from the sidelines, but beside me, Saber scowled.
“I’m a preternatural crimes expert, and the case has international implications. I’m here to eliminate possible suspects.”
The cop didn’t look chastised but grunted something that could’ve been “Yessir.”
Neil came back with my license and, after making note of the number and expiration date, the officers and Saber looked my truck over together. I hardly had time to eavesdrop when they were back.
“We’ll file a report, ma’am. You can get of copy of it next week.” She handed me two sheets of standard white paper folded in half, one tucked in the other. “This is a victim’s rights booklet. My name and the case number are here on the front.”
I nodded and clenched the pamphlet in both hands. “Thank you, Officer, but what about the truck?”
Frankly, I didn’t want my trashed baby to be sitting in the parking lot in the morning for the bank and office employees to see. Not to mention the locals and tourists. Friday was a busy day downtown.
“The county’s taking care of it,” Saber said. “All the tow trucks are tied up on other calls, but they’ll page me when one is on the way.”
I wondered if he thought I’d done this myself and was determined to set him straight.
As soon as the St. Augustine city officers left, I whirled on Saber.
“If you think I did that myself—”
“I don’t.”
“—I’ll—” I stopped short and glanced at Maggie and Neil to be sure they heard us. “You don’t think I did this?”
“No, especially after seeing you look over the damage.”
His voice rumbled with such uncharacteristic gentleness, I wondered what I’d revealed.
“It’s just a truck,” I said offhandedly so he wouldn’t see any deeper.
“It’s your independence.”
So much for not seeing deeper. I looked at Neil, who stood solemnly by Maggie. She jerked her head toward our building.
“What?” I mouthed.
She blew her blonde bangs in exasperation and marched up to Saber. I stepped behind him, out of her way.
Maggie eyed him
up and down. “I want a straight answer. Do you think Cesca killed that woman?”
I sucked in a breath. Saber ran a hand through his hair and spoke directly to Maggie.
“Officially, she’s still a suspect. Unofficially, I can’t buy it.”
“Why not?” I asked, surprised. Had he planned to let me know this anytime soon?
He gave me an over-the-shoulder glance. “I don’t think you have a motive, but I do have more questions.”
Lips pursed, Maggie nodded as if she’d made up her mind about something.
Boy, had she.
“It’s too cold to do this outside,” she said. “Come up to the condo with us.”
From my point behind Saber’s left shoulder, I shook my head hard enough to rattle my brains. Maggie—and Neil—ignored me, but Saber turned to face me. I stilled so fast, I darn near concussed myself.
“Do you mind if I come up?”
All right, I had to admit I liked him for asking. But there I was in a manners dilemma again. I’d had a hell of a day, my precious, freshly painted truck was trashed, and Saber was coming up for, what? Tea?
Cornered and resigned, I said, “Let’s go.”
We trooped into the building, stood silent in the elevator. In the penthouse, Maggie ushered Saber to the dining table and put water in the electric kettle. Tea. I was right. Geez.
Saber was mannerly enough to compliment Maggie on her home and make conversation with Neil about the state archaeology department. Neil’s face lost some of its tension as he talked about the digs he’d been part of. Maggie appeared to relax, too, as she set out mugs and tea bags, sugar, and milk.
I wasn’t calm at all. Saber’s unbuttoned jacket gave me an occasional flash of his weapon, and my body tingled in memory of our accidental hug. Yet there he sat, nonchalantly chatting while my day went from bad to worse.
I smoothed the victim’s rights pamphlet on the table, picked at the bent corner, and gritted my teeth to keep from jumping out of my skin. By the time the teakettle shut off, I couldn’t keep quiet a minute longer.
“What do you want to ask us, Saber?”
He cut his gaze from Neil to me. “First, I need to tell you it’s doubtful we’ll get any prints. There was no trail of paint to follow. No apparent footprints. If it’d been me, I’d have had a garbage bag handy to toss the paint cans in, and I’m guessing that’s what happened here. The city police and county deputies can check around, alert sanitation workers to keep an eye out, but the guy could have ditched the stuff anywhere.”
La Vida Vampire Page 11