La Vida Vampire

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La Vida Vampire Page 12

by Nancy Haddock


  I’d figured the same thing. Still, it sucked. “Peachy. Guess I can toss the victim rights booklet.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but you strike me as the type to want the truth.”

  “Yeah, and I hate that about myself,” I muttered as Maggie served the tea with a plate of Fig Newtons. Yum. Comfort food.

  When she handed me a steaming cup and I snagged a Newton, Saber looked surprised.

  “You, uh, ingest food?”

  “Saber,” I said, deliberately taking a small bite of cookie and talking around it, “if you’re gonna call yourself a vampire expert, you really have to catch up to the times.”

  His mouth quirked in that too-attractive way. “I’m trying.”

  Neil chuckled, and Maggie hid a grin behind her mug. I had three sips of tea and another bite of cookie—mostly to show Saber I could—before Neil caught my eye.

  “You realize,” he said, looking steadily at me, “no matter who did this—Stony or someone else—he knew you drove an SSR, and he knew where you parked.”

  “Which means he knows where Maggie and I live.”

  Neil pushed his mug away. “I don’t think you and Maggie are safe here.”

  Maggie snorted. “Neil, the guy doesn’t have a key to the building, he doesn’t have the code to the elevator, and I have my dad’s army service revolver. Just let him try anything.”

  I blinked at her across the table. “You have a gun, too?”

  “Yes, and I’m teaching you to shoot this weekend.”

  Saber choked on a sip of tea. Neil groaned softly.

  “It won’t do any good to learn,” I said. “The Vampire Protection Agency frowns on me having a weapon.”

  “Screw the VPA. You have the right to protect yourself.”

  “I agree with you, in theory, Mags,” Neil said, “but this sicko can come after either of you anywhere, anytime, and it won’t be with a can of paint. He’s erratic, and that makes him even more dangerous.”

  Maggie took his hand. “Honey, I understand your concern, but I need to start the design for my new client, and Cesca has work and activities. We can’t put our lives on hold until the cops lock this guy up.”

  Neil shot Saber a measuring glance. “No, and I don’t guess Mr. Special Investigator here can move Cesca into protective custody, can you?”

  I froze. My little voice screaming, Nonononono was rewarded when Saber shook his head.

  “I doubt the county keeps safe houses fit for a vampire.” He grabbed a cookie and took a healthy bite of it.

  “Then how about this.” Neil turned his hand to clasp Maggie’s. “I have to teach a graduate seminar all day on Saturday in Tallahassee. You said you wanted to check out some warehouses there, Mags. You could come with me. Make a weekend of it, and give the cops time to track down Stony while you’re safe out of town.”

  “No. I won’t leave Cesca alone.”

  “She won’t be alone. Not if Saber moves into the penthouse to guard his suspect.”

  TEN

  “What?” Maggie and I yelped together while Saber coughed a fine spray of Fig Newton on the table.

  I pounded Saber’s back, the pulse in my throat doing triple time. Was Neil nuts?

  “Are you nuts?” Maggie snapped. “You want to go off and leave Cesca alone with a vampire killer?”

  “He’s a consultant, Mags,” Neil countered, unperturbed. “You said that yourself, and he’s a law officer. He’s equipped to protect her.”

  “He could shoot her!”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, but for naught. Neil and Maggie went right on quibbling.

  “He’s not going to shoot an innocent citizen,” Neil argued. “Besides, Cesca could break him in two without turning a hair. And with her hair, that’s saying a lot.”

  Saber coughed again, but I caught his eyes laughing and crossed my arms to keep from punching him.

  “Cesca is nonviolent, and she’s as vulnerable as anyone when she’s asleep.”

  “Safe room, Mags,” he said referring to a reinforced space at the end of the hall. Maggie had it built in case she couldn’t evacuate in a hurricane. “She can rack out in the safe room.”

  “After all the time she was buried, you want to stick her in a closet?”

  “Hey, she’ll be dead to the world in there. She can lock herself in and get out whenever she wants.”

  I cleared my throat. “May I interrupt?”

  “No,” they said in unison and went back to wrangling.

  Saber leaned sideways toward me. “They do this often?”

  “It’s the Neil and Maggie show.”

  “I’ll get that page about the tow truck soon.”

  I nodded. He needed to go, and I needed to convince Maggie Neil was right. Partly so, anyway.

  I put two fingers to my mouth and whistled. Dogs probably howled a mile away, but it did the trick.

  “Maggie,” I said, “Neil’s right about your safety. It’s fine if you go away for the weekend. You’ve done it before.”

  “Not when you were being threatened.”

  “I can take care of myself. I’ll skip dance class, call work to reschedule, and lie low while you’re gone.”

  “You will not. You say that, but you’ll do as you please.”

  “No, I promise. And,” I added, suddenly inspired, “I can ask Janie to stay with me.”

  “I still think Saber should do it,” Neil put in.

  “No way,” I said, shaking my head. “He can’t bodyguard and investigate me. It’s a conflict of interest.”

  “See?” Maggie triumphantly shot at Neil.

  “It’s not procedure,” Saber drawled, setting his mug on the table, “but I can get around that. Look, I don’t think you’re stupid enough to kill a woman and then bite her, even if you had a motive.” He paused a beat. “The thing I can’t figure out is why the killer would bother to implicate you.”

  “Simple misdirection?” I suggested. When he looked surprised, I added, “I read a lot of mysteries.”

  “Which leads to the next question. What do you know that you haven’t told us yet? Not because you mean to withhold information,” he hurried on when I frowned, “but because we haven’t asked the right questions.”

  “What’s left to tell you?” Maggie demanded. “Stony did it. He hates vampires. He’d implicate Cesca in a heartbeat. Leaving her alone with you won’t find him any faster.”

  Saber blew out a breath and leaned back in the chair. “What makes you all so sure it’s Stony?”

  “Who else could it be?” Maggie asked impatiently.

  “The guy Cesca calls Gomer,” Saber threw out. “We haven’t located him yet.”

  I frowned. “You haven’t found Holland Peters?”

  Saber shook his head. “And tonight those women connected to the Daytona vampires showed up.”

  “What women?” Neil asked.

  “These four weirdo women who hang out with the Daytona Beach vamps were on my tour tonight,” I said to Neil, then grinned at Maggie. “They wore these leather getups—you should’ve seen them.”

  “Could they have vandalized the truck?” Neil asked Saber.

  “Doubtful, but the timing of their visit is suspicious. There was a similar murder in Daytona last Friday. We’re looking into connections between them.”

  Interesting that he didn’t say the other victim was a vampire, but I stayed focused.

  “Who else do you suspect? I assume you’ve checked out Yolette’s husband?”

  “Still checking, as a matter of fact, but there’s also Mick.”

  “Mick. The tour guide Mick?” I asked.

  “He worked in a vampire bar in Daytona Beach.”

  “Sure, as a bouncer a long time ago. He told Janie and me about it.”

  “Did he tell you,” Saber said slowly, “that a vampire kidnapped his girlfriend?”

  I pictured how gentle Mick was with Janie and must’ve gasped. “Oh, no.”

  “What happened?” Maggie p
rompted.

  “Mick tried defending the girl, but he was beaten and left for dead. The girl was turned.” Saber paused, and I bit my lip. “A week after Mick left the hospital, the vampire and the girlfriend were killed in a house explosion.”

  “Was Mick charged?” I asked softly.

  “No, but the cops may have looked the other way.”

  “Still, Mick didn’t have any more reason to kill Yolette than I did.”

  “Who else is on your suspect list?” Neil asked.

  “You were, briefly. So was Maggie, because there was a chance one of you would kill to protect Cesca.”

  I blew out an exasperated breath. “I don’t need protection from Maggie or Neil. I’m a vampire, for heaven’s sake.”

  “Not a normal one.”

  “I’m perfectly normal,” I snapped.

  “Your powers are pathetic.”

  “He’s right, Fresca,” Neil said.

  I looked to Maggie for help, but she shrugged. Guess Neil and Maggie had noticed I don’t use my powers after all. I almost admitted I don’t choose to use them, but I refocused.

  “Who else is on your stupid list?” I asked.

  “Millie.”

  I stared. “Shalimar Millie? That sweet lady? Have you lost your mind?”

  “She didn’t like the victim.”

  “Well, no, but…”

  I stopped talking and started remembering. Yolette said her first husband’s aunt wore Shalimar, and that he’d been allergic. Or was it Yolette who had the allergy? I’d assumed the dead husband had been a Frenchman, but—

  Saber’s phone beeped, distracting me. He checked it, shoved it back in his jeans pocket, and rose.

  “The tow truck’s a few blocks away. You thought of something, didn’t you?”

  “It’s probably not important.”

  “Write it down anyway,” Saber ordered as he buttoned his sport coat and headed for the door. “Write a narrative for me about the tours on those two nights, even if you’ve been over it with us. Conversations, actions, movements, observations. Bring it tomorrow, and I’ll take a look while you’re with the artist. Which reminds me,” he added, his hand on the doorknob. “You need a ride in the morning?”

  “I’ll bring her,” Maggie said firmly.

  “Fine. Thanks for the tea.”

  Saber left, and the three of us exchanged glances.

  “We still haven’t settled the trip issue,” Neil said.

  “Oh, yes, we have.” I got up, snatched my mug and Saber’s, and took them to the sink. “Maggie, go with Neil. If you don’t, if you’re out doing business and I’m holed up, you’ll be the target for sure, and I can’t have that.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  I spoke over the rush of water from the faucet. “Think about it. If something happens to you, who’s gonna be my sponsor? Neil? No. He rags on my hair, so sooner or later, I’d have to kill him, and then where would I be?”

  “Hey,” Neil objected.

  “Neil, you know I’m right, and Maggie, you do, too. Go to Tallahassee.”

  She bit her lip. “You’ll call Janie to stay with you?”

  “Yes, and if she can’t or won’t, I’m good. I have Magnum DVDs coming in the mail tomorrow, a James Garner movie marathon, a Night Court marathon, homework, books to read—” I waved a hand. “I’ll even clean the penthouse.”

  Finally she laughed. “You are desperate.”

  “Let’s call it persuasive.”

  “I’ll phone in, you know. At random times.”

  “I’ll answer.”

  She hesitated a minute more. “Okay, I’ll go.”

  “We need to leave by nine, honey,” Neil put in.

  “That’s cool,” I said before Maggie could object. “I’ll catch a ride back from the sheriff’s with Saber. Make him stop for donuts and really freak him out.”

  Neil laughed, and Maggie shook her head. “Be careful of him, Cesca. He seems to be on your side now, but I wouldn’t push him too far.”

  Cosmil hovered under one of the dozens of ancient oaks in the plaza watching Pandora in her panther size as she descended from branch to branch. She landed with a soft plop on the ground before him, but a disguise spell insured that anyone passing saw only a large house cat and an old man.

  “Did you get close enough to overhear them?” Cosmil asked.

  The vampire princess will be alone for two days.

  “And the man called Saber? Will she be safe from him?”

  He will not kill her.

  “Can you track the vandal?”

  Pandora shook her head. I smelled only blood and sand. The scent stopped at the street.

  The vandal had left by car then. Cosmil frowned at the puzzle, but it was not his priority. Triton had shape-shifted into dolphin form with the dark moon to roam the coastline of the Pacific one last time. In twenty-four hours, when he shifted back to human form, he would rest for two days before his business affairs concluded. At the time he traveled east, he would be most vulnerable to detection.

  If only Cosmil could unmask The Void, he might call on allies to contain it. He would perform the revealing spell one more time but save his highest energy and magick to cloak Triton’s movements. Meanwhile, Francesca must be guarded.

  “Keep watch,” he murmured. “Let no harm befall them.”

  As the panther bounded back up the tree, Cosmil’s body shimmered and disappeared.

  I settled down to work on the tour details for Saber, breaking now and then to finish reading my design course lectures. I have a good memory, but reconstructing the two tours was harder than I thought it would be. I was pleased that absolutely nothing Mick had said or done pointed to him as the killer. Certainly not of a total stranger.

  Millie? She’d seemed disapproving of the couple from the get-go. There was the confrontation about Millie’s perfume overuse. There was the oddity about Yolette’s first husband’s death. Etienne had said it was an accident, but I’d heard Murder loud and clear in my head with no idea whose thought I’d plucked from the airwaves. Was the little set-to cause for Millie to kill Yolette? I couldn’t see it.

  Now, Holland? He was a giant question mark. He carried a gun and was not what he seemed, but was he a killer?

  When I’d written as much as I could, I rewarded myself by watching Bringing Up Baby. Afterward, I looked over my tour notes again, but pictures of Saber kept intruding. That faint musk scent I smelled when Saber was near puzzled me. It was so much fainter than most men’s cologne and aftershave, and I wasn’t even sure it was coming from his body. His laundry detergent? Maybe I’d ask about it if we—

  Wait! What was I thinking? I planned to spend as little time with Saber as possible. The fact that he made my pulse race a little faster was beside the point. Until the cops found Stony, they had squat. I’d deal with Saber long enough to be cleared, and that would be that. He could find a science project somewhere else.

  At six o’clock Friday morning, I brushed my teeth, showered, and washed my hair. I left the flatiron heating longer than usual and actually got my hair smoothed. Well, all right, not smooth as in straight, but I didn’t look like Janis Joplin on a bad hair day. Pleased, I spent just a touch more time on my makeup and dressed in jeans, a lightweight emerald green sweater, and sandals. Not that I was fixing myself up for Saber or anything.

  The nor’easter had blown itself out, leaving the March morning comfortably breezy. Maggie dropped me at the St. Johns County Sheriff’s Office just before eight, having lectured me about being cautious all the way from the penthouse. Man, did I have more sympathy for teenagers with carping parents! Still, I hugged her and told her to have fun before flying out of the car and into the office.

  I waited only a few minutes for Detective March to escort me to the back. Today his suit was blue with a white shirt. He already looked slightly rumpled, and the day had just started.

  “Your attorney’s not coming?” he asked as we walked through the bullpen.


  “She might stop in, but she has court at nine.”

  “How long before you have to sleep?”

  “Nine thirty at the latest, or I’m dead to the world.”

  He didn’t laugh. No sense of vampire humor, I guess.

  “You said the rendering I showed you yesterday was close?”

  Gads, had it only been yesterday afternoon? “Very.”

  “Then this shouldn’t take much time, but don’t leave until you sign your statement. In here.”

  He opened the door to the same side room Sandy and I had used to consult, and introduced me to the artist. A trim, middle-aged woman, Billie Ormand sat at the utilitarian table with a laptop and went right to work. We’d been at it maybe ten minutes when Saber came in with a cup of coffee for Billie and ice for me.

  I have to admit I was impressed he remembered the ice. Thoughtful was the last word I’d have used to describe him yesterday.

  But he did look good in jeans, an ocean blue polo shirt, and a sports jacket. Tired but good. I wondered how late he’d worked.

  When he left, Billie winked. “Hot guy.”

  I smiled and tossed an ice cube in my mouth.

  In another fifteen minutes, we had an image that could’ve been a photograph of Stony. Billie called March in, and Saber came along.

  “Good work, ladies. I’ll get this in circulation and run it against the database. Saber, the statement Ms. Marinelli needs to sign is on my desk. She’s free to go after that.”

  “I have two questions,” Saber said as I read then signed the statement. “Did you write the narrative about the tours?”

  I pulled the eight single-spaced printed sheets from my purse and handed them over almost before he finished asking.

  “Thanks. You have a ride home?”

  “No, would you mind?”

  Did he seem to brighten? “Let me check out with March.”

  He did, and we were at the lobby threshold when Etienne Fournier barged through the double doors to the reception desk.

 

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