J.R. Rain's Vampire for Hire World_Fire Warrior

by H. T. Night

  “Hi, Anthony, sweetie. Would you hold on for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  I heard a clattering sound, as if the phone had dropped on cement. I heard a man cry out, then a voice that sounded like my mom speaking Mandarin Chinese or something similar. I listened intently. I heard the sounds of what could have been watermelons being sliced in half by swords. Then, I heard what sounded like my mom’s voice again and this time, she was screaming in French. I heard the screams of probably about ten men and then, there was a huge splash of water.

  My mom spoke into her phone again. “Hi, Anthony, it’s nice to hear from you. You never call me when you’re at school.”

  I knew better than to ask her about any of what I had heard over the phone. But I would ask her a son’s question. “Are you okay, Mom?”

  “I’m doing great,” my mom said, secretive as usual.

  “What the hell was all of that?”

  “Don’t mind that. How are you doing?”

  “Are you okay?” I asked again.

  “Sure I am. Hold on.”

  Once again, I heard the sound of a sword slicing a watermelon.

  Then, ten seconds later, my mom spoke back into the phone. “Okay, I’m all yours now. What’s going on?”

  “Can you talk for a second?”

  “Of course, Anthony. You haven’t been arrested?”

  “No?”

  “No one is pregnant?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, son. Let me go somewhere where I can hear you better.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Manhattan.”

  “New York City?”

  “Yes, dear. New York City. I’m sorry, hold on.” I heard some rumblings and a crash. I heard my mom say something and then, what sounded like more fighting. I heard someone else speak Chinese again and then, more fighting. About five minutes later, my mom picked up the phone. “Okay, I can talk.”

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, more horrified than the first time. I had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t in Manhattan.

  “Yeah, sure. I needed to take care of a few things.”

  “So, you’re somewhere where you can talk?” I asked.

  “Yes, dear. Go ahead.”

  “You ready for this, Mom?”

  “I am.”

  “I might be in love,” I said with confidence, but once the word ‘love’ came out of my mouth, I felt like I had probably already said too much. My voice sounded winded for more than one reason.

  “I’m sorry. Could you repeat what you just said?”

  I cleared my throat and said, “I might be in love with somebody.”

  “You are saying ‘love.’ L-o-v-e.”

  “Yes,” I said. I didn’t mind that Mom was so flabbergasted. This was the last thing she’d thought she would ever hear from me.

  “I met a girl. A woman,” I said.

  “A woman?” Now, my mom was extremely interested.

  “Well, she is twenty-three.”

  “Twenty-three. That is considered an older woman these days?” my mom said under her breath. “You’re cute, son. What is this woman’s name?”

  “Katherine.”

  “Katherine,” my mom repeated slowly. “That does sound like a woman’s name.” My mom was having fun with me.

  “She likes to be called Kat, for short.”

  “Kat? That’s interesting,” my mom said. “Who is she? What is she about?”

  “She’s...” I paused. I wasn’t sure how to describe her. “She’s someone that I was destined to meet. I’m sure of it.”

  “Is she immortal?” my mom asked, worried.

  “No, Mom. Not everyone is immortal. Most folks lead perfectly normal lives.”

  “But you feel tied to her somehow,” my mom inquired.

  “Yes. When we hold hands, a power comes over me and I’m not exactly sure what it is.”

  “That’s interesting.” I could hear my mom tapping her jacked-up nails. “Are you sure you weren’t just feeling hormonally inspired?”

  “Mom, I know the difference.” I was becoming embarrassed. “Believe it or not, telling you about a woman in my life wasn’t the only reason why I called.”

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What is the other reason?”

  “Katherine’s mother was murdered,” I said, abruptly. This type of information was something my mother probably heard daily but never from me.

  “How long ago?” my mom asked.

  “Eighteen years. It was ruled a cold case by the Westminster police.”

  My mom was quiet. I could hear the wheels in her head turning. “Wow, that is pretty heavy.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “I mean, for you. It is obviously heavy for her, but that’s a lot to find out.”

  “Mom, I have this weird feeling that I am supposed to solve the case.”

  “Uh-oh, you have the investigation bug.”

  “I never thought I would. But in her case, yeah, I want to find out the answers she has been seeking for all these years.”

  “Okay.” My mom paused. “What exactly did you call me for?”

  “I want to run what I know about the case by you.”

  “I want to be clear, here,” my mom joked. “You want my advice? Your mother’s? The big M.O.M.?”

  “Besides just being my mom, you’re a pretty good detective. Everybody knows that.”

  “Wow, followed by a compliment.” My mom paused and took a deep breath.

  “Why are you surprised that I would come to you first?” I asked.

  “I’m first, even. Well, son, you said you felt compelled to solve it. Why is that?”

  “I just want to solve it so she can know what happened. Maybe she will gain some peace from that.”

  “You really do love her, son?” my mom said in just about the sweetest voice I had ever heard from her.

  “I do, Mom.”

  “Have you told her?”

  “No. It’s too early.”

  “Smart move. Regardless of what she feels, it would probably scare her off.” My mom took a moment and she shifted gears and put on her detective hat. “So, what are the facts of the case?” she asked.

  “Okay, she has told me the whole story once but to be honest, I didn’t ask any questions.”

  “All right.”

  I told her every detail that Katherine had shared with me.

  My mom sighed and didn’t say anything for about fifteen seconds. “That’s it. There isn’t any more to the story?”

  “No. Lots of holes, right?”

  “Well, the logistics don’t make any sense.”

  “That’s what I thought,” I said.

  “Is her father still alive?”

  “No. He died of leukemia, one year ago.”

  “Well,” my mom said, “he would have been the first person I would have interviewed.”

  “I thought of that, too.”

  “The lack of information in the case is glaring.” My mom exhaled a giant sigh. “You need to get a hold of the case file. Give Detective Sherbet a call.”

  “He’s been retired for the past five years. Will he take my call?” I asked.

  “He will because you’re my son. I’ll text you his private cell number and have him meet you at a donut shop that he still frequents. He still lives in the OC.”

  “You think he will help me out?” I asked.

  “He is probably bored out of his mind and would love to help out an old friend’s son who is seeking the truth.”

  My mom and I chatted for a couple more minutes before we hung up and my mom texted me Detective Sherbet’s personal cell number. I lay on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. I needed to meet Detective Sherbet face to face.

  I gave him a call and he wasn’t too pleased at being awakened at 8 p.m. I told him I needed to speak to him and it took him a moment to remember who I was until I said my mom’s name. He told me to meet him at Zombee Donuts in Fullerton at 9:00 a.m. the ne
xt day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following Monday, I asked Kat if I could borrow her car for a few hours. I was going to have to miss school to work the case. To deal with it, I told everyone in the administration office that I had a doctor’s appointment and would be missing the day of school. Katherine knew the truth and decided it was smarter for her to stay on campus.

  I woke up at 8:00 in the morning, put my clothes on and took off to the parking lot. Katherine had given me the keys the night before. I headed straight to her white Volkswagen Bug. I saw Katherine sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard on the right. She saw me and waved, then stood up and ran over toward me.

  I walked over to her and we met near the front of the church. She stopped in front of me without giving me a hug. We still weren’t comfortable with public displays of affection.

  Suddenly, she did hug me. Well, maybe we were doing PDA. I was so smitten with her that I would go as slow or as fast as she wanted when it came to us.

  We hugged for ten seconds and it was nice. I let go of her and she looked up at me. “What’s for breakfast?” I asked.

  “They are doing a continental menu today. No hot food.”

  “That sucks.”

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t that hungry. But I learned a long time ago to eat breakfast.”

  “What happens if you don’t?”

  “By lunchtime, something happens to my body and I feel so dizzy that I sometimes can pass out.”

  “That sounds like low blood sugar,” I said.

  “That is exactly what it is. So, I eat breakfast and I don’t have to deal with it.”

  I reached out and held her hand and immediately, I felt my own dizziness. It was more of a rush.

  I leaned down and I gave Katherine a peck on her lips. She kissed me back.

  “So, PDA it is,” I said, winking at Kat.

  “Do you care?” she asked rhetorically.

  “Not at all.” I tried to smile, but I felt as if I had a goofy grin on my face.

  Katherine leaned up and kissed me again. This kiss was a little more passionate. It was a nice kiss.

  “That,” I said, “will last me all day.”

  “I hope it will,” Kat said.

  We let our hands drop. I said goodbye and headed back to the parking lot. I climbed into her car and drove down the mountain to Orange County. It was almost a two-hour drive.

  Fullerton was in the heart of Orange County. I pulled off the 91 freeway and headed down Chapman toward Zombee Donuts.

  I parked the VW in the biggest space available to show how masculine I was next to the hot-pink building. I made my way into the shop and saw Detective Sherbet reading the LA Times. He sat next to three guys who looked like retired policemen themselves.

  Sherbet looked up at me and said, “What? You don’t like donuts? Go grab a couple so we can have a real conversation. These people are trying to run a business. Grab one of those ice coffees that you millennials love so much.”

  I turned around and obeyed Grandpa Grumpy. I went to the counter and bought two chocolate long johns and a 32-ounce iced coffee. By the time I made it back to Sherbet, he was now sitting alone with no paper in front of him, chowing down on his last pink frosting donut. Did I mention it had pink sprinkles?

  “Anthony Moon, get over here. Tell me about your mother. Wait, don’t tell me anything about your mother.”

  We both laughed.

  “You still boxing?” Sherbet asked me abruptly.

  “Not for a while. I have been going to alchemy school.”

  “They have schools for that shit?”

  “It’s sort of underground.”

  “Sort of? It is completely underground. If I haven’t heard about it, then it’s probably not on the up and up. But, what the hell is an eighty-year-old retired detective going to do about it? Nothing. The world is changing and retirement is looking like the best decision I have ever made. What brings you to me, Moon?”

  “I have a couple questions about a cold case.”

  “For your mom?”

  “No,” I said. “For me.”

  “For you?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s a case about a friend of mine that went cold eighteen years ago.”

  “A Fullerton cold case?” Sherbet asked.

  “No, it’s the Westminster PD,” I said.

  “Which case?” Sherbet asked.

  “A woman named Sheila Norquist was murdered right out in front of her house.”

  “Oh, that case. I know that case.” Sherbet finished the last of his donut and began finishing his man-size coffee.

  “Do you know it well?” I asked eagerly.

  “It wasn’t one of mine, so I can’t say I do. I remembered she was murdered and there were zero clues. No prints, no DNA. Just a poor woman shot in the head with no bullet in evidence.”

  “I need a copy of that case file,” I said, hesitantly but determined.

  “Why do you need it?” Sherbet was in full detective mode.

  “My girlfriend’s mom was the lady who was killed.”

  “You first said this person you’re helping was your friend. Soon, she’ll be your fiancé, then your wife. Which is it? How do you know this broad?”

  “She’s my girlfriend. That’s the truth. She goes to alchemy school with me.”

  “You think you can solve a case that veteran detectives couldn’t find one actual clue on?” Sherbet laughed.

  “You know what my family is about, Detective.”

  “You think something off-the-grid happened?” Sherbet inquired.

  “I’m not sure. I just need to know more facts. My girlfriend was five and has a fuzzy memory of the incident.”

  “All right, Moon,” the detective said. “Let’s meet back here in a couple weeks and I will have the case file for you. I’m still on speaking terms with just about every police records clerk in Orange County.”

  “A couple weeks?” I asked, a tad disappointed.

  “I’m going to have to make a special trip. I’m retired. And I’m eighty. You will need to tell your girlfriend to be patient.”

  “I’m the one who is eager.”

  Sherbet shook his head. “The things I used to do for dames. Give me a call in a couple weeks and I’ll let you know what I could find.”

  “Okay, a couple weeks.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  For the next week, it was all about school and Katherine.

  We were planning this cool dinner date on Friday night in her dorm room. Her roommate would be gone through the weekend to a family reunion in Florida. The girls’ dorm rooms had stoves in them. I thought it was sexist, because the guys’ dorm rooms only had a small refrigerator. The girls’ dorm had both.

  Kat and I were at the Stater Brothers grocery store in the town of Big Bear. We were trying to decide what to cook for dinner for our special candlelight meal.

  As we walked into the store, I asked, “Is there a dish that you kick ass at making?”

  “I’m a pretty decent cook,” she said, as we walked down the first aisle that had bread on one side and potato chips on the other.

  “Do you want to cook the main dish and I will cook the side dishes?” I turned around and went to the front of the store where they kept the grocery carts. Katherine followed me. I grabbed a large grocery cart.

  “Dishes... plural?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, we need at least two with a bread,” I said.

  “What side dishes do you kick ass at making?” She was obviously teasing me with my choice of words.

  “I can make simple items. Hence, that’s why I went with the side items.”

  “Well, what can you make?” She grinned.

  “Rice, macaroni and cheese, and potatoes,” I said proudly of my carb-based dishes.

  “Well, I was thinking about cooking my famous Norquist chicken where the recipe has been passed down through my family, all the way back to Wales.”

  “Sounds great
,” I said. “You’re Welsh?”

  “When it comes to my roots, I’m a little of everything. I took a DNA test back in college and I literally have ancestors on all seven continents. What about you? What are you? Besides part vampire,” she said, joking.

  “I’m English and German,” I think.

  “You’re probably so much more. You should take a DNA test. It is extremely eye-opening.”

  “It would be,” I said. “What we need now is French bread. I apparently have enough French in me to know that garlic French bread is delicious.” I grabbed two long loaves of French bread that were in bags. I put them in our cart. Kat and I spent about an hour going up and down the aisles slowly. It was nice. It really felt as if we were a couple.

  The total for everything came to $68.44. I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and paid for it.

  “Is that all you have?” she asked. “Hundred-dollar bills?”

  I laughed. “I do look like a mac daddy peeling off hundred-dollar bills everywhere we go,” I joked. “Before I came up to school, I went to the bank and pulled out a thousand dollars in cash. Banks like to give hundreds. To be honest, the only place that comfortably takes them are the nicer restaurants and supermarkets.”

  We walked out to her Volkswagen and we were off to her dorm room to have our date.

  We arrived back to her dorm room around 7:00 p.m. We unpacked our groceries and went to work on the cooking. Katherine put on some sexy, old-school Tony Bennett music. We had an incredibly romantic time cooking together. We kept touching each as we cooked. I would sneak a kiss here and there. At one point, I hugged her from behind while she made the chicken. This was what I called sensual cooking.

  I made rice and potatoes. I just needed a couple of pots and nice big wooden spoon. At one point, Kat grabbed the spoon from me and spanked me with it. I enjoyed how she liked to fool around.

  I hadn’t had too many girlfriends, but I was hoping that this would be the night. Still, we needed to make it through dinner first.

  We both set the table and Katherine placed a couple of candlesticks in holders in the middle of the table. I pulled out her chair and she sat down. I sat down on my side of the table and we just looked at one another.

  “This is quite the dinner,” Katherine said. “We did good.” Katherine smiled at me with a sense of vulnerability that was precious. Vulnerability? That was a side of Katherine I had yet to see. She was usually emotionally tough as nails.