The Bloody Mary Diet: The Detective Adele Series Book 1

by Caroline Stuchlik

  As soon as we walk into his office he sits down at the computer and offers me the chair next to his. He pulls up some security footage that has been saved and is streaming side by side. Three different girls standing in the exact same spot. The last one is the dead girl I met, the one I will visit at the morgue today.

  In all three shots it is the first day of their vigil. Different days all about a week apart but side by side for comparison and it is astounding. They all standing exactly the same place, same posture, same gate. None of them leave until the sun goes down and the security on duty asks them to leave. By day two all three girls are wearing baggier clothes and their gate is more shuffling. Less like a young woman and more like someone who is elderly but determined to get there without assistance. Day three shows all three in the exact same spot, shoulders slumped forward, baggy clothes, socks, sandals and large sunglass’s. Day four is the same only the walking gate is more of a stumble and their appearance is completely unkempt. Two of the girls are wearing the same cloths as the day before. David has set the days from one to four on time lapse video and matched the times of day exactly. Her schedule never varies. She arrives at the same time, stands in the same place and stares in the same direction without moving. Her clothes are not appropriate to the cold weather but seem to be chosen cover her shape. Loose fitting, miss matched and no outerwear even in the rain. February in San Francisco is not toasty on the best of days and she even stands there for approximately ten hours each day. She never leaves until she is forced to. It is the exact same person in three different bodies. Anyone who watched it could see it.

  “Has anyone else been shown this?” I ask.

  “I brought it to the police this morning on a zip disk and they almost threw me out. It was like they didn’t want to know.” He seemed lost. He knew what it was just like I did and he knew it had happened to all three girls. Now he knew that no one cared enough to even look. It is a hard thing to accept the first few times. Most people won’t look too far beyond their own level of experience. It makes them uncomfortable, scared even.

  I asked if he still had the zip disk and he handed it to me.

  “Did any of the other officers notice it?”

  “We all did, I just put it side by side. The video of the first girl was erased by the time we saw the pattern or we would have her too. The system only holds video for 72 hours unless it is saved.” David’s shoulders sagged as he spoke. I know he felt like he had not made a difference.

  Then I had an idea, “None of the videos seem to show Professor McNeil entering or leaving the building but he lives right across the street. How does he come in?”

  David thought for a second and then pulled up the faculty parking pass information. Prof McNeil had never had a parking pass before January of this year. That would be about two days after the first girl had begun her vigil. He drove around the Science building to park in a lot that was about a block father away then his house. It also kept up with the days he had scanned in. He came in about two to three days a week. That showed that he was avoiding the girl and that she did not have an awareness of his presence. She would stand here even on days that he was not in his office. It also showed that he was willing to pay money and walk a good distance to avoid her. Not something you would expect in a person who did not know what was going on. Not at all. If I had any doubts before I didn’t now. David looked proud. So did I.

  “We got him.” I smiled at David. “Have you ever thought about being a police officer?”

  “Would you like to do a few ride alongs?”

  “Aren’t you Odd?”

  “Yes I am.” My biggest smile in place.

  “I am in.”

  David walked me out to the door. I asked how he had known I was looking into the deaths at the school when I was with Prof. McNeal.

  He told me the insulation in the building sucked and you could hear anything above regular voice level. Good to know.

  “That is my husband. I have to go, I will call you tomorrow about the ride alongs and I will make sure everyone sees this footage. You did really well. I didn’t even think to ask about the surveillance video. I know that we can’t prove anything in court but it definitely links the cases in a way we did not have before. It will make a difference.” David smiles at me as I leave. I have a new friend. With Michaels and Jan that makes three friends plus a new husband, dad and brother. Things are looking up.

  When I walk out the door of the building Trevor is waiting with the car. Our first real outing as man and wife. We are going to the city morgue. Romantic.

  By this time it is way after five and I know Carl will be there. I also know without asking that Trevor has called ahead and Carl will be waiting. Gross.

  “Will you change your name?” Not the question I was expecting but I guess I should. Vampires are old fashioned.

  “I guess. Are we going to stay married?” Trevor looks at me like I just asked if the sun would come up tomorrow.

  “Yes. Why do you think we got married instead of just getting a hotel room? Married is permanent, not just for a couple of days.”

  “I know that. I was just surprised and I wasn’t sure what the scope of the whole thing is.”

  “We can talk about it when we get home tonight. Ella is preparing a special dinner and I will tell you everything you want to know then. I am sorry this happened so fast.”

  “Were will home be?”

  He seems genuinely surprised by this question as well. I am just full of surprises I guess. “Our house. We can’t live with your Gran and Auntie Charles and Molly.”

  “I guess hadn’t thought about it but all my clothes are there. Who will drink with Gran when she wakes up early? Who will keep her out of the street until Charles gets there? She truly believes she can live on Bloody Mary’s, who will feed her. I cut the phone line.”

  Trevor squeezes my hand. It will be fine. I suddenly feel like it really will be. He is compelling me to feel this. Maybe compulsion isn’t really so bad.

  We are at the morgue. We park and Trevor leads me to the door. Super Creepy Carl notices we are holding hands. Trevor smiles and says, “Newlyweds.” For the first time I notice we are touching and it is not overwhelming. It is not strange at all. Maybe after the initial energy surge it quiets down. Or maybe it just burned out all my receptors. I have never done this before but it would make sense. He loves me. That was the strongest feeling. Now that we have shared that it is calmer. I love him, too.

  I smile up at Trevor as we walk in. He is tall. Like six foot plus tall. And amazingly sexy hot. How come I never jumped him before? I must have been blocking because he is really tall and really handsome. I always said he was the hottest guy I knew but now he doesn’t scare the crap out of me. I might jump him.

  He smiles. Reading my mind again. I start to picture Carl Rove. I feel Trevor jump out of my mind. I smile back.

  The body is already pulled out and as soon as we reach the chilerator room I walk over. I know what is going to happen before I even try. Just like before. Nothing.

  When Christine pushes the real spirit out she pushes out everything. Then when she leaves there is literally nothing left but the shell. Not a single memory, nothing. She is killing these girls, using their bodies and dumping them after just a few days.

  The only part of her that is left is evil. She is evil. After all these years all that remains of the pretty young woman who wanted to be a nurse is bitterness and rage. A blind need for revenge. She is not even really aware of herself or Prof. McNeal. His phone number and where he might be are her strongest memories. New information, like a variation in schedule or a phone number, is very difficult to take in and process. I wonder how much self-awareness she is still capable of, if she even has the capacity to form intent beyond her need to hurt him.

  She is what is in the McNeil’s back yard. I know it but you can’t get a warrant to dig up a private yard to look for the body on a fifteen year old cold case without any evidence. I can be right
as much as I want but with no physical evidence it counts for nothing. I want to cry.

  We thank Carl and leave. Back in Trevor’s car I tell him about Prof. McNeil and how all he cared about was that he not be blamed. He didn’t care if more people died as long as no one found his dirty little secret. He would not tell me where Christine was to save lives and I could not make him. She was going to continue to kill girls just to use their bodies for a few days and then dump them and our hands were tied. I suddenly felt very tired.

  Chapter 9: Home.

  Just as I am closing my eyes I get a jolt from my brother’s friendship bracelet. I know I am asleep but I go with it. I see him in a room, four other men are arguing. One pulls out a gun and starts shooting. It is the day he was found with the two dead bodies. He called the police and stayed. The two shooters left. They were both much older than him and I got a very clear look, sharing someone else’s dream is a strange feeling.

  I close my eyes and open my mind. Opening up as big as I can I reach out. David is still here but something bad has happened. Something about not getting the money. He is nervous and tired and he does not want to be doing what they are making him do. He is very scared. Something has gone wrong. My mind slams shut so hard that I jump. I am too hungry and too exhausted to keep it open. I have to call our dad and let him know. I open my eyes and straighten up just as we pull up to “our” house.

  Trevor tells me he called my dad this morning to ask for my hand in marriage. He had to leave a message. The last time he courted a girl there were no phones and he hopes that is not too much of a breach of etiquette. I am quite sure that it is a huge breach of etiquette but I don’t say so. I tell Trevor that it is perfect and he seems relived.

  Now I am calling dad. He answers on the second ring and tells me about the message from Trevor. Dad asks if Trevor is the crazy one form the office and I assure him that everyone at the office is completely crazy and so that would not narrow it down. He asks if I love Trevor and I say yes. After a brief pause he says we have his blessing. I thank him on behalf of both of us and tell him about David. He is still okay and in the city. I leave the rest out. I can feel his relief and hopefulness over the phone. I hope I don’t let him down.

  My history with my parents is not the greatest. Dad and David are both majiks, not regulars like my mom. David probably has some sort of abilities but whatever they are they aren’t helping. No one has ever taught him how to be what he is because we are an embarrassment. We are accepted and even liked by some but for the most part we don’t really belong. That’s probably why my dad’s mom didn’t want me. I would not be able to hide what I was like she and her family did. They are not as powerful as my family but I could feel it when I met my dad. He is a wizard, whether he likes it or not and so David is at least half majik, too. Maybe it will help us find him. Maybe it won’t.

  I was not around before the “Sickness” came and I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t at least okay to be something else. I always knew I was different I just didn’t know that meant. My family had been one of the first prominent witching families to come forward when the Sickness had gotten really bad. The majik community had always had an advantage over the regulars when it came to illness because we have a slightly different DNA make up and it is enough to make us resistant to most viral illness that can sweep through the human population. I have never even had a cold. It is the reason why so many witches are healers. We don’t catch what our patients have.

  When the Sickness came so many regulars were dying that witching families stood out. We were the only ones not dead. Regular doctors had identified the viral strain and even the source but no cure and no one else was left to care for the ill. We had stepped up. My family alone was credited with saving hundreds.

  When the other supers stepped up and were accepted too it was not so much a revelation as a relief. Someone had come to help. Witches, vampires, shifters, it didn’t matter. We were heroes. But that was then. Now we are just different or weird or whatever.

  I really never even knew that we were ever considered dangerous or evil or scary until I was about 12 years old. That is when Poppi left and Gran’s crazy started starting earlier in the day. I know now that part of the crazy was drinking but it didn’t help at the time. The other kids in the neighborhood would call my Gran a “crazy witch” as opposed to just crazy. Like being a witch made it worse somehow.

  It got more difficult as I got older. In school we studied things like the witch trials and how regulars were tried and burned because stupid people couldn’t tell the difference between a witch and a regular scared old lady. My teachers seemed to be saying that it would have been okay to burn them had they been real witches. Almost like it was the real witches fault the trials happened in the first place. I began to understand that there is a difference between being accepted and belonging.

  I can tell you how to tell the difference between a witch and a scared old lady if you really want to know. The witch will kill you first. Every time. She may never start the fight but she will always finish it. Keep it in mind.

  So anyway, I finally realized would always be somewhat apart because we would always be somewhat different. It had been hard at first but after a while you learn to accept it. The people who should matter are the ones who love you and everyone else has to be let go. Forget them if you can because hate will kill you from the inside. Whether it is your hate or theirs.

  Maybe my dad will like me if I can find David for him, maybe he won’t. I can’t afford to pin my hopes on it, I have learned that from experience.

  I am still holding Trevor’s hand and we are home. I will call Ireland to tell Gran and Charles about our new marital state. Hopefully they are not too far gone too remember.

  When we get “home”, that sounds so strange, I ask if I can use one of the mirrors to call. I don’t know what time it is there but with two of them it doesn’t really matter. I know they will share a room and I know they will be together. They always are.

  Trevor takes me to the master suite, it is amazing, and shows me the dresser mirror. I have to pull up a chair to get to glass so I can place my call. This thing is huge. Everything in here is huge. I slip out my tiny scissors from my purse and prick my finger hard. I want enough blood for a pretty good size circle. As soon as I am done drawing it I remember that Trevor is a vampire and that was probably rude. When I turn to apologize his eyes are fixed on my finger. I offer it to him, to be polite but he reluctantly declines. “Later.”

  I am not sure if that sounds more like a threat or a promise. Either way he sounds completely yummy. I put my right hand in the middle of the circle and I reach out for Gran and Charles. They are in the circle in about a two seconds. Gran says they have been waiting for me to call all day. She starts crying worse than crazy Jan. Charles says they saw us get married and they could not be happier. Of course they did and of course they are. They are seers. Charles tells me to check under the bed because they left our gift there. They knew we would get married when they were gone but they didn’t want to leave without giving us something. Between sobs Gran tells me how happy she is and how happy we will be together. She says they have wanted this for us for so long she can hardly believe it has finally happened.

  I started working with Trevor four years ago and until two days ago I only liked him because he didn’t get mad when I was drunk or late. I just thought he was a horny 20 something guy and he would get over me as soon as something hotter walked by. I guess I was wrong and hopefully Gran is right because I really think I will be devastated if this doesn’t work. No one could be more shocked then me at this new revelation. I picture Naked Newt thing again really quick and Trevor makes a face. That mind reading is awesome.

  Gran and Charles congratulate us again and Charles gives poor Trevor a knowing wink before they disappear. I jump down from the chair and hurry over to the bed. I crawl underneath because of course the present is on the other side and when I come up Trevor is smiling at me lik
e I am a goofy puppy or something. It’s his fault for being 4 million years old, not my fault for liking presents. I stick out my tongue to further demonstrate my emotional maturity but I can’t think about Trevor anymore when I have a beautifully wrapped present in my hands. I plop down on the bed and open it.

  The first thing out is a very scandalous black lace thing that I am positive is Auntie Charles’ idea. Under that is a silver tea set and at the bottom is a small bundle of white flowers, mostly baby roses and an ornamental silver dagger that almost looks like a letter opener. I can feel the majik pouring off of them. This is the real gift. A protective spell and a knife. If Demetry shows up he better not come inside. These are the strongest single items I have ever felt. The whole coven must have made them. We must really be in danger. Gran never overreacts because she knows exactly what is going to happen. Shit.

  Chapter 8: Dinner and Drinks

  We go downstairs and Trevor shows me to the small dining room. It is cozy and well decorated in period pieces. Probably because it was decorated in the period. I ask Trevor how long he has lived here and he tells me he had it built in 1852. Gold rush money. He has been in this house longer than most cities have been here. I know we are a new country but holly crap, he is old.

  “I am not that old.” Trevor.

  “I did not say that you were.” Me.

  “You were thinking it and that is the same thing.”

  “No, it is not at all the same thing and you know it. If you are going to keep reading my thoughts then you are going to keep hearing things that are either not funny enough or polite enough to say. I only say the rude thoughts out loud if they are funny or I am angry. If you don’t want to hear the unfunny rude things stay out of my head.”

  Trevor pauses for a minute and finally says that he must keep reading my thoughts because otherwise he will not know what I am thinking and that would make him uncomfortable. I cannot argue with this logic and since I am not particularly shy about my thoughts and opinions I agree to his point even though I cannot imagine finding my thoughts all that comforting.