by Eve Paludan
Sam followed some signs to the overnight guest parking. The guest lot was full, but Sam saw what she needed to verify that Amber’s vehicle was indeed parked there. Pasted on the bumper of an older white Honda CR-V was an “I Love Donuts” bumper sticker from Tyrone’s Donuts in Fullerton. It, too, had the FPD parking sticker. She also memorized that license plate.
The condo complex stairwells were too well-lit for Sam to make her way up the stairs to the third floor to Holden’s condo, 305C, and there were no shadows to lurk around it either. It was about as illuminated as a night baseball game in Angel Stadium.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw an electric golf cart with a burly security guard coming toward her, his little yellow light rotating on top of the cart. She turned her head, gave a casual little wave and rolled down her window.
He motioned for her to wait and called out, “Are you visiting someone here?”
“No, I live in a nearby apartment complex, and I’m looking for my lost cat. I thought I would widen my search and come over here.”
“What does she look like?”
“She’s a big white cat with green eyes. Fluffy is her name.”
“Haven’t seen her. And this is a no-pets complex. And a gated community.”
“The gate was open.”
“I just now fixed it. It was stuck. Sometimes it does that.”
“Okay, well, goodnight.”
“Sorry about you losing Fifi.”
“I said her name’s Fluffy.”
“Right. Follow me. I’ll lead you out to the main gate and use my clicker, so you can get out.”
“Thank you,” she told the security guard and sedately drove the minivan behind his golf cart. He pulled over at the exit gate and waved her through, then locked the gate behind her.
Now that Sam knew Amber hadn’t gone to work, a heavy weight was pressing on her chest at the first piece of infidelity evidence: Amber’s car parked in the overnight lot of Kevin’s condo complex. And Kevin was there, too, parked in his own numbered spot. It was almost enough evidence to assume that Amber was cheating on Tyrone but not quite. There could be some innocent explanation for Amber being there overnight, though she doubted it.
“Maybe he has the flu, and she’s taking care of him,” Sam said aloud, testing the believability of the words.
“Nah,” she said a moment later. But Sam also knew she had to verify the sordid details of an actual affair before she told Tyrone what she’d discovered tonight. She needed more proof.
Sam voice-texted the two license plate numbers to herself and went home to get some shuteye before the sun came up.
As it turned out, she tossed and turned, and there was no way in hell she was going to fall asleep. She went to the kitchen and saw the pink donut box on the counter. Written with a black Sharpie in Tammy’s block printing on the outside of the box was: Anthony: Don’t be a hog! These are for Mom!!!
Sam opened the box. The kids had saved her just two donuts. She figured she was going to work out later, so she ate them. They tasted just as good as they smelled, so good that she ended up licking her fingers and sniffing the inside of the box when the donuts were gone. The maple long john and a chocolate cake donut with chocolate glaze both went down so easy, like a soft, sweet daydream. She’d have to tell Tyrone how delectable his donuts were. No wonder Sherbet was so addicted to them.
All sugared up now, she went back to the bedroom, stared at the ceiling and set her alarm so that she could catch Amber at Jacky’s Gym.
Chapter 4
Without a wink of sleep all night, and now in the dark hours of pre-dawn, Sam put on her boxing workout gear and drove to Jacky’s Gym to do surveillance on Amber. At this point, she wasn’t quite sure if Amber was actually working out, or just using that as an excuse to cover her butt while she played footsie with Detective Holden outside of working hours in his condo.
Of course, the gym wasn’t open at this hour, so she had to ring the doorbell—a doorbell she was sure had not been there last week. She could see through the plate glass. It was dark in the gym and no one was in there, but Tyrone had said that Jacky opened up early for Amber, so maybe he would open up for her, too.
After a minute, there was no answer, so Sam rang the doorbell again. She heard some noise above her and looked up to see a light go on in the front window of the second floor of the building.
Then, through an intercom on the doorbell pad came Jacky’s scratchy, sleepy voice. “Samantha Moon, is that you down there?”
“Yes. How did you know that?” she asked, knowing her face didn’t show up on cameras or in mirrors.
“I have the Ring doorbell app and hardware. I knew it was you because I can see your workout sweatshirt your kids made you that says, ‘Never bring a cat to a bat fight.’”
“Yes, my kids have such a kooky sense of humor.” Now, she noted that the doorbell said RING on it. At first, she’d thought it was a suggestion, but now, she knew it was a brand name.
“Sam, is anything wrong? Never mind, don’t answer that. Who knows if this thing records all this.”
“Of course, it does,” Sam said.
“Okay, then, don’t speak anymore. Just give me a minute to get decent. I’ll come down and let you in.”
After a few minutes, he came down in sweats, and what little hair he had left was messed up from sleeping. His bulldog face even had sheet wrinkles on one cheek from sleeping on his side. He opened the door and let her in, then locked it behind her and led the way into the gym.
He smelled a little bit like laundry detergent and fabric softener. He must have just grabbed his sweats from the dryer and thrown them on.
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay. Let’s go in my office in the back, away from the door so no one can see us talking in the gym through the front window. And I really need some coffee because I’m grumpy this early.” He gave her a side glance. “You haven’t slept, Sam.”
“No, not yet. I tried, but I thought I would come and do a workout and try to wear myself out. And then hit the hay later.”
He flipped the ‘on’ switch of the old-school Mr. Coffee that he had already set up. “Do you want anything? I have vitamin water, Gatorade, coconut water, protein bars. I have fruit smoothies in the fridge, too.”
“No, thanks. I’m good. You go ahead.”
Jacky searched her face for a clue as to why she was here. “I’ve never seen you here to work out this early.”
“Or this late?” she quipped.
“Right. I’m not awake enough to spar with you and being this old, I have to warm up this old body for a while before I spar. I was expecting an early appointment this morning for our regular one-on-one kickboxing lesson, but she canceled so I slept in until you rang. I got a text message last night that she wasn’t coming all this week. She’s said she’s sick.”
“That’s too bad. I hope she’ll be all right. Whoever she is,” Sam said casually.
“To tell you the truth, I’m worried about her. Her former strength and energy levels have steadily decreased over the last few months. I don’t even know how she can work because she can’t even stand up for very long. She’s sapped. And she’s all bruised up, even cut up, even though she has wounds in places that I would never, ever hit anyone during sparring. Little wounds, mostly, but they overlap as if they happened over a period of time, over and over.” He sighed. “But that’s not why you came—not to hear about the cancellation of one of my kickboxing students.”
“I’m sorry to hear that she’s ill or hurt, but I don’t mind talking about it. Maybe I can help. Do you think she’s being abused?”
“I haven’t asked her yet, but it’s been on my mind. I hesitate to ask a woman that question because if she wanted my help, she’d tell me. And if I bring it up and she feels defensive about her abuser, she’s going to break ties with me for asking about the cuts and bruises, so she doesn’t have to deal with admitting that she’s sticking up for him. And s
ticking with him.”
“I dearly hope it’s not that,” Sam said, chagrined at this possible situation.
“It just makes me uncomfortable because she’s a cop. So, I can’t just go to her house by getting her address from my billing records and just beating the shit out of her husband like I feel like doing.”
“Yeah, that would never do,” Sam said. “Don’t do that. Besides, you don’t know if she’s being abused or if she is, if it’s even him doing it.”
“Who else could it be?” Jacky asked, his bushy eyebrows briefly going north.
“A guy on the side, maybe?”
“Sam. If it was anyone else, maybe. But her?” he said in his gravelly voice. “I can’t imagine she would cheat on her husband. I mean, I haven’t met the guy to know if he’s good to her, but she seems like a stand-by-her-man kind of gal. Faithful for life, you know the type.”
Sam nodded.
Jacky got up and poured himself a mug of fresh, steaming coffee, then sat down at his desk again. He looked across his desk at Sam, who was now standing and admiring the photos on the office wall of some of the people he’d trained.
She complained, “My picture’s not in your rogues’ gallery. My feelings are so hurt.”
He laughed and laughed. “Sam, you kill me with your jokes.”
She grinned at him. He probably knew she was a vampire, but they didn’t talk about it.
“You want to talk about your problem that brought you here this early?”
Sam cleared her throat. “We kind of already talked about it.”
Realization crossed his face. “Oh, no, you came here early to find her, and you found out she wasn’t coming. And I blabbed all of this personal stuff about her.”
Sam nodded slightly.
“I feel terrible. As a rule, I don’t talk about my private clients or their personal lives.”
“I know you don’t, Jacky.”
“Well, I know she isn’t a criminal. So, I guess you might be trying to protect her from something, right?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
“That means you have an investigation in progress.”
“Again, same answer.”
“You didn’t come here to work out. You were hoping to run into her.”
Sam didn’t answer the question. “I’ll come by later in the week and we’ll spar, okay? And then, I’ll take you for a big steak.”
“Sure, that sounds great. But call first. I gotta do my business income taxes all this weekend, but after that, I’d love to see you and have you beat me up again real good. What can I say? I’m a glutton for your sparring punishment, and your free steak dinner apologies are delicious.”
Sam laughed. “Thanks, Jacky. You’re the best boxing coach ever.”
“I try. Listen, if you find out she needs help, like someone needs to drag her husband into a dark alley and beat him up—or even to thrash the side man you hinted about, you let me know, kiddo. I love punishing abusers.”
“So do I. In fact, I take great satisfaction in it.”
He came around the desk and hugged Sam until her back crackled.
“What was that for?”
“Just for being you.” After a moment, he said, “Are you always that cold?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “See you again at the usual time and day?”
“Of course.”
He yawned. “I feel my age at this hour.”
“I’ll see you later this week,” she said.
“Be careful and keep your hands up in a fight,” he said like the boxing coach he was.
She lifted her fists in front of her face in the usual boxing stance: right hand by her chin, left hand in front of her face, chin down, eyes up.
“Always,” she said before she left the gym. He unlocked the door, let her out and locked up again.
She knew he was going back to bed to finish sleeping. Ah, to be human again and biorhythmic to the sun instead of the night…
***
Sam decided to go back to Kevin Holden’s condo and see what was going on inside of it, since Amber Tarkington was probably still there. Her husband would have left home for the donut shop by this hour and if she wasn’t at Kevin’s, then Sam would head over to the Tarkington house and see if she was, by now, sleeping in her own bed—though she did remember Tyrone telling her she hadn’t slept at home for a while.
Hell, last night, Tyrone probably thought she was working the graveyard shift all night long. Sam was certainly not expecting her to be shacking up at her partner’s condo. If that was indeed what she was doing over there.
Since the security guard of the condo complex had already seen Sam and was already suspicious of her admittedly lame story about losing her imaginary cat, she had only two ways left to get in some surveillance time at the condo. And both of those methods would use her supernatural powers, which she probably should have used in the first place, instead of trying to investigate the case like a human detective would. Obviously, she didn’t need to do that, but at the outset of this case, she didn’t think it would be that hard to catch Amber if she was, indeed, cheating on Tyrone.
The first way she could spy on Amber and Kevin at his condo would be to get naked, put her clothes into a backpack, transform herself into her primeval form that looked somewhere between a baby pterodactyl and a giant bat, and fly over there. She could land on the balcony, change back into her woman’s body and her clothes and peek through the blinds. That wouldn’t take much effort at all. By now, flying came as naturally to her as breathing used to be. But she could be spotted because a condo complex had a lot more observers and cameras on the grounds than a private home usually would. She didn’t really want to deal with those big wings on that small balcony either.
The other way would be tougher because it would require deep concentration and travel to a fairly close proximity to the condo—because the farther her mind had to travel, the more strength it took out of her. She would have to park somewhere quiet where she could zone out and not be disturbed so her mind could travel where her body could not or should not. If she visualized the single flame in her mind and focused on it to send her consciousness into the condo, she would be able to enter unseen. No one would be able to see her, but she would be able to see and hear everything, up close and personal.
She decided on that second surveillance option.
It turned out all the free street parking in Kevin’s neighborhood was taken, so Sam was forced to find a pay lot a few blocks away and park. She paid with cash, grabbed her receipt and went back to her vehicle, locking herself in. She put up her solar screen, so no one could see her sitting behind the wheel, closed her eyes and brought up the image of the single flame in her mind. Then she visualized herself in the flame. Then she brought up into her mind’s eye the image of the condo complex and the condo number on the third floor: 305C.
And then, she traveled there remotely. Or her consciousness did.
Now invisible, Sam’s consciousness lurked just outside the condo window where Kevin lived. She could have gone inside, but she already felt creepy enough. The blinds weren’t quite closed all the way and when she looked up through the angled slits of the blinds, she could see that Amber and Kevin were both in the living room of the condo. There was a gym bag sitting on the floor with a key card clipped to it that read: Day-or-Night 24-Hour Gym. And a partially crinkled parking receipt that showed her what time he liked to arrive at and leave his gym.
Kevin Holden was sitting sideways on the couch with his legs up off the floor. He was built like a swimmer, lean and muscular, and long. Everywhere, in fact. Not one ounce of fat, except maybe between his ears. He must use that gym membership every day to be that lean.
He was wearing nothing but a smile, and it was pretty damn obvious to Sam that he was very excited to have Amber walking across his living room in a frilly, frothy piece of Victoria’s Secret lingerie. Sam recognized the brand because Danny had once bought her th
at same red lingerie set, long before she had become a vampire.
Amber straddled Kevin’s lap and leaned over to offer him… her neck.
Sam took another look at Kevin Holden in the low light of the candle burning on the coffee table and suddenly noticed that he was pale, really pale, as pale as Sam was.
Sam thought Kevin was going to kiss the smooth creamy column of Amber’s neck, but instead, he bit it. Bit it!
Oh, no. Not this. Not this!
Detective Sherbet must have had an inkling of this situation. She would have to ask him later.
While Kevin bit Amber’s neck, he stroked her back in a soothing way with one hand and caressed one of her breasts with the other, slipping it inside her fancy lingerie.
Sam could see him swallowing her blood, of which he spilled not a drop. By then, she definitely knew what he was.
He’s a freaking vampire.
Amber wasn’t fighting it. In fact, she was moaning in pleasure as he suckled from her neck and moved the hand that was previously on her back to in between her legs where he was apparently doing something fun to her, judging from the sounds she was making.
Sam was almost done here. She wanted to leave, but she had to satisfy herself that he wasn’t going to kill Amber. So, she vowed to tear herself away from this intimate sexual scene between vampire and feeder as soon as she knew that Amber would live through it. Sam averted her eyes away from the sexy stuff to look at the damage to Amber’s body, which Jacky had kind of described to Sam, though apparently, he didn’t know about the neck bites and the trails of them on her inner arms and especially inner elbows.
Judging from the look of the marks on her body, Amber’s detective partner had been feeding from her for a long, long time. Months, if not years. And apparently, this was something they did a lot. She wasn’t in the least resisting him and was, in fact, enjoying the hell out of this twisted scene as the male vampire detective pleasured her with his hands while he took his meal.