by Ally Shields
“Um, I guess.” She really didn’t want to talk about the past tonight. “Samuel, it was nice to meet you.” She turned to Andreas. “It’s late. I should be going. I still have patrol.”
“Have you looked outside recently? No self-respecting evil doer is out in this weather. And you have not met the rest of my staff and housemates. In light of the situation, they’ll need to know who you are.”
What situation? Ari wondered. Yesterday’s attack or their dating?
She glanced at the window. The rain was coming down in sheets, and lightning flashed now and then; a typical Midwest summer storm brought on by the excessive heat earlier in the day. “Looks like Mother Nature’s on your side.” Actually, he was right about meeting his staff, and she had to admit she was happy to have an excuse to prolong the evening. She’d never before spent so much time in harmony with Andreas. She flashed him a smile. “At least for now, lead on.”
In the next room, four vampires and three weretigers jumped to their feet when Andreas opened the door. Ari got the impression their boss didn’t often make unannounced visits.
When Andreas had introduced Ari, a vampire he’d identified as Cedric came over to them.
“We haven’t met before, but I’ve heard your name.” Cedric said to Ari. “Are you working on the murders? Jules was a friend.”
“Yes, we’re working with the PD. I’m sorry about your friend. Were you close?”
“Close enough to miss him.”
“My regrets also,” Andreas said. “I was not aware of your friendship. It there anything you can tell us that might identify his killer?”
“Not that I can think of. He spent most of his time with Lorraine. Griped about the counseling she insisted on, and her family, but nothing else I remember.”
“What did he say about the counseling?” Ari asked, curious to hear Jules’s side of the story, even if second hand.
“Something made him uncomfortable, reluctant to go back. Something ‘weird’ I think he said. They quit going after the bonding, and Jules was happy about that.”
Weird, huh? Ari quirked her lips. Wasn’t that the definition of counseling?
After they spent a brief time talking with the others vampires and weretigers, Andreas and Ari left. Once they were back in the hallway, Ari asked him about the weretigers.
“Is there a reason you chose that lycanthrope group?”
“There was a reason two hundred years ago. Members of this same family have been with me that long.”
“Really? That’s tremendous loyalty.” She smiled to herself when he caught her hand as they walked toward the stairs. “Tell me the story behind it.” She loved listening to him talk; the whisper of Italian in his voice would sound good reading the tax code. Hearing pieces of his fascinating history was an added bonus.
“Their human grandfather worked in our vineyards. He was infected while defending my uncle from a weretiger attack. At that period in history, werecreatures were thought to be evil.” Andreas pulled her to him and slipped his arm around her waist as they started down the staircase. “They were hunted and executed. My family sheltered him, kept his secret. When I returned from England as a vampire, I recruited him for my personal staff. His children and their children have remained in my service.”
Ari was impressed with his beautiful home and his loyal, competent staff. No security worries here. The club was his only vulnerable spot, and she intended to keep working on it.
“I’d love to hear the rest of your history,” she said, tipping her head to look up at him, “but not tonight. It’s time I went home. Raining or not.”
“You could stay here.”
Ari shook her head. “Not a good idea.”
“There are three guest suites,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her. “You would like Chantilly.”
“I’m not staying.” She pulled a step ahead.
Reaching the second floor, Andreas turned south, grabbed her hand again, and opened a door at the end. “Tell me what you think.”
White with blue trim. Crisp and feminine. A four-poster bed with a lace canopy dominated the room. 18th or 19th century, whenever they made the furniture with the fancy bowed legs.
“Chantilly Suite,” he said simply.
The floors gleamed of cherry wood, but the doors, framing, and wainscoting were white. A soft white rug under the bed, a snowy canopy and matching lace swags contrasted with the blue drapes at the windows. The bed covering was icy blue; several dark blue pillows were tossed on top. On the left was a small private lounge; a private bath and spa on the right.
“It’s beautiful.” She looked at him. “Did you choose the decor?”
His voice lit with pleasure. “I did. It is mostly Queen Anne.”
“A man of many talents. You know women even better than I thought you did.”
“I am glad you like it,” he said smoothly, ignoring the other implications.
Who had inspired this room? How many women had he entertained here? Disturbing to think about, but Ari knew he hadn’t been a monk. She’d drive herself crazy if she delved into that part of his past.
“It’s perfect,” she said. “Who wouldn’t like it? But I’m still going home.” No way was she staying in the same house with Andreas. Not ready for that. There was too much chemistry between them for a simple sleepover.
“Then I will drive you,” he said, accepting her decision. “No need for you to get soaking wet.” He pointed down the staircase. At the bottom, they exited into a four-car garage with two black vans, a silver Lexus SUV, and a sleek, black Ferrari. Andreas opened the passenger door of the Ferrari, and Ari slid onto the luxurious seat.
The car purred its way through the wet city streets, putting an end to the evening. When Andreas pulled over in front of her apartment building, she leaned over with a quick kiss. She wasn’t quick enough. He caught her and pulled her against him, deepening the kiss. When he ran his tongue over her lips, she opened for him. By the time the kiss ended, Ari thought the windows must be steaming.
Andreas gave her a wry grin. “Sweet dreams, cara mia.”
Stifling a reluctant sigh, Ari jumped out into the rain without waiting for him to get wet too, and sprinted for the building. She closed her apartment door and leaned against it. Andreas’s kiss lingered on her mouth. She had a lot to think about. Until those last moments, he’d been on his best behavior tonight, the perfect gentleman, asking nothing of her. And he had let her into his private life. A big step for both of them, but no matter what her racing pulse thought, she didn’t want to rush the other steps. No hurry, she thought, a warmth growing inside. All the best wines took time.
Chapter Ten
By morning the rain had become intermittent, providing a low canopy of clouds. Despite the threatening skies, Ari completed her morning run and took a quick swing through Goshen Park. Everything there appeared to be in order. She sprinted the rest of the way home and jumped in the shower. The first of two office appointments rescheduled from yesterday were due in less than an hour. Before then, she intended to check in with Ryan as promised.
On her way out the door, Eddie West called her cell.
“You sound cheerful,” Ari said. She closed the door behind her and hurried toward the Magic Hall.
“You bet! Any day out of jail is a good one.” His voice had a grin in it. “But I heard about the latest shooting. Was Andreas hurt?”
“He’s fine. No one was hurt.”
“Is this connected to the other shootings?”
“Who’s asking? Eddie the concerned friend or Eddie the crime reporter?”
“We’re inseparable. But most of the facts were in the police report. I’ve already read it. I’ll only print what’s public info,” he coaxed. “Isn’t my time of incarceration worth something?”
“Actually, it’s a good reason not to discuss the case with you. But off the record, we haven’t ruled out anything. The shots at Andreas were from a drive-by. The earlier incidents were up close an
d personal.”
“But the victims are all vampires. And the perp was someone with a gun. A human’s choice of weapon. Got a vamp stalker, don’t we?” His voice held suppressed excitement.
“Whoa! That sounds like a headline-in-the-making to me. Exactly the kind of speculation we don’t want tossed about. There’s no proof for that theory, Eddie. The cause of death in both murders is undetermined.”
“Wait a minute. Undetermined? The two victims weren’t shot? When was that decided?”
“No comment. And that’s official. So drop it. You’ve got all you’re getting. And don’t you dare print any unsubstantiated speculation.”
“OK, guess I owe you one.” Eddie sighed. “Can we at least talk about what happened at the club? That was a gun, right? The police report said Andreas specified a handgun.”
“Yes, it was a drive-by.”
“So are you thinking this is different than the murders? A copycat, basing his actions on the earlier press accounts? Or was this personal? Andreas must have enemies.”
“Good questions, but I don’t have the answers yet. Give it a rest, Eddie. Take off your reporter hat, and tell me how you’re doing. And how Lorraine’s doing.”
“Oh, well, it’s amazing how sweet life can look after being locked up for days.” He laughed, the sound a little forced. “And my sister? She’s getting by. I still don’t understand how my gentle sister could fall in love with a vampire, but I’m trying to be supportive. Mother’s no help, not now that Lorraine knows how much she hated Jules. But don’t try to change the subject. How’s this trouble at Shale’s agency fit it with the murders? Or does it?”
“What trouble do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
“You haven’t heard? Saw it coming to work. Somebody spray painted their building in big red letters, HOUSE OF MONSTERS.”
* * *
When she arrived at Shale & Associates, Ryan and Shale were locked in a heated conversation and most of the paint had been removed. Ari saw the upper tips of the H and M. The two-man crew stood by their ladders and cleaning supplies, waiting for the outcome of the men’s dispute. Ari joined the discussion in time to hear Shale say it was nothing more than racial graffiti. He’d called his insurance carrier, and they’d told him to take pictures and clean it up. He hadn’t thought to tell the police. Ryan was steamed. He’d heard about the vandalism when TV Channel 12 called for a statement. He stalked off in disgust, and Ari returned to work. There was nothing left to see, but Channel 12 could expect a warrant for their film.
The incident warranted only a 30-second spot on the evening news, but the next morning The Clarion broke the expanded story on page one. Local Agency Dubbed HOUSE OF MONSTERS. It wasn’t the main headline, but the drama was bound to capture community attention. Ari worried about public reaction. The article stopped short of stating Riverdale had a serial killer or rogue vampire hunter, but it laid out, and by inference connected, the four incidents: the murders, the drive-by, and the vandalism. Ari wanted to strangle Eddie. As promised, he hadn’t printed anything that wasn’t public information, but she doubted Ryan would find any comfort in that. She found very little herself.
* * *
After reading the article, she checked her overnight phone messages and found a long message from Ryan about irresponsible reporters and keeping them in jail where they belonged. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ari suppressed a chuckle. Ryan’s second message, left ten minutes after the first, said, “Never mind. I’ve had my coffee now,” and she laughed out loud.
By 10:15 that night, however, none of them were laughing. The three local TV channels led the news with the vampire story, including interviews with many of the witnesses. Cameras spotlighted the parking lot at the Woodland Inn, the shelter in Goshen Park, even the exterior of Club Dintero. Channel 12 ended their piece with a display of the spray-painted agency in full living color. The clear message in every report was Riverdale had a serial killer eliminating vampires.
Late into the night and early the next morning, Ari’s phone rang several times. Ryan was called to the station, and the public was in full outcry. She had called Eddie right away, and when she quit berating him for an instant, he denied sharing information with anyone.
“Look at my article,” he said. “Do you see the names in there? Do you think I want them hounding my sister?” He’d been indignant that Ari’d thought he would even consider leaking the details. “My story was scooped.”
When Ryan reached the news desk at Channel 12, the station that filmed most of the witnesses, he was told they’d received an anonymous email detailing the crime scenes and listing names or possible locations of witnesses. Realizing this information could only have come from a few sources, including the killer, the PD tech department jumped on the task of backtracking the email through cyberspace. Ari and Ryan weren’t optimistic they’d find the killer this way. He’d been too careful in everything else.
“If this was our suspect,” Ryan asked, in a late afternoon phone call with Ari, “why the sudden craving for publicity? Why now? What’s he want?”
“Could be a psycho who’s escalating,” she said. “Wants the world to know how smart he is. I wasn’t convinced the vandalism was connected, until it was included in the email. Maybe your PD shrink or the state profilers can use the email for a profile, give us a hand with a possible motive? Even figure out the link to Shale’s agency.”
“But the agency isn’t connected to Andreas.”
Ari frowned. “So maybe he was targeted for a different reason, or someone saw him there the night of our interview. We can’t ignore the fact that two of the victims were clients at the center. Our killer has been there. Maybe using the agency as his stalking grounds, selecting potential victims.” She paused, as a thought occurred to her. “Maybe he’s there now, using the agency for camouflage. Hiding under our noses.”
* * *
Despite Ari’s fears the killer was escalating, the rest of the week was uneventful. The public gradually calmed with nothing new to stir the press’s imagination.
Unfortunately, the investigation didn’t make any big leaps either. Gillian’s report on the second crime scene came in. Similar patterns to the first scene: numerous readings, both human and Otherworld. Since she’d detected the demon trace again, stronger this time, Ari asked her to take the testing to the next level, identification of subtypes. Ari was grabbing at straws, searching less likely avenues now, but even negative information was better than none. She re-interviewed witnesses, family members, and friends, seeking new links between the victims, something they missed the first time. She didn’t find them.
The email was tracked to a computer at the public library. Since the computer was available for general use, stayed busy most of the day, and users weren’t recorded, it was another dead end.
Acting upon the theory the killer held a particular hatred for, or a grudge against, vampires, Ryan’s officers researched anti-vamp organizations and located five groups that had registered members in Riverdale. The only acts of violence by four of the groups were spontaneous confrontations: heated tempers erupting into bar fights and public harassment of individuals. Not cold-blooded executions. Despite this history, Ryan and Ari interviewed local chapter leaders. Due to the obvious animosity his presence would stir, Andreas watched the interviews by hidden camera. None of the four exhibited the necessary level of fanaticism to commit multiple murders. The investigative team crossed them off the suspect list.
The fifth group was a possibility. The international organization of Human Supremacy had a bloody history and a well-earned reputation for outspoken bigotry. Ari took an instant dislike to the local leader. Bob Blair, a short, flabby guy with a bird-size brain, was an ex-con. Two counts of aggravated assault, a half-page of misdemeanors. He wore an armband with the group’s chosen symbol, a swastika with a wooden stake through the middle. So imaginative. Like the Pure Blood vampire gang, these guys didn’t bother with subtle. It occurred to A
ri that putting the two groups together in one room might solve a lot of problems.
“You better bet I hate vamps,” Blair told them. “They’re killers. Vicious from the second they’re transformed. Only way to keep humans safe is to kill every bloodsucker—the sooner, the better. We’ve a duty to protect ourselves. ’Course, we keep it legal,” he added, with a surprisingly high-pitched chuckle. “Self-defense.” He showed Ryan his leather belt with five carved X’s. “Them’s my vamp kills.”
Ari thinned her lips in disgust. His blatant bragging rang false. The vampires wouldn’t sit around and allow known vamp killers to go unpunished. The fact he was still alive was evidence of his inflated claims. She wondered what Andreas was thinking in the other room. Whatever else happened, the local vampires would be keeping tabs on Blair’s little group from now on.
When Ryan asked Blair about the specific murders of Jules and Patricia, the suspect grew evasive, raising their suspicions. He shrugged. “Okay, I admit we can’t take credit for those two. Some new player in town. I can only admire his work.”
When they were convinced Blair had no information on the ‘new player,’ he was dismissed. He could be lying, of course, but it seemed unlikely. Blair wasn’t nearly clever enough to be the guy they were looking for.
Andreas and his staff didn’t have any better luck in finding leads on the murders or the drive-by within the vampire community. No one had a strong enough grudge against him or the club, and they didn’t find any indication of recent interference from Toronto. If Sebastian had new spies in town, they were well undercover.