Spark

by R K Close

  I WANTED TO SHOOT THE scene just as the sun was setting, with the forest behind me for dramatic effect. We’d have to drive thirty minutes there and back, but I felt it was worth it.

  I managed to convince my boss to let me air the story on the nine o’clock news. With barely enough time to catch the sunset, Daisy and I were on our way to the trailhead to shoot the report. The sun had just dipped below the tree line, and the sky was breathtaking. A part of me wanted to just sit on the side of the road and enjoy it.

  My professional side wanted that sunset and the forest as the backdrop for our report. Daisy and I stared at the sky a moment longer, then got busy setting up. I went over my notes and key points, and Daisy set up her camera and lights, then played with the exposure.

  We were ready to roll when my phone rang. I’d forgotten to silence it, which happened more than I liked to admit. I began fishing it out of my jacket pocket, and Daisy rolled her eyes.

  “This is Jessica Parker.”

  “Jess, it’s Lorie.”

  “Hey, Lorie! Can I call you right back? We’re trying to shoot a story, and I’m losing my sunset.”

  “Forget the sunset. I’ve got a question for you. How the hell did you get that glass? Better yet, where did you get that glass?” Lorie demanded.

  The seriousness of her voice caught me off guard. “What...what do you mean?” I stammered, as I put her on speaker phone so Daisy could hear.

  “Those prints belong to a dead guy.”

  Silence ensued as Daisy and I stared blankly at each other, the beautiful sunset forgotten.

  “That’s impossible. He was fully alive when he drank the wine,” I said, my mind racing, trying to make sense out of what she was saying.

  “There were only three sets of prints on the glass. Yours, a woman named Zoey Espinoza, and a hitman from the Italian mafia named Lorenzo Romano,” Lorie said, sounding edgy. “What have you got me into, Parker?”

  I blinked several times at Daisy, whose eyes were huge behind her black-rimmed glasses. As the sun was setting and the sky was growing dimmer, Daisy began peering into the trees nervously.

  “That’s completely impossible. You must have mixed up the prints. Did you speak to the person who did the test?” I asked, thinking of logical ways a dead man’s prints could be associated with the wine glass that I’d supplied. The only explanation was an error.

  “I ran the test, Jess. There were no mistakes, and the prints were perfect and clear. Now, I’ll ask one more time, and then I’m walking away. Where did you get this glass?” Lorie asked.

  “Are you in trouble for doing this for me?” I asked cautiously.

  “I have a friend in IT, he’s waiting for a phone call from me, and if I give him the word, he’s going to delete that this request ever went through the system, hopefully before someone notices the hit.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “If you’re certain there were no mistakes made, then why don’t you call your friend? I’ll try to figure this out on my end,” I suggested.

  There was a pause. “Fine. Whatever you’re involved in, you should walk away,” Lorie said. “This guy was bad news when he was alive, and anything to do with him is nothing you want to be involved with.”

  “Thanks for the advice and the help, Lorie.” I thought for a moment. “When did he die?” I asked, mostly out of curiosity.

  “Over twenty years ago. He was found murdered, most likely a professional hit. He was pronounced dead by the coroner's office in New York City, but his body was stolen from the morgue and never recovered.”

  That was all Daisy needed to hear. She was packing up her equipment with the speed of a squirrel on crack. I waved at her to hold off. We still had to film with or without the lovely sunset. Daisy shot me a pained look but stopped her frantic task.

  “Well, that’s an interesting, yet creepy detail. How old was Lorenzo when he was murdered?” I asked.

  “Um...looks like the death certificate says twenty-eight.”

  “I’m curious why Zoey’s prints were in the system,” I asked, mostly thinking out loud.

  “She was arrested for a domestic disturbance in Tucson last year. Be safe, Parker,” Lorie said before the call went dead.

  Domestic disturbance, huh? I wondered what Zoey’s story was.

  Daisy was standing nervously beside the tripod she set up for the second time that evening. There was hardly any light left in the sky.

  “Daisy, relax. I know how it sounded, but let’s get real. People don’t come back from the dead. There has to be a logical explanation. I’ll talk to Zoey. Maybe she can shine some light on this—give us something we haven’t considered yet.” I held the microphone, waiting for her to agree.

  “I don’t like this, Jess. That was too weird. And he totally looked Italian!” Daisy exclaimed.

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Tell me he didn’t look like a Lorenzo Romano?” she demanded. I knew if I told her that the guy came to my home and said his name was Lorenzo Romano, we’d never get our segment filmed and she might even pack up and leave town. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind when Lorie said that name.

  “Okay, in a totally stereotypical way, yes,” I admitted. “But Daisy, come on. Are you even going to try to assume he came back from the dead, didn’t age a bit—because that man wasn’t a day past thirty—then drank a glass of wine while picking a fight with the McKenzies?”

  I saw the moment that Daisy realized how crazy her suspicious thoughts were. She laughed nervously, but still glanced around one more time. I smiled back at her and raised my mic as if preparing to be filmed. “Ready?” I asked, feeling a tiny bit guilty for not giving Daisy all the information.

  She smiled sheepishly at me then moved behind the lens. “Ready,” she replied. She held up her fingers to silently countdown from three.

  Three, two, one...

  A bright light shown in my eyes, but I kept my face completely neutral as if I wouldn’t be completely blind by the time Daisy killed the lights.

  “This is Jessica Parker with KUTV News at Nine, with an important update regarding the two campers found dead just four nights ago...”

  12

  Liam

  After several tequila shots and a few beer chasers, Seth, Cole, and I were feeling good.

  “So, do we leave that creep alone or send him packing?” Cole asked.

  “I say an eye for an eye,” Seth said in a cheery tone that didn’t match what he was implying.

  “If he’s what Zoey said he is, he’s already dead. I think we need more answers from our red-headed bartender,” I said. College basketball was playing on a couple of the televisions hanging above the L-shaped bar. Another was playing a local station but was on commercials at that moment.

  It was a few minutes before nine o’clock, and I found myself glancing at the screen that would be showing the local news. Jessica worked for KUTV, and it was almost a given that she’d be seen reporting on something happening around town. Sometimes, she’d do reports in neighboring Sedona, Phoenix, and occasionally Tucson.

  Seth noticed that I was distracted. Leaning back in his chair, he grinned at me. “Waiting for your girl to show up on the nightly news, Liam?” Seth teased. I shot him an annoyed look, hoping he’d drop it.

  I didn’t want to believe his soul-mate or fated-mate idea about Jessica and me, but I also couldn’t ignore my feelings for her. It wasn’t normal in any way, but yet, it felt so natural. It was my head that refused to accept this explanation, even if deep down I wanted it to be her.

  Seeing my discomfort, Cole joined Seth as they watched me with wide grins, as if they had me all figured out. “Big brother’s got a crush. And here I thought you’d be a lonely old bachelor.”

  Watching them leaning back in their chairs with their arms crossed over their chests made me want to teach them both a lesson. I linked my foot around Cole’s chair leg and pulled. Cole crashed down onto the floor of the bar, but Seth
was too fast for me. He sat his chair down before I could do the same to him.

  “Okay, okay,” Cole laughed from his prone position on the floor.

  Laughing, I reached down to help Cole up. The bar had filled up since we’d arrived and we had drawn the attention of just about everyone there. Once they saw that we were laughing, even Cole, they began to lose interest, and slowly went back to their drinks and conversations.

  “Back to the topic. I think we need to find this...” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “...vamp and tell him to get the hell out of town.”

  “I’ll go along with that, but how do we find him?” Seth asked.

  “Well, we know he goes to bars. I think that’s where he first met or saw the two campers. Remember the matchbook at the campsite? We know that the vamp and the campers had the Burning Moon in common,” I said.

  “Flagstaff has more bars than fast food joints. Do we go bar hopping every night and hope we don’t become alcoholics before we find him?” Seth complained, then signaled the waitress for another round.

  “I thought you’d love this idea, Seth. Won’t you feel right at home?” Cole teased, and I laughed. Seth ignored Cole’s comment completely.

  “I think it will be best if we divide and conquer. Each night we split and go to three different bars from nine to eleven. That’s when the vamp arrived at the Moon the other night,” I said.

  “What do we do if we see him?” Cole asked.

  “Call in the reinforcements,” I said, slapping Seth’s shoulder. “We can get to just about anywhere in town in under five minutes.”

  “That could work,” Seth said. The waitress brought three more draft beers and set them on the table. Seth gave her a smile and a five-dollar tip. She beamed at him and went back to the bar. Seth had that effect on most women. Don’t know what happened to Cole and me. Maybe we just didn’t work it like he did. I think I still remembered how to flirt.

  “Let’s do it. We can start tomorrow night since we’re off shift the next few days,” Cole said, with his usual enthusiasm.

  “Maybe we should talk to Zoey one more time before we confront this guy,” Seth said. I put my finger to my lips and stared at the television above the bar.

  Cole and Seth followed me as I moved to the bar. “Turn that up, please,” I asked the bartender. He stopped wiping down the glass he was holding to pick up a remote and point it at the television.

  The news channel was showing the faces of the two campers. Below their smiling faces were the names, Chance Riggs and Becca Ford.

  “KUTV reporter, Jessica Parker has a special update regarding the two hikers, now identified as...” a male voice was saying.

  Jessica, standing in front of a wooded area, appeared on the screen. The shot showed her from the waist up, holding a microphone. Her face was serious as she struggled to keep the strands of her blonde hair from blowing across her face.

  “This is Jessica Parker with KUTV News at Nine, with an important update regarding the two campers found dead just four nights ago in a remote area of the Coconino National Forest. The two hikers have been identified as twenty-seven-year-old Chance Riggs of Las Vegas, Nevada, and his girlfriend, twenty-five-year-old Becca Ford, also of Las Vegas. Their families have been notified, and their deaths are still under investigation by the Coconino County Sheriff’s Department.” Jessica continued to struggle with the wind in her hair.

  So, the campers now had names. It helped to humanize them. We’d been referring to them as the campers for so long, but they were people who lost their futures to a monster.

  My gaze stayed glued to Jessica’s face. It was difficult to tell exactly where she was, but I had an awful feeling it was the same area where the camp...Chance and Becca were found.

  “KUTV has it under good authority that their deaths will be ruled as homicides, although the sheriff’s department is not willing to confirm this information at this time. Both victims were reported to be missing most of their blood, but puncture marks along the carotid artery of each victim, were the only injuries found. The wounds on the necks of the victims are assumed to be where the blood loss originated from.” Jessica seemed to pause to collect her thoughts and refer to a small notepad she held in her other hand.

  Seth, Cole, and I shared anxious glances with each other before turning back to the screen.

  “After speaking with Special Agent Bethany Lancaster with the FBI in Cleveland, Ohio, we’ve learned that vampirism is actually a mental condition that some individuals believe they have. The news show Twenty-Twenty aired a report about an entire underground society that spans the globe. While many of these self-proclaimed vampires also claim to despise harming others, questions still arise. Could vampirism be a factor in these murders? From Coconino National Forest and KUTV News, this is Jessica Parker, saying goodnight, and be safe, Flagstaff.”

  The program switched to a commercial, and I looked at my brothers. “I have to warn her. She has no idea what she’s doing.” I ran my hands through my hair and moved to leave. I needed to find Jessica.

  Seth stood in my way and put his hands on my shoulders. “What are you going to tell her, Liam? Stop and think about this. We don’t really know what Zoey is hiding—”

  “Stop talking about her like that. She’s not our enemy, or she wouldn’t have warned Liam,” Cole interrupted, looking agitated.

  “Just because you have a high school crush on the woman doesn’t mean she’s not hiding something,” Seth said to Cole.

  “Maybe I can make her understand that she’s drawing too much attention to herself. I don’t plan to tell her our secrets, Seth,” I said, pushing his hands away.

  “Okay, okay. Let’s all go talk to Zoey and then you can check on your girl,” Seth suggested. “Wait a minute.” Seth turned to the bar to settle our tab, and Cole and I grabbed our jackets from the coat rack. Seth walked over, and I handed him his coat. We left the upstairs bar and walked down the stairs and through the lobby filled with students, locals, and a few visiting parents.

  We made our way down the street to the Burning Moon. I didn’t even have Jessica’s number. What an idiot I was. So busy keeping her at arm’s length that I never asked for her phone number. No wonder she glared after me when I drove away that morning.

  We crossed the street, and I walked into the Burning Moon for the second time that evening. I scanned the now full bar for any sign of the vampire, but didn’t see him. Zoey caught my eye and pointed to the small television screen above the bar. Then she shook her head. She must have seen Jessica’s report as well.

  We walked up to the bar and sat down in the last three empty seats. For appearance’s sake, I’d order three more beers. It was a good thing we were shifters, or we’d be falling all over the place by now.

  Zoey came to take our order but didn’t look receptive to talking. Her body language was stiff and formal.

  “Three drafts, Zoey,” I said.

  “Please,” Cole added shyly. Zoey paused and looked at Cole, then rewarded him with a warm smile.

  Cole suddenly looked like we hadn’t been talking about vampires and shit all night. The smile on his face was infectious. I found myself smiling too.

  When Zoey returned with our beers, I asked, “Can we talk to you?”

  She hesitated. It was a busy night, so there were two bartenders working. Zoey looked around the bar. Then she said, “Give me a minute.”

  She took several orders, served the drinks, filled several baskets with peanuts and small pretzels, then said something to the other bartender. He continued drawing a mug of beer but nodded his head. She wiped her hands on her black apron and nodded for us to join her as she walked to the door by the bathrooms marked Employees Only.

  We followed her inside. Zoey stopped in the hall. When the door closed, it muffled out most of the noise from the crowded bar.

  “I only have a minute. What your girl did was not good, Liam,” Zoey said, her green eyes flashing.

  “Would everyone sto
p calling Jessica Parker my girl. I just met her,” I said. Zoey raised her eyebrows at me as if I’d just lied about having my hand in a cookie jar.

  “What do you guys want from me? I’ve already told you more than I should have,” Zoey said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Yeah, why did you say anything? Why do you care?” Seth asked, leaning his arm on the wall above her head. He didn’t seem to ruffle her feathers in the least. She just gave Seth an annoyed look.

  “Because you three seem pretty clueless and I didn’t want to see you get hurt. Maybe I’m a nice person,” she said with a look that dared Seth to argue with her.

  Luckily, he didn’t. “How do you know about vampires or...us?” I asked.

  She looked angry now. “That’s not your concern. Next question. The clock is running.”

  “How can we stop him?” Cole asked. Zoey’s face softened when she looked at Cole.

  “I don’t know that you can. My best advice is to stay away. And I’d keep an eye on your girlfriend. She stepped in it big-time tonight. Vampires are a touchy bunch. She practically accused them of having a mental disorder.” Zoey touched Cole’s arm as she slipped past him to return to the bar.

  Cole, Seth, and I stood in the empty hall, holding our now warm beers, and said nothing for a few moments. Then Seth broke the silence.

  “We can’t let him come here and murder people. He needs to go, or we don’t deserve to call this place home.”

  “I agree. I don’t think we can sit back knowing he killed those two people, while we hope the big bad vampire leaves town,” I said.

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll stake out the bars tomorrow night. If we find him, we’ll escort his designer ass out of town,” Cole said, still bouncing from one foot to the other. Sometimes his energy was a good thing, and other times, like now, it put me on edge.

  I looked at my brothers, both deep in their own thoughts, and I worried for the first time about their safety and all the wrong ways that this situation could play out.

  For the first time in years, I was unsure if I was doing the right thing or not. The fork in the road had no clear direction.