Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

by Jamie Lee Scott

  I’m sure I saw Charles blush, but he recovered quickly. “Right back at you, Nick.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Okay, before you two start making out, are you ready to go?” The sappiness was nauseating, but kind of cute too.

  I stomped on the gas a little harder than needed. Maneuvering into the Friday evening traffic on Main Street wasn’t as bad as when I was a kid. Growing up, South Main Street had been the main drag. I can’t begin to imagine the gallons of gas we wasted driving up and down the street. I drove my mom’s station wagon and everyone knew me. The car may have sucked, but the stereo rocked. Back then, it took at least twenty to thirty minutes to drive the two-mile stretch. Now that it was a “No Cruising” zone, we were headed out of town toward Highway 1 in no time.

  Charles broke the silence. “Hear anything on Mimi’s break in?”

  “Zeke didn’t pull any prints we could use. The book was wiped clean. Not even prints from the bookstore where it was purchased.”

  “You know where it was purchased?” I was excited. Maybe we could track it.

  “No, but I’m sure he had to buy it somewhere.”

  “He, huh?” Charles asked. “You know the perp is a guy?”

  Again Nick said, “No.” Snappier this time. I could tell he didn’t like not having the answers to the questions. “He is just easier to say, rather than he or she, or even they.”

  “I get it.” Charles flipped on the DVD player in the headrest and put the headphones on. We had been dismissed.

  “It’s related to the phone calls,” I said. “I have no doubt.”

  “True. But we don’t have anything more than that,” Nick said.

  Charles must have been listening music because he was humming and dancing in his seat. Both Nick and I looked at him.

  Charles opened his eyes. “What?”

  We both turned back to the front without comment. I saw Nick smile.

  “Do you think anything will come of this? Zeke sent a guy to print the kitchen. I’m pretty sure he’ll only find prints from Charles, Gemma, Jackie, and me. No one else really goes in the kitchen. Well, he may get a few paw prints if he dusts fairly low.”

  Nick smiled. “Lola has her own cabinet or something?”

  “Or something.”

  “Where are you staying tonight?”

  Startled, I mumbled, “Home.”

  “Are you going to be alone?” Now Nick was getting personal.

  “Maybe. Why?”

  “I know you’ll have a cop outside, but I think you should have someone in the house.”

  “Really?” I was being silly. I was worried about going home tonight.

  “Maybe Jackie can stay with you, or Charles.”

  “Just don’t worry about it. I’ll work something out.” I wanted to ask him if he had plans, but that would have been a mistake.

  Nothing else was said until we reached Santa Cruz and turned onto Laurel Street, then right onto Pacific Avenue. We drove around and finally found a parking space off of Front Street. The space was perfect because the meet up was at the clock tower at the intersection of Front and Pacific.

  As we got out of the car, I could see several cape-clad characters approaching the clock tower.

  I turned and put my hands up in front of Charles and Nick. “Stay here. I want to ask a few questions, as a tourist, before Charles goes in.” To my surprise, they stopped.

  “Fine. I want to get an overall picture and see if I can pick out our players without being noticed.” Nick looked around.

  I walked up to a woman in a black cat suit. Her fleshy rolls were partially concealed by the hip-length cape she wore. On her head she wore a black hair band, covering her forehead and keeping the edges of her ponytail in place.

  “Hi, may I ask you a question?” I put on my pleasant tourist voice.

  Unsure, she said, “Okay?” Her pale flesh creased as she smiled.

  “I realize this is Santa Cruz and all, but what’s with all the vampire looking folks?” I tried for a Midwestern accent, drawing out my vowels.

  “Oh, it’s a game.” Her tension eased.

  “What kind of game?”

  “We call it the Camarilla. It’s a role-playing game.”

  “A game of what?” Like I didn’t have any clue.

  “We’re vampires. The Camarilla is based on a group of Kindred, whose goal is to hide the existence of vampires from the Kine.” She looked sheepish. “Kine means humans, but is literally translated as cattle.” She giggled.

  Harsh, I thought. “So are the non-players the Kine? You mean I’m a cow?” I spoke in jest, not anger.

  She grinned. “I guess you would be considered a cow. No offense.”

  “None taken. So how does the game work?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “We meet at the clock tower and the Storyteller gives us the scenario where we left off the week before. The characters are able to earn merits and flaws as the game progresses. We have an ongoing feud with the Sabbat, who believe we are inferior to Kine. But as we are the Camarilla, we are far more moral and humane than the Sabbat. It’s all really very complicated unless you play.”

  “So you play every week?”

  “Yes. It’s great fun.”

  “Sounds a little eerie to me.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

  She kept looking over her shoulder as the other players gathered at the clock tower. “I’d better be going.”

  I watched as she walked away. Charles, with recorder and camera in hand was already mingling. I looked around for Nick but didn’t see him anywhere. So I walked to the corner near my car. Someone tapped my shoulder. I jumped.

  “It’s just me,” Nick said, grinning.

  “You know what kind of day I’ve had. That wasn’t funny,” I snapped.

  Nick’s smile faded. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

  I kicked him lightly in the shin. I wanted to kick much harder, but he was a cop after all.

  He straightened. “Hey.”

  “No more sneaking up on me, please?” I walked over to a park bench and sat.

  “I wasn’t sneaking, but fine.”

  By nine o’clock it was getting fairly dark. I could see images thanks to the streetlights and storefronts, but the black clothing made picking out details difficult. One person I could definitely pick out was Sebastian. He stood much taller than the other players, and he was also much broader. I couldn’t hear any of the chatter amongst the players, and I definitely couldn’t hear the Storyteller, but I could see that he seemed to be handing out sheets and indicating directions. It wasn’t long before the group disbanded and began to amble about the streets. Several disappeared down the side streets and into parking areas.

  As I followed a female into the bookstore, I listened to the tunes of the street corner musicians. A bubble maker dipped his wand and I walked through a shower of bubbles. The girl’s stride was swift as she entered the store. She spoke with others of her kind, apparently preparing a strategy.

  I slithered in close. “Excuse me. May I ask you a few questions?”

  The woman who turned around had a peachy complexion with black eyes and blood-red lips. Her hair flowed across her shoulders in a cascade of curls, ending just above her ample cleavage. She wore a black lace corset which heaved her boobs to her chin and left her necklace of amulets buried between her mounds of flesh. She smiled. But before she said a word, a man stepped in front of her.

  She pushed him aside. “Oh, Syd, she means no harm.”

  He took a half step to the side. “Yes, ma’am.”

  In a low, sugary voice, she said, “How may I help you?”

  “I wanted to ask you about the Camarilla.” My body language was as at ease as I could make it.

  “What would you like to know?” She lifted her hand to let the other players know she was out of character for the moment.

  “Who are you?”

  “Really, or in the game?”

  “Both,” I said.


  “In real life, I choose to plead the fifth. Too many narrow minded people in this world. In the game I’m Isabella. I’m a longtime player with a lot of power. I’m a status monger. I can make or break another character by word of mouth alone. What I say is held in high regard.”

  “And why is that?” Another aspect of the game for me to learn.

  “As of this week, I’m the most senior female player. This makes me the richest player, with the most merits. Richest female player anyway.” She pushed out her chest in defiance.

  “Wow. Did someone quit to make you number one?” Apparently this was an impressive position.

  “Sadly, no. Someone died.” Her chest deflated a little. Her expression turned sad.

  “I’m sorry. What happened?” Oh, oh, I was going to get somewhere with this one, I knew it.

  “It’s really not my business to discuss. I’m sure the elders would prefer to keep it between the Kindred.”

  Another brick wall. Where did I go from here? “You mean the Prince?”

  “Oh, you know Eugene?” Her mood brightened.

  “Only for a very short time. That’s why I’m here. He mentioned the game to me, and I wanted to come down and see how it worked. He said it was okay to talk to the players if I didn’t interrupt the game.” Lie, lie, lie.

  “As the Prince, he rules the city, and if he says we can talk to the Kine, then we can.” She stopped talking as another character approached.

  Her withering look could have stopped a cougar in its tracks. I know it made me step back.

  She giggled. “I’m good, huh? I’m not nearly as impressive in real life. But as Isabella, I’ve earned my status. I love it.” She waved her hand at me. “Yeah, I know, you probably think I’m whacked, but this is great fun.”

  “I get it. It’s the allure of being someone else.” To quote another wannabe vampire.

  “Yes, that’s exactly it.” Now we were pals.

  “So how well did you know Esme?”

  She blanched. “You mean Eugene?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I meant Eugene. He and Esme are friends and that’s how I met him. They both start with E.” Hand to forehead. I nearly blew it. “You know Esme too?”

  “I know Esme.” She was less friendly now.

  “Lovely girl.”

  Stiffening, she said, “Of course. She and I were the first girls to join the game. We weren’t exactly friends outside the game, but as a part of it, we were allies.”

  “Know anyone who didn’t like Esme?”

  “Look, I don’t know anything. If you want information, talk to her boyfriend.” She put her hand back down and resumed her character. She turned and handed out a lavender colored business card to another player, then vanished.

  Okay, she didn’t really vanish, she walked around the corner to another stack of books. Before her bodyguard followed after her, I asked, “Where can I find the Prince?”

  The dark man pointed to a man nearly as tall as Sebastian, standing a little apart from the group, wearing rustic garb. The Prince wore a beard, and his brows were as thick as the beard. He wore black boots, torn pants and a leather duster. His hair was nearly as long as Isabella’s.

  Before I could approach him, Charles had moved in to start his interview. The Prince turned away. Darn, I really wanted to see if he was the same guy who was in Henry’s hotel room. Or more precisely, leaving Henry’s hotel room.

  As I walked back to where Nick stood, I saw a pale, ornately dressed man walk toward Charles and the Prince. The man wore a hat with a bright green feather and had an imposing manner. But I was distracted when Nick walked up.

  “Find out anything good?” Nick asked. He was eating some sort of chocolate candy.

  “Not really. But Charles is really getting into this. He’s interviewing the Prince right now.” I pointed to the trio.

  “Which one is the Prince?” Nick licked his fingers.

  “The rugged looking man with the long beard.”

  “He doesn’t look like royalty to me.” He wrapped up the rest of his candy and licked his finger a little more.

  I reached into my handbag and pulled out a wet-nap. “Here.”

  Nick snatched it and tore the package open. “Gee, thanks Mom.”

  “Let’s go back to the car and wait for Charles to finish.” I walked toward the car, but Nick stayed put.

  “Come on,” I said.

  “I want to know more about this Prince guy. I’m going to keep him in sight. If he drove here, I can get his plate number and run it. If no one wants to give him up, I’ll figure out who he is on my own.” He stood his ground.

  “His first name is Eugene,” I said as I walked away.

  Nick jogged up to me and cut me off. “Eugene who?”

  I stopped abruptly to keep from colliding with him. “I only got his first name, sorry.”

  “We’ll just have to wait until the game is over, then follow him.” Nick didn’t move.

  Nick and I watched the players and people in general for the next hour and a half. Finally, Charles returned with a huge smile on his face.

  “This is incredible. I’m coming back next week to play. These are some really intelligent people. A lot of them have really stressful jobs, like working for a detective agency with a bitchy boss.” Charles looked at me. “Just kidding. I mean real stress. One guy is a neurosurgeon.”

  “That’s great, Charles. Did you find out anything we could use?” Nick didn’t share Charles’s fascination with the game.

  “Oh baby, did I.” Charles flipped through his notes.

  “I thought you brought a recorder.” I wanted to hear what was said.

  “Yeah, but no one wanted to be on tape. So I took notes. Good thing my mom made me take shorthand. No one even uses it anymore, but she said it would come in handy in college, and she was right. Who knew it would come in handy in real life too?”

  “Right, so what do you have?” Now I was getting impatient. Nick could rub off on a girl.

  “The guys I was just talking to, the Prince and the Emperor, were fascinating as well.”

  “Walk and talk. We need to keep an eye on this Prince.” Nick started toward the clock tower.

  “The Prince is the guy in the leather duster. The Emperor is the guy in the feathered hat. It’s crazy. He’s the Emperor of the Imperial Government of Norton. And he’s a vampire alright. Has to be. He came to California during the Gold Rush. And get this. He lost all of his money, so he printed his own. Look.” Charles held out a hundred-dollar bill with the Emperor’s face on it.

  I stared. “That’s Henry.”

  Nick grabbed the bill from Charles. “It is. So this is Henry’s character.”

  “What’s his role in the game?” I asked.

  Charles snatched his bill back. “It’s mine.” He pocketed it, saying, “He’s a Malkavian, from a harmless clan of Kindred. I think he’s really a drifter. The Prince hates him.”

  “And who exactly is the Prince?”

  “You want to know who he is?” Charles said.

  “Yeah, we’ll get his plate number and run it.” Nick spoke over his shoulder.

  “His name is Eugene Winkle. I don’t know his address, but I guess it would be easy enough to find on the Internet.” I could tell Charles was pleased to offer this tidbit.

  I smiled at him, and he winked. Nick stopped. He turned.

  “You, my dear, are good.” Nick reached out his arms. “I could kiss you.”

  Charles stepped forward, “Oh, please do.”

  I stepped between them. This was enough. If anyone was going to be kissing Nick, it was me. “Okay boys, let’s follow him anyway. We might get something.”

  And boy did we get something.

  19

  As we got closer to Eugene, we settled down and stopped talking. In serious stalking mode, we split up and approached from different angles. Since we too were in black, we blended in with the background. Eugene was parked in the same lot as I was, which
would make for an easy getaway. Little did we know we’d be there longer than we’d planned.

  Eugene approached a car, but didn’t get in. He stood alongside the vehicle, slowly pulling off his bushy brows. He put the hairy caterpillars on the hood of a Volvo SUV and began tugging at his beard. Once he had the beard off, I recognized him. It was Brad. Eugene was Brad freaking Pitt from the hotel. I knew that in real life Eugene and Henry were friends, so the Prince hating the Emperor was only part of the game. As we soon found out, Eugene and Henry definitely didn’t hate each other.

  “Hey, handsome,” Eugene called as Henry approached. “Can you believe they sent a reporter?”

  Henry pulled off his hat. “It’s great. I hope he writes the story in a positive way.”

  Charles whispered, “I will.” I shushed him.

  “I think this will be good for the game. I’m excited.” Eugene reached out and hugged Henry.

  Henry pulled back and looked around. “Let’s get inside.”

  Eugene unlocked the Volvo’s door. He pulled off his duster and tossed it in that back seat. Then he stripped out of his boots too, and climbed in. Henry looked around. Fully dressed, he climbed in with Eugene.

  “Oh. My. God,” Charles said in three breaths. “My gaydar must be way off. I never guessed.”

  Of course we were speculating, but normally two grown men didn’t get in the back seat of a vehicle together. Especially not when there was plenty of room in the front seat. I could see movement from where I stood, but I wasn’t sure what it was. If I let my imagination take over, I’d guess someone was getting a little something in the back seat of that Volvo.

  So that’s why Henry didn’t want me in the hotel room that night. He’d had his lover over. Too bad I wasn’t a few minutes earlier, I could have witnessed the goodbye kiss.

  Charles said, “I’m going in.”

  I grabbed his arm. “No.”

  “We have to have proof.” He shrugged away from me.

  If I fought him, they’d hear us. As Charles moved in closer, Nick sidled up beside me.

  “Did you see that?” Nick stared at the Volvo.