Vampires and Vanishings

by Lily Webb

  That didn’t sound like the words of a man who’d attacked his own wife, but it could just as easily have been an act. It was too early to tell, but if I couldn’t figure it out from his words, I always had the option of jumping into his thoughts. One way or another, I’d get to the truth.

  “Good, thank you. Let’s start with last night. Did the two of you fight over anything or have any other conflict?”

  Regan shook his head so hard it pained him. “No, definitely not. We rarely fight about anything, and last night was no different. She came home from work around six, we watched the news together, then we watched a movie before bed.”

  It all sounded perfectly normal to me, and as far as I could tell from his body language, he wasn’t lying.

  “Okay. Did anything unusual happen overnight?”

  Regan’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Any bad dreams for either of you or anything like that?”

  “No. Well, come to think of it, Dawn got up several times in the night to use the bathroom, but that’s normal for her and I assumed she was having trouble sleeping because of the vote today.”

  I glanced at Heath, who raised his eyebrows at me. “Was she nervous about it?” I asked.

  Regan hesitated like he wasn’t sure whether he should share whatever was on his tongue with us. “Yes, very,” he said at last.

  “Why?”

  “Well, because it’s such a big change to vote on, isn’t it? I mean, expanding the Council to include representatives of every paranormal species in Moon Grove would fundamentally change the way the town runs, for better and for worse. I don’t blame Dawn for being nervous. I’m not involved with the decision at all but I was nervous too.”

  “We all are, trust me,” I said, and Heath nodded his agreement. “Was there anything in particular that made her anxious?”

  “I think her nerves mostly came from her split opinion. She realized that voting yes was the right thing to do, but she worried about the long-term ramifications if she did — and what might happen if she didn’t.”

  I knew that feeling all too well, but it surprised me to hear Dawn shared it. She always seemed so sure of herself and when she voted or commented on anything, she did so with absolute conviction. Until now, I didn’t think it was possible for her to feel conflicted about anything for more than a few seconds. She seemed to work issues through her moral framework faster than the rest of us could.

  “Had she decided how to vote before you went to sleep?”

  Regan nodded. “Yes. It was actually the last thing she said to me. She rolled over to face me in the dark and mumbled, ‘I can’t do it, Regan. I just can’t,’ and at first I didn’t know what she was talking about, but it sank in quickly. I told her I understood and I’d support her no matter what happened.”

  So, as I’d suspected, Dawn would’ve voted no. Blaine definitely would’ve joined her, and I’d bet Grace would’ve too based on her horrifying experiences with the last king of the vampires — I couldn’t blame her for that. That made at least three council members in the “no” camp, and I doubted they were the only ones, so if someone really had attacked Dawn, why had they chosen her instead of the others?

  Maybe she was the easiest target. A short, frail older woman would’ve been easy to carry off somewhere, and she wouldn’t have been easily able to defend herself if they caught her by surprise on her way to work. I shuddered at the thought. Why in Lilith’s name wouldn’t she have wanted a security guard like the rest of us? I didn’t enjoy having Obax follow me around everywhere either, but I knew better than to refuse her protection — and after what happened to Dawn, I was grateful to have the gargoyle.

  “Did she say anything else to you overnight?” I asked.

  “No, not really. I asked her if she was okay on one of her trips back from the bathroom, and she said she was, but that was it.”

  “And you didn’t see or speak to her this morning at all?”

  “No. Like I said, she’d already left by the time I woke up.”

  “When does she normally get up during the week?”

  Regan laughed and rapped his knotted knuckles against the desk. “Oh, she’s up with the chickens, often before daybreak. I don’t understand how she does it, but she’s always said she gets her best thinking done when the rest of the world is still.”

  “Does she have any routines in the morning like making coffee or tea?”

  “Yes, she usually makes quite a big pot of coffee for the both of us.”

  “Was there any coffee waiting for you this morning when you got out of bed?”

  “Yes, and it was still hot in the thermos.”

  That meant Dawn hadn’t gone sleepwalking or something like that in the middle of the night in a bout of anxiousness.

  “When did you first try to call Dawn?”

  “We speak almost every day during her lunch break, and she normally calls me. She didn’t today, which I thought was odd, but I didn’t think much of it. I assumed she was too distracted and stressed over the vote and forgot, so I called her instead. She didn’t answer her cell or her office phone though, both just kept ringing and ringing.”

  The image was chilling. How could a prominent witch like her disappear without a trace? It made no sense.

  “Do you know if she regularly makes any stops anywhere on her way to work?” I asked.

  “Yes. She sometimes stops to buy a copy of the Messenger from the machine at the end of our street, and she’ll often buy a MagiJava from the Witch’s Brew shop on Crescent Street, but I’ve already been to the coffee shop and the owner, Violet, told me Dawn hadn’t been there today.”

  The more I talked to Regan, the less I suspected him. A guilty person wouldn’t go to their victim’s usual haunts looking for them after the fact.

  “Did Dawn walk to work every morning?”

  “Yes, or fly if the weather permitted.”

  If Dawn walked or flew to work every morning and she’d made it out of her house today, and it seemed she did, then someone must have seen her at some point, which meant Regan wasn’t the last person to see his wife. But if it wasn’t him, then who had?

  “Do you know if she had any planned stops today before work? Any appointments or meetings or anything like that?”

  Regan’s face scrunched up as he racked his brain. Finally, he shook his head. “No, not that she mentioned.”

  “Not that she mentioned? Did she frequently keep things from you?”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean anything like that. My wife isn’t a secretive woman, which is probably a good thing because she’s a terrible liar.”

  Still, that didn’t mean Dawn hadn’t gone to meet someone on her way to work. Maybe they got together and things went awry, or maybe the person they met planned to get her alone all along to attack her. Or maybe no one kidnapped Dawn at all. She could’ve fled, too scared to face the vote and its consequences — or her husband. Regan was difficult to think of as an attacker, but I couldn’t rule out any possibility, no matter how unlikely or outlandish they sounded.

  “How was your marriage overall?”

  Regan looked taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

  “Was it generally happy? Did you ever have any major conflicts?”

  Regan’s face shifted from shock to anger in a split second. “My wife and I have been married for thirty years, Councilwoman. It hasn’t always been smooth flying for us, but we’ve stayed on the broomstick nonetheless.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Regan’s scowl deepened. “No, we haven’t had any major conflicts. No more than the typical married couple.”

  I sensed him shutting down, so I changed direction before I lost him for good.

  “Is there anyone in Dawn’s life who might’ve wanted to hurt her?”

  Regan scoffed. “She’s a Councilwoman, there are probably many people in this town who’d like to punish her for something she’s done in her long tenure.”

  He
had a point. “Anyone in particular?”

  “No one comes to mind, sorry.”

  “Did she have a lot of friends? Anyone she spent a lot of time with?”

  “She didn’t have many friends, no, but she had a small circle. Believe it or not, Mr. Rathmore is one of her closest friends,” Regan said and my jaw dropped. I would never have guessed that Dawn and Blaine would be friends; they seemed like opposites in every way imaginable.

  “Really?”

  Regan laughed and nodded. “Yes, I know, it sounds crazy, but it’s true. Political issues aside, the two of them have a lot in common. The four of us — Mr. and Mrs. Rathmore, Dawn, and I — would often go to plays and things like that together.”

  I was speechless. This was the same prickly Blaine Rathmore who’d talked openly about staking vampires just days ago. I found it hard to believe he had a soft spot for anything, much less works of art.

  “When was the last time they got together?”

  “Oh, let’s see, maybe a week ago? I think it was Monday or Tuesday, but I can’t remember. Anyway, Blaine stopped by for drinks.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “This, that, and the other thing. The subject of the vote came up — how couldn’t it? — but it turned contentious.”

  My heart rate sped up. “Wait, back up, contentious how?”

  Regan sighed. “I’m sure it’s nothing and Dawn made her own decision, but Blaine was adamantly trying to convince her to vote against expanding the Council.”

  “For what reason?”

  “He said it would do irreparable damage to the balance of power in Moon Grove and that the Council risked losing all public support if they didn’t vote it down.”

  Well, Blaine wasn’t wrong on either count, but his interest in how Dawn would vote still bothered me. Was he doing it out of his own concern, or had someone else had pressured him?

  “That sounds civil. What turned the conversation contentious?”

  “Blaine told Dawn that if she voted in favor of the expansion, it would be the end of her career on the Council,” Regan said, and the skin on my arms erupted in goosebumps. Heath caught my eye, and he looked like he’d swallowed his own tongue.

  “It sounded like a bold-faced threat, so I warned him to be careful speaking like that to my wife in our house. He bristled and called us both old fools who deserved what would soon come our way if Dawn voted yes, then knocked back the last of his drink and left in a huff.”

  As chilling as the threat was, it sounded more like the Blaine Rathmore I knew. “Do you think he meant it?”

  “I doubt it. Blaine often lets his temper get the better of him, and when he’s drinking, well, he has even less control of his tongue.”

  As true as that might’ve been, it didn’t change the fact that just a couple days after Blaine’s tirade, Dawn decided to vote no and then disappeared on the day she should’ve cast that vote. It didn’t mean Blaine had a connection to her disappearance, but it still didn’t make him look good.

  “Do you think Blaine would hurt your wife?”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d say that, but someone must have. Maybe you should talk to him, but if you do, don’t tell him I told you to,” Regan said, but I was already one step ahead of him.

  “Thank you for your time and the information, Regan,” Heath said. “We’ll find her, no matter what. I promise. In the meantime, I’d like to station a gargoyle outside your house, and I don’t want you to go anywhere without their escort. Understood?”

  Regan nodded. “I don’t know that it’s necessary, but yes, I understand. Please, Heath, Zoe, bring her back to me. Please.”

  “I’ll do everything I can,” I said, unable to make the same promise that Heath had — because I couldn’t guarantee we’d be able to bring Dawn home. Based on my experiences solving cases in Moon Grove so far, it wasn’t a sure thing, but I didn’t dare say that to Regan.

  “Thank you,” he said, his chin trembling as he stood. Heath walked him to the door and ordered Vaxis to take him home and keep a gargoyle stationed at his house at all times. When they left, Heath softly closed the door and fell back against it.

  “I can’t believe this,” he sighed and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, ruffling it. It was the first time I’d ever seen him shaken, which worried me. I needed him as much as he needed me now. Whether we liked it, we were in this together. If we didn’t find Dawn and put all this to rest, both of our careers could be on the line. “Do you really think this involves Blaine?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I can’t rule it out either. I’ll have to talk to him.”

  “Regan told the truth. Blaine and Dawn really were great friends, so if he played any role in this, I… I don’t know what to think.”

  “Maybe it’s better if we think less and act more.”

  Heath glanced up at me and his face steeled as if he’d regained his strength. He nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Thank Lilith I have you to help me through this. You’re amazingly composed, Zoe. I’ve experienced nothing like this in my career, and I don’t know what I’d do without you anchoring me. Thank you.”

  My cheeks tingled. I didn’t know how to respond to that, but it meant the world to hear it from Heath. I’d always looked up to him, but now I respected him more than ever.

  “How are you going to handle Blaine?” he asked, changing the subject as if he’d sensed my discomfort.

  “The same way I would any other interview. I’ll ask questions and listen. Even if he’s not involved, he might know something or be able to point me at someone who does.”

  “Good thinking. I’m here if you need me, but I’ll stay out of your way and phone the police. I trust you know what you’re doing by now,” Heath said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

  I wished I had half his confidence in me.

  Chapter Six

  When the town hall had finally cleared out, I walked to Blaine’s office on the opposite wing of the building. Nazarr, his gargoyle guard who was just as brusque as the warlock he protected, fixed me with his piercing yellow eyes, his light blue skin making him look corpse-like in the dim hallway lighting. Nazarr didn’t seem happy to see me, but he wouldn’t dream of turning the Head Witch away, so he grunted and stared straight ahead.

  I raised my hand to knock and froze. I knew Blaine was inside — none of us dared leave the relative safety of the town hall now that Dawn was missing — but I didn’t know what to say to him, assuming he opened the door in the first place.

  Nazarr chuckled, a sound like a boulder tumbling down a mountain. “What’s wrong, Councilwoman? Has your familiar got your tongue?”

  Though I ignored the gargoyle, he had a point. If I outright accused Blaine, he’d probably lash out and shut me down by slamming the door in my face, but if I danced around the subject too much, he might get annoyed and send me away.

  Since hearing about Blaine’s explosion at the Bloodworths’ house, I’d developed a stronger sense of fear of the warlock. I’d always viewed him as grouchy and stubborn, and tried to avoid him as much as I could, but I never thought there might be something far darker to his personality — or that he could take part in the kidnapping of a fellow council member.

  But I couldn’t stand there all day like a chicken either, so I knocked on Blaine's office door as courteously as I could, not wanting to set him off before we really got started.

  “One minute,” Blaine called. I heard a drawer slam shut and his footsteps against the carpet before the door flung open. His face twisted at the sight of me.

  “I had a feeling we’d speak before the evening ended,” he said and left the door open for me as he retreated to his desk. Nazarr closed us in together, and the stench of pipe smoke invaded my nose. Even if I hadn’t smelled it, I could tell from the way Blaine refused to look me in the eye he’d been smoking — and the drawer I’d heard slamming probably held his pipe. Smoking in the town hall was against the rules, but given everything th
at’d happened today, I couldn’t blame him.

  Unlike the other council members’, Blaine’s office was spartan. Nothing hung on the walls, and other than his desk and rolling chair, there wasn’t any furniture, not even a chair for visitors to sit in — though I strongly doubted Blaine got many of those, anyway.

  He flopped down into his seat and kicked his feet up on the desk like he didn’t have a care in the world. “So, what can I help you with, Councilwoman?” Even if there’d been somewhere for me to sit, the message was clear: I wasn’t welcome to stay for long.

  “I just finished speaking to Mr. Bloodworth,” I said, testing the waters.

  Blaine shrugged. “I assumed you would. And?”

  “He told me you and Dawn are good friends.”

  He chuckled. “Surprising, isn’t it?”

  “It is, especially given all the vitriol between you during our meetings.”

  “It’s playful banter, nothing more,” he said, waving my suspicions away like a cloud of smoke from his pipe. “Dawn and I don’t agree on much of anything political, but we have a lot in common outside of that.”

  “Such as?”

  “Opera, mostly, but we enjoy talking about the arts. She has good taste… Her husband notwithstanding.”

  Blaine Rathmore never stopped surprising me. How could a man who had no decorations in his office be interested in art?

  “You aren’t fond of Regan?”

  “I don’t dislike him, per se, but I don’t understand what Dawn sees in him. He’s so dull and whiny. When we get together, he sits there like a wallflower and barely says anything, then complains to her we don’t include him enough in our conversations.” He shrugged. “Maybe that shouldn’t surprise me. Regan could never keep up with us intellectually.”

  “I see.” Was Blaine jealous of Regan? He sure sounded like he was, and his so-called “playful banter” with Dawn reminded me of a little boy pulling the hair of the girl he liked. Could he have kidnapped Dawn because he wanted her all to himself?