Bitten/Drained: The Lauren Westlake Chronicles Volume 1

by Dan O'Brien

  “Were there lights on when you and the deputy got here?”

  “Just me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Montgomery closed the door, shivering slightly as he did so. “I was first on scene. We got an anonymous call about some screaming. I grabbed the call. The deputy came shortly thereafter once I called in the murder to the station.”

  “Was this house dark when you came in? Were the doors open, the back sliding glass door?” she queried as she moved through the hallway. The noise from above was not as muffled now. There was indeed a party still going on.

  Montgomery looked puzzled. “I don’t think there were any lights except from the refrigerator. And the back door was open. Someone must have locked it after we came in.”

  Lauren had a sick feeling in her stomach.

  The murderer had lingered, closing the door when the sheriff arrived on the scene, perhaps skulking about the apartment while they were looking. She formed a horrible image of the creature, or whatever it was, watching through the windows as they moved about the home.

  “There was no one else in the house?”

  Montgomery shook his head.

  “Dead body and the porn.”

  “The porn?” She made a sickened face.

  Montgomery smiled, but it quickly shifted back to a neutral look. “We found the boy’s computer. There was some kind of pornography running on it. Still going while he was killed, I imagine.”

  Lauren did not want to think about such things. Touching the counter, she thought about how it must have gone down. Perpetrator came in through the back door. House was dark, so the victim would not have seen what was coming next and then attacked him while he was in the refrigerator.

  “I guess this means our space cadet in holding is off the hook,” mused Montgomery, arms crossed, feet rooted into the ground. “Though I can’t seem to make heads or tails out of all this killing. Why the woman on the lake? Why Leftwich? Why this deviant kid?”

  Lauren knew the answer. It was as it appeared, there was no pattern. The killings were random, but the method was the same. “I’m not sure there is a why, sheriff. I think whoever did this likes to kill or feels compelled to kill. The trophies are too similar for it to be more than one person, patches of skin taken and long, dragging slash marks on all the bodies.”

  “Compulsion? You think this is just a case of compulsion? I thought this was some long-standing murdering spree that you found a map for? You telling me you have no idea what is going on?” The sheriff had begun to lose his cool, his words sharp and acerbic.

  Lauren pressed her fists into the counter. “I know that these killings are similar to those I’ve researched. And I know that this has not seen an end yet. There will be more killings. We will find the person responsible, Sheriff Montgomery.”

  “That’s not much of an assurance since murders like these have been rotting in some files in some dusty old building for decades. Not inspiring much confidence.”

  Lauren could feel her body heat rising, irritation brimming. “How about we shelf this until after we crash the party in the upstairs apartment? You can tell me all about my failings as an agent after we close this case.”

  Montgomery quieted. There was still some senseless anger, but he felt the realities of attacking her for doing her job. The stress of so much death felt very much like the walls closing in. With a quick gesture, they exited the apartment. Closing the door behind them, they ducked through the webbing of yellow police tape.

  Wrought-iron stairs climbed to the top apartment. Montgomery threw chivalry to the wind and climbed first. His heavy boots crunched against the packed ice and snow that had not been removed despite the safety hazard.

  “Need some de-icer,” he mumbled.

  Lauren smiled at the sheriff’s discomfort. His stinging comments were still fresh on her skin. The building had four apartments. Dead guy and Ms. Yonkers’ owner were on the bottom and an empty apartment and a motley crew upstairs.

  The upper terrace was covered in packed snow as well. Christmas decorations lined the windows and walls, faded and torn from years of use.

  Montgomery approached the door, the noise inside growing ever louder with each step. The bass resonated throughout the entire complex, walls shaking and glass humming.

  “Must be quite the bash,” mused the sheriff under his breath as he knocked on the door with a quick rap. As the door opened, a nude woman stood looking at the sheriff. She did, however, wear a smile from ear to ear.

  Chapter IX

  Montgomery tried to hide his embarrassment, but he was doing a very poor job of it. Many of the people had not bothered covering up. Some were still too drunk or stoned to realize that a federal officer and a local cop were sitting in the living room. The pair sat on a comfortable couch that seemed to consume their bodies in the massive, superfluous pillows.

  “I’m Sheriff Montgomery,” he managed with a cough and then a look away.

  The young lady who had answered the door was not a natural blonde, a fact that made the sheriff uncomfortable as he could easily discern the truth himself. Her dyed hair was tousled over her shoulders and her skin was quite shiny, a testament to what was going on only moments before.

  “I’m Agent Westlake. Lauren Westlake. And you are the tenant here?”

  She nodded, her bright blue eyes not hiding a whole hell of a lot. “Yes, Agent Westlake. Mindy Summers,” she continued, starting to spell her name, but Lauren held up a hand with a small smile.

  “Thank you, Ms. Summers. If it isn’t too forward, may I ask your profession?”

  She smiled again, a perfect line of white teeth to go along with her other enhancements. “I am an adult entertainer,” she replied, her voice melodic albeit slightly high-pitched.

  Montgomery looked at her aghast.

  “You’re a hooker?”

  She shook her head, her smile still quite attentive. “I’m an actor, sheriff. I do adult films, the low grade and realistic looking stuff.”

  Lauren stifled a laugh.

  Even though she felt strongly about the exploitation of women, she was amused by the manner in which the woman conducted herself and the horrified facial expression that Montgomery seemed incapable of shaking. “You are aware that you need a permit to shoot these kinds of movies, even in the privacy of your home?”

  She nodded again. Her enhancements seemed to be disagreeing when she moved. “Yes, ma’am. Would you like to see the permit? My manager made sure that I took all the necessary precautions.”

  Lauren chuckled again. “That will be fine, Ms. Summers. Can I ask if you heard anything strange tonight?”

  Her smile was infectious. Despite the overall miserable nature of the night since leaving Dominic, Lauren could not help but mirror her smile. “I guess so. Bobby asked me if I would do an ATM and I said that was gross and not in my contract.” She pointed toward a long-haired, shaved-down Latino man.

  Montgomery looked confused.

  “ATM, what’s an ATM?”

  “Ass to mouth. It is really gross,” she replied, her happiness unshakeable.

  The sheriff sat back into the couch, allowing the absorbency to take him away. “Ms. Summers, could you please ask the gentlemen to get some clothes on or at least go into the other room. This may take a while.”

  She nodded. “Bobby, you and the other guys go in the bedroom and take the camera. You can start without me if you like,” she relayed with a careful and considered tone.

  The fake-and-bake and his comrades sauntered off. Perfectly sculpted rear ends and swinging members disappearing into the darkness of a back room and the farthest corners of Montgomery’s mind.

  The door closed and the conversation was restored.

  “We were wondering if you heard anything downstairs,” Montgomery asked hoarsely.

  Mindy moved to the edge of her seat, arms crossing over her knees as she did so. “I did. I heard some people down there. You think they were robbing the apartment?”

/>   Lauren felt like rolling her eyes, but she got the impression that Mindy Summers did not get into pornography because of her powerful mind. “Before that, Ms. Summers. That was us downstairs in the apartment. How about earlier tonight?”

  She touched her chin, eyes looking up at the ceiling. “There was some commotion right around the time of the first gangbang. I think one of the other guys thought they heard some screaming. Not sex screaming, but pain screaming.”

  “What time do you think that was?” Montgomery queried, looking away from her.

  She stood up and walked into her kitchen. Looking at the time there, she countered on her fingers, closing one eye to think. “A couple of hours ago. I remember because there was supposed to be another girl and she didn’t show up. So I had to go twice and wear a wig the first time.” She looked forlorn for the first time. “It was itchy.”

  Lauren tried to look sympathetic. “Was there anything else? Anything at all, even the slightest detail can sometimes offer some insight.”

  She thought again for a moment and then shrugged.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Montgomery stood first, the motion a kind of roll and spring from his plush home on the couch. Lauren stood slowly and walked to the counter separating the living room and kitchen. Retrieving a card from inside her jacket, she laid it on the counter. “I don’t think we need to take up any more of your time tonight, Ms. Summers. If you think of anything, please feel free to call me.”

  Mindy grabbed the card. Her slender arms made her ample enhancements seem even more unwieldy. “Thank you, Agent Lauren Westlake,” she replied, reading the card. “It says you are from Illinois. Isn’t that a long drive?”

  “That would be quite the drive. But I am here in town to help local law enforcement for the duration of the investigation.”

  “Investigation?” repeated Mindy.

  Lauren looked to Sheriff Montgomery.

  He shrugged. “We don’t release details for a while up here, Agent Westlake. Don’t like to scare people if we don’t have to.”

  “Has something happened?” Mindy asked carefully, her smile slipping.

  Agent Westlake moved closer to Montgomery, her shoulders squared. The hard set of her mouth was unforgiving. “What do you mean you don’t report details? You are putting people’s lives on the line.”

  He waved a hand. “Word travels fast in a small town. People will know when people know.”

  “That is irresponsible, sheriff. Grossly irresponsible.”

  “Did something gross happen?” she parroted, her eyes wide. “Was it anal? Did he ask for anal?”

  Lauren blushed, her cheeks scarlet at the blasé way with which she talked about relatively private and sexual topics. “No, Mindy. There have been a few murders, one on this very night in the apartment below. That’s why we are here.”

  Her smile disappeared.

  “Murders? Like dead people.”

  “Yes, Mindy. Dead People. A young man downstairs included,” spoke Montgomery glumly.

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Wayne? He was so nice….”

  Lauren moved back toward the topless adult star.

  “Did you know Wayne very well?”

  She nodded. “I would see him in the parking lot. We would watch movies sometimes when I had days off. He never hit on me or tried to grab me or anything. I wouldn’t have been mad if he did. What happened to him?”

  Montgomery looked at Lauren with a sad look.

  Westlake spoke, her voice steady. “He was killed earlier tonight. Someone came in the back door and killed him in his kitchen.”

  Mindy looked around her own kitchen in fear.

  “Came inside his apartment? How?”

  “Must have left his back door open,” replied Montgomery, looking at the door.

  Mindy suddenly seemed more exposed than she had when they had first entered the apartment. Reaching out for a thick white robe, she pulled it around herself and tied an elegant knot at her waist. Montgomery sighed in relief, nearly bending over as he did so.

  “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Mindy replied distantly.

  “Do you know anything about Lulu’s Exotic Friends?” Montgomery asked, remembering the card in Joyce’s wallet.

  She nodded, fright and sadness having claimed her emotions. “I worked there for a short time. It is dancing mostly. Some of the girls do a little more. I never did. I figured if they were going to pay me to fuck, then I might as well do porn. I get dental and health that way anyways,” she replied. It should have been funny, but if felt empty, remorseful.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” said Westlake.

  Lauren felt some sense of completion by being able to say that to someone. Too often there was no one around to identify bodies or to offer condolences. Even though it hurt, it felt necessary to bring things full circle.

  The bedroom door opened and an aesthetically perfect face emerged, half-hidden by the shadowed interior. “Are you coming, babe? Boys are getting restless.”

  Mindy looked at Lauren with wide eyes and then as though a switch had been flicked on, her smile returned; as bright as ever it was. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Agent Lauren Westlake?”

  Lauren shook her head. “We can show ourselves out, Ms. Summers. You have been very helpful.” And then as an afterthought, she tapped the card. “If you remember anything, give us a call.”

  Mindy was already walking across her living room, disrobing in three quick steps. Montgomery was out the door just as quickly. His eyes sneaking a private glance for future reference and then out into the cold Minnesota air once more. Agent Westlake paused, looking at the lush interior and shaking her head. Turning the lock on the handle, she pulled the door closed behind her.

  THE SHERIFF DROVE SILENTLY, a country station droning in the background. Dark trees flashed beside the road. The night air whistled through a crack in the windshield, hovering through the car like a genie released from a thousand-year slumber. “I am sorry for talking to you like that back there,” began Montgomery, his voice low.

  Lauren did not respond, instead continuing to stare out the window at the world passing by. “You were not wrong. I know that something is wrong here in your sleepy little town, but I am afraid I came unprepared. I do not have answers yet.”

  Montgomery continued to stare ahead. “Anyway, I should not have laid it all on you. This happened in my town, on my watch. I need to keep up with these things. We have just never seen this kind of madness. This level of brutality is unusual for us.”

  Westlake nodded.

  The trees were a dark green, nearly indistinguishable from one another and from the darkness in which they hid. She wondered if the creature was lurking out there now; a part of her wondered whether what was killing was human, perhaps it was something supernatural.

  “I can understand that. We will find this thing.”

  The road turned and twisted.

  Shadows danced as the headlights crawled across weather-beaten street signs and barn houses long abandoned. Ditches ran on either side of the road filled to the brim with snow and ice from months of cold weather. Wicked limbs of dead trees ducked in and out of the road; some fallen, some lying about to grow up once again.

  “Did you see that?” Lauren whispered looking out the side window. She had thought she saw something moving alongside the car, and then she realized that she had.

  A heavy thud announced the impact as a form collided with the front end: scraping and clawing as something rolled over the side. Turning the wheel wildly and slamming on the brakes, Montgomery turned the car sideways, nearly lifting it off the road. The car skidded to a stop. Lauren had grabbed the dash, her lithe frame restrained by the seat belt.

  “What in the fuck of all fucks was that?”

  Westlake was already out of the car, belt unlatched and door opened in one manic movement. Her gun was drawn and she banged a flashlight hard against her leg until the light
sputtered on. The light flickered across the icy blacktop: broken plastic scattered about the road and shards of glass littered deep into the snow.

  Flashing the light across the road, she moved her gun back and forth following the light. And what she saw made her nearly drop the flashlight. The gun shook in her hand. “What in the name of…?” whispered Lauren, taking a step back.

  It was seven feet tall with black and gray fur covering its chest and arms. Heavy muscle wrapped around the waist. Thick legs wore shredded gray pants like a reject from the Incredible Hulk show. It knelt to the ground, knees bowing back like a wolf as its head came into view: a wide face with black eyes and long furry ears close to the skull.

  Westlake took a cautionary step forward, the gun wavering in her hand. A low growl emanated from the creature as it lowered closer to the ground. Wide, strong hands with thick nails scraped against the snow. The nose was not pronounced, but flattened across the face. The growl intensified, though not guttural and animalistic; it was throaty and melodic.

  “Agent Westlake, get back in the car.”

  Montgomery’s voice was strangely calm.

  Had she dared a glance back she would have seen that the sheriff was leaning across the trunk of the car with a shotgun in his hands. The creature moved along the ground with the skill of a lion and the side-walking of a predator stalking prey.

  “We are blocking its escape, Montgomery. I think we spooked it.”

  “What the fuck is it?”

  The creature looked to the sheriff and then stood slowly, returning to its full height. Standing, it looked like a giant that had mated with a gray bear or perhaps some kind of wolf. It sniffed the air, looking directly at Lauren and took a step forward with a large, gripping foot.

  Montgomery rounded the car, shotgun shouldered and pointed at the creature. “Westlake, step back. Or take a shot. What the hell are you waiting for?”

  She was thinking.

  The claws looked familiar: strong arms and hands with thick, sharp nails. But there was something else about it. Why had it been right here, so close to the crime scene?