by Kathi Daley
“I didn’t really think there’d be anyone in there,” Salinger said.
“I know, but I’m glad we looked. At least now I won’t wonder. What now?” I asked.
“Let’s take another look around the cemetery. Maybe check the van again.”
“Do you think the guy could be in one of the crypts? Maybe he’s looking for a new coffin, or one that looks like it’s been opened recently. If there’s a new vampire in town a monster hunter would be looking for an empty coffin.”
Salinger shrugged. “He could be in one of the crypts. Some are just small structures built up around a single coffin, but others are quite large. We can walk around them. If any of them were entered recently we should find evidence of it: footprints, flattened foliage.”
“Let me e-mail him again before we start out. Maybe he didn’t get the first one for some reason.”
I sent yet another e-mail, letting him know we were at the cemetery and looking for him.
A quick check of the grounds and the van didn’t turn up the monster hunter. Salinger grabbed three flashlights and a tool that could be used for prying from his car, and then we headed to the part of the cemetery where most of the crypts were. The first few we checked were locked up tight, but there was one in the second row that looked suspect.
“This one has footsteps all around it. Lots of footsteps,” Zak said. “And the lock looks to have been broken as well.”
Salinger used his weight to add leverage as he worked the heavy door open. The interior of the crypt was dark, the air stale. It was a family chamber, with rows of coffins on the side walls. There was a single coffin at the back as well.
“I don’t see anything,” I said as I shone my flashlight around.
“No. But someone’s been in here,” Zak replied. “Recently.”
Salinger continued to shine his flashlight along the walls. He paused at each coffin to inspect it. I sure hoped he wasn’t planning to open them.
“It’s obvious the monster hunter isn’t in here,” I said as a chill ran down my spine. The shivers that had been absent inside the house had shown up here and brought friends. “If he was here we’d see him. Maybe we should just go.”
“We’d only see him if he were out in the open,” Zak corrected me.
“Maybe the local vampire didn’t want anyone digging around in his business and Orson Spalding became victim number two,” Salinger suggested.
I made a face. “You think he’s in one of these coffins?”
Salinger opened the lid on the one at the back of the room. “I don’t think so; I know so.”
I don’t know why I didn’t follow my instinct to stay back. Almost against my will, I found myself inching forward. When I got close enough to see inside the coffin my stomach lurched. “Oh my God,” I groaned.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Salinger said. “This town is crazy with people who are living out vampire fantasies, but I promise you, while this man obviously has been bitten, we’re going to find the cause of death is most likely something injected into his bloodstream, like the venom that killed Irvine.”
I didn’t disagree, but the idea that a monster hunter had been killed by a monster seemed almost poetic to me. Still, while the injury to his neck indicated that someone had taken a big bite out of him, Salinger was probably right.
“If this man was in town to do a story on the vampire who killed Irvine, maybe he found something someone wanted to keep quiet,” Zak said.
“It should be easy enough to find out where he was staying and get a look at his notes,” Salinger said. “In the meantime, let’s have a look at the inside of the van while we wait for the coroner to arrive for the body.”
Chapter 12
The van was locked, but Salinger managed to pick the lock, allowing us to get a peek inside. The medical examiner had shown up and was with the body. Once he completed his initial inspection, he’d transport it to his office in Bryton Lake. He seemed to have things under control in the crypt, so our plan was first to search the van for any clues that might have been left behind, and then to head to whichever lodging the monster hunter had been staying.
“I wonder if he had a camera with him when he was attacked,” Zak mused.
“I didn’t see one,” Salinger said.
“I didn’t either, but we don’t know where the attack actually occurred. There was plenty of blood in the coffin, but it also looked as if he put up a fight. I noticed scratches on his face and arms and his right hand was bloody, so I’m thinking he was attacked elsewhere, then taken to the coffin,” Zak answered.
“Speaking of the coffin, what happened to the person who was originally buried there? I didn’t see a skeleton laying around anywhere,” I added.
“Good question.” Salinger picked up a camera on top of a bin attached to the wall of the van. He turned it on and began scanning through the digital photos in the memory. “It looks like he’s been spending quite a bit of time here. There are photos of men and women who look an awful lot like actual vampires walking around among the headstones after dark.”
“So, if he’d already been out here filming the freak show that’s descended on Ashton Falls, why was he out here today?” I asked. “We thought he might have wanted to get the lay of the land, but it appears he already had that covered.”
Salinger looked at me. “When did you say this guy first showed up at the Zoo looking for you?”
I tried to remember. “I think it was Tuesday.”
“And you sent off an e-mail to him right away?”
I nodded. “Within the hour of Jeremy telling me of his visit.”
“Today’s Friday. If he wanted to speak to you about the first vampire attack, I wonder why he hadn’t responded to your e-mail before today.”
“I have no idea. To be honest, with everything that’s been going on, I forgot about it.”
“Are we sure it was even Spalding who sent the e-mail today?” Zak asked.
Salinger rested his hand on the butt of his gun. “Now that you ask, I kind of doubt it. When exactly was the e-mail sent?”
I took out my phone and pulled up the e-mail. “Eleven twenty-one this morning.”
“It’s two thirty now. I’m going to speak to the ME now that he’s had a chance to look at the body, but I’d be willing to bet we’ll find that the time of death was a good twelve hours ago.”
“So you think he was probably dead before the e-mail was sent,” I said.
“If the victim didn’t send it the killer must have.” Zak’s lips tightened. “Did you find the guy’s phone?”
Salinger shook his head. “Not yet. But if the killer sent the e-mail and Spalding died at some point during the overnight hours, that explains a lot of things, such as why a man looking to film a vampire would be in a graveyard during the day, when he wasn’t likely to run into any.”
There was something about this scenario that wasn’t lining up for me. Actually, there was a lot that wasn’t, but I decided to tackle one problem at a time. “So, one of the vampires the monster hunter was here to film must have killed him when he was on location last night, then e-mailed me this morning. Why?” I furrowed my brow. “If Spalding was already dead why would the killer e-mail me at all? It’s not like I’m part of the group. I doubt the killer even knows me.”
“We’ve suspected from the beginning that there’s someone out there playing with you,” Zak reminded me. “He may or may not be linked to the group in town, but he definitely seems to want to get your attention.”
I supposed Zak had a point. Maybe my being here to find this body as well was all part of a sick but very elaborate game.
“Is there anything in those photos that might help us figure this out?” I asked after a moment.
“I don’t see a smoking gun, but I’ll send all this equipment to the lab. If Spalding had a camera with him last night, which he probably did, that would be the one to find. Let’s have a look around while we wait for the rest of the crime scene
guys to show up. I’ll have a chat with the ME so we can verify the time of death.”
Zak and I went to Salinger’s car to wait for him there. The sky was dark and the storm that everyone had been buzzing about seemed to be heading in our direction, but right now the breeze was soft and the temperature as close to perfect as an autumn afternoon could be. The thought of getting into the car and heading out for a leisurely drive around the lake had a lot of appeal. Not that a drive was in our future, but a person could fantasize.
“This is going to sound really odd,” Zak said, “but for some reason, the memory of that picnic the whole family took last year during the fall color just popped into my head.”
I smiled and wound my fingers through his. “I just thought something similar.” I stopped and looked into the distance. “The day of the picnic started off sunny but ended up cloudy. I can still remember the brilliant yellow of the aspens along the river where we picnicked contrasting with the dark gray of the sky. I think the reason we’re both thinking of that day is because of the aspens growing along the river on the mountain side of the road. Combined with the dark gray sky, the look is almost the same.”
Zak looked toward the crypt, where Salinger was still talking with the ME. “Why don’t we take a walk over to the river while Salinger’s busy? He could be a while, and a walk beats sitting in the car.”
“Okay. I’ll text him to tell him what we’re doing just in case he doesn’t see us when he comes back.”
The shallow river meandering around large rocks that were covered during the spring runoff was both serene and breathtakingly beautiful. The bright yellow leaves from the aspens were pooled in the nooks and crannies between the rocks. Zak took my hand and led me along the narrow dirt path that bordered the slowly moving water. The wind had picked up just a bit as the storm neared, though the moment was just about perfect.
“We should take the family for a picnic before the snow falls,” I said as I rested my head on Zak’s shoulder. “I know it’s supposed to storm this weekend, but maybe the weekend following Halloween?”
“The leaves are already beginning to fall. If we get a significant storm this weekend it’ll knock off the remaining ones. I’m afraid we may have missed our chance this year.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I guess you’re right. Things have been so hectic this autumn.”
“But we’ve had a lot of BBQs on the deck overlooking an aspen-lined lake. It isn’t that we missed the fall color; it’s just that we missed the fall drive and picnic. We’ll make more of a point to fit it in next year.”
“I feel like we need to make lists: things to do each fall, things to do each Christmas, things to do each summer. Do you know, we never once took the boat out for a full-moon cruise this past summer?”
“That’s because Catherine is usually in bed before the moon rises, but I get your point. And making lists isn’t a bad idea. I think we should turn back. Salinger should be wrapping things up by now.”
“Yeah, okay.” I paused to make the turn just as I noticed the rocks along the opposite shore. There was something on them that looked a lot like blood. “Look there.” I pointed. “I think we might just have found the murder scene.”
“I’ll call Salinger,” Zak said.
******
Not only had we found the murder scene, but a thorough search of the area netted us the camera Orson Spalding was most likely using to shoot footage of the nightly vampire walk when he was attacked. It was dark, and Spalding was shooting it from a distance. He was speaking softly, as if trying not to be noticed by those who’d come out for the role-playing event. It was spooky in a fun, Halloween sort of way. I’m not saying I’m going to trade in my mom jeans for black leather, red silk, and fangs, but if the two people who were dead were taken off the table, I could see how coming out and walking around in a dark cemetery in the middle of the night could provide a spark of terror that got long-atrophied brain cells firing.
Maybe the vampire role-playing thing was a bit over the top, but as I watched the video Spalding had shot, I could see how busy executives bored with their lives and needing a thrill might be in to it. That is, until we came to the last scene Spalding would ever shoot.
“What are you doing here?” Spalding’s voice could be heard in the background, but the camera remained on the men and women in the cemetery.
“This is my gig. I warned you to pack up and leave,” an unidentified voice said.
“You’re veering into my territory now, and I’m not going to let some two-bit wannabe tell me what I can and can’t do.”
There was a snarl I assumed came from the second man. “In this last moment of your life I want you to remember it was your choice to ignore my warnings. Such a shame really, but I suppose there’s only room for one of us.”
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
After that the camera must have fallen to the ground. All that could be seen through the lens was the dark sky, but the sounds of a struggle could be heard in the background. Eventually, the struggle ceased and there was silence. Someone picked up the camera and turned it off.
“Okay, that was disturbing,” I said to Zak.
“Right there with you. It sounds like the man who killed Spalding was a rival of some sort.”
“Rival what?” I asked. “Rival monster hunter, rival filmmaker, rival vampire, assuming Spalding participated in the role-playing and didn’t just film it.”
“I wish I knew.” Zak scratched his chin. “Did the voice of the other man sound kind of familiar to you?”
I frowned. “Now that you mention it, his voice did seem similar, although for the life of me, I can’t place it. Do you think the killer is someone local? Maybe someone we don’t know well but run in to and chat with, like one of the checkers at the grocery store or someone who works in a local restaurant?”
“Maybe.” Zak glanced at the camera again. “I can’t believe Orson Spalding’s murder was recorded but there isn’t a single video image of the killer.”
“There might be fingerprints on the camera. We need to get this to Salinger right away.”
I glanced around the area one last time before we headed back to Salinger’s car. It seemed if Spalding was murdered while filming the late-night vampire fest someone would have overheard the scuffle. Sure, Spalding was hiding across the road from the cemetery, I assumed, so he could make the recording without being seen, but the sound of a man being brutally murdered would have carried the fifty yards or so between where Spalding was hiding and the cemetery. Why hadn’t anyone intervened?
“Don’t you think it’s odd that no one called in Spalding’s murder?” I asked Zak. “From that footage, it appears as if he was killed less than a football field away from a cemetery where at least a dozen men and women were hanging around playing dress-up.”
“It does seem as if the group in the cemetery would have overheard what was going on. Maybe it isn’t uncommon for people to be murdered during these things.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I didn’t pick up a ritual sacrifice vibe from what was going on in the video. Spalding’s death was personal. Hopefully, Salinger will be able to pull some prints, or maybe the guys at the lab can use voice recognition software to find out who the other man on the tape is.”
“For voice recognition to work you have to have something to compare it to. But you’re right; that voice sounded familiar. Maybe if the killer is a local Salinger will recognize his voice.”
Salinger was walking toward the car as we came closer. “What do you have there?” he asked.
“We found the murder scene and the video camera Spalding was using to film the vampire walk when he was attacked.”
Salinger raised a brow. “His murder was caught on film? Who did it?”
“We don’t know,” I admitted. “The camera is trained on the sky the whole time, but the audio was on. Maybe the guys at the lab can find something concrete that points to the killer. It sounds like the guy who killed Sp
alding did so because he considered the vampire festivities in Ashton Falls to be his gig and Spalding was worming in on his territory.”
Salinger stood holding the camera with the oddest expression on his face. “When you say Spalding was killed for worming into the killer’s territory it almost makes it seem as if the first victim, Edgar Irvine, was killed to create the hype that got the vampires to come to Ashton Falls in the first place.”
“It does seem that way,” Zak agreed. “Especially when it looks as though the tabloid might have been tipped off before the murder even happened.”
“If the motive for Irvine’s murder was to bring a bunch of vampire wannabees to Ashton Falls, why Irvine and why involve me?” I asked. “The killer had to lure Irvine here from Hollywood, and that seems intentional and specific.”
“Maybe the killer had a reason to involve both of you and a reason to want a bunch of vampire types to gather,” Salinger said.
“Which would mean there was a link between me and Irvine,” I said. “I swear I’d never seen him before and I promise I don’t have a creature-of-the-night fetish, so how is it possible I’m linked to either Irvine or the killer?”
“You don’t have to be linked to each other; you only both have to be linked to the killer,” Zak said. “We both thought we recognized the voice of the man who killed Spalding, which means he might be local, which would explain how he knows you and why he chose Ashton Falls as the location of his vampire fest. What we need to figure out is who it is and how he knew Irvine. If we go back to the whole why-that-snake thought, I’d say Irvine’s assistant, Becka, is probably the link between the killer and Irvine.”
“So we need to dig into Becka’s life and see who pops,” I said. I looked at Salinger. “Are you ready to go, or should I call someone to come pick us up?”
“I can drop you off at home. I want to get this camera to the lab right away. Maybe the killer left a print behind. After that I’m going to Spalding’s hotel room. Maybe there are notes or photos there that will help us figure this out.”
