by Hadena James
Everyone turned to look at me. I opened my mouth and took out the bottom row of teeth. I set the dentures on the table and frowned at them.
“You have false teeth?” Lucas asked.
I put them back in.
“Only on the bottom. No enamel to begin with, some of my permanent teeth grew in with holes. Add to it the soda and starches, plus the violent lifestyle and I had dental implants at 15. When two of them were knocked out a year later, along with three other bottom teeth, I got the bottoms pulled and had dentures put in their place. I have six implants on the top and will have a seventh before long. I give it another two years before I replace all the top teeth with dentures.”
“How many people know you have bad teeth?” Alejandro asked.
“Not many. A couple of dentists, Nyleena, Malachi, my pseudo-serial killing stalker, my brother, and a handful of others that I have known over the years.”
“This is critically important. The handful of others and your pseudo-serial killing stalker, who are they?” Alejandro moved towards me like a looming storm.
“That’s the thing; I don’t know who the handful of others are. I rarely take them out. I’ve had them for ten years and I spent a fortune on them, I only really remove them to clean them. I’ve had college roommates who have seen them; I don’t know who they told. I don’t know if Nyleena or Malachi has ever gotten drunk and told anyone. I don’t know if my brother or mother has told. It happened after my sister and father were killed. I’m sure people know, it just isn’t common knowledge and I’m not sure who would care that much. Furthermore, I can’t fit twenty teeth in the bottom of my mouth. That seems like a strange number to send me. My mouth always had extra teeth to begin with. They were the first to be pulled and not replaced. I had one removed from each side of my jaw on the top and bottom. I have no wisdom teeth. But honestly, I don’t talk about it and I don’t know why anyone would know I have bad teeth.” I shrugged at him.
“Damn it, Cain, someone knows.”
“I’m aware. I don’t know how my pseudo-serial killing stalker found out, but he did. That means I’m sure others know, I just don’t know who or why. Hell, it could be from a newspaper.” I had a sudden memory.
“When I graduated high school at 16, I had just been fitted with them. They didn’t fit right, but I won an award and full scholarship to several colleges. For some reason, my local college paper did an article about me. They took my picture. I didn’t keep it because I’m not the scrapbook type, but my mom did. Now that I think about it, my mouth looks funny in the picture, like my bottom jaw and top jaw don’t align right. Anyone with any knowledge of what a person with false teeth looks like when they first get them would know that I have dentures.”
“There are over 100,000 people in your hometown and you’re telling me that any of them could know,” Alejandro said.
“That’s correct. Luckily, it is just over 100,000 and a portion of that is migratory because they are college students. I don’t know the enrollment figures for the University of Missouri, Columbia College or Stephens College, but I’m sure that some of them get figured into the population. Having said that, even fewer people read The Missourian that is put out by MU. It doesn’t have the circulation that the Columbia Tribune has.”
“That is supposed to help?” Alejandro glared at me.
“No, it is supposed to make something poignantly clear.” I glared back.
“What is that?” He asked, backing down a bit and giving me some space.
“It means that anyone who saw that picture might know, but there is no way to check the circulation records from ten years ago and that you, specifically, cannot hold me responsible for anyone knowing that I have bad teeth or that I even had bad teeth to begin with. If you had lived the life I have lived, you’d be missing a few as well.”
Alejandro seemed to think about that for a while. He moved away from me completely. Once back by the dresser, with fifteen feet or so between us, he calmed down.
“Now, back to the problem of the teeth. We don’t have any victims missing teeth and Xavier says it is unlikely these came from the newest victims. That means we’ve missed a set of victims. If I had to guess, I’d say they were beheaded, had their hearts removed and silver coins put over their eyes and filling their mouths. Unfortunately, that isn’t a form of torture; it’s how you kill a vampire. It doesn’t fit the pattern, at all.”’
“You got that from teeth?” Lucas asked.
“No, I got it from the kind of teeth. If there is something significant about teeth, I don’t know it. The only thing I know is that suspected vampires would occasionally have their canines removed so that their fangs couldn’t come out. It was rare though, very rare. I can’t imagine why it would be done. Most cultures just killed suspected vampires; a few removed the teeth thinking that would ‘cure’ the vampire because they wouldn’t be able to drink blood.”
“I am not a vampire-enthusiast, you’ll have to explain.” Alejandro was still glaring at me, but at least he was across the room doing it.
“You know what a vampire is right?” I asked him.
“Get on with it.” He rolled his eyes.
“Ok, in some instances, when a person was sick and vampirism was suspected, they would remove the canines so that the vampire couldn’t go out and feed at night. If the vampire died as a result, the human would heal. This was of course complete bullocks since vampires don’t exist and most of the people thought to be vampires were actually infected with TB. Removing the teeth didn’t help much, so it was a rare thing to do.”
“Thoughts on the matter?” Lucas asked me.
“It is weird to send me teeth. It is weird to send anyone teeth. It doesn’t fit with our pattern of torture and either it was done in an act of madness or to throw us a curve ball,” I concluded.
Chapter 33
