The Vampire Shrink kk-1

by Lynda Hilburn

  She studied me, her face blank. I wondered if she played poker, because no one would be able to read her if she didn’t want to be read. ‘Remember I said that all the bodies had been drained of blood? In almost all the cases there wasn’t a drop of the victims’ blood to be found at the scene. Out of the ninety-seven cases, only two bodies were covered with blood. The first was the body of Emerald Addison and the second, the young man lying on your office floor.’

  She cocked her head, put both feet flat on the carpet and leaned forwards. ‘Any thoughts about another thing both those murders have in common?’

  I didn’t care for the direction the conversation was taking. ‘You’re saying that I’m the common denominator?’

  ‘Very good, Doctor. But that’s not the really interesting part. The blood found all over Emerald Addison wasn’t hers. I’m not sure if I could even call it human.’

  ‘Are you saying she was covered in animal blood?’

  She stood, replaced the chair in the corner, and began pacing again. ‘That’s what we initially thought. Whatever the bloodlike substance is, it doesn’t have the necessary ingredients to be classified as mammalian. I’d be willing to wager that the blood all over the victim in your office isn’t his. I think we’ll discover it’s a match to what we found in the Addison case.’

  I rose and paced in the square she hadn’t claimed, making ‘I don’t know’ gestures with my hands. ‘I don’t understand. Where would the blood come from if not from the victim or an animal?’

  ‘Well, Doctor, that’s where you come in. As a psychologist, give me your professional opinion about why a killer might leave his own blood, or some synthetic liquid that looks like blood, at the scene of his crimes?’

  I paused and thought for a moment. ‘It would be symbolic. Metaphorical. If it only happened in two of the ninety-seven cases, then something about those two cases was more personal for the killer. There was a reason for the killer to either spill his own blood or give that impression. Maybe something religious . . .’

  My voice froze in midsentence and I stared at Lieutenant Bullock. I tried to wrap my mind around the notion of Brother Luther as the murderer of ninety-seven people. The same Brother Luther I had initially written off as a harmless windbag. But if Brother Luther was the murderer, what about the bodies being drained of blood? That fitted more with a vampire than a religious fanatic.

  Maybe Brother Luther had a partner who was a vampire.

  No. His telephone rants all centred on his hatred of vampires. None of it made any sense.

  Frowning, Lieutenant Bullock stepped in front of me.

  ‘What? Why did you stop talking? Did you think of something?’

  ‘Yes.’ I sighed. ‘I think you and Special Agent Stevens and I need to get together right now for a serious talk. I want to tell you about some phone messages I’ve been receiving, and you and Alan have to come clean with each other.’

  She narrowed her eyes and studied me for a few seconds, then bounded towards the exit. ‘This way.’

  CHAPTER 22

  The next few hours were madness.

  While I was in the bathroom with Lieutenant Bullock, the police had sealed off my entire office building.

  I didn’t have to imagine the reactions of the other occupants to the news that their Monday-morning schedules had been completely disrupted, because they informed me personally in no uncertain terms.

  The normally sedate building manager had bolted up the stairway before the police blocked it off and he was livid. He blustered over to me, shook his head emphatically and wagged his index finger in the air. ‘This won’t do, Dr Knight. Everyone is very upset. This is the second time in a week the police have been called to your office. This is a reputable building and I have other tenants to consider. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to terminate your lease and ask you to vacate immediately. I haven’t been allowed inside your office yet, but from what I’ve been able to determine, the space is no longer in the same condition as when you rented it. I hope for your sake that your insurance is up to date and sufficient.’

  I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat. He was right on all counts. I just stared at his red face and watched the veins pulse on his forehead as he launched into the second act of his diatribe and felt very sorry for myself.

  Two weeks ago I was a successful, respected psychologist with a calm, predictable life. Things might have been boring, but they were sane. No vampires, religious zealots, quest-obsessed FBI agents, mausoleums, dead bodies or ruined offices. Why couldn’t I have taken up yoga or belly dancing? Something that didn’t come with an outrageous dry cleaning bill?

  ‘Are you the building manager?’ Lieutenant Bullock barked from a few feet away as she marched towards us.

  He pursed his lips.

  She handed him a business card. ‘If you have complaints about the way this investigation has been handled, please register them at this phone number. Dr Knight was simply being a law-abiding citizen reporting a crime. I think you might want to consult your attorney about the legality of evicting her.’

  She turned her attention to me, placed her hand on my upper arm and eased me away from the trembling manager. ‘Please come this way, Dr Knight – some of the clients you had scheduled for this morning are waiting downstairs. One of the officers will walk down with you.’

  I didn’t know which amazed me more: her lecture to the building manager, his barely repressed rage or the fact that she was being nice to me.

  After giving an explanation to my anxious clients, telling them I’d call to reschedule as soon as I had a new location and facilitating several mini-therapy sessions to ease their immediate concerns, I contacted the rest of the clients I’d scheduled for the afternoon to fill them in on the situation.

  In the middle of making those calls, I thought about the two new vampire clients on my schedule for that night. I had no way of contacting them. They’d only left messages on my voicemail informing me of their intention to come.

  Maybe I should drop by The Crypt and leave a message for Devereux. Who knew if the place was even open during the daytime?

  That would have to wait until later. First, I needed to go back upstairs to check on Midnight and Ronald.

  They’d been thoroughly and persistently questioned and now had the dazed appearance of abandoned puppies waiting to be rescued.

  Since their interrogation was complete for the moment, Lieutenant Bullock arranged for them to be taken home. I accompanied the couple downstairs and suggested we meet at my townhouse the next day.

  They both nodded, and Midnight gave me a quick hug.

  As they drove away in the backseat of the black-and-white, Lieutenant Bullock and Alan entered the lobby. He’d retrieved my burgundy handbag and matching briefcase from the hallway and had draped the long strap of the bag over his shoulder. He rested his hand on the top of the bag as if carrying a handbag was a normal, everyday thing. Observing the nonchalance with which he carried the fashion accessory made me chuckle for the first time in hours.

  An eternity later, I sat in my living room, stretched out in my incredibly comfortable oversize chair, my lower body attired in the finest orange police-issue trousers, the latest in paper footwear dangling from my toes. I thought about the events of the last few hours.

  My trip to the police station had been the second in as many days and I could say with complete certainty that I’d rather be sucked on by vampires than return there again. Well, one vampire, anyway.

  The chief hadn’t intervened this time. As soon as we reached her office, Lieutenant Bullock snagged a passing officer, pointed to my trousers and ordered, ‘Get Dr Knight some clean clothes and shoes, show her where to change, bag what she’s wearing, then bring her back here.’

  I caught Alan’s trademark smirk as the officer guided me down the hallway.

  When I returned to her office in my neon bottoms, Lieutenant Bullock and Alan were in the middle of a shouting match, precipi
tated, I gathered, by her disclosure about his notebook. They stood nose to nose, enjoying the verbal equivalent of a pissing contest.

  After they zipped up and called a truce, I recounted everything I could remember about Brother Luther’s telephone calls, then forwarded copies of the toxic harangues to Lieutenant Bullock’s voicemail. The preliminary lab report came back verifying that the blood in my office didn’t belong to Eric. As before, its origin couldn’t be identified.

  We argued for and against various theories and hypotheses, going nowhere fast, until it was obvious that we’d exhausted the productive possibilities for the day and we were all tired and hungry.

  Lieutenant Bullock waved us out, said she’d be in touch, and Alan walked me to my car.

  ‘Well, you’ve had a crappy couple of weeks, wouldn’t you say?’

  I shrugged, not sure if he was kidding or attempting to be supportive. ‘I guess the dead people have had a crappier time than me.’

  He grunted some variant of ‘huh’ or ‘hmmm’.

  I retrieved my keys from my purse and toyed with them, checking out the asphalt near my right foot.

  ‘So, can I come home with you?’

  ‘What?’ I was sure my face clearly indicated I hadn’t seen that coming. ‘Why do you want to come home with me?’

  ‘I think we have stuff to talk about.’ He grinned and stepped closer. ‘Things to clarify. Questions to be answered. You know, the usual. Maybe you’d like to have your back scrubbed in the shower. Or maybe your front.’

  I laughed and shook my head. ‘I can’t really blame you for running hot and cold, because you probably think that’s what I did. And I can’t say I don’t find you attractive, in an obsessive-compulsive sort of way, because I do. But I spent four years with a man who kept me very low on his priority list, and something about you reminds me of him. Been there, done that.’

  His sapphire eyes darkened and he wrapped his arms around me and planted his very soft, warm lips on mine.

  I kept my arms at my sides, but felt my lips opening for his tongue as my mouth welcomed the pressure of his. My body responded to the unexpected move by putting out the chemical welcome mat. I moaned softly.

  After a few seconds, he released me and stepped back, leaning against the car next to mine. ‘I’ve known lots of women in my life. I seem to be the kind of guy women make up stories about, attributing my loner tendencies to some kind of yearning that only they can heal. They think if they have sex with me I’ll suddenly be different, not as work-obsessed, not as crazy. But they all find out quickly that what you see is what you get. So I’ve managed to have lots of experience with women, but zero success with relationships. I just don’t know how to do them. I’m not even from Mars.’ He laughed ruefully. ‘There’s no name for the planet I’m from.’

  He studied me as if he was waiting for something, and I found myself doing the ‘therapist nod’ – the gentle, slow up-and-down head motion, not unlike one of those toy dogs you see in the back windows of cars, that most counsellors unconsciously perform while listening to someone’s story.

  ‘I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.’

  ‘You confuse me.’ He sighed. ‘Sometimes I think I’ve blown it and that you’re unavailable, so I back off. Then other times I get the idea that our attraction is mutual, like the way you just responded to my kiss, so I take a chance. Now I’m just asking, flat-out: do I have a chance with you?’

  I decided to be as honest as I could. ‘I don’t know. Right now, I feel emotionally connected to Devereux, though I’m not sure if that’s because I really care about him or if he’s zapping me with vampire juju and I’m a puppet on his string. The truth is that I met Devereux before I ran into you at the hospital. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Maybe it was because I thought the whole vampire thing was bullshit and Devereux and you and all my wannabe clients were deluded and confused. It wasn’t until all the insanity at The Crypt that I actually forced myself to accept what my eyes were telling me. I was already interested in him before I met you, but it’s also true that I’m very attracted to you. But I’ve had such poor experiences with men that all this attention has thrown me for a loop. I suck at everything about relationships. So I guess I can’t tell you anything helpful. I simply don’t know.’

  He pulled me into his arms again and whispered into my hair above my ear, ‘I’ll play my hunch, then.’ He kissed my cheek and said, ‘Cover your back, Dr Knight.’

  By the time I reversed my car out of the space and turned to wave goodbye, he was already gone.

  I tuned in to the local evening news on TV for the company, poured a glass of wine and sat at my desk. It was time to make a new plan.

  Even if the building manager didn’t evict me, it would be quite a while before the police would let me back inside my office and even longer for the space to be repaired. I’d have to check online for cleaning companies that specialised in bloodstains. Was there such a thing?

  In the meantime, I needed to find a place to meet with my clients. Having a home office wasn’t appealing at the best of times, and I certainly wasn’t going to give a blanket invitation to every vampire in Denver. Even if Devereux said the needing-to-be-invited-in thing was a myth, I wasn’t taking any chances. Just because Devereux could come and go as he pleased didn’t mean that other vampires could. He seemed to be the Grand Pooh-bah.

  Hearing my name mentioned on the news jarred me out of my thoughts. I picked up the remote control and turned up the volume. The station was airing a story about the body found in my office. They replayed a video clip from my last trip to the police station while the voice-over speculated about my ‘alleged vampire clientele’. At the end of the story, the reporter gave us his best stern expression and said, ‘This reporter wonders how Dr Knight always appears to be involved in these murders. Maybe the police should be checking her alibi.’ His lips spread in a lopsided horse-smile. ‘Wes Carter, live in Denver. Back to you in the studio, Bob.’

  ‘Thanks, Wes. It sounds like there’s more to Dr Knight than meets the eye. We’ll be following the story 24/7 until we get to the truth.’

  If you find out the truth about me, I hope you’ll tell me.

  I jumped up and made sure all the doors and windows were locked and the blinds and curtains tightly closed. The police had been great about keeping the media at bay, but what would happen if something more pressing occurred and they had to leave?

  Just then somebody pounded on the door between my garage and kitchen. ‘Shit! Did some reporter sneak in?’ I said, wishing my trusty intuition had put in its two cents a bit earlier. I hurried over. ‘Who is it?’ My midsection tingled.

  ‘Oh, get over yourself. Open the door.’

  The voice was familiar. I unlocked the door and cracked it just enough to see X-rated Luna standing in the garage, unaccompanied by reporters, cameras or microphones. The light in the garage was motion sensitive so I could view her in all her vampiric glory.

  ‘Luna?’ I swung the door open. ‘This is a surprise.’

  She was dressed in a low-cut black top, tight black jeans and pointy-toed black high-heeled boots. Vampire dominatrix. The dramatic makeup artistry on her pale skin was even more striking than the first time I saw her. Her silver eyes were embellished with Cleopatra-like wings. Very exotic.

  ‘Yeah, well, don’t count on it ever happening again. The sooner he tires of you, the better. But I told him I’d come to your house and that I wouldn’t just pop up in your living room, so here I am. He can’t give me any more grief about you. It was a pain in the ass avoiding all those humans cluttering up your street. I’ll never get why anyone would be interested in you.’

  Luna’s distaste for humans, and me in particular, was easy to read, even without my intuition.

  ‘And to what do I owe this honour?’

  ‘You’ve got that right. I have a message from the Master. He has serious business he must attend to tonight and he won’t be able to see you, but he said he’
ll visit your dreams and explain. He said I had to tell you that you’re in danger and not to let anyone remove your protective necklace.’

  ‘What does he mean, I’m in danger?’

  ‘Hey, I just deliver the messages, I don’t explain them. But I will tell you that something’s up – vampires are swarming into Denver in droves, and some of them make even us tough vamps nervous. Something dark and heavy is in the air, so to speak.’

  ‘Where’s Devereux?’ I asked.

  She glared at me. ‘Not that it’s any of your miserable human business, but he’s off on some kind of inter-dimensional rescue mission. He’s always saving somebody.’ She pursed her lips and brought her face closer to mine. ‘He simply can’t resist a hard-luck case.’ She stepped back. ‘I’m guessing it has to be something big for him to tear him away from his human plaything.’ Her lips relaxed into a wicked smile, displaying fully descended fangs. ‘But who knows? You might get snatched away by the Dark One again and I won’t have to hear about you any more. Wouldn’t that be great?’

  With that she laughed and vanished.

  I wasn’t sure what to make of her attitude towards me. Clearly she didn’t have much use for me, but I knew she’d follow Devereux’s orders. I was sure she wouldn’t hurt me. Probably.

  Leave it to Devereux to choose a pissed-off beauty queen for his personal assistant. No bug-eating, rotted-tooth Renfield for him.

  I relocked the door and returned to my desk.

  The next task on my list was to contact all my clients, cancel or reschedule any appointments set for the next couple of days and assure them I’d be functioning again as quickly as possible. I spoke with all but a handful and left general messages for the ones I hadn’t reached, asking them to contact me.

  Tired, I rubbed the back of my neck to ease the tight muscles. I shuffled over to my comfortable chair, found the remote control and clicked through the channels, searching for mindless entertainment.

  I landed on a well-known national discussion programme. The show’s host was an abrasive, politically dogmatic, argumentative bully who only had guests to give him someone to shout over. I usually didn’t have much time for television, and this show was particularly worth avoiding, but something about the topic caught my attention.