Crimes by Moonlight

by Charlaine Harris

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a shock, seeing ’em cut up like that.”

  “I’ve been in a morgue before.”

  “Don’t get hung up on the stake. There’s more important things here. Like who killed him, for instance.”

  “I know who killed him.”

  “Oh?”

  “It was her father. He couldn’t stand him messing around with his little girl.”

  “You sure?”

  “Pretty sure. If I was her father, I might have killed him myself.”

  “He was that bad?”

  “Actually, I kind ofliked him.”

  “You really think it’s the father?”

  “Yeah.”

  IT was Daddy all right. MacAullif picked him up, shook him down, he caved right in. That’s how it is with some tough guys. They put up a good front until their luck turns. Daddy spilled his guts. Admitted it all.

  “Except for the stake,” MacAullif said. “He won’t admit to the stake.”

  “What?”

  “Claims he never saw the stake. Didn’t mention it till we brought it up. Then he denied it.”

  “Really?”

  MacAullif waved it away. “Not that it matters. He admits to the knife. Between his confession and the testimony of the medical examiner, we got him dead to rights.”

  I nodded as if I agreed. But that wooden stake would haunt me long after the event. As would the image of the goth girl, her boyfriend dead, her daddy convicted of the crime. A hell of a legacy to carry with her. I had visions of her getting a law degree, finding a loophole, getting Daddy out. A pipe dream, of course. But sometimes pipe dreams keep you going.

  Yeah, MacAullif was satisfied. But I couldn’t help thinking of that wooden stake.

  The way I saw it, there were only two ways that could have happened.

  I only met the vampire once, but as I told MacAullif, I liked him. I don’t know if he was crazy or playacting or what, but within his own separate universe, he seemed to have his own set of rules. There was a certain gallant nobility about him. I could imagine him, realizing he was dying, wanting to go out with a bang. Or not wanting to disappoint the goth. Or wanting to keep up the mystique, for to him image was everything.

  I could imagine him pulling the wooden stake out of his pocket and sticking it in the knife wound in his heart.

  Either that, or Daddy was lying. Not unusual in a perpetrator, though somewhat unlikely in one confessing all. Still, I could imagine the guy being embarrassed about it, withholding it because he figured it didn’t matter.

  And because he couldn’t face it.

  Because, according to the medical report, Daddy killed the vampire right after I left him that night. Which meant that, despite Debbie’s warning, and in spite of the fact I never spotted him, Daddy was there when I spoke to the vampire. Daddy saw the vampire show me the stake and put it back in his pocket. So Daddy knew it was there.

  I could envision Daddy stabbing the kid again and again and again with the butcher knife, and he still won’t die. Until, in spite of himself, Daddy takes the wooden stake out of the vampire’s pocket, and plunges it into his heart. He drags the body into the bushes, throws dirt over him. And refuses to admit, even to himself, that the stake was what killed him.

  It had to be one or the other.

  Either way, it freaks me out.

  Taking the Long View

  By TONI L. P. KELNER

  “Do we have to go?” Mark asked, trying to make it a question instead of a whine.

  “Yes.” Stella finished brushing her hair. “Ramon throws lovely parties.”

  “With dribble glasses and whoopee cushions on every chair?” It was Ramon who’d told Mark that vampires had to sleep in the dirt of their native land, who’d talked him into drinking canine blood so he could tell everybody that Mark was sick as a dog. He’d nearly convinced Mark to cut off a finger by swearing on his own grave that it was painless and would grow back, but Stella had stopped him before he found out how much the regrowing process would hurt.

  “Even Ramon wouldn’t make a mockery of his own sire’s anniversary celebration,” Stella said. “And Vilmos would be extremely offended if we didn’t attend.”

  “God forbid we should offend Vilmos,” Mark muttered. “Should I call him Grandfather or Granddaddy?” Since Stella was Mark’s dam, surely her sire deserved a title.

  “I wouldn’t advise it.”

  “Gramps? Grandpa?”

  “Just Vilmos. He isn’t known for his sense of humor.”

  “There’s a surprise.”

  She cocked her head to look at him. “Are you jealous?”

  “Just because we’re spending the weekend honoring the vampire with whom you spent decades traveling from one exotic hot spot to another? Why would I be jealous?”

  “I have no interest in Vilmos.” She kissed him so thoroughly that he was forced to admit her sincerity.

  “What about his interest in you?”

  “He has none.”

  He took in her curvaceous figure, currently enhanced by a perfectly fitted strapless red gown; the chestnut brown hair that just brushed her bare shoulders; and the lovely face that always seemed to have a secretive smile. “Why the hell not?”

  She kissed him again, even more sincerely. “Please come to the gala with me?”

  “Since you put it that way.” They took a moment to wipe off and reapply lipstick respectively, and he said, “What about Pop-Pop?”

  She squeezed his arm affectionately, but hard enough to bruise a human.

  “Vilmos it is,” he said as he opened the door.

  Despite Ramon’s questionable taste in humor, Mark had to admit that he had superb taste in mansion decorating. Stella’s and his suite was as luxurious as the finest hotel, and some of the others made theirs look like a Motel 6. Vilmos had the best accommodations, but he was the birthday boy as well as one of the oldest vampires there.

  A crowd of vampires was mingling in the ballroom when Mark and Stella made their appearance, plus a scattering of humans. Mark was surprised. He wasn’t used to humans socializing with vampires, but before he could ask Stella about them, Ramon bounded over.

  With a name like that, he should have been swarthy and sleek, but like everything to do with Ramon, it was a joke. He was a bearded teddy bear with strawberry blond hair and deceptively innocent blue eyes. Mark had it on good authority that he’d been freckled before spending so many years out of the sun.

  “Stella, you look fabulous,” Ramon said, kissing her hand. “And Marcus, you’re perfectly adequate.”

  “That’s one of us,” Mark said. He knew he looked damned good in his new tuxedo. With his dark hair and swimmer’s build, he was made for evening wear. Ramon, on the other hand, looked like a waiter. Maybe it was the cummerbund. Mark had never seen one decorated with happy faces before.

  Ramon just grinned before going to greet more guests.

  “Excited much?” Mark asked.

  “It’s his first time hosting Vilmos’s gala. He wants everything to be perfect.”

  “Then he should lose the cummerbund.”

  A gaunt but elegant vampire waved them over to the couch where she lounged. “Stella, dearest!”

  “Alexis,” Stella said as she went toward her. “How have you been?”

  “Eternally bored,” she said, and gave Mark the once-over. “This must be your new protégé.”

  “Alexis, this is Mark. Mark, Alexis.”

  “It’s so brave of you to add to your line in these uncertain times, Stella.”

  “I simply couldn’t resist him.”

  “Has Vilmos seen him yet?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure,” Mark said for himself, “but if he’s as warm and welcoming as you, I can hardly wait.”

  Alexis’s eyes narrowed for an instant, then she smiled. “I can see where you might be amusing. Come visit me in a few years, and we’ll talk.”

&
nbsp; “I’ll count the days.”

  “Well done,” Stella said as she and Mark moved away. “I haven’t seen Alexis smile in decades.”

  “Really? I thought she was a hoot. What was that about your bravery?”

  “Very few of us are offering the Choice these days, what with the economic downturn.”

  The tradition was for a vampire sire or dam to settle a chunk of change on their undead offspring, which Stella had done for Mark, even though as a successful financial planner, he already had a solid nest egg. The two of them met when he took over her investment portfolio and had only known each other a few months when she offered him the Choice.

  “Does that mean that all the other vamps here tonight are older than I am?”

  “Probably.”

  “Great. I love being the low vampire on the totem pole.”

  “No one cares about that.”

  “Please. Every meeting between vampires is a pissing contest, and you know it.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  Just then the guest of honor arrived. Mark had seen a portrait of Stella’s sire, but even without it he’d have known Vilmos the second he strode in. There was something about the way he chose which people to acknowledge, and how the other vampires almost wriggled in their eagerness to be noticed. It wasn’t his looks, though he was devastatingly distinguished—it was sheer force of charisma. Vilmos dominated the room.

  “Don’t look now,” Mark whispered to Stella, “but I think he’s about to start marking his territory.”

  Stella elbowed him, but was watching Vilmos as intently as everybody else. That initially included Mark, but when he made himself look away, he noticed another person who wasn’t watching. A gorgeous human woman with flaming red hair was pointedly looking at a statue in the corner of the room and, when Mark glanced back at Vilmos, he saw that the vampire was staring at her, as if he could make her look his way. Slowly, all the other people in the room, vampire and human, followed the direction of Vilmos’s eyes, and soon everyone was watching the sublimely oblivious woman.

  It was Ramon who broke the spell by clapping his hands, and a moment later a crew of waiters began to circulate with toothsome morsels to tempt the palates of vampires who no longer needed anything but blood. Since Mark still had to eat at least one full meal a day, it was most welcome—he’d been afraid there’d be no solid food.

  Unfortunately, that meant that his mouth was full when Vilmos sauntered in their direction, and he suspected that the older vampire had planned it that way. Vilmos embraced Stella at length before turning to regard Mark appraisingly.

  “So,” he said, “this is the new member of our line. Tell me, Stella, is it true? What I’ve heard about his talents?”

  Stella raised a delicate eyebrow in polite inquiry.

  Vilmos laughed heartily. “I refer only to his financial acumen.”

  “Mark is a genius,” she said simply.

  Deciding that modesty wasn’t called for, Mark didn’t argue the point.

  “Then perhaps I have work for him,” Vilmos said. “My own financial adviser has sadly passed away.”

  Stella gave Mark a prompting look, so he said, “I would be happy to make some recommendations.”

  “Splendid!” Vilmos said. “We shall talk later.” He embraced them both before moving on.

  “Did I pass inspection?” Mark asked.

  “Tentatively,” Stella said. “Just be warned that I heard that Vilmos’s previous adviser didn’t die of natural causes.”

  “Message received.”

  Mark knew that, objectively, it was quite a celebration. Food and beverages were served in abundance, there were plenty of willing blood donors available, and the band was excellent. Admittedly, Mark wasn’t expecting bluegrass, but Stella explained that Vilmos was currently fascinated with the form. Had anybody treated Mark as something other than Stella’s arm candy, he would have had a terrific time. As it was, he would rather have been watching wrestling, and he hated wrestling.

  Even the humans seemed aware that he was just a pup, relatively speaking. When he approached the lovely redhead who’d resisted Vilmos’s charm, she said, “Sorry, I’m taken.” Before he could protest that he was just looking for conversation, she retreated to the side of a trim-looking specimen who could have stepped out of any boardroom in corporate America ifhe’d still had a pulse.

  Interestingly, Vilmos was watching her, too, and for an instant the civilized veneer slipped away to show avarice.

  After that, Mark stayed with Stella, pulling her onto the dance floor as often as possible to keep from having to listen while he was assessed as though he weren’t even in the room.

  As dawn approached, the guests began to leave for their beds. Mark heard the redhead complaining that her feet were sore, and her vampire companion whisked her up the stairs in his arms. Several vampires laughed at the display, but Vilmos wasn’t among them.

  Clearly there was a story there, but Mark couldn’t get it out of Stella that night. They barely had time to strip off their finery and wash up before snuggling in bed as the sun rose. Then they slipped into death together.

  Mark was still able to move around during the day, and woke a little after noon. He’d intended to catch up on some paperwork while Stella lay in bed, but a note had been slipped under the door to tell Mark that there was a package waiting for him in the hall. When he opened the door, he found that Vilmos had arranged for a fat stack of financial data to be left for him. It was presumptuous as hell, but for Stella’s sake, Mark was willing to see if he could help.

  After checking in vain for a CD or spreadsheet printout, he sighed and got out his laptop to create a data file. Entering and analyzing it took the rest of the day, and he began to think that whatever had happened to Vilmos’s previous adviser, it wasn’t enough.

  Mark still had an hour to go before he could expect Stella to rise when he finally stood and stretched. Hungry for actual food, not just blood, he wandered downstairs to see what was available. Since there were humans around, there had to be something. The ballroom was empty, but in an adjoining dining room a handsome array of meats, cheeses, fruits, and vegetables was waiting. As Mark helped himself, a servant came to offer him something to drink.

  At first, he was the only one at the table, but halfway through his meal, the redhead came in and filled a plate. Considering how she’d acted the night before, Mark wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d gone elsewhere to eat, but instead she joined him.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met formally. I’m Mark.” He didn’t give a last name. Vampires usually didn’t.

  “I’m Reinette.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Reinette. That was some party last night, wasn’t it?”

  “Not bad,” she said, “but just wait until Geoff’s—it’ll be much nicer.” She watched him for a moment. “You’re still a baby, aren’t you?”

  “I bet I’m older than you are.”

  “I mean a baby vampire. Geoff never eats food.”

  Mark couldn’t think of an appropriate response, so he kept on eating.

  “Who’s your sire?” Reinette asked.

  “My dam is Stella.”

  “Stella ... Oh, one of Vilmos’s line. He bid for me, you know.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Vilmos really wanted me, but Geoff outbid him.” She held her hand out. “Geoff even gave me this ring as a signing bonus.”

  “Very nice,” Mark said, which was a massive understatement. It was a wondrous confection of diamonds and emeralds.

  “Geoff is so generous. I could never be a concubine to somebody who wasn’t generous.”

  “Naturally not.”

  “He gives me new jewelry every month on our anniversary. Of course, it’s in our contract, so he has to, but he has such wonderful taste.” She sighed happily. “Tomorrow is our anniversary, and I can’t wait to see what he got me. He has something in a velvet bag that he wouldn’t let me look at. Maybe it’s a nec
klace or a bracelet.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

  “I want something really special to show Vilmos how much Geoff appreciates me.” She lowered her voice. “Vilmos only got Ramon to invite us because he wanted Geoff to send me to him for a birthday present.” She wrinkled her nose. “Geoff would never do that, and besides, it’s in my contract that he can’t lend me out. So don’t bother asking.”

  Deciding that he didn’t want dessert enough to put up with Reinette any longer, Mark said, “Lovely to meet you,” and left.

  By the time he got back to the room, Stella was stirring, and he climbed into bed with her to speed the process. Ironically, this resulted in their remaining in bed somewhat longer.

  Once they were both up and dressed, Mark told her about his progress with Vilmos’s finances.

  “Can you help him?”

  “Of course. I’m a genius. But why are vampires such wimps with their money?”

  “We’re just cautious.”

  “Cautious investors don’t pull their money out the second the market drops half a point, which is what most of them were talking about doing last night. Cautious investors know how to ride out the tough times, to take the long view. If anybody should know how to take the long view, vampires should.”

  “Vilmos isn’t broke, is he?”

  “Not even close. In a year’s time, he’ll be able to buy and sell women at will.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I met a woman named Reinette downstairs who said Vilmos couldn’t afford her, though I hadn’t realized that slavery was part of the vampire lifestyle. You do realize that I come from an old New England family. We were abolitionists long before it was cool.”

  “It’s not slavery.” She rolled her eyes. “Foolish humans have trophy wives and boy toys. Foolish vampires have concubines. They actually contract with humans to act as regular blood donors.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Reinette’s family has served vampires for generations. She offered herself for auction last year and signed a contract with Geoff.”

  “What if she changes her mind?”