She shakes her head, grimaces, leans over, and vomits onto the floor.
I clean up the mess for her as the paramedics rush in. They check her pulse, and I overhear the one remark on how low her heartbeat is. Strange. Her body felt cold to the touch. She had said the guy “felt ice cold.” Now her own body is cold after being bitten.
Just what is going on?
I offer to ride with her to the hospital, but she ignores me, staring vacantly into space. I maneuver myself to be in her field of vision, but she doesn’t blink. She doesn’t seem to hear any of us, and she doesn’t appear to remember me.
Leaving her isn’t easy, but there’s nothing I can do for her. I’m not a doctor.
But I am a cop. Maybe tracking down the vamps is the best way I can help.
Not that I have a lead on their location, but I can stop by and see how Gizmo is holding up. He acted so strangely yesterday that I’m worried about him. He’s not at his house, so I check all of his special spots, but he’s not there either.
My instincts tell me something bad has happened to him, and I return to his house and bust down the door. Yeah, not exactly legal, but all the way in the back, I see something that has me calling the station yet again.
I’ve found Gizmo all right, sans his head. He’ll never be able to say another word. Never be able to sweet talk anyone to make them thank him for taking their money off their hands. Never be able to take a hit or dope up others.
Never tell me what exactly happened.
There are old, possibly abandoned track marks on his arms, nothing by his wrists, and his neck is gone. It’s horrific, terrifying. Whoever did this is repugnant, revolting. They deserve to face a thousand lashes, to be put down.
Normally with a beheading, the neck remains with the body, but not in this case. It’s such a devastating sight.
Why remove the neck?
The only possible explanation I can come up with is that the murderer wanted to hide the bite marks on his neck.
One of the vamps has struck again.
Chapter 14
After the headless body is taken away, I’m resigned to once again go to the station and give a statement. The moment I cross the threshold, the lieutenant stomps his way over to me. He crosses his burly arms, lips pressed tightly together, brows low over his beady eyes. “What in the world is going on with you, Tempest? Why does it seem like whenever there’s a crime lately, you have your nose in it?
“Rotten luck, I guess.”
He harrumphs. “I’m keeping my eye on you, Tempest. I swear, if you’re involved somehow…”
I gape at him. He’s walking back to his office, and I hurry behind him. Did anyone else overhear him? Do any of them think the same thing? I’m not a criminal! I’m not a murderer, and I definitely would never behead someone!
“Lieutenant, you have to believe me. There is something huge and underground going on in this city. There are men who—“
“Men?” He walks around his desk and settles into his chair. “You think more than one person was involved in Gizmo’s murder?”
“Yes.” Directly or indirectly, yes.
He sighs and rubs his sweating forehead. “What is it you want, Tempest? You’re not supposed to be here.”
“How long is my vacation supposed to last?”
His nostrils flare. “You haven’t taken a vacation because your nose is still against the grindstone despite my ordering you to stop.”
“I can’t, Lieutenant, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. You can’t just stop being a cop if you’re not wearing your badge. You know this. When you become a cop, you’re always a cop. You’re never the same.”
“What’s your point, Tempest? That you plan on ignoring a direct order from your lieutenant?”
“My point is that I’m already working this case.” I place my hands on his desk and lean forward. “Put me on Gizmo’s murder. Let me find the guy who did—“
“You mean vampire,” he interrupts. “Vampires aren’t real, Tempest, and that’s why you can’t be on his case.”
“You have to!”
“No can do.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a suspect,” he says quietly.
“Me? But…”
“Did you forget your protection? Garcia and Kerns followed you to Gizmo’s place. Want to tell me what you two talked about?”
“He had been attacked before by the same man who murdered Jennifer Hamilton. I was trying to get more details from him.”
“And the house you went to before Gizmo’s?”
I sigh. “Another victim. A woman by the name of Calinda Moore. Lieutenant, the number of people who have been bitten is growing. You can’t deny that—“
“When the M.E. comes back with an estimated time of death, you better be willing to give your whereabouts for that time period.”
It infuriates me to no end, but I wait around until Henrietta Goldersnatch comes back with a time of death window. I almost wilt with relief when she says early that morning. I invited Diego and Felix inside to have breakfast with me before I went off to visit my informants. Too bad I didn’t do a better job of giving them the slip. Regardless, no one can pin this on me.
Considering two officers back up my alibi, I’m ruled out immediately. That I had been a suspect for even a second leaves me in a foul mood. Out of the interrogation room, I wordlessly blow past Marlon and Travis and return to the lieutenant’s office.
How quickly I go from needing protection to being a suspect. What is the world coming to?
Just then, my cell rings. I grimace. “Can I be excused?” I ask the lieutenant through gritted teeth.
I’ve never had a problem with him before, not even when he denied my transfer request because he felt I needed more time on the force. But now, the way he’s treated this investigation so far infuriates me. Yes, I realize how crazy I sound, how unbelievable it is, but the evidence is starting to pile up. He has to see that!
“Stick to your house,” he answers coolly.
I don’t dignify that with a response, spin on my heel, and march out of the station. By now, the caller has hung up, but I call back immediately.
“Hello, is this Officer Tempest?”
The voice is vaguely familiar. “Yes…”
“This is Dr. Dean Cline. I understand you were the one to find Calinda.”
“Yes.”
I forgot I left him my card. I always do that. Force of habit. I’m glad he doesn’t think I was forward about it. Although, if Marlon doesn’t open his eyes soon, maybe I should look elsewhere. A hot, compassionate doctor will definitely be a worthwhile possibility.
“Do you have a question for me?” I ask, trying not to get my hopes up. I walk over to my car, climb in, but don’t start it.
“I thought you would like to know that she has passed away,” he says softly, guilty.
I wince, dismayed. “What? Why?”
“As far as I can tell, complications but from what I’m not exactly sure. Her heartbeat was far too low. Her skin was incredibly cold as a result of the lack of blood circulating throughout her body. She hardly had the strength to lift her arms, her muscles were so weak.”
“She had photosensitivity the other day,” I muse, unwilling to ignore any detail that may prove useful.
“Hm. I’m not sure what caused her symptoms. We’ll run some tests and complete a full autopsy, considering this might be related to her attack.”
“You think so?”
He hesitates. There’s a loud commotion behind him. “It’s too early to be certain. I have to go. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thank you, Dr. Dean. I appreciate your helping the investigation like this.”
“Of course,” he says grimly, a faint trace of frustration and maybe even anger in his voice.
Remembering his reaction to my refusing to report my attacker, I wonder if he has a woman in his life who’d been abused before. Hero complex all the way, but do
n’t all cops have that too to some extent?
“Anything to help,” he adds.
“I won’t keep you, but do stay in touch.”
He hangs up, and I press my forehead to the steering wheel. Death has always been a part of my life. My parents. Potentially my birth parents. Drug users and abusers and dealers turn up dead all the time. And now Jennifer Hamilton, Calinda Moore, and Gizmo, and potentially others that we haven’t discovered yet.
What to do now? Because I’m not going to give up. The chances of my being in the way of the ones actually investigating the case are small. I’m taking a completely different angle than they are. An assumption to some degree but a safe bet. I believe in vamps. They don’t.
Calinda may be my best bet. I need to find someone she might’ve turned to. That way, I can learn more about her symptoms or if there was a connection to the attack. She’d been convinced they would kill her, and it seems like they had, but not by physically attacking her again. Just through the bite.
I sit back, eyes closed, and rub my neck. The vamp intruder never bit me. On purpose? Does a victim always die from a bite? I kinda doubt that. If vamps are real, and their bites are lethal, then there should be a lot more dead bodies with fang marks.
And Jennifer Hamilton’s neck, I’m certain the vamp wanted to disguise the bite mark. Why bother? The vamp moved too deliberately, for the torn bite mark to have been from surprise or shock at my approach.
Red eyes, fangs, a possibly lethal bite, super speed… Do they possess any other traits? Can they create new ones?
All right. Enough sitting here. Thinking isn’t going to solve anything.
I move to start the ignition when I spy Marlon. He waves, and I wave back, but when he walks with purpose toward me, I climb out of my car.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Are you all right? Things have been kinda rough for you lately.”
I just blink.
“Yeah, okay. That’s an understatement.” He shuffles his feet. He’s not wearing a coat. Why is it that guys never seem to get cold? Despite his long sleeves, I can still see the bulge of his large biceps. “I wanted to run something by you.”
“Sure thing.”
It feels good to be sought out like this, even though he risks irritating the lieutenant if word gets back to him. I’m not supposed to be working vice right now.
“Mercedes and I have a lead on Gizmo’s murder.”
Wait, what? They’re partnering up with homicide?
“What is it?” I ask a little sharply.
It’s stupid and petty for me to feel miffed, but I do. Does the lieutenant have it out for me? Has he been stringing me along this whole time? Bethlehem has been my home since I was adopted. I’m not about to ever ask for a transfer, but, seriously, I’ve never been this pissed at the lieutenant before.
I’m not sure how things could get worse, given that my “vacation” has turned into a suspension.
“I want to ask you some questions first.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’ve already been cleared—“
“Oh, come on. That was just a formality. No one really thought you did it.”
Uh huh. I’m sure Mercedes would love to pin this on me.
All right. I know I’m being unreasonable. A few deep breaths and I feel relaxed. Well, a little less uptight.
“What are your questions?” I ask cheerfully, smiling a little too widely.
Marlon sighs and leans his back against the hood of my car. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”
“What gives you that impression? I’m fine.”
“Fine. A woman’s universal signal for just the opposite.”
“You going to keep stalling, or are you going to ask me your questions?”
“I’m just trying to help.” He thrusts a hand through his hair in the universal sign for frustration. “So, word out on the street is that Gizmo had screwed over Slammin’ Sammy in favor of Hank the Tank. It’s possible that—“
“You really think this is drug related?” I stand next to him and rest against my hood, arms crossed.
“Well… yeah…”
“It’s not,” I say flatly. “There was another victim. A woman by the name of Calinda Moore. She had been bitten—“
“Bitten? Wait, you’re saying that this woman and Gizmo are related to the Jennifer Hamilton case?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I’ve said too much. Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?
“Hamilton might’ve been bitten. She had marks on her neck. You sound convinced this Moore had been bitten—“
“I saw the marks, and she told me she had been!”
“Why didn’t she come forward? There wasn’t a report filed, was there?”
“No.” I never did get around to asking her about this, but it’s not hard to figure out. “She was terrified. She even went to Gizmo to get drugs to kill herself with!”
He raises his eyebrows. “That’s extreme, but it does connect those two. Still, there weren’t any bites on Gizmo.”
I jerk away from the car and glare at him. “His head and neck were detached from his body!”
“You really think it’s vampires?”
I hate this!
“You want to waste your time with Hank the Tank and Slammin’ Sammy like we’ve been doing for years, go ahead. They’re too well connected, and we haven’t been able to make anything stick and probably won’t ever.”
“That doesn’t mean we should let them get away with murder!”
“They didn’t commit these crimes. And the murders they’ve ordered, we’ve pinned on the ones pulling the trigger. Getting to the head honchos… maybe it’s impossible.”
“Even Al Capone was captured,” he argues.
“He was a gangster, not a drug dealer,” I counter.
“He was addicted to cocaine.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“You learn something new every day.” Some of his anxiety melts away as he slowly smiles, one dimple winking at me.
“Learn this. I know you aren’t a believer, but you will be. Hopefully before it’s too late.”
“Clarissa…”
“Be careful sniffing around Hank the Tank and Slammin’ Sammy.” The image of that kid who shot himself with my gun flashes before my eyes.
He squeezes my shoulder, warmth flooding me despite my jacket preventing him from touching skin. “You be careful yourself. There are a lot of bodies piling up.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Stop ducking your detail, okay? Travis hates working alone. If you’re away for much longer, you know the lieutenant is going to assign him to another unit.”
“You and Mercedes.”
“Probably not since we’re teaming up with homicide, at least for now. If we find proof his death wasn’t drug related, we’ll be cut out. What was the name of the woman who died? Not Hamilton, the other one.”
“Don’t worry about her.”
“But—“
“A report was never filed,” I say quietly, trying to backpedal some.
“A murder is a murder,” he protests.
“Of course, but she had been sick before death,” I hedge.
“From the bite?”
Damn, he’s a sharp one.
“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrug, not meeting his gaze. “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s all a big coincidence.”
“And maybe the sky isn’t blue.”
I glance upward. “It’s not blue today.”
“It is behind the clouds,” he points out.
“You always this argumentative?”
“You always this stubborn?”
“Guilty as charged.”
His laugh is soft. “Clarissa…”
The way he says my name should make my knees weak, but I’m over this. Over him. Over vamps. In a way, I do want to take that vacation the lieutenant so desperately is pushing on me.
“It’s just stress,” I m
utter. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course, I’m going to worry. You have connections to a lot of crimes. I don’t think that means you’re involved, of course, I don’t, but I’m concerned that you might be in danger. If you’re a target—“
“I have Diego and Felix.”
“Who are good at their job but you keep giving them the slip. I swear, Diego’s gonna have a heart attack.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t need protection.”
“You don’t have a gun right now. How can you go out looking for trouble without one?”
“I’m just that brave. But I’m not gonna go out anymore. I’ll be a good girl. Stay inside. Binge watch a show. It’ll be… fun.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I exhale. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Right. Have you been smearing oil beneath your eyes?”
“No!”
He grimaces and rubs his forehead. “The bags beneath your eyes would require an overcharge for an airline.”
“You’re terrible at jokes,” I tease.
And then my stomach does the most embarrassing thing.
It rumbles. Loudly.
I always thought it was just a saying, but no, apparently, it really is a thing.
Of course, Marlon overhears. He doesn’t laugh, though. Instead, his grimace deepens. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“Uh…”
“You need to start taking care of yourself. Go home. Get something to eat.”
“You’re not my boss.” My lip pushes out in a pout.
“No, but we’re friends, and I care about you.”
“Friends don’t give friends grief when they’re trying to do something incredibly important.”
“They do when that friend is walking the danger line.”
“I won’t stop,” I say quietly. “If you have any leads, I’d love for you to share them.”
He glances at the station before his gaze falls to the ground. “As long as you do the same. Got anything to share?”
“I’ve told you everything. Got anything for me?”
“Well, Gizmo has been mostly underground lately. Maybe he was planning something against the big wigs. He did always think he was smarter than everyone, that he should be the cream of the crop. But whether or not that’s related is undetermined yet. We’re just starting the investigation. If we could just find his head… His place had been wiped clean. No prints, no fibers, nothing. Well, outside of you, but since you found him, that’s why. But no prints from Gizmo anywhere. The murderer wiped down the place thoroughly.”
When Vamps Bite (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 1) Page 10
