by Gina LaManna
“Pain meds,” Matthew said. “Can you run it for traces of narcotics?”
“What’s a homicide detective doing mucking around with narcotics?” Felix grossly scratched at his privates. “And why is it so important you had to come to my house? It couldn’t have waited for me to get to the lab?”
“Bodies are dead. And missing. And the one thing they have in common is a doctor prescribing this,” Matthew said, staring around at the dank interior of Felix’s home. The man had it outfitted with gadgets of all shapes and sizes, but apparently, he couldn’t afford lights. “Why are you home?”
“It’s eight pm!” Felix coughed in disbelief. “Most people get off work at five or six, eat dinner, and are home in bed with the missus by this time.”
“Like you have a missus.”
“Shut up, vamp,” Felix said. “It’s not like you do, either.”
A deathly silence followed.
“Sorry,” Felix said, realizing his slip. Nobody in the department teased Matthew about Dani. It was an unwritten rule. “I shouldn’t have said that. Fact is, I was at the lab all last night. I haven’t showered in almost forty-eight hours and I’m a mess. I’m just home to shower and head back to the lab.”
“You’ll process this right away?”
“What do you think I am, an ATM? You can’t just hand me something and expect results to pop right back out.”
“What if I told you I’d make it worth your while?”
“What sort of while?” He squinted at Matthew. “I’ve got a hankering for a date, as a matter of fact.”
“Nope—off the table.”
“I’m not talking about Dani—she scares the balls off me,” Felix said with a shudder. “How about her friend Willa?”
Matthew winced, shook his head. “Not a good time for her.”
“Is she involved with someone?”
He cocked his head. “Sort of.”
“You are a lying sack of potatoes.”
“Her mother is sick,” Matthew said. “It’s not a good time. Choose something else, Felix.”
“Four of DeMarco’s pizzas delivered to the lab. Tonight.”
“Done.” Matthew extended his hand, and with a dangerous smile, gave Felix’s a shake. “And for God’s sake, shower. Please.”
“You don’t have to breathe!” Felix snapped. “Give me a break.”
“Lucky thing, or else I would have died,” Matthew retorted. “All over again. I expect results by morning.”
“Yeah, yeah, get your ass out of my house.” Felix slammed the door behind Matthew.
Matthew smiled, already half a mile from the tech-wizard’s place. There was nobody who could put a smile on his face as much as that idiot, save for maybe Dani. But in entirely different ways. The genius didn’t take any crap from him, and Matthew appreciated that. Neither did Dani. Apparently, Matthew King had a type.
Next, Matthew headed back to HQ to file a few reports with his assistant before she went home for the night. However, one step into the building, and he heard his name called. Matthew closed his eyes, wishing word didn’t travel quite so fast in these parts.
Within seconds, Matthew had ascended the stairs to the chief’s office. He knocked once on the half-open door, then let himself inside.
“Chief,” he said, giving the orc behind the desk a wry smile. “Are you testing me?”
Chief Newton threw his ugly head back and belted out a contagious fit of laughter. “Didn’t work, huh?”
“No sir,” Matthew said, “but with all due respect, if you test me again, I’ll shove my foot up your ass.”
The orc wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. Lately, he’d taken to playing a stupid game where he’d speak Matthew’s name as softly as possible to see how far away the vampire could get before he was out of hearing range. Matthew preferred to keep him guessing.
“I have a bit of a, ah, sensitive issue I want to discuss with you,” the orc said, gesturing to the chair. “Take a seat.”
“I prefer to stand.”
“Have it your way.” The chief put his hands behind his head and squinted at Matthew. “I want to offer Danielle DeMarco a full-time position with the NYPD.”
Matthew wasn’t surprised, though he was skeptical. “She wouldn’t take it.”
“That’s not your answer to give, is it?”
“I’m just warning you—she retired for a reason.”
“I know, and I’ve asked around.” The chief folded himself forward over the desk, squinting at Matthew. “I’ve got a little something different in mind.”
Matthew’s ears perked up; he would love nothing more than to work with Dani once again. “In what way?”
“The girl wants freedom,” he said, waving a hand. “Full access special consultant. She’ll get all the perks of working for the precinct, but she doesn’t have to work full time hours. Complete access to records, discounts, benefits, what have you.”
“What’s the catch?”
“She’s on the hook for the difficult cases. We might call her in ten times in one month and then once the next month. Flexible hours, she can work from home so long as she swings by once a week with a full report and is available by Comm around the clock.”
Matthew felt his fangs descending, though he couldn’t say why. “I still don’t think she’ll be interested, sir.”
“With all due respect,” the orc snapped back at him, “I’m not asking for your opinion, Captain. I’m asking if you’re involved with her.”
“Detective DeMarco?”
“Dani,” he said, “don’t play coy with me, King. Are the two of you an item or not?”
“Why does that matter?” Matthew nearly bit his tongue as he said it. The question was juvenile and came off so. “She won’t be...ah, I see.”
The orc grinned. “That’s the second catch. She’ll be reporting to you. I’m not assigning her to Commander Thomas when he’s halfway out the door, and we haven’t settled on his replacement.”
Matthew felt a spike of pain shoot through him. If Dani took a job reporting to him, then there was no way they could be together. It would be firmly on the wrong side of the rulebook and people would be watching. That much was guaranteed.
“You’re right, sir, that’s not my decision to make.” Matthew stood taller, his back rigid straight. “For the record, Danielle DeMarco and I are coworkers at this time and nothing more.”
“You swear to that, King?”
Matthew’s mind flicked back to the embrace on the bench, the kiss they’d shared during the last case. He thought forward to the night ahead of them, and his desires to spend it wrapped around her warmth. Last, he thought of her conviction that their night wouldn’t mean anything.
Nothing.
The word replayed in his mind. He couldn’t, in good conscience, take this opportunity away from Dani if it was what she wanted. If she didn’t take the job, then maybe there would be potential for something more, but that was her decision to make. He’d lost that right when he’d broken things off with her.
“I swear it,” Matthew said. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“You don’t sound hopeful.”
“I’m not holding my breath, sir.”
Chapter 12
Matthew found Willa and Dani sitting inside a quaint little cottage belonging to Ms. Bloomer. The two ladies had tea resting on a table before them, along with a dainty plate of cookies and sandwiches the size of Matthew’s thumbprint. The women lounged on teal couches in a bright yellow room that would have looked perfect in a little country home.
Sandy brown furniture gave an air of breeziness throughout the room, even as the first hints of moonlight began peeking through the frilly curtains. A piano sat in one corner, not dusty enough to be considered unused, and the familiar scent of baking cookies came from the cluttered, homey kitchen just off the living area.
Matthew felt out of place at once. He didn’t belong in quaint, charming places. According to le
gend, he belonged in dark, dim cellars or sleeping in a coffin—all ridiculous folklore, but not altogether false. He did prefer to work by night. When the moon washed the land in silver, a new set of magic descended over the world. That’s when he could move without all eyes shifting to him, without the almost hostile cheeriness of daylight crowding out his more serious personality. At night, he was often alone. He liked it that way...most of the time.
When he saw Dani sitting next to Willa on the couch, her face pinched in worry and her hand clasped around her friend, he felt a pang of longing. Dani was forced to hold back so much of herself on the job, at least in an emotional sense. Matthew missed seeing the vulnerable side of Dani that came out around only her closest friends and family.
During those short bursts of time where she allowed feeling to dictate her life, the outcome was something beautiful. She cared more, loved harder, cried more easily and laughed louder than anyone he had ever known. After having lived for centuries, Matthew had come across thousands of individuals, yet in every way, Dani was utterly, perfectly unique.
“Matthew,” Dani said, snapping him to attention. “Did you find anything out from Felix?”
“Enough,” he said. “Willa, may I speak to your mother alone for a moment?”
“Um—” Willa’s gaze flicked toward Dani.
“Are you sure you don’t want me there?” Dani asked Matthew. “I can help.”
Matthew could see Willa wasn’t primed to make a decision. Dani would be the one to convince her, so he turned his attention to her. “I’d like to have a word—in private—with Ms. Bloomer. Of course, if she’s able.”
“She’s doing okay,” Dani said. “We stopped by the hospital and Anita did a workup on her. She’s...well, she’s okay. The hospital is waiting for test results to come back, and in the meantime, a doctor prescribed her appropriate medication. Anita will swing by on house calls to make sure she’s improving.”
“Good,” Matthew said. “Then if I may...”
“My mother’s upstairs,” Willa blurted. “Bedroom at the end of the hall. Go ahead.”
Matthew nodded his thanks, then pulled himself toward the worn staircase in the corner of the room. He climbed upstairs at a human-paced crawl, forcing himself to slow down. By the time he reached the top, he stopped, took a breath—another unnecessary human trait—and scanned the small hallway to find the bedroom door half-cocked.
Matthew eased his way to the end of the hall, sure to create some noise as he moved so as not to startle Ms. Bloomer. When he raised his fingers and gave a light knock, she answered almost at once.
“Come in, dear,” Ms. Bloomer said, “you don’t have to knock, Dani.”
Matthew cracked open the door further and apologetically stuck his head through. “It’s not Dani, ma’am. I’m Captain Matthew King of the NYPD.”
“Oh, a vampire.” Willa’s mother sucked in her breath and gave the brightest smile she could muster. “Never thought I’d catch the attention of one in all my years of living. Come on in, though I apologize for my lack of hospitality.”
“How are you feeling?” Matthew asked. “I apologize for stopping by unannounced.”
“You’re here about the doctor and my medicine, aren’t you?”
Ms. Bloomer’s eyes narrowed on the vampire, and he cringed under her gaze. She saw right through him, a quality he normally appreciated. This time, it just made him uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I know.”
Matthew snapped his head up and saw recognition in her eyes. At once, he understood. Kady had known exactly what she’d been getting into with Dr. Johnston. Matthew expelled a breath. “I’m sorry to have to bother you with this, but I believe people are dying because of those pills. If I could avoid it, I wouldn’t disturb you.”
“Disturb away,” she said softly. “I’m a bored old woman who’s a burden on my daughter. Come, have a seat.”
There was a wicker-style porch chair beside the bed and a book folded on the table next to it. Matthew had to wonder how many afternoons and evenings Willa spent sitting next to her mother reading, just being close to her. At once, he felt a searing ache pass through him, somewhere deep beneath his unbeating heart. He finally understood how the job had gotten to Dani this afternoon. It was getting to him, too.
“Danielle is very lucky to have your daughter as a friend,” Matthew said. “Willa is quite an amazing woman.”
“She’s a beautiful girl,” Ms. Bloomer said, “and an even more beautiful person. But then again, so is your girl.”
Matthew blinked, startled.
“I see the way you look at Dani,” Ms. Bloomer said. “Why don’t you do something about it?”
“I have—well, I did,” he said. “I don’t believe she wants me anymore.”
“I don’t believe in your baloney,” Ms. Bloomer said, sounding so much like a dainty old Englishwoman that Matthew had to laugh. “The two of you are drawn to one another in a way that’s too rare to pass up. If I’ve learned one thing in this lifetime, Captain King, it’s that our days here are numbered and short. You shouldn’t waste a second doing something that makes you miserable.”
“But—”
“Being away from her makes you miserable,” she said. “I’m assuming you broke that girl’s heart—or else you two would be together.”
Matthew tried to hold eye contact with the old woman, but it was a challenge.
“I’m an observant old bat,” she said with a smile, then reached over to the vampire’s cool hands. “It’s not too late for the two of you. Don’t waste your time together—by spending it apart, Captain King.”
“Thank you,” he said, touched by the warmth of her hand as it covered his lifeless one. “I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” she said, giving him a hard pat against his stony skin before retracting her hand. “Try harder.”
He laughed. “I appreciate your honesty, Ms.—”
“Call me Ms. Bloomer one more time, and I’ll be forced to stake you,” she said with a brightening grin. “I’m Kady. I told Dani the same thing earlier today.”
“Kady,” he said, turning the name over in his mouth. It fit her. Rounded, bright, young—how Matthew imagined her before whatever illness had struck and captured her beauty. “I’m sorry to be here asking difficult questions.”
“I’m sorry you took my meds away from me,” she said with a grim smile. “But what can you do?”
“Nurse Anita—she’s the best nurse in Wicked—treats all the officers who are sick or go down on the job. I’ve personally asked her to keep an eye on you. I guarantee you’ll receive the best care.”
“Oh, goody.”
“In the meantime,” Matthew said, his voice growing more and more somber. “I need to understand a few things. Did you know what you were getting into when you signed up with Dr. Johnston?”
“Of course.”
Her conviction gave Matthew a jolt of surprise. “You knew—”
“Let me explain something, Captain. I have limited time left on earth, and I don’t plan to use my time here to snitch on someone else.” She gave a grim smile. “My time for judgment will come soon enough.”
“Let me explain something,” Matthew said, raising a hand to silence her. “People have died. People who, by all accounts, didn’t seem ready to die. I can’t speak for the dead, but I can do my best to find justice for them.”
“They weren’t ill?”
Matthew shook his head. “We had two dead victims in recent weeks over the age of fifty. However, by all accounts they were in prime health and should otherwise be alive, save for the fact...they aren’t. Their bodies gave up.”
Ms. Bloomer frowned. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“It’s not, and that’s why I’m investigating,” Matthew said. “Even more strange is the fact that their bodies are now gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Gone—as in vanished,” Matthew said. “The bodies were kept i
n the morgue after their autopsies, but now, they’re no longer there. What if one of them had been Willa?”
“But Willa wouldn’t go seeking...” she trailed off. “You really think it’s murder?”
“Murder comes in all shapes and sizes,” Matthew said, “and it’s my job to bring justice to killers. So, I hope you don’t take it personally when I say, Ms. Bloomer, that I don’t give a damn about you not wanting to snitch. I want the truth.”
“Then I hope you’re not upset,” Ms. Bloomer said with her nose in the air, “if I ask you to use my damn name. It’s Kady.”
Matthew found his lips twitching into a smile despite the grim subject matter, and he gave a shake of his head. “I see where Willa gets it from.”
“What?”
“Her spunk. Zest for life. Whatever you want to call it.” Matthew tilted his head to the side. “It’s a shame you decided to give yours up.”
Matthew’s candidness had the intended effect. He wasn’t known as the Homicide Unit’s best interviewer because of his blunt force—but because of his ability to connect with people. In a way, his lack of many traditional human mannerisms had forced him to study the species for so long that he was better at predicting emotions than most other cops. He’d wanted to understand emotions and the physical tells that went along with them in order to mimic them himself—little signals that meant a person was nervous, sad, defiant, angry, hopeful. And he’d done exactly that with Willa’s mother.
Kady’s lip trembled and her fingers toyed with the comforter pulled to her thin chest. Though Matthew hated to upset her, he needed answers.
“You have to understand,” Kady said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I’ve been dealing with this illness for most of Willa’s life. Almost as long as she’s been alive. Her father left us when she was four, and it started sometime after that. I went to doctor after doctor and they couldn’t find anything wrong with me except the pain. Some of them finally threw their hands up and decided I was just suffering from heartbreak.”
“You disagree?”
“I wasn’t heartbroken except to see my little girl growing up without a father. And even then, I knew I was woman enough to raise a strong and independent daughter on my own.” She gave a sad smile. “I hope I accomplished that.”
