Blood Reaction A Vampire Novel (14 page)

BOOK: Blood Reaction A Vampire Novel
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Trying to decide if I should tell him Asa’s real name, I decided it couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t exactly like he could be traced. “And his name was Asa. I’m sure you’re not going to believe this, but I don’t know his last name.”

“You’re right. I don’t believe that so try again,” he said, leveling his most stern detective expression at me. It was time to play hardball.

“I really don’t know. He was only a good for a few one night stands. Good enough for sex, but not good enough to take home to Momma,” I explained, leveling my best ‘I’m not taking any crap’ look at him.

He raised his eyebrows at me and let silence fill the space between us, but I kept my cool and didn’t try to fill it for him. That was one of the first things doctors are taught when dealing with attorneys. Don’t incriminate yourself. Facing him couldn’t be any worse than a few attorneys I had met. At least he was on the right side.

“Ms. Creed, you may not understand the seriousness of my visit. I’m not here just because your fuck buddy squeezed your neck. There’s not enough time in the day to respond to all of those calls. You should know that we found Ms. McElhaney dead last night. Her great-nephew came to visit when he couldn’t get a hold of her,” he told me, pulling a couple of pictures out of his pocket and leaning forward to shove them into my hands.

It was really hard to gross me out but even I was unprepared when I looked down at the photos in my hands and the surprise on my face at least appeared genuine. Looking up at the detective with a gasp, we stared at each other for a moment before I tore my eyes from his in order to study the photographs.

After my initial surprise, I could see that there was very little left of Ms. McElhaney’s neck. The lacerations were all the way to the bones of the cervical spine with the platysma muscle ripped to the side. The remnants of the sternocleidomastoid muscle could be seen on either side and I was pretty sure I could make out one end of the internal carotid artery on the left.

More haunting than anything was her eyes. They were open and staring straight ahead. I knew the last face she had seen as his fangs had cut into her neck. I would see that same face again this evening and I would probably suffer the same fate. Maybe even tonight when he caught the scent of the detective.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to keep my composure but failed and shoved the pictures back to the waiting policeman. “Why did you show me that? She was my friend. Reminded me of my grandma.”

I nearly shouted at him since I was so angry with him for forcing me to remember her that way, for being here, and for presuming I had been involved in her demise. But I knew that was illogical, he was just following up on leads and doing his job.

“Do you think your ex had anything to do with this?” His voice was quieter and calmer now, expecting me to be more forthcoming.

“I didn't know him that well, but he didn't really seem like a killer.” I was lying through my teeth, of course he was a killer. Asa would have been proud of me though, my pulse didn’t even increase.

“And you have no idea where he’s gone.” He said the words like a statement, not a question.

“No, I really don’t. He left. Probably headed back out West where he came from. I’m pretty sure he lived somewhere in California. He seemed the type. And no, I don’t know his last name.” My tone was sharper as I answered him. I threw my feet up on a footstool indicating my boredom with his questioning. We sat staring at each other now for a couple of minutes.

“So you have nothing to hide?” he asked, with just as much attitude as I had answered him with.

“Are you implying I had something to do with Ms. McElhaney’s death?” I shoved up out of my chair now with a lot of speed and stood looking down at him. He needed to leave and now. Nothing good was going to come from his visit and I was getting more and more antsy. Close to agitation even.

Catching him off-guard, he struggled slightly to get up out of the chair. He couldn’t quite match my speed but when he finally did, he fairly towered over me. I hadn’t realized how tall he was. I could see in his eyes that something about me didn’t seem right to him.

“You don’t seem that upset she’s dead, yet she has pictures of you and your daughter all over the place,” he observed, spreading his hands out in front of him. “What’s wrong with this picture, ma’am? Your neighbor is dead and you just don’t seem to care.”

“I care. Of course I care. I loved that old woman, but there’s nothing I can do about it and I had nothing to do with it. Why don’t you get out there and look for the thing that did it and leave me alone!” Currents of rage ripped through my limbs as my heart raced and my breathing became irregular.

I was genuinely angry and I was handling this all wrong. I knew it, but couldn’t seem to stop. I honestly meant the part about finding the thing that had done this. That would be pretty amazing.

“Detective, maybe you should leave,” I announced walking towards the front steps to show him out.

“I’d like to look around your house, ma’am. You shouldn’t mind. If you really have nothing to hide that is.” His tone was slightly threatening, almost daring me to defy him.

“No I don’t think so, Officer. This is my home. I’ve done nothing wrong and you’re not going to treat me like a common criminal. It’s time for you to go. Goodbye.” He had followed behind me as I walked and we were standing on the porch where the sidewalk began.

Continuing on, he walked down the steps onto the sidewalk and turned to face me. “Actually that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’ll get a warrant and I’ll be back just like you are a common criminal.” Taking off his hat with one hand, he tipped it at me. “Ma’am,” he concluded and strode quickly to his car. I guess he forgot that he was supposed to use the bathroom.

He drove slowly down my drive, even slower than Asa. When he was out of sight, I collapsed onto the top step and rested my head in my hands.
Great, I really screwed this up,
I thought to myself.

I was upset partially because I had let him get under my skin the way he did. I should have kept better control of my reactions since I had so much at stake. Detective Rumsfield would be back all right. I didn’t doubt it for a second and I would bet good money that he would have a warrant. The good old boys mentality was alive and well here, he would get the warrant whether there was evidence or not.

Knowing he would return at some point and I had no time to lose, I walked into the living room and surveyed the mess. The pool of blood was a stinking nasty mess surrounded by broken glass and knocked over furniture.

Taking a deep breath, I went straight to work on the gruesome spot on the living room floor. I had seen blood what must be a million times, but this big coagulated puddle was disgusting. I guess because it was mine and because of what it represented. The smell was revolting to the point of nausea as I knelt next to it and began scrubbing at it with some towels and a bowl of hot water.

After I had cleaned up the large pool and then the footprints, I noticed the seams of my hard wood floors were stained a maroon color radiating outwards about three feet from where the pool had been. It must have set long enough that it had drained down in-between the boards. That would be impossible to get out.

I had seen enough true crime shows to know that, but I also knew there was nothing I could do about it so I decided to do the most classic true crime cover up of all and roll out a runner carpet I had stored earlier in the year in the basement.

I mused to myself on the way to the basement that it was almost like I had kept it there for this exact purpose. I had nearly thrown it away several times, but just kept hanging onto it for no good reason. It was heavy and more than just a little bit musty, but I dragged it up the stairs easily, hoping that the detective’s sense of smell would be like most people in this area and out of shape from all of the allergens.

Picking up the tall wall shelf was easier than it looked. It was really quite light, made of bamboo, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to pull it over on myself that first night. Making quick work with the broom, I swept up all of the broken glass and rearranged the surviving knickknacks on the shelves. There weren’t many left since most of them had broken when I brought the shelf down.

As I was picking up the last figurine off of the floor, my fingertips brushed against photo paper and looking down I saw it was a forgotten picture of Ellie from the year before. It must have fallen out of one of my books when I was using it as a bookmark.

Without thinking about it, I rocked back onto my heels and stared at her beautiful face. She looked so happy and I really noticed for the first time just how much she had grown up in a year.

Tears started to spring to my eyes, but before they could really get going, I shoved the picture back into one of the books and stood up. There was no time to waste on tears with Detective Rumsfield on his way back over.

I stood back to survey my work. It looked presentable at least and it definitely smelled better, even though I knew it wouldn’t stand up to a deep forensics survey. Then it occurred to me that all they would find would be my blood even if they did tear the place apart. There was nothing that could pin Ms. McElhaney on me.

Gathering up the dirty towels and water, I threw the towels in the washer along with the water, and an entire gallon of bleach. The only thing that would have made it more classic true crime would have been to burn the towels and pour the water down the sink, where it could have later tested positive on a swab.

For the first time today, I thought about food when my stomach made a noise that was almost disturbing. Opening the kitchen cabinet, I grabbed an assortment of anything I could find and munched it down quickly. It seemed strange but although I was hungry, the food didn’t taste quite right. Almost foreign but I knew I needed it so I ate it anyway.

I had nothing else to do now except wait for whatever was going to happen. If the police hadn’t shown up, I would have still been in bed until late into the afternoon. So I lay back down on the couch and closed my eyes, not really planning to fall asleep but just wanting to avoid the brightness of the sun streaming in through the cracks in the blinds.

 

 

 

 
ten

 

 

No sooner had I closed my overly sensitive eyes, I was opening them to the epic sound of the doorbell again. Knowing who it was immediately, I got up just as quickly if for no other reason than to keep him from ringing it again.

Making it to the door before he could ring it again, I threw the door open to find, just as I expected, Detective Rumsfield standing on my front porch with as much arrogance as one man could muster.

His long left arm was lifted up and resting on one of the columns supporting the wide overhang of the porch, the other was resting nonchalantly on his right hip. He was no longer wearing his coat and I noticed immediately that he was in much better shape than I had first realized. Tall and strongly built, I wished momentarily I could unload all that was happening to me onto his strong shoulders.

The smug look on his face said it all. He had the warrant and there would be no way around letting him in now.

“Ma’am, I have a warrant to search the premises. I’ll need you to stand out here while I have a look around.”

“I’ll just bet you do. Call in a favor, Detective? This is bullshit and you know it.” I fought to control my anger, but wasn’t quite successful. Would being a vampire always mean being emotionally unstable?

Not rising to my words, he simply smiled and gestured for me to step outside. Glaring at him as I crossed the threshold, I turned to watch him walk in and, just like I expected, he took his hat off before he went into my house. How perfectly polite.

Sitting down in the low-hung swing, I waited patiently for him to do his search. No longer alarmed, I focused on not letting the swing glide into the patch of light bending itself around the corner of the porch.

Pushing my left foot against the wall, I swung gently, listening to the detective walk around my house. He obviously chose to go upstairs first and I could hear his heavy footsteps moving from room to room. Finally, I heard him come down the stairs, pause momentarily on the landing, then walk into the living room.

He paused where he stood at the entrance into the living room. I could imagine him surveying the room, wondering if the floor runner was a new addition. He must have stood there a few seconds before I heard him lift a foot to continue on through the room. With that step, his foot made contact with a piece of glass I must have missed.

Cringing when I heard the crunch, I held my breath expectantly; I waited to see if he was going to pull the rug up to study the floor underneath his feet. But instead, I could hear him picking up and replacing the few remaining knickknacks on the bamboo shelf.

Ticking off each piece in my head as he examined them individually and then placed them back on the cabinet, I could feel my muscles relaxing when he moved on towards the kitchen. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he walked back out onto the front porch, placing his hat back on as he stepped out the front door.

I smiled at him from my semi-relaxed position on the porch swing, waiting for him to speak. It was very strange how I was partially relieved by his presence, but at the same time terrified he was here. Despite knowing his being here was going to open an entire new can of worms, it was still comforting to be around a human. I was really desperate, I realized, for this little touch of humanity since I might die earlier than scheduled.

“I’ll need to look around outside now and I’ll need you to stay here until I’m done,” he instructed, looking down at me as he walked down the steps.

“No problem. I’ll be right here waiting for you to get back,” I replied, smiling my best ‘butter can’t melt in my mouth’ smile.

I waited for him to return, which took about a half hour. There was very little to interest him in the barns as I expected. The buildings were old and other than storing my saddles and farm tools, I didn’t spend much time there and it showed.

“Find anything out of order?” I asked as his heavy footsteps landed on the porch. Without asking, he sat down in one of the old porch chairs.

“I didn’t find anything to cause me to dig deeper,” he answered, folding his arms across his chest.

I started to get up to show him to his car, but his next words froze me in place.

“But I know something is wrong, Annalice. Your house is a mess. There are empty cartons, jars, and boxes all over the kitchen. Your laundry’s piling up. What’s going on? Is your ex threatening you? You act like everything is fine but I can tell that you’re lying.”

He had that concerned voice again and I could see by the look on his face that he was sincere. His face softened while he watched me, he folded his hands between his knees and leaned towards me.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I could picture myself telling him about the vampire and I could almost hear the words pouring out of me, describing the last few days that I had spent in hell to him. I imagined him believing my ludicrous tale and I also imagined he would have a plan. A plan in which I would unquestionably survive. Together, we would face Asa and win or maybe find his daytime resting spot and kill him. In my mind’s eye, I could see that he would believe me.

My daydream must have lasted longer than I realized because he brought me back to reality by clearing his throat a couple of times. I opened my eyes and looked across the short distance that separated us, knowing that my reality was set and it was backwards. The daydream should have been the vampire and reality should have been spilling my troubles on this hard-working detective.

“Detective Rumsfield, I’m fine. Really. My ex is long since gone and I’m no housekeeper. Just enjoying a little bachelorette time with my daughter being gone. Nothing to worry about. It’ll be clean before she comes home and life will get back to normal. Well, except Ms. McElhaney and that just breaks my heart. She was a real sweetheart and I’m going to miss her.”

Part of my spiel was a lie and the other part truth. I would miss my sweet elderly neighbor, but life would never be back to normal.

His face had tensed up at my partial truths and between gritted teeth, he responded, “I can tell you mean that, Annalice. I know you’re a good person. I did my background work on you. A doctor with no criminal history at all. Not even a speeding ticket and no history at all of any domestic violence calls. I’ve followed you all the way back to high school. I probably know more about you than your momma and that’s why none of this makes any sense. What you’re hiding and why you’re hiding it makes no sense to me. But you’re hiding it all the same.”

Silence filled the air with tension and I waited, again not offering to fill that space, to see how far his anger was going to carry him. Sensing that he was trying to remain calm, I knew he was struggling. His hunches were good, but he had nothing else to go on. I would have been frustrated too.

“One more thing,” he said jabbing a long finger in my direction. “You obviously don’t know much about operating a broom. There are several shards of glass on the living room floor. Interesting thing is I looked at your little knickknacks and most of them are chipped at least in one place or another. Like the entire cabinet fell over and not too long ago either, because none of the chipped parts have any dust, unlike the shelf, and you were just in too big a hurry to clean up real well.”

“That doesn’t sound like a crime to me, Detective. So I’m not the best housekeeper, I don’t really think you can arrest me over that.” Sarcasm dripped into my voice and I heard him laugh a little darkly to himself.

“Yeah, you’re right but I’ll be back, ma’am. Don’t doubt it. And by the way, you might want to put away your saddle. Wouldn’t want it to ruin.” Turning quickly, he strode angrily towards his car.

Standing in the shade of the porch, I watched him walk down the old stone path towards the parked police car and the policeman waiting for him.

Pausing about half-way down the walk, he took a deep breath and stood for a second. I guessed he had something else he wanted to say but needed a second to calm down before he could. With a slight drop of his head, he turned and walked even quicker back towards me, taking the steps in one stride before thrusting something into my hand.

Instinctively, my hand closed around the stiff business card feeling the edges bend slightly in my hand. He was very close and his nearness caught me off-guard, causing me to step back quickly but he followed. He was too close.

Close enough I could smell him for the first time. The first time I truly caught his human scent, the scent that I was losing and I wanted him suddenly in an unfamiliar way that I couldn’t put a name to.

Close enough that I could hear his heart beating. It sounded strong and I could hear the different valves closing, pushing his blood through the four chambers.

Focusing on it for a moment, I listened to the splitting of his aortic and pulmonic valves when he inhaled. I gasped audibly at the beauty of the sounds, having only heard them before through the muffled earpiece of a stethoscope. It took my breath away.

Having heard my gasp, he reached out and caught both of my shoulders in his hands. Again, a need I couldn’t put into words surged through me, causing my knees to go a little weak but his hands steadied me with both their strength and their warmth.

Placing my cooler hands over his, I pulled them away. “Detective,” I told him quietly, “it’s not what you think.”

Staring at me silently for a second, he let his hands fall down to his side and took a step back. “Call me Michael and keep my card close by. It’s got my cell phone and office number. Call me if you need anything, Annalice. And I mean anything.”

He stopped there with a quiet sigh. I could tell he was debating whether to really tell me what he thought or to just softball his concern to me.

He must have chosen the latter because his voice was slightly softer when he resumed. “I don’t think everything’s OK, but I can tell you’re not ready to talk and I can’t make you. But I want you to know that we can work through whatever the problem is.”

Tipping his hat again, he walked towards his car, this time without stopping or sparing me another glance. And I didn’t watch him go this time either.

Instead, I went back into the house so I didn’t have to see my last and only hope, no matter how small it was, disappear down the driveway. I was in this for the long haul and there was no other way out for me.

But this man shouldn’t have to die. I was certain that Detective Rumsfield, or Michael, wasn’t going to give up. He didn’t believe my story and I really couldn’t blame him for that. I was pretty certain he would keep surveillance on my house tonight, which was a terrifying thought. Certain he wouldn’t catch Asa unawares, I knew the opposite wouldn’t hold true.

It probably didn’t matter. He had probably signed his own death warrant along with mine by just coming here. If only there was some way I could warn Michael, but that was simply not possible. He wouldn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame him. If someone had come into the emergency room with this story, I would have called psych immediately.

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