Night of the Living Dandelion (38 page)

K
yle bellowed in pain as he ran after me. He grabbed the handles of my wheelchair and jerked back with enough force to send me tumbling to the floor. I scampered under the worktable, my ankle throbbing from the pressure I was putting on my foot. I forced myself to ignore it as I tried to stay out of his reach. I had to stop him long enough to make a run for the front door.

I shook with fear, watching for my opportunity, as Kyle circled the table. Then I noticed a stack of five-pound bags of potting soil on the floor near the far end. Quickly, I crawled over to the stack, and when he came around the end, I pushed with all my might, sending them tumbling against his legs. As his knees buckled and he lost his balance, I scrambled out from under the other end of the table and dashed through the curtain.

When I was just yards from the front door, Kyle grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me off my feet. Tears of pain blurred my vision as he dragged me toward the back of the shop, threw me down, and straddled me, pinning my hands to my sides as he squeezed with his knees.

“See how things just seem to fall into place for me?” Kyle said, as I struggled to free myself. “Marco is called away, you show up here early, and Vlad gets cold feet.”

He readied the syringe, pushing up with his thumb until a bead of insulin appeared on the tip. “I wish I could be here to see the look on that wimpy
vampire’s
face when he finds out he killed again. My only regret is that I didn’t have a chance to waste that coward myself.”

There was a rustle of fabric behind me. Kyle glanced toward the curtain, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open. He nearly fell backward onto my legs as he struggled to get to his feet. Quickly, I twisted around and saw the outline of a tall man dressed in black, his shape backlit by the glow of the red security light. The curtains on either side of him formed a wine-colored cape that seemed to flow off his broad shoulders, making him look like a vampire.

Kyle was trembling so hard, he couldn’t speak. A dark stain spread down the front of his navy pants. He took another step back, shaking his head in disbelief.

The curtain closed behind Vlad as he moved silently into the room, a larger-than-life presence. He smiled at Kyle, his long eyeteeth looking sharp and deadly. “Who’s a coward?”

Kyle screamed shrilly as Vlad lunged and took him down. Within seconds, Kyle was on his stomach on the floor pleading for mercy, with Vlad’s knee in his back.

“Did Lori beg for her life before you stuck her in the neck, Kyle?” Vlad sneered, pulling Kyle’s arm up farther behind his back, making him sob in agony.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Kyle cried. “Lori was an evil woman. She needed to die. I did everyone a favor. I’m begging you! Let me go!”

“Do you have any rope?” Vlad asked me, ignoring Kyle’s pleas.

“I’ll get some twine.” Biting my lip against the pain, I pulled myself into the wheelchair, then rolled into the workroom and cut a long length of twine. Vlad wrapped it around Kyle’s wrists and tied it tightly. Then he bound Kyle’s ankles and used another piece to fasten his ankles to his wrists. It was done quickly and efficiently.

After pulling Kyle to the back of the shop, Vlad motioned me aside and crouched in front of me to look at my bandaged leg. “How badly is it hurt?”

“I don’t know, but it’s swelling up fast.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Abby. I had to let Kyle keep talking to get his full confession. I wouldn’t have let him hurt you.” He held out a small cell phone. “Take this. I recorded his confession on it.”

I put the phone on the chair beside me. “How did you get in?”

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a brass key. “Here you go. I took Jillian’s key from her purse when she was in the hospital. She gave me the alarm code, too, although she probably won’t remember. By the way, that was nice of you to leave a cot in your basement. I needed a safe place to hang out last night.”

“You stayed here last night? Did you know Kyle would show up here?”

“I wasn’t sure Kyle was the murderer, but after that press conference yesterday, I figured there was a good chance the killer would come after you.” He smiled. “I had your back, Abby. Never fear.”

Now I understood why Marco had said there was no one else he’d want guarding his back. “You saved my life.”

“And now you’re going to save mine. Make that call to the cops. I’m going out the alley exit.”

“Vlad, don’t run. Once the cops know that Kyle murdered Lori, you’ll be cleared.”

“You know they’ll lock me up until the warrant is pulled, and who knows how long that will take? Don’t worry. I’ll arrange for Dave Hammond to turn me in. There’s something I need to do first.”

“What do I tell the police?”

“That I changed into a bat and flew out the door.”

“Wait, Vlad. Have you heard from Marco? He promised to call me, but he hasn’t, and I’m worried.”

“You’ll hear from him as soon as he’s able to contact you.”

“What do you mean?”

Vlad gave a small shrug. “It’s Special Ops, Abby. Make that call now.”

 

Reilly was first on the scene. He had called my cell phone to check up on me, and when I didn’t answer, he’d started for Bloomers when the emergency call came in. After that, more cops arrived, followed by an emergency response team, Lottie and Grace, and crime scene investigators. The media camped outside to photograph and interview everyone they could, and the curious public gathered in groups across the street to watch the spectacle.

The rest of the morning was one long blur. Lottie and Grace parked me in the parlor and kept me supplied with cups of Grace’s special blend of tea, guaranteed to be both bracing and calming, while I answered endless questions. When there was no more I could tell anyone, the detectives left, and my assistants went to begin the cleanup process. Only Reilly stayed behind. He sat down across from me at the table. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you responded to my message.”

“I wish I’d caught it sooner.” Reilly leaned closer and said quietly, “Listen, if you have any idea at all where Vlad is, you should let me know. He’s better off turning himself in.”

“I understand that, Reilly, but I honestly don’t know where Vlad is. Besides, he didn’t kill anyone. Don’t scowl. He promised he would give himself up soon.”

“I hope you’re right.” Reilly glanced down, turning his hat in his hands. “I heard about Marco being called up early. I just want you to know you can contact me anytime you need me.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it, Reilly. I hope when Marco returns, the two of you can be friends again.”

“Me, too.” He stood up, put on his hat, adjusted his thick leather belt, and strode out.

 

The news of Kyle’s capture and arrest spread quickly. By that afternoon, we had more customers than we could handle. Reporters tried to get in, but my self-appointed guardians kept them out. First it was Rafe at the door, and later it was Tara and her friends, who had stopped by to take my photo for their Facebook pages. My parents came by to make sure I was okay, and Jillian also made it to the shop to collect the belongings she’d left behind.

“Are you fully recovered?” I asked her, when she came up from the basement with her Neiman Marcus bags. “No more red meat cravings?”

“I’m not turning into a vampire, Abby. I realize it was an infection and that you, Claymore, and the doctor weren’t trying to poison me. But I still wonder about Vlad being a you-know-what. There has to be a reason I couldn’t get his photograph.”

“That reminds me.” I wheeled to my desk and picked up her key, dangling it in front of her. “Vlad wanted me to return this to you, but since it’s mine, I’m keeping it.”

“How did he get it?”

“He took it from your purse when you were in the hospital. You gave him the code to my alarm, too.”

“I did not! I would never give that out.”

“It’s okay, Jill. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. You thought you were sharing secrets with your guardian vampire.”

“Whatever,” she said, waving it off. “Where is Vlad? Shouldn’t we be giving him a medal for catching the murderer?”

“He said he had something to do, but he promised to come back.”

Jillian sighed dreamily. “That is such a heroic thing to say.” She patted her shopping bag. “Thanks for taking care of my
accoutrements de nuit
. I’ll see you at the country club tomorrow night. And that reminds me.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “With Marco gone, you’re not going to announce your engagement, are you?”

I touched the ring hiding beneath my sweater, checking to make sure it was still there. “Yes, I’m going to announce it.”

Jillian gave me a sorrowful shake of her head. “Don’t do it, Abs. It’s not right to do it alone. Hold off until Marco gets back.”

“I don’t know how long that will be. Besides, you’re the one who insisted I make the announcement tomorrow.”

“That was then. This is now.” She patted my shoulder. “But whatever you decide, I’m good with it.”

 

I was not in the best of moods on Friday. My ankle was suffering the aftereffects of the punishment it had taken the day before, and I was suffering from an aching loneliness. I hadn’t heard from Marco, and I feared it was because he’d been shipped overseas immediately. I felt his absence keenly, but I followed Lottie’s advice and plodded forward. Luckily, I had Bloomers, my oasis in the desert.

I dreaded attending the family dinner, but there just wasn’t a good way out. Rafe offered me a ride, so I accepted, feeling a little more cheerful, being with bubbly Chelsea. She kept us entertained on the way there with stories from her student-teaching experience. I was so pleased that she and Rafe had hit it off. I had a hunch she’d be a stabilizing force in his life.

Rafe dropped us in front of the country club, then went to park the car. Seeing him drive off in the Prius, looking so much like his older brother, brought on a sharp pang of sadness. I turned away, leading Chelsea into the sprawling one-story brick building.

“This is beautiful!” she said, gazing around. We were standing near the lounge, with its grouping of plush chairs and sofas, baby grand piano, and thick Oriental carpet. “Don’t you love coming here?”

I decided not to dampen her enthusiasm by admitting I felt about as comfortable there as I imagined a queen would feel dining at a 7-Eleven. Next to my skilled surgeon brothers and their socially adept, fashionably dressed wives, I was always the fish out of water. Tonight was just especially difficult.

I pointed to the left and told her about the enormous banquet rooms, where a wedding reception was in progress. Downstairs were the clubrooms, pro shop, and exercise rooms. The dining room ran along the back of the facility, its long stretch of windows and French doors facing the extensive flower gardens and the golf course beyond. And on the far right side of the dining room was a doorway to a private room, which my brothers had reserved for the dinner.

“We’re back there,” I said, pointing to the doorway.

“I hope they like me,” Chelsea said, giving me a nervous smile. “Rafe tried to prepare me for, um”—she shrugged apologetically—“his mom.”

“Don’t let Rafe scare you. Mrs. Salvare is a warmhearted lady. She just gets a bit enthusiastic at times. And you’ve met my dad, right? You know he’s a great guy. And the rest of the gang you don’t need to worry about. They’ll be busy picking me apart.”

My mom was watching for us from the doorway, and as soon as she saw us, she hurried out to give us hugs. “Chelsea, I’m so glad you could make it. Abigail, how’s your ankle?”

“It’s okay,” I said, attempting a carefree shrug. I could hear lots of chatter and laughter coming from the room and suddenly didn’t feel ready for it. “Why don’t you take Chelsea inside and introduce her? I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Mom hooked her arm through Chelsea’s and led her into the lion’s den. I turned and steered toward the hallway, wanting to put off my entrance for as long as possible.

Rafe came through the double glass doors and called, “You’re going the wrong way.”

“I’ve decided to crash the wedding reception.” At his puzzled frown, I pointed toward the ladies’ room. “That’s where I’m headed.”

“Gotcha.”

In the ladies’ room I stood at the black granite counter and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Did I really want to go into that back room? But what was my alternative? Sit at home with Simon and watch TV? Maybe I’d try Marco’s number again. If I could hear his voice, I might have the courage to face the family.

I dug out my cell phone to see if I could reach him, but I wasn’t getting a strong signal, so I left the building and walked to the other side of a brick column, under the wide portico just outside the glass doors. I hit speed dial number two and listened, but the call went to voice mail. Damn!

“Aren’t you coming inside?” Rafe called from the door.

“In a minute.” With a sigh, I slipped the phone into my purse. “I still can’t reach Marco.”

“Why do you need to do that?”

“Because, Rafe,” I said impatiently, turning, “I—”

It wasn’t Rafe. It was Marco.

He was wearing army fatigues and brown boots, and had a brown canvas bag slung over his shoulder, as though he’d come straight from the base. He strode toward me with open arms and hugged me against him, lifting me off my feet. My crutches fell to the sidewalk with a clatter and I squeezed him tight. “You’re here! How did you get back? Where have you been? Why didn’t you call?”

“Whoa, Sunshine. Take it easy,” he said, getting me back onto the crutches. “I wasn’t able to call until just a few hours ago, and then I decided to wait and surprise you. I’m sorry, babe. I would have phoned if I could have. But I did get to hear your messages, and Vlad told me what happened with Kyle when he picked me up today.”