Sweet Last Drop (7 page)

“Torn apart? Is there any connection between the Dunbars and Lydia?”

Walker shook his head. “I need to research Lydia’s wounds and examine the Dunbars before we assume anything. If the Dunbars have the same injuries, maybe the same animal who attacked Lydia this evening attacked the Dunbars tonight.”

“And maybe they’re both vampire attacks.”

Walker leveled his gaze on me. “We won’t know ‘till we examine the Dunbars. You ready?”

I shook my head. “If country vampires are anything like city vampires, my vote’s with Ronnie. We should wait until sunrise. There’s nothing we can do now that we can’t do in daylight.”

“Berry, Keith, and Riley are expecting me,” Walker said, exasperated. “I’m tracking the animal on this case, remember?”

“I don’t care about Berry, Keith, and Riley,” Ronnie whispered, still sniffing. “I care about you.”

“Berry, Keith, and Riley?” I asked.

“You just met Berry, the coroner. Sheriff Keith Pitston and his deputy, Officer Riley Montgomery, will be at the scene and expecting me,” Walker explained. To Ronnie he said gently, “Bex won’t kill me. You know as well as I do that I’m less at risk than anyone else out after dark.”

“No, she’ll turn you, and then you’ll be as good as dead anyway. Isn’t that what you always say, Ian? That you’d be dead to us?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll have DiRocco with me,” Walker assured her. “I’ve seen her entrance a vampire as easily and completely as they entrance us. She’s better equipped to protect us than all of my weaponry combined.”

I shook my finger at him. “Don’t put this on me. I came here with specific goals in mind, and none of them involved protecting your coven of night bloods. I’m here to find the facts, not to save lives, and the facts can wait until sunrise.”

“Will they?” Walker stepped closer and tipped his voice in a deep, taunting whisper. “If you don’t come with me tonight to interview witnesses and report tonight’s murders, you know damn well someone else will. You’ll be out-scooped.”

Rage swept like a backdraft through my veins, and I opened my mouth to blast him with its heat. Before I could articulate my anger, he turned his back on me, opened the front door, and left the house.

Since discovering the existence of vampires and my own identity as a night blood, I’d struggled to balance my career and survival, but as Walker had just so accurately stated, I couldn’t interview witnesses and out-scoop my competition while hiding in my apartment. This crime fluctuation feature, in addition to being an excuse to visit Walker, allowed me to trick my boss, Carter Bellisimo, into thinking I was still in the game as a competitive crime reporter. In reality, I was swiftly becoming a hermit obsessed with the sunrise/sunset calendar.

I watched Walker’s back as he strode across the yard, confident and empowered and purposeful, and I ached inside. This was what my experience with vampires had done to me. They’d stripped my ability to live according to my own terms. They’d confined my life according to their schedule, and they’d compromised my abilities as a reporter.

My rage switched targets, and I stepped out of the house into the night.

“You’re going with him?” Ronnie asked, shocked.

I looked back at her. “Did he leave me much choice?”

Ronnie pursed her lips. “Don’t let his demands become your only choices. His goals and intentions are very important, but that doesn’t make yours any less important. I have to remind myself of that every day.”

I considered her words carefully before I spoke. “You didn’t know that Bex could survive in daylight, did you?”

Ronnie shook her head. “I don’t get out much.”

“She just needs to stay confined to the shadows,” I said, “but otherwise, she doesn’t need to wait for sunset to leave her coven.”

“So in the hours between sunrise and sunset, we’re still not entirely safe.”

I opened my mouth, but Ronnie had already turned her back and walked into the house, leaving me on the porch between the two of them, my head safely inside with her and my heart torn somewhere between Walker’s pickup truck and common sense.

* * * *

John Dunbar and his wife, Priscilla, had been sixty-three years old, high school sweethearts, and enjoying dinner with their daughter, Alba. She was attending cake decorating classes at the local bakery, Hot Buns, and her parents had been so impressed by her new fondant skills, they’d stayed later than usual to have a slice of her newest creation—strawberry-vanilla marble cake with chocolate icing and a flip flop-shaped fondant topping. The Dunbars left Alba’s apartment shortly after sunset without taking their extra slice, so she packed the slice in a Tupperware container and drove after them.

Alba only made it five minutes down Elm Street before finding their upturned car on the side of the road. Their bodies had been thrown so far from the car that Alba hadn’t found them until Officer Riley Montgomery and Sheriff Keith Pitston arrived at the scene, which was actually very fortunate considering their injuries. Officer Montgomery removed Alba from eyeshot of her parents’ remains—what little there was left—and brought her to his car to recover. I kept her company while more officers flooded the scene, examined the bodies, and gathered evidence.

Berry had arrived in his van a few minutes ago. Although they wouldn’t move the bodies for several hours, after all evidence had been collected and photography had been captured, he was deep in conversation with Sheriff Pitston. If the Sheriff’s deepening crease between his brows were any indication, I’d need to snatch another interview from Berry. For the moment, until the activity at the scene settled, I contented myself with interviewing Alba.

I leaned on the frame of Officer Montgomery’s cruiser as Alba huddled in the passenger seat. I tried to keep my interview light and unobtrusive, but I didn’t need to ask Alba questions to encourage her story. She couldn’t stop talking about her parents. I listened and wrote some brief notes, but throughout the entire conversation, I couldn’t help but think,
dear God, not another baker.

John and Priscilla were the golden couple, according to their daughter, and their love was why she was still single. They’d taught her to never settle because once she found the right love, she’d have the rest of her life to enjoy it. She’d never settled, so she was alone. Now, being an only child, she was completely on her own.

Alba clammed up after that. She covered her mouth with her hand and just shook her head in shock. I didn’t have the words to comfort her—I knew how deep and sharp grief could stab—so I just sat with her in silence until Officer Montgomery returned. He was in his late twenties, like Alba, and from the looks he was shooting her, Alba wasn’t as alone as she felt.

“Is this woman bothering you, Alba?” he asked

Alba shook her head, but she hugged herself a little tighter and started rocking back and forth from her perch on the passenger seat.

Officer Montgomery turned to me. “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I think you’ve done enough here. Please be so kind as to leave the scene and Miss Dunbar to me.”

“Have I done something wrong, Officer?” I asked congenially. I reminded myself that this was not my turf and reined in my temper.

His face flushed. “If you can’t see what’s wrong here, there’s nothing I can do for you, ma’am. You can teach manners, but you can’t teach morals.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to. I’ve been keeping Alba company. Seems to me like she needed it.”

As I’d hoped, Alba’s name sparked her awareness. She glanced up and smiled wanly. “Hi, Riley.”

“Is this woman bothering you?” Officer Montgomery asked again, pointing at me.

“No, not at all,” Alba said, shocked. “She’s been wonderful company. I’ve never met a better listener. I just can’t believe that—” Alba covered her mouth, and her throat made horrible squealing noises as she tried and failed not to cry.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sure Ms. DiRocco is the best listener,” Officer Montgomery said, glaring at me. “We’re just finishing up at the scene. I’ll stay with Alba, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I said, ignoring the implication that I should leave.

“I’m not askin’ your permission,” Officer Montgomery said, his twang sharpening. “I’m tellin’ you, ma’am. You’ve outstayed your welcome.”

His tone penetrated through Alba fog. She frowned. “
You’re
being rude, Riley. Why should Cassidy leave? She’s Walker’s friend, and she’s been wonderful company.”

“She’s a reporter, Al.” Officer Montgomery said, as if he were unveiling the man behind the curtain.

Alba nodded. “I know.”

Officer Montgomery frowned. “What do you mean, you know?”

“She told me. She works for
The Sun Accord
in New York City. Walker brought her here to write a story on crime comparison between country and city life, and she asked if she could sit with me. And that’s what she’s done, just sit with me.”

Officer Montgomery looked back and forth between us, and whatever he saw, he obviously didn’t like. His face flushed a dark crimson in mottled patches across his cheeks. He stepped in close and tipped his voice to a whisper, but in stepping closer to me, he was closer to Alba as well. “I know your type.”

I raised my eyebrows. “My type? I’m not sure you know me well enough to know—“

“Idon’t need to know you to know where you’re from. You city hot shots think you’re better than us. You’d do anything for a story. You’re taking advantage of a woman’s grief, but I ain’t gonna let that happen.”

Anger, like hissing steam, flashed through me and heated my face. I opened my mouth to to say something I’d regret when a glint behind Officer Montgomery caught my eye. I hesitated. A glowing orb blinked a few yards into the woods, like a mirror reflecting the moonlight. I knew that glint almost better than I knew my own reflection.

I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed the vampire watching us from the woods, and another movement caught my gaze. Walker was shaking his head at me. He had joined the conversation between Sheriff Pitston and Berry, but my argument with Officer Montgomery hadn’t been as private as I would have hoped. A few other officers were staring at us, most of their expressions disapproving and aggravated. Walker, however, looked furious.

He was shaking his head at my argument with Officer Montgomery. He hadn’t seen the vampire. No one had.

“You’ve worn out your welcome, Ms. DiRocco,” Officer Montgomery said. “I’m telling, not asking, you to leave Miss Dunbar alone.”

Alba’s mouth dropped open. “Riley! That’s completely uncalled for!”

“It’s all right, Miss Dunbar.” I patted her knee and then held out my hand for Officer Montgomery to help me stand. “He’s right. I’ve worn out my welcome.”

Montgomery hesitated a moment before taking my hand and helping me to my feet. He didn’t trust my easy acquiescence, but he wanted me gone badly enough to accept it without question.

“Before I leave, would you mind giving me a statement?”

Officer Montgomery’s face pinched. “You’ll have to speak with Sheriff Pitston about statements.”

I nodded. “I certainly will. Thank you for your help.”

He returned my nod but eyed me carefully as I walked away. I could feel the heat of his gaze as I walked toward Walker’s truck. Had he been Greta or Officer Harroway or nearly any city cop, I would have cajoled my way into squeezing more information about the case, but I didn’t have the clout or notoriety here that I had in the city. In fact, if Officer Montgomery’s treatment was any indication, I was starting from the very bottom of the totem pole, lower even than when I’d started in the city simply because I was from the city. But if I could write a book about anything, I could fill page after page about how to claw my way back from the bottom.

Walker had rejoined his conversation with Sheriff Pitston and Berry. I waited until Officer Montgomery turned back to Alba. He knelt in front of her, giving her his undivided sympathy and affection. While everyone else was distracted by other conversations, I ducked behind Walker’s truck and into the shadowed overpass toward the police tape. I squinted into the darkness beyond the police parameter, scanned the surrounding trees, and waited.

After a minute, my gaze caught the glint again. My eyes were drawn to it, and I could feel the deep, wrenching pull of its mind connecting with mine. Its strength couldn’t compete with anything I’d experienced with Jillian or Dominic, but nevertheless, it rooted deep inside me, shaping my will. It wanted me to step toward it. I could feel the force of its desire stimulating the synapses in my brain to move my legs, one foot in front of the other, to walk toward it.

The force of its command was light and coaxing. I could resist if I wanted, but if I resisted now, I wouldn’t have the advantage of surprising it with the depth of my own strength. From experience, that slight advantage could make the difference between bleeding and surviving.

Vampires were willing to sacrifice anything, even their own anonymity, to get what they wanted, and at the moment, with dozens of police officers and emergency personnel to choose from, this vampire wanted me. As prejudiced as Officer Montgomery and the rest of Sheriff Pitston’s team might be, they didn’t know the dark like I did. I could talk a good talk to Walker about being here to report the facts, not to save lives, but when faced with the reflective double glint of a vampire’s eyes staring at me, staring into me, I was glad that mine was the life on the line. I didn’t want anyone else getting caught in the kill zone between me and the vampires.

I took one halting step and then another into the woods, away from the illusion of protection that the police provided, and toward the vampire.

* * * *

A heavier, denser darkness lived in the woods compared to the train overpass. Its thickness was like trying to see underwater; just when I thought I’d approached what looked like a boulder or tree branch, I’d reach out to catch my bearings and touch nothing but shadows. The reflective glint was only a dozen yards away now. I stumbled uncertainly, and my heart leapt to pound on my eardrums.