Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) (6 page)

9. Body Dumping 102.

The really great thi
ng about vamps is that when they say
I’ll be right there,
they mean it.

Flying cuts down on all sorts of traffic.

I was still pondering the length of time tonight’s endeavor might take, how long I
truly
needed to get ready for my date, creating a mental list of Things I Should Be Concerned About with my current situation and whether I should call Ash now or not, when Morgan arrived.

Have I mentioned my tendency to ignore the nastier side of reality - even when it is less than ten feet aw
ay - and find something,
anything
, else to concentrate on?

Duck and dodge. It
’s a leftover survival mechanism from my Witch Academy days.

“
I know you’re cursed Kate, but this is taking it a bit too far, don’t you think?”

UDBFs can get away with all sorts o
f irritating comments. Especially when you’re the one who called them to help dump the body in the first place.

Also, as the sun was still out, I knew she
’d put on UVBGone in order to come help me. UVBGone does just what it says. Morgan hates it.

She was a
llowed an irritating comment. ONE irritating comment.

As per her usual, Morgan looked like she held the starring role in an XXX-rated dominatrix film. A really good XXX-rated dominatrix film.

I’d recently learned that a dominatrix role wouldn’t be a stretch for her. At all. Go Morgan.

Red hair curled in a complicated twist with strategic strands escaping to linger around her face and over her shoulders in a deliberate come hither manner. A leather bustier in a complimentary shade of blood emphasized her bus
t and itty-bitty waist while leaving her shoulders bare to moon over. Her skin is a creamy ivory so smooth and silky it makes one’s fingers itch to touch it.

Mine included and I
’m totally hetero.

Al
’s chest expanded in my hands right before he sighed heavily. Apparently Chihuahuas were not immune either.

A wide black leather belt encircled her waist. In its center a large red stone glittered.

Her pants matched her top in material and color. Four inch spikes peeked out from under the cuffs and clicked over my floor.

In mortifying contrast, I was nearly positive my dirty brown curls had decided upon their own sense of direction a good three hours ago. My green t-shirt had wrinkled to the point where most of the wrinkles looked to be permanent.

I hadn’t bothered with a belt. None of them wanted to fit anymore and I’d worn my jeans for the last three days straight.

Translated: they had stretched enough to be
almost
comfortable.

My biker
’s boots haven’t been clean since the day I bought them.

It amazes me we
’re best friends. Any day now I expect my envy to take over and sabotage our relationship. Thankfully it would have to battle my deep and totally unconditional love for her.

Love trumps envy any minute of the day in my book.

“I had nothing to do with the body, Morgan.”

She arched one perfect scarlet brow.

“She’s tellin’ the truth. The body was dumped before we got here.”

“
Oh.”

Drat them. Did they have to sound so disappointed?

Two dead bodies in one month certainly exceeded
my
personal quota.

“
Did she touch it?” Now they were speaking as if I wasn’t even around. Sitting in the middle of my own office.

“
She used her wand to move the flag. More so she wouldn’t have to touch the blood than worryin’ about trace,” Al said.

Concern over the possibilit
y that I might somehow leave behind traceable evidence versus my natural witchy horror over blood and a dead body should have been forefront in my brain?

I considered my circumstances, the current dead body and the one from just a few weeks ago.

Yes. It should have been. Damn it.

“
Can we re-focus here?” I glared at them both. “I’d simply like to get rid of the body before any cops show up, arrest
me
and throw away the key.” I checked my watch. “Preferably with enough time left over so I can get ready for my date.”

Morgan and Al both sighed, but followed me outside.

“You have a date with Ash tonight?” Morgan walked in a complete circle around the body. Al growled.

“
Uh-huh.’ I smoothed his fur back down. “In an hour and a half.”

Morgan toed the senator
’s left foot. “No problem.”

“
Speaking of dates, how did yours go last night?”

Morgan actually smoothed back her hair at my question. I
’m sure it was a totally subconscious gesture on her part, but, Sweet Glinda, it shocked me.

Pure excitement shimmered in her eme
rald eyes. We’ve been friends for nearly three years now and I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen such heady emotion in those eyes.

Zilch.

Mischief, boredom, the occasional snicker and once in a great - and too-long-between - while a full on belly laugh. But excitement? After nearly fifteen hundred years of living?

“
We started off in Paris, had a lovely bottle of aged A-negative. Then we took a walk along the cliffs in Aberdeen. The wind started to pick up a bit and I’d had my hair done before the date so we left and went to London to see The Taming of the Shrew.” She sighed. “The one we saw was actually better than the original.”

Considering Morgan
’s age,
the original
probably took place during Shakespearian times. More than likely directed by the great bard himself.

She
’d had her hair done? I re-visited her up-do. For a date? Al butted my chin closed with his head. It dropped back open.

Morgan had a major crush going on.

And where the hell was Aberdeen?

“
We got back just before you called.”

Ah. Time zone differences. Got it.

“Sounds like a great time.” Ash and I would probably hit the greasy spoon a few blocks from my apartment.
Madge’s Place
served the best fries in town.

I guess if I stretched my imagination, I might be able to consider our
upcoming date somewhat cosmopolitan since we’d each order our own
french
fries.

Aberdeen? Was that a town, county or different realm entirely?

“It was wonderful.” Morgan sighed. Yet again.

I frowned. “
So, when do I get to meet him?”

I
’ve only seen Drake once, a few weeks back at
Got Fangs?
. He’d appeared at our table and asked Morgan to dance. I’ve not had a chance to shake hands and cast a quick truth spell with him yet.

Morgan bent to examine the election flag. She didn
’t duck quickly enough. I saw the shadows flow over her face.

What was that all about?

I’m her best friend. Actually, I think we are the only friends we each have, but that doesn’t diminish our love in any manner.

“
Soon, I’m sure.”

I nearly went into shock.

I didn’t need to cast a spell. It was all over Morgan’s body. She’d just lied. To me.

“
Doll?” I immediately loosened my grip on him. Too bad I couldn’t get rid of the one around my heart.

“
Did you know this guy?” Morgan asked as she unfurled the flag.

Duck and Dodge. I could do it. I
’d been doing it for the majority of my life.

“
Yeah.” I cleared my throat. My next words came out without sounding as if I had been recently strangled. “I met him today. He’s . . . He was a client of mine.”

Morgan nodded. Kept her attention focused on the dea
d body. It helped. I couldn’t look her in the eye at the moment. For the first time I didn’t want to know what she was thinking.

“
He’s human.” She scowled at the flag. “Is he Tom Crawford?”

“
The one and the same.”

I firmed my lips. Why would she lie to me?
It didn’t make sense at all. I
know
Morgan. Three years and countless escapades have woven our lives together. I trust her.

But she is a vamp. It
’s hard to know what they are thinking and feeling. The assassin from our last dead body issue had hinted about Morgan’s background being special or different somehow.

I hadn
’t really cared. I still don’t. She’s always accepted me as I am. I could no less.

If something was bothering Morgan enough for her to lie to me about it then I needed to seek that thing out.
And kick it way the heck back to where it came from.

I would not settle for anything else. She
’s the only friend I have ever had.

The band around my chest eased. I could breath again.

Morgan traced one long, pale digit over the T. Her fangs flashed a second before she popped the bloody tip into her mouth.

“
Morgan, we don’t have time for snacking.”

She muttered words too low for me to hear, shot a glance at me out of the corner of her eye, and whatever was on my face must have reassured her. The
muscles in her shoulders relaxed.

We
’d get through this. Whatever it was. We’d get through it.

“
I just wanted to see if politicians taste any different.”

Morgan and I have thrown our fair share of rotten tomatoes at enough political rallies - both democra
tic and republican - for me to know she shares the same view I do of politicians.

Scum sucking dirt bags. Out to lie, cheat and claw their way to the top. They rivaled the worst of the HC. And those sad creatures couldn
’t always help
their
nasty and corrupt ways.

“
Damn. We can’t just bury him somewhere.” Morgan scowled down at the senator.

“
We can’t? Why not?” It had worked rather well the last time.

It would have worked out a lot better if the assassin hadn
’t watched us bury the body he had been sworn to protect. And as he had been the one to actually commit the murder in the first place, forcing us to kill him in order to conceal the first body, leave no witnesses and allow us to continue living, I thought it eventually worked out extremely well. In the end. With us still amongst the living.

“
He’s a senator, Kate. People will notice him missing by the time the elections roll around if not before.”

I simply have not been around enough murder scenes to really  consider all the potential down
falls involved in dumping bodies.

I see a dead body and my mind immediately wants to shut out the sight and situation. I
’d say I would work on it, but frankly, I’d much rather the dead bodies quit showing up on my doorstep.

“
Right. A senator.” I eyed the short wooden flagstaff impaling either side of his neck. “You would think that would be foremost in my mind at the moment.”

Morgan laughed. “
No. I know you better than that, Kate.”

A small stream of warmth invaded my body, flowed through my veins, wound its
way over my muscles and bones and finally settled into the pit of my stomach.

Yeah. We
’d get through this.

10. The Plan.

“
I’ll go grab my supplies.”

“
You brought supplies? What kind of supplies?”

There are supplies for moving bodies? Do they come in kits? Maybe I should get one too.

Morgan didn’t answer. She had already disappeared. Vamps are really fast.

We hadn
’t needed any supplies the last time. Morgan had picked up the body and flown it to the woods. I’d followed on my broom. A shirt trek across a field, one hastily dug grave and sunlight had incinerated the rest of the evidence.

I didn
’t know whether to be horrified or impressed that Morgan had the forethought to bring whatever items might be necessary on the off chance this body was different than the last one.

“
Ya can’t just stuff the body into a garbage bag and cart him out to the dumpster, Doll.” Al
tsked
me. “Number one, he won’t fit into one bag and chopping him up would take too much time and the mess is just not worth the trouble. Number two, the smell will alert someone before they pick up the trash next Friday. We’re gonna have to dump him somewhere far away from here and we’ll need to clean up the blood so we don’t leave any evidence.”

I
’d grabbed my trashcan the moment he’d said
chop.
My stomach tossed about, but I’d already emptied its contents earlier so it settled down in a fairly short time.

“
I’m going to go wash this out. I’ll be back in a minute, Al.”

I dumped my breakfast and l
unch into the toilet bowl. Luckily, I’d taken out my trash the day before and hadn’t needed to use the fuchsia cylinder since. I didn’t have to worry about crumbled papers clogging things up as I flushed. They pick up the trash in this neighborhood every Friday afternoon.

Under the sink I found my disinfectant and paper towels and went to work. The menial job helped.

It disturbed me - feel free to insert a screaming case of the heebie-jeebies here - that my Chihuahua found the task of dismemberment to be
messy
and just
not worth it.

How many times had he done it? Scratch that. I did not want to know. Not a single detail.

I returned the trashcan to its place next to my desk and went outside to join the dead body relocation party going on.

Morgan had laid a b
lue plastic tarp on the ground, outside of the pool of blood. She’d put on plastic gloves and was in the process of wrapping the senator up. The flag had been snapped off and stuck in between two of the buttons on his shirt.

I saw her point, the tip of the
flag could easily penetrate the plastic, create a hole and allow for blood, hair or other traceable bits of evidence to escape.

On the other hand it seemed a touch blasphemous. Especially for a politician. Then again, he
’d already been stabbed through the neck with it. And I’m not fond of politics.

I checked “
how to move the body” off my mental list of Things To Be Concerned About.

Morgan finished her wrap job then used leopard print duck tape to seal the seams. When she was finished it had the odd look
of a large, lumpy, horrible birthday present.

I hadn
’t known duck tape came in leopard print.

All that remained was the dark, dark red stain. I scowled. Each business that backed this alley had a concrete pad the length and
width of a pick up truck outside their back door.

Our dumpsters go on the pads. Since the sanitary company had already been through and removed most of the items guaranteed to leave a stench and the senator had been murdered recently - and at a different l
ocation - the scent of copper was faint. It mixed in with the late summer air, warmed concrete and  faint lingering sweetness of rotted fruit.

Can you get a blood stain out of concrete?

Especially a large one?

It would have been a lot worse if the senator
had been actually killed here. I understood that. But the pillow sized pool continued to look VERY LARGE to me.

“
Ya got some rags?” Al tilted his head at Morgan.

She reached into a cream canvas tote bag I had not noticed. I really don
’t know how I missed it. Large with red handles and her name embroidered in a matching color and elegant font on the side, the tote would have looked more at home on a sailboat than in my alley.

I
’d wondered what had happened to a stack of mail order catalogs I’d been saving. Morgan’s inner suburbanite was showing a little leg. I planned to tease her about it. After we got rid of the body.

“
These ones will be perfect.” She opened a container of bright colored cloths. “They’re microfiber and lint-free.”

Al circled the blood to gi
ve them a sniff. “These are perfect. They’ll soak up any moisture and won’t leave anything behind. Where’d ya get ‘em?”

“
Amazon.com. I bought a whole case.”

I refused to think about why my UDBF would feel the need to purchase an entire case of lint-free cl
oths that were well-suited to crime scene clean-up.

“
Shouldn’t I wear gloves too?”

“
You didn’t touch the body. And the police would expect to find your fingerprints at your office.”

Made sense.

I held out my hand and Morgan tossed one lint-free cloth over to me. She crouched on one side and I took the other.

“
No, Doll, stop.” Al nudged my hand. “Ya need to start from the outside and work your way in. That way you won’t spread the blood and make the stain larger.”

I don
’t argue with logic. Or a former hit man who obviously knows what he is talking about. Even if he is my Chihuahua.

After we
’d absorbed as much of the blood as we could, Morgan pulled out a garbage bag and we disposed of the cloths.

Next she handed me a bucket. “
Would you mind filling this partway with cold water?”

“
Sure.” I stood, stretched my back and turned.

“
Make sure it’s cold water, Kate.”

“
Got it.” I didn’t understand the exact need for cold water, but again I was bowing to their superior knowledge. Although I’m pretty sure I’d read something about cold water and blood on my box of Tide.

It warms my heart to know that Morgan and Tide are in agreement.

Feel free to insert any level of sarcasm along with that sentence. As long as it is a lot of sarcasm.

When I returned with the
cold water, Morgan handed me a sponge. “We’ll wash this the same way. Just make certain you don’t use too much water and you are directly over the bucket when you squeeze out your sponge.”

I could handle that.

I dipped my sponge in the water, carefully squeezed out the excess and began to scrub.

“
Remember. From the outside in, Doll.”

Outside in. Check.

I moved my hand to the edge of the blood and began again. We went through several buckets of water before Morgan and Al pronounced their satisfaction with the now blood free area.

My fingers had turned slightly purple by this time. I poured the clear water into the sink and ran the faucet for several minutes after as per Morgan
’s instructions.  

Just in case anyone decided to take apart my plumbing and disc
overed the blood. I’m sure that would be the first thing a person - either human or non - would think the moment we were introduced.

I always think to myself
“Gee, I oughta take apart their plumbing and see what potential crimes they have been up to,”
the moment I shake someone’s hands.

Again this falls along the lines of sarcasm and ways to distract myself while doing gory chores. Frankly, I thought I was doing pretty damn good.

Morgan was going over the area with a metal bristled brush when I came back outside. Total overkill, in my opinion. I couldn’t see even a hint of pink at this point.

“
Do ya have some peroxide?” Al sat next to Morgan, inspecting her work.

She leaned back on her heels and frowned at him. “
No. I have bleach.”

Al shook his furry head, t
witched his whiskers. “Bleach will leave a different stain and a smell. Peroxide works best on concrete.”

“
I have hydrogen peroxide in with my first aid stuff,” I offered.

“
That’ll work,” Al said.

I went back in. I didn
’t know which was worse, the vast knowledge and frightening thoroughness my UDBF just displayed in regards to getting rid of a blood stain or that my Chihuahua apparently knew more than she did.

****

“Doesn’t he have a campaign office near here?” Morgan asked as she set the tarp wrapped body down in my office.

I shut the door before answering. Now I could check potential witnesses off my Concerned list.

“There’s one in Virtue.” The next town over, about ten miles away. I’d read it in the paper. That had been big and surprising news in our small town neck of the woods.

Another smooth political maneuver in marketing the senator
’s regular guy image.

“
Why?” I almost cringed as I said it. Morgan has a complex and devious mind. That in conjunction with a crime scene opened up a host of ghoulish possibilities.

“
I think we should dump his body there.”

I didn
’t think we should go anywhere near a place connected with the dead body.

“
Good plan,” Al grunted. “Looks like a political killing to me. Dumpin’ his body at one of his campaign offices should put a crimp in their plan.” 

“
Whose plan?”

“
The ones tryin’ to set ya up, Doll.” Al nudged my ankle as if to say
try to keep up please.
 

Right. The people behind the set up. Actually, any crimp in their sche
me worked exceedingly well for me.

“
The office should be closed right now too,” I said, pleased to join in the plan. “The senator is speaking tonight,” I eyed the blue tarp and duck tape, “
was supposed
to give a speech tonight at the VFW in Virtue. He’d invited everyone from the office to join him.”

There are obviously more benefits to reading the paper than keeping up on local news.

“Perfect.” Morgan shouldered the body. “You follow on your broom.”

“
What about Al? I don’t have an extra carrier here.” And no way was I leaving him alone. He’s a very small Chihuahua.

“
I can ride on the body.”

The plastic was shiny which meant slippery. Horror shivered its way through me at the thought of him falling off. Before I could voice my concerns and insult his ego, Mo
rgan flipped the body from her shoulder to cradle it in her arms.

She crouched and Al jumped onto the tarp wrapped dead body. Willingly. That dog does love a murder. Especially one he can be involved in.

“All right. I’ll meet you there.” I opened the back door, Morgan flew off with Al. I locked the front door, grabbed my plain yellow back-up broom out of the closet, locked the back door behind me and took off after them.

My back-up broom totally rocks in terms of speed and agility. It sucks in looks.

The price had been out of my comfort zone, but it’s come in handy too many times for me to complain. And Morgan and I had tomato-ed the car belonging to the retail clerk I’d bought it from. That little witch had been a few years behind me in school and never liked me. Hopefully she’ll reconsider overcharging me in the future.

If not, Aunt Tabs always has tomatoes in her garden.

I caught up with Morgan and Al about halfway there.

She wasn
’t flying slow enough for me and my worry over my Chihuahua. Judging by Al’s big doggy grin she could go as fast as she wanted.

The senator
’s campaign office also butted up against an alley, so we set down there.

I leaned my broom against a brick wall, Morgan smashed the glass window of the back door with her elbow.

Immediately a shrill alarm pierced the evening air.

“
Shit!” I looked around the empty alley frantically.

“
Don’t worry. We’ll be long gone before the police arrive. Open the door would you?”

Morgan moved to one side and I reached through the gaping hole to pat arou
nd for the doorknob. I felt the lock for a deadbolt right above the doorknob, unlocked it and turned the metal knob. The door swung inwards.