Kiss of Death (28 page)

“You mentioned your group sometimes holds meetings at Temescal Gateway Park and Topanga State Park.”

He hesitates. “Yes.”

“For the record—” Sloan looks at the recording equipment “—when was the last time you were there, Mr. Ward?”

Teresa told Sloan it was over a month ago for an initiation, and in his original statement that's what Ward said, too.

Ward glances up at the video camera and clears his throat. “Saturday night.”

Sloan stares at him, unblinking. “So you lied?”

A deep breath from Ward. “Stupid, I know. You arrived on my doorstep talking about murder, and I knew you'd already been to question Walter and Larry about Temescal Gateway Park. I was concerned we'd be persecuted because of our vampirism. That maybe you wouldn't accept the coincidence of us being there the same night your victim was killed.”

“Coincidence is one word for it,” Sloan says through gritted teeth.

Ward continues, unperturbed. “I did lie and regretted it almost immediately. As soon as you left the house I realized it was a mistake. But it seemed to spiral out of control so quickly. I should never have omitted our presence in the park that night, but we had nothing to do with that girl's death and none of us saw her. And I'm coming clean now.” He glances at the camera.

It was one thing to lie in person when caught off guard, but he doesn't want a video record of it.

“So you instructed your members to lie to us?” Sloan raises her voice and leans in aggressively.

“Yes,” Ward says simply.

“Why were you there?” Sloan's voice is icy.

“A blood ritual for one of our members. She was sick.”

“And what time was this?”

“We arrived around midnight, I guess.”

“What did this blood ritual involve? A sacrifice, perhaps?”

My cell rings, but I ignore it. No way am I missing out on this part of the interview.

“No! We'd never…I'd never…” He takes a breath, composing himself. “Sam, our sick member, stood in the center of our circle and drank a vial of our donors' blood. Then I fed off the group and channeled that energy into her.”

Sloan raises an eyebrow. “Sounds crazy to me.”

Ward shrugs. “It would to you.”

Sloan eyeballs Ward in silence for about a minute before she says, “We're done, Mr. Ward. But don't even think about leaving the city. And I suggest you contact that lawyer of yours. You'll be hearing from us soon.” Sloan stands up. “I'll have a patrol car take you home.”

Ward rises, too. “That's not necessary. I'll organize a car.” Guess Ward doesn't want to arrive at his Los Feliz mansion in an LAPD car.

While Sloan and Carey are clearing the room and officially signing off on the videotape, I check my voice mail. The missed call was from Harry in computers. Turns out Sherry did make a repeat appearance at Bar Sinister the night she died. She arrived at 1:23 a.m. and then left five minutes later, by herself. According to Harry, the entrance camera picked her up, but she never came all the way into the nightclub. Maybe she collected a coat from the cloakroom at the bottom of the steps, or maybe she met someone on her way up. Either way, she left by herself…but maybe someone followed her. Or maybe she'd arranged a meeting somewhere else.

Tuesday, 8:00 p.m.

I
finally walk into my apartment just after 8:00 p.m., with takeout Mexican. Darren's sitting on the couch reading—in fact, it barely looks like he's moved in the past thirteen hours. I called him soon after we found the second body to let him know of the latest development but assured him I would be home for dinner, no matter what.

“Mexican…” Darren loves Mexican, so maybe it will serve as my peace offering.

“I'm starved.” He closes his book and stands up.

While I try to gauge if I'm in the bad books, I also notice the bookmark toward the back of his novel. “Looks like you've almost finished.”

“And I'm no speed reader, either.”

He says it warmly, but I don't need my psychic talents to see what he's getting at.

“So, how's the case going?” He finally comes over and plants a kiss on my cheek before getting out two plates.

“We've ID'd the second body.”

“That was quick.”

I nod. “Her prints were in the system.”

He cuts the bean burrito in half and dishes it out, while I put the chicken fajitas on the dining table.

He looks up from the burritos. “It's a very short time frame between murders.”

“I know.” The short cycle doesn't bode well for the future. “And at the crime scene I had a vision of another murder. A girl with shoulder-length black hair. I looked for her in the missing persons database, but no matches.”

Darren furrows his brow. “And you're here?”

“Ha, ha. It is your last night.”

He puts his arms around either side of me before snuggling into my neck. “Ah, honey. You are trying.”

I lean back into him. “I am.”

“Let's talk about the case over dinner and bounce a few ideas around, huh? And then you can tap into your powers.” He taps his head.

“Thanks, Darren.”

I feel at home in his arms and the thought of losing him makes my stomach turn. My obsession with the case has been hard on him this visit, but it looks like all I needed to do was show him he was high on my priorities, too.

Once we're sitting at the table, I take Darren through the case step by step, starting with the discovery of Sherry Taylor's body, our problems with cause of death, the fact that her ex-boyfriend had sex with her around midnight the night she disappeared and the verification of that with DNA. By the time I've given him the rundown, we've both finished our burritos and are more than halfway through the fajitas.

“Detective Sloan was hell-bent on the ex-boyfriend or Sherry's professor, who she was having an affair with.”

“Her professor?”

“Yeah. And the professor's married but has an open relationship, so he's had lots of partners in the past year.”

“All possible jealous ex-girlfriends. Not to mention the wife.”

“Uh-huh. And we've got a jealous best friend who also had a fling with the professor.”

Darren winces. “No wonder Sloan liked someone from that group for the deed.” He looks at me, taking the last mouthful of his chicken fajita. “But you never did.”

I shake my head. “Not really, no. Although for a little while I did have my doubts about the best friend. Except, the night Sherry was killed I had a dream, a nightmare. I was running from multiple attackers and saw fangs and stubble of a male's face. Plus we have someone who witnessed multiple lights in the park that coincided with the vic's time of death.”

“And that didn't convince Sloan?”

“No. The guy was drunk. Unreliable.”

Darren nods his head several times. “I see.”

“If it's a sacrifice, I would have thought it more likely our perps would use the same location, the same sacred spot. But the fact that our two bodies are in different sites makes me think either the locations are about convenience or there's some pattern, some significant relationship between the two areas.”

“The middle of a state park is hardly convenient.”

“No. Which makes the pattern scenario more likely.”

Once I've taken my last mouthful, I grab the map from my briefcase. While I'm opening it, Darren takes the plates into the kitchen.

He leans over the table, staring at the map. “With only two points, you won't be able to see a pattern.”

“I know.” But I still find myself drawn to the map. “I've hardly had time to look at it since I marked in the girls' murder sites.” I thought I was going to have to wait until Darren went to bed to work on the map, but now I can finally focus on it properly.

“Did you come across any symbols that are related to vampirism?”

When I did my initial online research, nothing specific symbolized vampires. The ankh, like the choker I bought, symbolizes eternal life, but that was the closest I found. And Ward's pentagram.

“Shit. After Dark uses a pentagram as its logo.” I shake my head. “The members are even tattooed with it. The two girls could be points of the pentagram.” Grabbing my BlackBerry, I search online for pentagrams and navigate to Wikipedia and a clear diagram of a pentagram. I overlay it in my mind's eye on the map, trying to think through all the different combinations.

Sherry's body was found about a mile south and half a mile west of the vic we found today. If the bodies were closer to one another on a vertical line, then we could have the two right points of the pentagram, or maybe the two left points. But I'd say Sherry's body is too far west for a match.

I blow out a sigh of disappointment. “It doesn't quite work.” I point to the spot on the map where Sherry's body was found. “It should only be a little to the left of today's vic, but I think it's too far to the left—unless it's an incredibly asymmetrical pentagram.”

“Which is unlikely?”

“If our killers are going to the effort of sacrificing these women in symbolic locations, they'd make sure the spots were correct. The terrain may give us a little variation, but not this much.” I let out another sigh,
frustrated by the fact that a potential lead has been snatched away.

My BlackBerry beeps with an e-mail and I scan it. Damien Winters has sent me a message on Facebook.
What you up to? I got out of my thing tonight if you want to catch up.

I look up at Darren.

“What?”

“I just got a message from Damien Winters.”

“He's one of your vamps, right?”

“Uh-huh. And he wants to meet tonight.” I bite my lip. I want to hang out here with Darren, but I can't help thinking about the girl from my vision today. We've had two bodies in three days, but what if there are more hidden in the woods? Maybe the girl from my vision is next, tonight even.

“And you want to meet him?” Darren lets out a long sigh, but I can see this time he understands. “It is different now, honey. Now that you've got a second body and within such a short time frame.”

I nod. “And there's the girl from my vision.” I take a hold of his hand. “There's nothing I'd like more than to spend the rest of the evening with you, but what if our killers are planning another sacrifice tonight?”

He pulls my hand up and kisses it. “Go meet him and see what you think. Maybe we'll have time for a movie when you get back.”

I log on to Facebook and, sure enough, Winters is online. I open up a chat window.

LadyVeronica:
Hi there. Got your message. Yup, I'm free.

Winters1:
Tonight it is. Let's meet at Café Muse. It's on Santa Monica Boulevard in WestHo. Know it?
LadyVeronica:
No, but I'll find it. Can't wait to meet you in the flesh.

Winters1:
Me too. An hour?

LadyVeronica:
Sure.

 

“I've got an hour to get dressed and over to WestHo.”

“Looks like I'm going to finish my book tonight.” Darren smiles.

“I'm sorry.” I move in closer and reach up for a kiss.

After a few seconds Darren pulls away. “Don't start something you can't finish.” He gives me a wicked grin.

“I could be a few minutes late.”

“Reduced to a quickie?”

I pull him in closer again. “It's better than nothing, right?”

“True.”

 

In the end I am running ten minutes late, and once I'm parked I power walk the couple of blocks to the café. Tonight I've chosen a more low-key look, given I'm meeting Winters at a café, not in one of the Goth clubs. So while I have gone for my pale foundation and powder, I've toned down the eyes and lipstick. I'm wearing the leather pants with a plain black V-neck and my wig, partly because I need to look Goth and partly because it's the single most important element in the outfit that makes me
not
look like Sophie Anderson.

The café he's chosen looks like it's coffee and sandwiches during the day, and a bar with snacks once five or six hits. It's furnished with comfy couches arranged around low round tables and there's a tiny stage in one corner. A few signs around the place also advertise poetry-reading nights so I imagine the budding young artists stand on the small stage to bare their souls to the
world. Tonight, however, it seems we won't be privy to any entertainment.

Looking at the patrons, I soon spot Winters sitting at a table in the corner. Like me, his look is understated, but I don't know if that reflects his normal Goth look or if he's chosen his outfit to suit the time and venue. He's wearing black jeans, a dark red top with designer tears, and a full-length leather jacket hangs over his chair. He also wears several silver chains around his neck, and black eyeliner highlights his intense, dark green eyes. It's his eyes that look somehow dark, rather than the clothes. His hair is short and he has a very pronounced brow.

He smiles at me as I approach the table. “Veronica. Hi.”

I smile. “Hi.” I slip into my American accent.

“You look gorgeous.” His eyes travel up and down me. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure. I'll have…” I hesitate. Even though we said coffee, I get the distinct feeling it's gone past this café's coffee hours.

“I'm having a beer,” he says.

I smile. “That sounds fine.”

A couple of minutes later he returns with two beers.

“Well, welcome to L.A.” He holds his drink up and we chink bottles.

“Thanks.” I take a sip and lean against the wall a little. “It's so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He leans forward. “I did notice you didn't have many friends on MySpace and Facebook and thought we should do something about that.”

I laugh. “Like I said, I'm new to L.A. And new on Facebook and MySpace, too.”

“I'll help you fit right in.” He pauses. “I noticed you're friends with Anton Ward. Ever met him?”

I take a small clump of my fake hair and twirl it around my finger. “I have, actually. I met him at Malediction
Society on Sunday night and was at his place last night for a party.”

“His place? Really? He doesn't normally invite a newcomer to his house.” He takes another swig of beer. “But I can see why he'd make an exception for you. I bet he
loved
you.”

“Really?” I act disinterested.

“Well, in case no one ever told you, Veronica, you've got one wicked energy going on there.”

I shrug. “What do you mean?”

“Your energy is overflowing this room…you don't know this?” He seems genuinely surprised.

Just like Ward and Teresa, Winters is somehow picking up on my gift. More evidence that this whole vampire notion isn't a total fraud.

“No, I don't.” I recline in the chair, again feigning disinterest.

“For someone like me…” He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “It's intoxicating. I could see it and feel it on Sunday night, too.”

“You're a psi-vamp, like Anton?”

“Uh-huh. We both feed on energy…and blood as well.”

I give him a flirtatious smile. “I see.”

“What about you? I'm presuming you're a psi-vamp, too, from that intense energy of yours.”

“Yes.” Saying I'm a psi-vamp ensures I won't have to drink blood, no matter how long I keep up my Lady Veronica persona.

He takes another gulp of his beer. “Anyway, you might want to stay away from Anton and his group.”

“Really? Why?”

“They're bad news. I used to be part of it, but the guy's a control freak. And his members…losers who can't think for themselves.”

“Oh…I thought they seemed kinda nice.” I smile
innocently, hoping I'm capturing the right level of interest and confusion.

He shakes his head. “Like I said, you'd better stay away from them. They've even got the cops on their tail at the moment.”

“Oh my goodness. What for? What have they done?”

“Killed a girl.”

I take in a quick breath. At this stage Ward and After Dark are merely being investigated, but Damien Winters has either jumped to the conclusion that they're guilty or he's using the investigation to maneuver me away from Ward.