Authors: Catherine Winchester
“
Only the really pretty ones.” He could joke too. If she needed distance he had no choice but to give it to her, lest he risk losing her.
Frankie smiled and touched her fingers to her neck where two raised lumps told her he’d been there. “Why didn’t it hurt?”
“
Have you ever heard of the miracle fruit?”
Frankie’s forehead creased, wondering where this tangent was leading. “Uh, an African berry, right? After you eat it, it alters your taste buds and makes lemons taste sweet?”
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Yes. Our saliva works in a similar way. It numbs the area slightly and turns pain signals into pleasurable ones.”
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You could market that.”
Alex laughed and kissed the top of her head.
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Will it leave marks?” she asked.
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No. You may have two raised bumps for a day but there will be no scarring.”
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Magic saliva again?” Her voice was growing thick with fatigue.
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Something like that.”
Sated and tired, Frankie was growing sleepy. Alex could see her eyelids drooping as she fought sleep. He kissed the top of her head and told her, “Sleep, lover. We have plenty of time for your questions another night.”
As Frankie drifted off to sleep, her head resting on his shoulder and her breath fanning over his chest, Alex realised he was in big trouble. He cared about the women who shared his bed, of course, but they weren’t special. Friends with benefits seemed to be the modern vernacular for his relationships. He liked them, but he didn’t love them. He didn’t lie to them but neither did he trust them with what he was. With Frankie however, his feelings were far from casual. He cared deeply for her and already trusted her. It was inexplicable really, given how short a time they had known each other but he had realised long ago that love wasn’t logical. He was falling in love.
Falling in love with a woman who would never fully commit to him. He couldn’t blame her, she had lived her life being ridiculed and scorned, with parents who didn’t believe her and she had built high walls around her to protect herself. He guessed that he hadn't even begun to discover the emotional scars she bore.
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Alex, you are an idiot,” he quietly told the darkened room, “falling in love at your age. You romantic old fool.”
He could sense morning was coming, feel the tingle begin in his bones, warning him to find shelter for the day. He wanted to stay but Frankie’s curtains didn’t look thick enough to block the sunlight, so he had to leave even knowing she would be hurt when she woke up alone. He had no choice and once again found himself cursing what he was. He'd known her only two days and she was already driving him crazy.
He carefully detangled himself from her, sorry that he wouldn’t be there to see her wake up. He checked her neck to make sure it was healed, kissed her forehead and left.
Frankie awoke to find her bed empty. Her heart sank and she closed her eyes, kicking herself for expecting anything else. After a thorough talking to, she opened her eyes and this time saw the red rose on the pillow beside her. Under it was a note in rather illegible script. She smiled to herself, she would have expected him to have elegant handwriting, like something from the Edwardian era. It took a few moments but she was able to decipher the note.
Frankie, I’m sorry I had to leave but your house isn’t light proof and that is one of the vampire myths I cannot ignore. Please believe me, I wouldn’t have left if I had a choice. If there is a next time I hope you will consider coming to my home.
I don’t think I will be much use to your investigation during daylight hours but I should be awake from noon. Please call me if I can be of any assistance. Or to tell me how wonderful last night was and that I’ve now spoilt you for all other men.
Fondest regards,
Alex
P.S. Your car is outside and your keys are on the hall table.
Frankie smiled. A note filled with flowery prose would have probably scared her but the gesture of returning her car was more than enough to show he cared.
Her smile faltered as she wondered how he had left the house without the alarm code. She pulled on her dressing gown and headed downstairs to the alarm system. It was fully armed, not only had he deactivated it to get out, he had reactivated it before leaving.
She definitely needed a new alarm. A vampire proof alarm. She didn’t want to keep Alex out but a vampire was now prime suspect in these murders and that vampire she definitely wanted to keep out.
She went back upstairs to shower and change then logged onto her computer. The profilers report was waiting for her and she printed off a copy and forwarded the email on to Will. She knew she should call him, warning that the bad guy was more lethal than any of them had guessed, but she couldn’t. How did you convince a cynic to take you seriously when you told him that he was hunting a vampire?
Well, when she had a plan she’d tell him, for now it was better to keep him in the dark.
She searched the MI5 computer for Brad’s school records and while she waited for those she read the profile. Pretty standard stuff, nothing she hadn't figured out herself and a few things she’d discovered were missed. Well, to be fair the observations about how powerful the killer was had been Alex’s.
The profile was pretty much useless if Bradley James was their man. Or vampire.
Closing her eyes she leaned back and reviewed the case in her mind.
Was Bradley the killer? There was only circumstantial proof so while Frankie was 90% sure he was their man, she still had to keep an open mind.
If he was the killer, why didn’t he leave a psychic impression? Because he was a vampire. How and when did that happen? Was there a record of that sort of stuff? Could his sire be found? If so, would he or she help them to stop Bradley? There were a lot of questions only Alex could answer.
So far the lists database hadn't kicked out anything other than a useless newspaper article. Ten year old Bradley had come third in a school swimming gala.
She wondered if Alex kept any sort of list of clients. Not all of them, obviously, but businesses often collected names and addresses for promotions. Perhaps Bradley had slipped up and given his personal information for a 10% discount. Long shot but it was worth asking.
She made a list of everything she needed to ask Alex then put the notepad in her bag along with her police ID. Whilst it was a fake ID in that she wasn’t a police officer, it would pass any test because it was authentic. Just then her phone rang and she sighed when she saw it was Will.
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Hey Will.”
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Frankie, thanks for the profile.”
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Anytime.”
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What are your plans for today?”
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I have a new case; I’m going to have to back off helping you for a while.”
Will was silent for a long moment. “Cut the crap, Frankie.”
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What?”
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You always were a terrible liar. There’s something going on here that you aren’t telling me.”
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Did you consider that if in fact I am hiding something from you that there’s a reason I can’t tell you?”
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National security, nice cover-all, that one.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.
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Will, I’ve given you a name, that’s all I can do. I’m sure you’ve run that name yourself and you know I’m not lying about there being no trace of him. It’s a race to the finish now.”
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Yeah. And if we catch him, you’ll take him from us.”
Frankie rubbed the bridge of her nose. “No, Will. If you get to him first, he’ll kill you.”
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How can you be sure he won’t kill you?”
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I can’t, but I have an idea of what I’m dealing with. I…” if she’d had the slightest conviction that he would believe her, she might have told him the truth but he wouldn’t. Telling him would only serve to upset him and he was a very good detective unless he was upset. “If I could tell you, I would.”
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Strangely enough, I believe you. Frankie, you need to let me help you; if this situation is so dangerous you need all the help you can get.”
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I have help, Will. Someone who knows how to handle… things.”
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Who?”
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I can’t tell you that. Please, just trust me on this.”
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Well, it’s been really enlightening talking to you, Frankie. Thank you for all your help.” He hung up.
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Sarcastic bastard,” she muttered. She stashed her phone in her bag then grabbed some breakfast before heading out. She smiled when she saw that her car was parked on her driveway, where it usually sat. At least not everyone hated her.
Will watched from his car as she reversed out of her driveway and headed off. He followed.
He’d always been able to tell when she was lying to him, after all she’d spent most of their relationship hiding something. But this wasn’t personal any more, it was professional, and he was damn well going to find out what was going on before any more women died.
She drove to Blackhall Comprehensive School and pulled into the staff car park. Will pulled up across the street so he could watch her through the bars. His mobile rang and he pulled it from his pocket without looking at it in case he missed where Frankie went.
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Campbell.”
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You’re good, Campbell, but I’m better.”
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What are you talking about Frankie?”
He saw her get out of her car and turn to wave at him. “Do you want to wait out here or are you coming in with me?”
Will slammed his phone closed. He considered staying in the car for a second but knew he’d learn more if he was with her. By the time he caught up she was almost inside.
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What are we doing here?” he asked, falling into step beside her.
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Well you were following me and I came here to talk to some of Bradley’s old teachers. See if he had any friends.”
Will admitted to himself that it was actually a good place to start. As they approached the front office he reached into his jacket for his ID but Frankie put her hand on his arm.
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Sorry, this is my gig.” She held up her DCI police I.D.
Will didn’t look happy so she knocked on the office screen before he could say anything. A middle aged, mousy woman opened the screen a moment later.
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Can I help you?” she asked.
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I’m DCI Wright, this is DCI Campbell, we’d like to speak to your headmaster about an old pupil, if possible.”
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Of course, I’ll just check if he’s free.”
Moments later they were ushered into the headmaster, Peter Barron’s office. It was a basic affair, badly in need of a paint job, new filing cabinets, or at least more, and the seats which had once been rather plush fabric were worn thin. The headmaster himself looked much the same as his office, his hair was slightly too long, his suit a little too worn and he looked in need of a good night’s sleep.
After refusing tea, coffee, biscuits, juice and fruit, they finally got down to business.
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Mr. Barron,” Frankie began, “I’m wondering if you remember a pupil named Bradley James. He would have been at the school approximately ten years ago.”
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The name rings a bell. Do you have a picture?” He asked Will, although Frankie had been the one asking the question.
Frankie handed over the sketch she’d done. “That’s a recent likeness.”
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Yes I see. He does… Brad… BJ! Yes, he was always trying to get people to call him BJ. Of course kids being what they are, no one ever did, as far as I know, but I remember he began to refuse to answer to Bradley. Odd sort.” He handed the sketch back but his eyes never got higher than Frankie’s chest. “What has he done?”
Frankie wished her breasts could answer for her since he was clearly speaking to them. “We can’t discuss that. Do you happen to remember if he had any friends here?”
The headmaster shook his head. “No. I remember him being a bit of a loner but I wasn’t his form teacher. I believe…” he thought for a moment. “Liz Garrett, yes she was his teacher for the last two years, she might recall better than I.”
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You have a good memory,” Frankie noted.
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Not really. His year achieved our worst ever GCSE results. It was because of that, that I even got this job.”
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Where can we find Liz Garret now?” Will spoke up.
Peter looked pleased to be able to address another man. “She retired two years ago when her husband got sick. I’m sure we can give you her address though.” He went to the row of filing cabinets and began looking through the middle drawer. He returned a moment later with a file. “Except, um, is it legal for he to give a staff member's address out? I won’t get into trouble?”
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No.” Will took the file that had clearly been handed to him and memorised the address. He could see Frankie building up a full head of steam. He handed the file back. “You might want to be aware though, Mr Barron, that discrimination is illegal. Not only have you not looked higher than Detective Chief Inspector Wright’s chest, you have addressed all your answers to me only, despite my colleague being the one actually asking the questions.”