Kiss of Death (22 page)

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Authors: P.D. Martin

BOOK: Kiss of Death
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“Hold on.” His hand comes up in a stop signal. “That's not what we're about at all. I don't condone violence in my group or within the vampire community.” Ward's getting worked up. “We're not animals, driven by our natures…we're a superior evolutionary form of life. Humans are our food, yes, but we do not need to harm them in any way or to take from those who are unwilling. And if your donor is not meeting your needs I will help you find more donors to ensure you relieve the thirst.”

I put my head down. “Thank you, Anton. I wish…wish I could be part of After Dark. But I've heard people talking…I know how hard it is to get in.” I slump my body over slightly. “I just wish I was part of your house.”

“You have something special, Veronica.” He lifts my chin up with his forefinger. “I can see that and I will bring you into the fold. But you must have patience.”

“Really?” I can barely contain my eagerness—or so I want Ward to think. “That's…oh my god that's so exciting. I'm really in? You really want me?”

“Of course I want you, Veronica.” His gaze travels down my body, and he somehow manages to pull it off as an appreciative desire. “But for now I want it to be our little secret. And like I said, it will take time. We have procedures and I can't let my other members feel that I'm bending the rules for you.”

I nod. “I understand.”

He leans farther forward and I freeze. There's a small part of me that wants to close the gap between us and kiss Ward, feel his mouth against mine. But it's…it's not real, not like what Darren and I have or could have. I move back.

“I'm sorry.” I take a large gulp of my gin and tonic, thinking of a believable excuse. “I haven't told you everything.”

“Yes?”

“There's another reason I left North Carolina.” I look up into his eyes. “I was seeing this guy and things got…ugly.” I wipe a fake tear away. “I'm just not ready.”

“That's okay, my darling. You will be.” He smiles and looks at me adoringly. “You are incredibly strong to be a vampire and yet still control your sexual desires.” He strokes my jaw. “I can't wait to get to know you better, Veronica. You truly are a wonder.”

 

I get the taxi to drop me off at a fake address, and within a couple of minutes Sloan and the FBI techs turn up. I jump into the back of the van, followed closely by Sloan, who parked behind the van.

“Well, that was interesting.” Sloan sits down opposite me, leaving enough space for the techs to help unwire me. Carey joins us a few seconds later.

“Tell me about it.” I roll my eyes. “There are loads of gray areas, but I've decided for all intents and purposes, After Dark is a new religious movement. But it's not a destructive one and I don't think Ward was involved in Sherry's murder.”

“Go on.”

“Did you hear his reaction when I was talking about hurting people to drink their blood? And he was very reactionary to the mention of violence.”

“True.” She pauses. “Have you changed your mind about the perpetrators then? The profile?”

I shake my head. “No. I still think it's someone from the vampire community, just not Ward.” I take out the earpiece and put it back in the padded container the tech holds out for me.

Sloan's silent for a bit. “What's it with you and these guys and your spiritual energy?” She says the last part in an overly dramatic tone, like she's hosting an exposé on horror.

“It's a tactic to make me feel special.” I shrug. “Or maybe they're delusional. But I'm happy to play along if it gets us further in this investigation.” I flick the ring on my little finger then stop myself from fidgeting.

She nods. “True.”

Ward's ability to see my talent is both disturbing and comforting. Every day I have to hide it and cover my tracks, just like now. I feel so different from everybody else, but there's only one person in the world who knows—Darren. Yet Anton and Teresa can see it, feel it. That recognition is appealing, almost like a sense of solidarity.

I slip my hands up under my dress and ease off the tape, before handing the microphone back.

“My wife is gonna kill me.” Carey glances at his watch.

Sloan yawns. “I know what you mean. It's definitely time for me to hit the sack.”

I'm tired, too, but I'm also looking forward to getting home to Darren. Tonight Ward wanted to kiss me, but Darren's the man I want to be with—and only Darren. “These late nights are getting to me.”

Sloan smiles. “Wait till you're fifty.”

 

Just like last night, Darren is waiting for me on the couch. Tonight he's watching a DVD, which he pauses once I'm inside.

“I'm sorry, honey.” I dump my things and lean down for a kiss.

“I got a movie.”

The reception isn't exactly icy, but it's damn close.

“I'm really, really sorry.”

He sighs. “So how'd it go?”

“Weird…again.” I move toward the bathroom. “I'm just going to take my makeup off.”

I'm hoping Darren will follow me in so we can talk, but instead he presses Play on the DVD.

Shit…three nights together and I've blown two. I remove my makeup as quickly as possible and head back into the living room. He's watching
Blade Runner
.

“It's nearly over.”

I nod, and we watch the last five minutes of the movie in silence. Once it's finished he switches off the TV.

“So it was weird?” He picks up the conversation where we left off. “The energy thing again?”

“Uh-huh. Plus I had a vision when I was with one of the girls and she said it was like watching a light show.”

Darren rubs his stubble. “Really?”

I blow out air. “What can they see that I can't?”

He shrugs. “Who knows. And what does it matter if they can sense your psychic side?”

“What does it matter?” I'm both annoyed and confused by Darren's blasé attitude. “They seem to know more about my gift than I do. Anton just takes one look at me and talks about my energy. And he said I looked and felt different after my vision, too.”

“Anton?”

“Anton Ward. The leader of After Dark.”

“I know who you're talking about. It's just that I've never heard you use a suspect's first name.”

“He's not a real suspect.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“So now you're questioning my professional expertise?”

He holds his hands up. “I never said that.”

“Or perhaps you're jealous.” I can feel my voice rising. “Jealous that Anton can see,
feel,
something about me that you can't.”

He shakes his head. “I'm just trying to help and you're jumping down my throat. Why are you being so defensive?” He stands up, jaw tightening. “You're too close, Soph. Admit it.”

“I'm different and Anton Ward can see it.”

“Listen to you…” He shoots his arms out for emphasis.

I roll my eyes. “You know that's not what I meant.”

He digs his hands into his pockets and shrugs.

I stand up. “I'm not
proud
of the fact I'm different, and you of all people should know how I've struggled with what I see and feel.”

“And that's why you're attracted to these people?”

“I'm intrigued by them. Maybe they can give me more insight into my own abilities and how I can use them.”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “A new religious movement of vampires? You gotta be kidding me.”

“I can't believe you…you've always been so…supportive of this part of my life.”

He moves closer, hands on hips. “Well, maybe I'm sick of being on the sidelines, just here to support you when you need me.”

It's like a slap in the face. I don't treat Darren like that, do I? “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Actually, no, I don't.” His words are slow and clipped. “And clearly you'd rather spend time on a case than with me.” He turns away and walks toward the balcony, gazing out the window.

“That's not true.” I follow him.

Another sarcastic laugh. “Isn't it?” He turns around
to face me again. “From where I'm sitting, it sure looks that way.” He storms past me and makes for the bedroom. When I get there, he's gathering up clothes into his overnight bag and it hits me like a hard punch.

“So you're leaving now?” I let out a snort. “Why do men always want to run away from a conversation?”

“So now it's about men, not about us?”

Damn him.

A sense of panic rises from the pit of my stomach, quashing my anger. I sink onto the bed. “Just stay, Darren. We've still got tomorrow night.”

He looks at me for a few seconds before sitting down next to me, but not close.

“You're…bewitched by this Ward character. Admit it.”

“I'm not bewitched,” I say, even though it's quite an accurate description. But tonight I chose Darren. I take a deep breath. Now's not the time to tell him I was even momentarily tempted to kiss Anton Ward, that's for sure.

I thought I'd come to terms with my gift, and accepted that the visions don't always make sense. And I
had
accepted that. But now…meeting Anton and Teresa is bringing up questions again. All I want to do is sit down and talk to them about exactly what they can see and feel. Is that so wrong?
Am
I too close?

Fourteen

Tuesday, 7:00 a.m.

A
lthough I canceled my gym workout with Mercedes, I still set the alarm to get some exercise in. Besides, I doubt Darren will want to cuddle, or do anything else this morning. At least we slept under the same roof and in the same bed last night—albeit on opposite sides. It took me a while to take the leap of faith into a relationship with Darren and last night's argument makes me realize how hopeless I am at them. When I'm at work I know exactly what my goal is—find the bad guy and put him away. And I generally know how to make it happen. But relationships? I barely know what I want, let alone how to get it.

After a quick Pilates workout on my living room floor, I start up my laptop to pull together all my materials on the types of people more likely to be attracted to a new religious movement. Now that I've decided After Dark is an NRM, I think it'd be useful to go over a few key traits of people attracted to a cult. Given my money's on a group of vampires killing Sherry, it'll also give me an insight into the types of people involved in her murder—the followers.

I'm nearly finished the bullet-point list when Darren emerges, raking his fingers through tousled hair.

“Hi.”

“Morning.” I save my document and close my laptop. I need to show Darren that he is a priority in my life…that I can switch off from work sometimes.

Silence.

“You sleep okay?” I ask, unable to come up with anything better to say.

Silence again, then he laughs.

“I know.” I look down at the table. “It was a stupid thing to say.”

He smiles. “My girlfriend is crazy.”

I still get a thrill from hearing the word “girlfriend” come out of Darren's mouth. You'd think I was sixteen. But today it means even more to me.

“I'm crap at relationships,” I say. “Sorry.”

“I'm not so hot, either. I am thirty-six and unmarried, after all. And our jobs don't make it any easier.” Law-enforcement personnel are notorious for relationship breakups.

Silence again, but this time it's a much more comfortable one.

“Breakfast?” I stand up.

“Sure. How about eggs?”

“Yup.”

While Darren starts on the toast, I get out a nonstick pan and four eggs. We have the egg routine down pat, I do four eggs over easy, and he does one piece of toast for me and two for himself.

Within less than five minutes we're sitting down to breakfast.

“So what's on the agenda today?”

I'm hesitant to talk about the case after last night, but Darren has asked the question.

“First up I'm going to brief the LAPD detectives
working the case on what kinds of people might be attracted to a new religious movement. Then the offender profile and maybe some more online work as Veronica.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It is. But I'd rather be spending the day with you.” It sounds a little cheesy, but it is the truth. I don't want to blow what Darren and I have over a case, and the case could wait until tomorrow. “What are you up to today?”

He smiles. “Coffee, reading, lunch, a movie, coffee, reading.” The grin widens.

I grimace. “That sounds like heaven.”

After we've finished breakfast, I open up my laptop and quickly print off the list I just made. I pass it to Darren before jumping into the shower. “Tell me what you think. If you'd find it useful as a cop.”

“Sure.”

I leave Darren to read while I get ready for work.

Members of NRMs

  • Both males and females, however polygamous groups typically have more women than men.
  • Ages range from fifteen to sixty, plus younger children if their parents are members.
  • All races.
  • Younger members are more likely to come from higher socioeconomic backgrounds.
  • Sense of not belonging during childhood and adulthood—the NRM provides this sense of being part of a group.
  • Adolescents who are attracted to cults often display the following characteristics: identity confusion or crisis; alienation from family; weak ties with their old/existing family, culture, religion and community; feelings of powerlessness; a recent psychological
    stressor; an abusive childhood; low self-esteem; and social anxiety.
  • Above characteristics are also common in many of the adult recruits.
  • No more likely to have a mental illness than the rest of the population.

Notes on the Goth and vampire community

  • Strong sense of community. For example, studies have revealed that if a Goth sees another Goth walking down the street, there's a sense of solidarity and community between even unfamiliar subculture members.
  • A sense of isolation from others.
  • Attraction to vampirism could be because of a strong desire to control someone (they have complete control over the victim as they drink their blood).
  • Drinking blood can also be seen as an ultimate act of intimacy, especially given that the blood-drinking often occurs during the sexual act.

Once I'm showered and dressed, I go back into the living room to pack up my laptop and my bag. Darren's relaxing on the couch, already starting with the reading-and-coffee cycle of his day.

“I don't know how you read that stuff.” Based on Darren's literary tastes and the cover of the book he's reading, I'm assuming it's a crime novel. “Don't you get enough of it at work?”

“It's different.” He puts the book down. “I know it's not real, and I like that…a lot. Besides, I generally go for the ones set overseas. Don't know how accurate they are, but I'm always curious about how Scotland Yard works, or the Italian police.”

I prefer fantasy novels, although I have been known to read crime fiction occasionally. I turn off my laptop
and shove it into its bag. “What did you think?” I nod to the sheet of paper, which now sits on the coffee table.

“Interesting reading. Were the members you spoke to last night like this?”

“I guess, although I don't know much about their childhoods or family backgrounds. Sloan described them as needy, but everyone's needy in one way or another, right?”

Darren shrugs. “I suppose so.” He pauses. “And what about the point on mental illness?”

“It's a common misconception that members of NRMs are weak or mentally ill, but it's not the case. They may have specific and often traumatic events in their past, but so do lots of people.” Darren nods.

“So would you find that info useful if you were working the case?”

“Definitely. The more background info they can get about the Goth world and the world of cults, the better. Everything helps, and anything could spark the all-important revelation.”

I think I'm still at the stage of convincing Sloan and Carey that this thread is a possibility, rather than sparking a revelation, but I know the moment Darren's talking about, and I love it—the “aha” moment when everything falls into place and you suddenly know who the perp is.

I pick up the printout. “It'd be great if the revelation came today.”

Darren smiles, but I can see the hesitation in his face. With the case only a couple of days old, unless we get a DNA match or something else major, it's unlikely we'll get a breakthrough so quickly, especially given the unusual nature of the case.

Swinging my laptop bag over my shoulder I look at Darren—peaceful, at ease—and I do wish I could ditch
the case for a day and spend time with him. But almost immediately I find myself thinking about the Taylors. What are they doing today? Not relaxing, that's for sure. Empathy tears well up inside me. I can't do it…to them or to Sherry.

“I'm sorry I can't stay, honey. The victim's family…”

Darren glances up at me again, instantly gauging my mood. “I know.” He stands up and moves toward the door to give me a tender kiss. “See you later.”

Darren does understand, but the problem is there'll always be a victim or a victim's family and I need to find room for them
and
Darren in my life.

“Bye.” I give Darren another kiss before leaving.

 

I'm at my desk working by 8:30 a.m. I've got an hour before a catch-up conference call with Sloan and Carey and plenty to do. We've all got lots of paperwork today—I'm writing up the profile and Carey and Sloan will be writing up their interviews from last night. At some stage today the FBI guys should be analyzing the video footage. Also on my list is to open some online dialogue with the rogue foursome, or at least their leader, James Logan. Winters and Logan are both becoming more important now that I feel confident Anton isn't our man.

It's only 9:00 a.m. when I get a call from Sloan. “I'm going to call the Taylors. Follow up on Todd Fischer's claim that Desiree was jealous of Sherry.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Want me to dial you in?”

“Sure.”

“Hold on.” I get music for about thirty seconds before a click and then the sound of a ringing phone. Mr. Taylor answers.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor. It's Detective Sloan from the LAPD here and—”

“You have some news?”

I hear the hope in his voice; hope we're about to crush.

“Nothing at this stage,” Sloan responds. “I'm sorry. I've also got Agent Anderson on the line.”

“Good morning, Mr. Taylor.”

“Morning. So how is the investigation going? Honestly?”

I leave it up to Sloan to respond.

“We have quite a few leads to follow, Mr. Taylor. Which is good, but I'm afraid it will take us some time to get through everything.”

“Sounds like you need more people.”

That'd be nice…but unrealistic.

“We'll get it done, Mr. Taylor. There are three of us working your daughter's case full-time, plus we've got people from forensics and the coroner's office.”

He sighs. “I'm sure you realize that I'm a wealthy man. Should I look at getting a private eye on this, too?”

I wince at the thought of a P.I. getting involved—questioning everyone again, sticking his or her nose in and possibly getting someone important offside. I'd rather have more control over this case and the people involved than letting some P.I. loose on the job—no matter how skilled.

Sloan obviously agrees. “I wouldn't recommend that, Mr. Taylor. It tends to complicate things rather than expedite the process.”

“Maybe you're biased.”

“Maybe. But it's less than forty-eight hours since your daughter's body was discovered. Give us a little time, huh?”

Silence, then: “Okay.”

“We've got a few more questions. For your wife actually.”

“Urgent questions? She's still not coping very well.”

“The sooner the better, Mr. Taylor.”

He sighs. “Okay, I'll get her.”

A few minutes later Mrs. Taylor comes onto the phone. “How can I help?”

“We interviewed Todd Fischer yesterday, Mrs. Taylor,” Sloan says.

“Oh my goodness, Todd. We should have told him ourselves.”

“I think he understands, Mrs. Taylor.”

“He's a good boy, despite his upbringing.”

Mrs. Taylor's obviously talking about his mother—I can't imagine there were many dinners between the families.

She continues. “Such a sweet, honest young man.”

“According to Todd, Sherry and he were still seeing each other…sexually.” Sloan gets to the point.

“Really? I am surprised she didn't tell me. We love Todd.”

I start to doodle on my weekly planner, even though I'm listening attentively. “So she definitely didn't tell you they were still sleeping together?”

“No. I knew he'd called her cell a couple of times and she still had feelings for him, but he was her first.”

I wonder if Mrs. Taylor is assuming or if it's something she actually discussed openly with her daughter. And if they did, was Sherry telling the truth?

“Tell me, Mrs. Taylor, do you think Desiree was ever jealous of Sherry?” Sloan asks.

She gives a small chuckle. “Of course. Sherry had it all. A loving, handsome boyfriend, good grades and she is…was…beautiful.”

“And Desiree didn't have those things?”

I agree with Sloan—looking from the outside in, Desiree has it all, too. She's attractive, from a good home and obviously talented to get into UCLA.

“You're right, of course.” She pauses. “But Sherry had
‘it.' That illusive something that's hard to describe, hard to put your finger on. Whatever it is, she had it. People would do anything to please Sherry, and it's been like that for as long as I can remember. It made it hard for her sister, and I imagine hard for her best friend, too. To some people, Desiree would have been invisible when she was next to Sherry. She was simply outshone, if you will.”

Having not met Sherry in life, I can't judge how much is maternal bragging and how much is objective observation. But we all know that type of person—happy, confident, beautiful. From a psychological perspective it can be a bit of a chicken-and-egg situation. Does their natural beauty make them confident and happy or does their personality, their nature, make them attractive to everyone around them? I believe it's a combination of both. And what Mrs. Taylor is describing is more than this—it's a magnetic personality that people are drawn to. Not so different from Anton Ward.

“Todd said that Desiree came on to him,” Sloan says.

“Yes, Sherry told me about that. She didn't believe him, thought he'd misread the signs. But I told her to keep an eye on Desiree and not blindly believe her best friend. Anyway, nothing came of it.”

“Were there other things of Sherry's that you think Desiree wanted?” I'm thinking specifically of Professor Carrington, but I'm not quite ready to bring that up yet.

“Her talent. I'm sure everyone in her class was jealous of that.”

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