Playing With Vampires - An Izzy Cooper Novel (4 page)

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, before downing the last of the whiskey in his glass.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, and it was even sincere. “I don’t know that much about you … I just assumed that all demons were pretty much alike.”

“Then I guess you have a lot to learn about your new family … unless you change your ways somehow.” He chuckled, as if the mere thought was amusing.

There was a darkness to him that hadn’t been there an instant before. After dealing with Julius for as long as I had, I was accustomed to that darkness, but for some reason it really bothered me tonight.

Maybe I was still holding out the ridiculous hope that there was a side to him that wasn’t demonic.

Always, just as I would begin to think there was something more to Julius, the darkness would return and shatter the illusion.

Mornings don’t come natural to me. I was of the opinion that getting out of bed before nine was uncivilized, and any boss that required you to do so, was just plain sadistic. Of course I couldn’t tell Ayden this or he’d just give me my walking papers, so I compromised by forcing myself out of bed and pulling on my most rebellious T-shirt.

My bitch switch shirt had a big picture of a light switch in the on position, with the words, Bitch Switch scrawled above it.

I figured that should rankle Ayden’s nerves enough to get even for the early mornings.

Once I was dressed, it was time for the rest of my morning routine, which I could have done with my eyes closed. It was a good thing too, since I usually did.

Brushing my teeth and hair was the next step. Of course I couldn’t forget my jeans and shoes.

Other than that, all I needed was an extra large coffee from the Quick Stop and I would be good to go. As soon as I thought about the Quick Stop, the vision of Polly’s pale and mangled corpse reared its ugly head.

My usual reaction to something so gruesome was to push it out of my thoughts, but it wasn’t working this time.

Polly had been so young and beautiful, with her whole life ahead of her. No doubt she’d had dreams of a future, but it was a future she’d never have the opportunity to see.

Even more disturbing than how Polly’s life ended, was the fact that there had been so many murders on Mystique Island in such a short period of time.

Although there was probably no connection to the homicides that had occurred earlier in the summer, I couldn’t help but wonder.

For a community that had gone the last hundred years with only a few murders, to have as many in less than six months wasn’t normal.

Maybe there really was something to the curse, but I didn’t think it had much to do with the old Indian legends. I was sure it had more to do with the island being a power spot. I didn’t believe it was mere coincidence that two hundred years ago, the ship carrying most of the island’s settlers was blown off course and ended up sinking close to the island. It was almost as if the island itself had orchestrated it.

Shaking off the thought, I pulled my Mustang, which I liked to refer to as Lady Luck, into the parking stall closest to the Quick Stop’s entrance.

I figured since I needed a caffeine fix anyway, I might as well question whoever was working. Maybe one of Polly’s fellow employees would have some idea of what she’d been doing on Anchor Avenue.

There was just something about Polly being in that location that wasn’t sitting well with me. She’d seemed like too nice of a girl to get mixed up with the riffraff on Anchor.

I was glad to see that Janet Spencer was working. If anyone at the Quick Stop would know about Polly, it would be Janet. Whenever I’d seen the two girls working together, they’d seemed pretty close.

After filling a large Styrofoam cup with extra strong coffee, and then dumping three coffee creamers in it, I strolled over to the checkout counter.

Much like Polly had been, Janet seemed like the perfect employee. She wore her chestnut brown hair pulled into a bun, and dutifully tucked her white and red uniform shirt into her pants, nice and neat like.

In a way, I was jealous of girls like Polly and Janet. I had a heck of a time understanding how some people could conform so easily, yet I was doing good if I could drive around the block without getting a speeding ticket.

“Hello,” I said, giving her one of my most disarming smiles.

I guessed that Janet must have already received news of Polly’s demise. Her complexion was paler than usual, which made the dark circles beneath her eyes even more pronounced.

The only response I received was one of those mechanical, customer service smiles.

“Do you mind answering a couple of questions about Polly Nielson?” I asked, sliding my money across the counter.

“I guess it would be okay.” Janet shrugged. “But Sheriff Bourne already stopped by my house last night to question me.”

“It will only take a minute.”

Janet nodded. “Okay.”

“How well did you know Polly?”

“We talked a lot while working … and sometimes we’d go hang out on our days off.”

“So would you have any idea what Polly would have been doing on Anchor Avenue so late?”

Janet shrugged. “Not really. I know she’d taken another part time job, but she never told me where she was working. The guy that hired her wanted their arrangement kept secret.”

Now we were getting somewhere.

Getting a nighttime job was one thing, but getting a job that had to be kept secret meant that whatever she’d been doing, it couldn’t have been good.

“So she never gave you any idea who it was she was working for?” I prodded, hoping that somehow my questions would jar the girl’s memory.

Janet shook her head, but I couldn’t help but notice that she was busy chewing away at her bottom lip. She was nervous, and the only reason for her to be nervous was if she were hiding something.

“You know Janet … if you are withholding information that could be useful in this investigation, you could be charged with obstruction of justice.”

I hated playing my, threaten the witness hand, but I was sure Janet was holding back something.

Janet’s eyes scanned the store, as if she were worried someone would overhear her. “Well you know Polly’s grandfather is a warlock, right?

I nodded. “Do you think there’s a connection?”

The fact that, No Nonsense Nielson, was a warlock, wasn’t exactly a big secret. Now that Polly was gone, Joshua was the last of the Neilson flock. Like my mother, Polly’s mother and father had left Mystique Island, only to meet a bad end. Polly had lived with old Joshua ever since.

No matter how sour the old man was, I had no doubt that Polly’s death was going to do him in. His granddaughter had been the apple of his eye, and he’d doted on her to a fault.

Janet shook her head. “I don’t think there’s a connection to her grandfather being a warlock … at least not directly. But …” her voice trailed off.

“Go on,” I urged, lacing my words with as much patience as I could muster, which wasn’t a whole lot considering I hadn’t yet downed my coffee.

To remedy this, I took a couple sips of the rich brown liquid, managing to scorch my lips in the process.

“Don’t you think that Polly’s grandfather might have had some enemies?” she answered my question with a question.

Damn I really hated that.

“I’m sure he might have had an enemy or two,” I agreed. “But we have reason to believe that Polly’s murder is connected to another homicide that wouldn’t have had anything to do with her grandfather.”

I assumed it wouldn’t anyway. It wasn’t as if I’d had a lot of time to look over the cases to find a connection. That was one thing I’d learned while working with the FBI. When it came to serial homicides, there was always a connection between the victims, even if it wasn’t apparent to the average person. The connection might be the color of their hair, or as simple as accessibility.

It was for this reason that I was less interested in Janet’s theories about Polly’s grandfather, and a little more interested in what kind of work she’d been doing, and who she’d been doing it for.

“So Polly never gave you a single hint about what her job was?” I asked again.

“I know it had something to do with the new owner of the Marsh estate. That’s really all she would tell me about it.”

There was a tone to Janet’s voice that convinced me that this time, she really was telling me everything she knew.

As an afterthought, I grabbed a chocolate doughnut and slipped Janet some more money. Coffee was a good start, but I had a feeling that this was going to be one of those days that would require something a little extra, such as chocolate.

I had a bad feeling, and usually when I had bad feelings, chocolate did wonders.

This time the chocolate didn’t do much of anything, except cover my hands with a sticky substance that was going to bug the hell out of me until I got to the office and washed it off.

The wet drizzly weather only added to that feeling of gloom that had settled over me. Living in Oregon my entire life, you’d think that I’d have gotten used to the rain. Most of the time I barely noticed, but there were days when the black clouds and misty weather really did a number on me. This was going to end up being one of those days.

I turned onto the Island Loop road, which would take me to the lighthouse on Shipwreck Point. This was where the West Coast Atypical Crimes Management Unit was based.

Although the road had lots of twists and turns, I could practically drive it with my eyes closed, which meant I could divide my attention between my blasting radio, and the road. That’s exactly what I was doing when all the sudden the radio went bonkers and filled with static.

“It probably won’t work while I’m in your car. The radio I mean.” Muriel’s voice came at me from the backseat.

Startled, I swerved and nearly took Lady Luck and myself off a hundred foot cliff that would have landed us right into the swirling gray waves of the Pacific Ocean.

When my heart slowed enough that I could think straight, I glanced into my rearview mirror.

Sure enough, Muriel was staring back at me, the corners of her mouth tilted upward in a mischievous grin.

“What the hell are you doing in my backseat?” I asked, in a not so friendly manner.

This was the second time Muriel had nearly killed me. The last time had been on the stairs to the lantern room of the lighthouse.

She’d claimed it was an accident, but I was no longer so sure.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I wanted to talk before you got to work.”

Muriel was the ghost who haunted the Shipwreck Point lighthouse. According to town legend, Muriel was murdered by the ghost of Captain Marsh, but I wasn’t convinced, about the being murdered by a ghost part. It was obvious she’d been murdered, but by whom was the real question. Muriel couldn’t remember her own death, which wasn’t all that uncommon with the deceased.

One day I intended to look into it, but unfortunately that day wouldn’t be today. There were more recent murders I was going to have to deal with.

“Well next time warn me before you pop in like that,” I grumbled, pushing my words home with an angry scowl.

A sudden thought popped into my head. “I thought you couldn’t leave the lighthouse?”

Muriel shrugged. “I don’t know. I was thinking about you and the next thing I knew, I was in your car.”

That was definitely strange. It was almost as if she were growing more powerful. There were times when a spirit might have more power than at other times, but that was usually during an electrical storm.

Leaning down, I studied the horizon through the windshield. There were lots of gray black clouds, but as far as I could tell, no lightning.

I shifted my eyes back to the rearview mirror. Muriel was still there, her face sallow and corpse looking. She didn’t normally manifest like that.

“You look dead,” I commented. What’s up?”

“So there’s been another death, hasn’t there?” Muriel asked, not bothering to answer my question.

I hated that too.

“What makes you think so? Have you seen the captain again?”

Muriel and everyone else on Mystique Island were convinced that if there were sightings of old Captain Marsh, something bad was sure to happen.

Muriel nodded. “I saw him last night. He was sitting in a rowboat just offshore … and he was watching the lighthouse.”

I wasn’t sure how much of what Muriel said I could believe, but if she did see this ghost haunting the shore of Shipwreck Point, then it was a bit odd.

“Well look at it this way. If you did see Captain Marsh in a boat last night, he couldn’t have been in Storm Cove killing anyone.”

Muriel rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he couldn’t get there in a hurry, if he wanted.”

That part was true, but what was even truer was that ghosts rarely killed the living. They preferred to hang around and spook them. Why the dead liked doing things like that, I still hadn’t figured out yet.

“You want to know what I think, Muriel?”

“What?” she asked in a particularly wary voice.

Apparently she’d grown accustomed to my bitchy moods, and knew what to expect when I happened to be in one of those moods.

“I think you probably overheard Tim and Ayden talking about the case, and you just want to pin it on the old captain.”

“Whatever!” she said before dissipating into thin air.

I was really going to have to practice being more sensitive to Muriel’s feelings. Now she was angry, and having an angry ghost haunting the lighthouse wasn’t going to make for the most ideal work environment.

Even after I’d explained to Muriel that the last case really had nothing to do with Captain Marsh, she’d insisted that there was a connection, though she couldn’t tell me what that connection was.