"Cause of death for the first one was a slit throat. The second guy was shot."
"That doesn't exactly sound out of the ordinary, Stan," Lacey said.
"No, but get this: the knife was apparently coated with silver, and the bullet we dug out of the other vic seems to be made of pure charcoal. Oh, and there's one thing I forgot to mention: both victims were vamps."
"Holy fuck," she said softly. I never figured out whether Lacey swears because she wants to be considered one of the boys, or if she's just a natural guttermouth.
"My feelings exactly," I said.
"What about the perp – you got any leads that aren't totally worth shit?"
"Bits and pieces, but nothing solid yet. Why?"
"Because it looks like your perp's broadening his range. I'm pretty sure last night the motherfucker did one over here."
I got authorization from the lieutenant to put in some overtime the next day in the cause of inter-departmental cooperation. The chief always loves to hear about stuff like that. When my shift was over, I headed home to grab a few hours' sleep. After lunch, I'd head down the line to Wilkes-Barre, to see whether Lacey Brennan had turned up the third victim of our serial killer.
My headlights illuminated her for a second as I made the slow turn into the driveway, a young woman with dark hair who looked like early twenties, wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeved sweatshirt. As the lights passed over, her eyes reflected back a red glow.
Far as I know, there's only one creature with eyes that show red in response to light. Not cat or deer or raccoon or fox – nothing in the natural world.
Vampire.
But even without the red reflection, I'd have known what she was.
I parked in the right half of the two-car garage. It had come with the house – a big, weathered Cape that had been just about the right size when my family and I had lived there. But I live alone now, and the place has more space than I need. A lot more. I've thought about selling, but I've lived there a long time, and I'm used to the house and its ghosts.
The front porch has three concrete steps leading up to it, and the vampire was sitting on the bottom one. I eased myself down next to her.
We sat there in silence for a while, until she asked, "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"I... you know I can't do that."
Her shoulders twitched in what I assumed was a shrug. "Just checking."
We sat there some more, letting the silence grow between us. Then she said, "Damn, I wish I still smoked. It would give me something to do at times like this."
"Guess there's no reason why you can't take it up again, if you want to."
She made a sound that in a human might have been laughter. "Yeah, lung cancer isn't much of an issue any more, is it?" She shook her head gently. "No, no more tobacco for me. There's only one thing that I crave now."
There was nothing for me to say about that. The quiet settled back down over us, like a shroud. Finally, I said, "So, to what do I owe the–"
"Pleasure? Is that what it is?"
"Sure. You know I'm always glad to see you."
"And yet you won't invite me inside."
I decided to let that go. We'd covered this ground before, and it led exactly nowhere.
After a while, she said, "There's somebody new in town, killing vampires."
I didn't bother to ask how she knew. "Yeah, two so far. That we know of. And maybe one in Wilkes-Barre. I'm checking that out tomorrow – later today, I mean."
Her voice was bitter when she said, "Have you given him a medal yet?"
"I do my fucking job!" I snapped. "I'm a professional. If somebody's committing murders, he's breaking the law. And when I find him, and I will find him, he's going down. Period."
She nodded slowly. In a normal tone she said, "Yeah, that's what I told them."
"Told who?"
"Some people I know. There's been a lot of talk in the local community–"
"You mean the vamp, uh, vampire community."
"That's the only one I hang with, these days. Some of them are saying that you're giving this guy, the killer, a free pass because he's hunting vamps. Your feelings about us aren't exactly a secret."
"Listen, I just told you–"
"I know you did." She placed her hand on my wrist for a moment, and I made myself not pull away. But her touch was cold, so cold. "And I said the same thin, myself."
"Thanks for the endorsement," I said. "And you're telling me about this because..."
"Because some of them are saying they should deal with this themselves. Find the killer themselves. And dispense justice themselves."
"That would be about the worst thing they could do, for a whole bunch of reasons. Vigilante is just another word for murderer, as far as the law's concerned."
"I know." It must be hard to sigh when you don't need to breathe, but she managed it. "I said that, too."
"And did they listen?"
"I think so. For now. But if these murders continue, with no arrest, people are going to start paying attention to the hotheads."
"I don't think Vollman would like that too much."
She didn't react to the name the way the vamp in Susie B's had, but I'm pretty sure I saw her back straighten a little.
"You know Mr Vollman?"
"He's helping us with the case. And, far as I know, he doesn't think I'm slacking off."
"I'll be sure to pass that along."
I noticed her shoulders were shaking slightly. "What?"
"You and Mr Vollman – working together. You must love that!" She sounded genuinely amused. I guess it was kind of funny, at that.
"Well, since you know so much already, you might as well know this: I don't think the killer's a Van Helsing."
"Really? What, then?"
"Some kind of wizard, looks like. He's got his hands on a copy of something called the Opus Mago, which is supposed to be the Holy Grail of grimoires."