Chapter 3
It was Nick’s feet that convinced me it was him.
Motionless and pointed skyward, they were the only part of his body I could make out through the mounting crowd around the fountain.
He’d worn the same all-white sneaker style for as long as I’d known him, though tonight they had added streaks of red, like two bloody candy canes.
I stood on my tiptoes, getting a better view of the bloody scene. Had Nick committed suicide to get back at me? Seemed like something he’d do. Maybe he’d tried to time it perfectly so that he’d bleed out at my feet as I approached. His plan might have even worked, had it not been for my tardiness.
I shook my head. That didn’t make sense because of the blood. There was just so much of it. Not only on his shoes, but all around the fountain as well. The water was tinged dark pink with it.
An accident? No, I didn’t think so. Accidents usually didn’t summon four police officers and two crime scene investigators.
So, murder, then.
I frowned at the slack-jawed ghouls taking videos on their phones and gaping at Nick’s lifeless corpse like it was a Rembrandt up for auction.
I’d always been perplexed by people who took videos of crime scenes.
What exactly did they do with the footage, save it for occasions they felt particularly nostalgic for the time they witnessed the aftermath of a murder?
Though my ex and I had hardly parted on amicable terms, their blatant disrespect got my hackles up. Did nobody have shame anymore? Whatever happened to common decency?
I elbowed my way through the crowd, ignoring the gasps and grumbles of those I jostled. Trying to get some attention, I waved at an officer who met my eyes and then pointedly looked away. Probably thinking I was a busybody looking for details.
I cupped my hands over my mouth, raising my voice to be heard. “I know the victim. I was coming here to meet him.”
Well, that got his interest.
Suddenly, he seemed mighty eager to talk to me. So did others in the crowd, who began hounding me for information about the dead man I had once loved and shared a home with, though it seemed like a lifetime ago. I ignored their questions, but I did offer up a few more dirty looks.
After concluding a swift, hushed conversation with a crime scene tech, the officer ducked under the caution tape and led me to a nearby bench. We both sat down.
“I’m Officer Neil Dodds,” he said, taking in my disheveled appearance. “And you are?”
I introduced myself, wishing that I’d dressed better, as if being unkempt somehow implicated me of murder. I didn’t know why I felt so nervous. It wasn’t like I’d killed Nick.
The thin metal slats of the bench, chilled by the crisp San Francisco evening air, bit at my skin through my sweatpants.
It added to my edginess. Despite my impatience to hurry things along, I remained silent and waited for the officer to start asking questions.
Call it a byproduct of associating with vamps, but I’d witnessed enough crimes to know that nervously yammering would only make me look guilty.
I needed to be extremely careful about what I said to the police.
I was thinking about the VGO, who may have had a hand in the murder.
Nick had never prided himself on his loyalty or his intellect.
It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d attempted to extort money from them to buy his silence about the existence of vampires.
If he’d done that, I would have been more astonished if they hadn’t killed him, since they were highly sensitive about threats of exposure.
Still, I wasn’t entirely convinced the VGO were responsible.
Not murdering Nick had been a condition of the agreement I’d struck with them.
I wasn’t gullible enough to think they’d fear betraying little old me, but they would have at least notified me of their intention to void the non-murder portion of our deal.
They were surprisingly dedicated to keeping their word.
Besides, had they wanted to assassinate Nick, they wouldn’t have risked carrying out the hit in such a public fashion. They would have attacked him when he was alone, with no human witnesses around.
But, if not them, who?
Officer Dodds ripped me away from my thoughts. “Miss?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I realized he’d been speaking for some time. Embarrassed, I glanced away. Big mistake.
It was at that moment the crowd parted, and I caught sight of Nick’s decapitated head floating around the fountain like an apple bobbing game at a Halloween carnival.
Shocked, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I watched in horror as one of the crime scene techs pulled his head from the water and bagged it.
“Excuse me,” I said, and then I calmly leaned over the side of the bench and vomited into a bed of pansies.
Pretending not to notice me emptying my guts, the officer fiddled with the notepad and pen he’d pulled from his pocket. I appreciated his consideration. There’s nothing worse than somebody watching you puke, even if it’s justified.
Once my stomach was empty, I sat up and wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve. The officer discreetly offered me a stick of gum, which made me feel better. Prepared as he was, I mustn’t have been the only one who’d ever lost their dinner in front of him.
He then proceeded to ask me standard questions.
What was my connection to Nick?
Why had we picked the shopping center as a meeting place?
What time had we planned on meeting?
I answered all his questions, though I faltered on the last one out of guilt.
Ultimately, I confessed to my lateness, figuring I had no reason to hide it.
Officer Dodds seemed satisfied with my answers.
He was being gentle with me, too, probably gathering that I wasn’t a diabolical murderer based on the pasta I’d just upchucked into the flowers.
His next question gave me pause.
Did I know anybody who’d want to harm Nick?
Sure, about a dozen members of the VGO, my current boyfriend, my best friend and her husband, plus the slew of women he’d potentially knocked up and then ghosted while we were dating. Oh, and then there was me.
Of course, I said none of that.
I sat back on the bench and pretended to reflect. When I felt I’d paused sufficiently, I said, “In all honesty, I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt Nick. I can’t believe anyone would be angry enough to do that to him.”
“Why did the two of you break up?”
Because he’s an asshole, I didn’t say.
“We’d been together a long time,” I said, shrugging. “Our relationship had run its course. We were going in different directions.”
Sounded reasonable enough to my own ears. What I’d said technically wasn’t a lie. Still, I hadn’t exactly made my animosity toward Nick a secret. I cringed at the thought of police gaining access to his emails. I’d sent him some doozies.
Without thinking, I added, “I’m with someone else now.”
The officer clicked his pen and poised it over his notepad. “And who would that be?”
Shit.
“You don’t think—”
“I have to ask,” he said, almost sounding apologetic.
I sighed. “His name is Robert Bramson.”
Officer Dodds, once again taking in my ragged appearance, seemed dubious. “You don’t mean the billionaire.”
I raised my chin. “That’s right.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He might as well have snorted. He scrawled a note in his pad, probably something like: Witness Olivia Taylor is delusional. Take statements with a grain of salt.
Fine, let him think I’m crazy and pathetic, I thought. Better than him thinking I’m a coldblooded killer.
He closed his notepad and stuffed it back into his breast pocket. “You sure you can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt your ex?”
I shook my head. “Nick isn’t—wasn’t—exactly what you’d call an international man of mystery.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“He was a regular guy, you know? He worked in the sales department of a small business that specializes in commercial carpeting, office buildings and whatnot. His life was basically work and sometimes the gym or a few beers with friends. Video games. Frisbee golf. He wasn’t a guy who garnered a lot of enemies. At least, not that I know of.”
I hoped my statement sounded bland but rational enough to make Officer Dodds scratch me—and Robert, too, though I doubted he even believed that I knew him—off the list of potential suspects.
The last thing I needed was for my life to be at the center of a police investigation, especially now that I had the VGO and their demands for my blood to contend with.
I watched the other officers by the fountain. They didn’t seem to be interacting with any civilians, other than occasionally telling them to back up. It appeared I was the only one being interviewed.
I said, “Don’t you have any witnesses?”
Officer Dodds peered at me suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s odd that Nick was murdered in such a public place, yet nobody saw a thing. Don’t you think?”
Odd if the killer was human. Not so odd if they were vampire.
The officer agreed. It was odd.
Eventually, he asked, “You mentioned earlier that your ex had something of yours. You were meeting him to get it back, correct?”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“What did he have?”
I considered lying, but I needed to get those damn fangs back for Robert. How was I going to explain them, though?
After hesitating, I began, “This is embarrassing, and it’s going to sound weird . . .”
The officer shifted uncomfortably, like he was worried I was going to disclose something in the realm of Too Much Information—naked photos, perhaps, or a long-lost sex toy. “Go on.”
“Back when Nick and I were together, we took a road trip through Arizona and New Mexico along old Route 66. You know, to buy turquoise souvenirs and visit Native American villages? We were looking to absorb some culture.”
The part about the Route 66 tour was true. However, the only “culture” Nick had been interested in involved the little green men he’d hoped to spot in the stars above New Mexico.
I continued, “We stopped at this tiny tourist trap where a shaman did an aura reading to find our spirit animals.”
“Come again?”
“Our spirit animals,” I said, thinking, Where are you coming up with this? “It’s the animal that represents you in an altered consciousness, like on an astral plane.”
That was right, wasn’t it? I had no idea, but it sounded good.
“Right,” Officer Dodds commented, though his tone said: Okay, fruitcake.
“Anyway, my spirit animal was a—” What had fangs? “—wolf.”
I provided him a faraway smile that contained a hint of melancholy. Ah, the bittersweet memories of a made-up stop at the made-up tourist trap to see a made-up shaman.
“So, your ex had . . . what did he have of yours? A wolf painting? A stuffed animal?” the officer asked impatiently. The look on his face told me that he was in no mood for a rambling story.
“Close,” I said. “They were actual wolf fangs.”
He frowned.
“Don’t worry, they were cruelty free. They’d come off a mamma wolf who’d died giving birth.” Soon, I’d need a shovel for all the bullshit I was throwing.
“Why are these wolf fangs so important to you? They must be since you made a special trip here to get them.”
“That’s a good question.”
And hopefully I could come up with a good answer.
I said, “The fangs are special because they’re from a time when Nick and I were happy as a couple. Our split had been amicable, of course—” I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from balking “—but they’re representative of a fond memory.”
“Even though you’re with Robert Bramson now?” he said, sounding almost as if he was mocking me.
“That’s right. So, if I could have the fangs back, I’d really appreciate it. They’re just so small. I’d hate to see them lost.”
A few tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, and I realized that I wasn’t faking them.
Nick may have done a lot of despicable things, but he didn’t deserve to be murdered in such a barbaric fashion.
I felt the most grief for his parents, who were sweet, decent people from a small town in Minnesota.
They were going to be devastated to learn that they’d lost their only son.
The officer considered my request. “We’ll have to hold them as evidence, but I don’t see why you won’t be able to get them back after everything’s processed.”
I sighed. Robert was not going to be happy when I returned home empty-handed. Vampires had connections everywhere, though, so maybe he or one of his associates knew a human at the police station who could be bribed to steal the fangs from evidence lockup.
“So, you’ve seen them?”
“No, I haven’t personally,” the officer said, getting to his feet. “Wait just a moment, please.”
I wiped tears away from my cheeks with the back of my hand. “It would break my heart if they were damaged,” I called after him desperately as he strode toward the fountain. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was essential to Robert’s welfare to get those fangs back.
I watched as the officer searched around the fountain, then briefly chatted with the techs working the scene. Everyone he spoke with shook their heads. I knew the news was bad before Officer Dodds returned to deliver it.
The fangs were nowhere to be found.