Chapter 25
25
OLIVIA
V ampire Jerry and I were sharing a giggle in the car on the way home. I’d just informed him that I’d had more fun on our decoy “date” than I’d ever had with any human man in my entire life, despite him being a gay lawyer who’d been dead for a couple hundred years. He was tickled.
We’d kicked off our evening by going to an art gallery exhibit near Embarcadero. Although Jerry was a civil rights attorney by profession—and clearly quite a successful one, since his going rate was four hundred dollars an hour—he’d showed a few of his pieces alongside other vampire artists. His paintings, inspired by his childhood in Africa and his later years as a slave, depicted macabre imagery that highlighted deconstruction of the human spirit. His work was spectacular, far too gory (and expensive) to be anything I’d hang in my own home, but spectacular, nonetheless. He’d sold every single one of his pieces before the show was halfway over and had left with a stack of commissions. He didn’t paint for the money, he’d said. It was purely catharsis.
Jerry, I learned, was popular within the human art community as well and had rubbed elbows with some of the most famous artists to have ever lived. Much to my enjoyment, he’d spent a great deal of the evening sharing stories about his long-dead friends, graciously answering every single one of the gazillion questions I’d had about them.
My favorite recollection of the vamp’s was about a struggling New York City painter he’d known in the 1930’s. This human friend of his had his first artistic breakthrough after observing Jerry drain a mugger who’d attempted to rob the two of them at knifepoint. Rather than running away after he realized what Jerry was, the artist remained motionless in the alley, captivated by the splashes of blood on the pavement. He later began employing a splatter technique that made him one of the most celebrated painters in the world. His paintings now sell for millions.
After the art show, Jerry and I had gone to a swanky vampire bar called Crimson. They served fancy plasma cocktails in fine crystal glasses that looked so stylish that I almost felt tempted to try one. I took my drink “virgin,” of course, ordering a conservative gin and tonic.
Crimson was underground in both a literal and figurative sense. While one would never guess as much based solely on the lavish décor, the bar was located several dozen feet below the city in a massive tunnel that had previously been used for bootlegging during Prohibition. After we’d received our drinks, Jerry, noticing my anxiety, had sweetly assured me that no vampires were going to harm me. In return I’d snorted, informing him that I was more concerned about being crushed to death in an earthquake—this was San Francisco, after all—which he’d thought was amusing.
I was still horribly saddened by the way things had been left with Robert, but Jerry provided the perfect distraction I needed. I would have spent time with him even if I wasn’t getting paid to do so. His happiness was contagious, and I told him so.
“I think you’re fun you, too, sweetie,” he said, patting my leg with his gigantic hand. As we entered my neighborhood, he made polite observations about its cuteness. Jerry, no doubt, lived in a mansion.
Our time together would soon be over, which made me glum. “I don’t want the night to end,” I told the vamp.
“Okay, then, I’ll bite you and then we can stay together forever,” he said and then barked out an eardrum-shattering cackle. He looked away from the road and flashed me a grin. “Can you imagine the two of us living together for all of eternity? Sorry, but I’ve only got room for one queen in my life. Me.”
To my relief, Jerry returned his focus to driving. It was making me nervous, the way he kept taking his eyes off the road. I wanted to remind him that, unlike him, I couldn’t be put back together like new after a car wreck with a few pints of blood. It was pouring outside; raindrops flooded down from the sky, sounding like giants banging their fists on the car roof.
“I’ve always considered myself more of a princess, anyway,” I teased. “So, really, you’d be more like a wicked stepfather.”
“Ooh, you bitch,” he laughed.
I fluffed my hair. “I try.”
The smile vanished from Jerry’s face as we turned the corner and saw a motorcade of police cars lining the perimeter of the apartment complex. An ambulance was pulled up on a lawn. My lawn. “I hope nobody has been hurt,” he said, but I hardly heard him.
I sat up straight, clutching Jerry’s arm in fright. I saw it, then, the thin line of bright yellow police tape that blocked the entryway to my apartment. A grisly red smear marred the front door. “Oh my God! Liz!”
I threw the car door open while it was still in motion. Jerry slammed on the brakes, bewildered. I sprinted toward my apartment, ducking under the police tape as I reached the edge of the building. A few uniformed police officers tried to grab me, but I snaked through their arms, ignoring their protests.
An officer built like a brick house stepped in my path. His nametag read Hamilton. “Stop!” he shouted in my face.
“This is my apartment!” I screamed. “What happened to my roommate?”
Whatever it was must have been bad, because the officer’s expression instantly changed from outrage to pity. He took a step forward and angled his umbrella so that I was shielded from the downpour. “Are you Olivia Taylor?”
“Yes! Where’s Liz?” His face softened and he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Why aren’t you . . . Please . . . Oh God, Liz!”
“I’m sorry. There’s been an attack,” he said gently.
I studied his face. “Liz?”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Hyperventilating, I bent over and gripped my knees woozily. Officer Hamilton grabbed me under the armpit in a swift motion and led me to a large, covered picnic area in the courtyard. I crumpled onto the nearest bench. David was there, too, sitting a few yards away. He looked awful. His hands were stained with dried blood and his hair was clumped with streaks of red. He gazed at me vacantly, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“What happened?” I asked the officer in a daze.
“We’re still trying to figure that out. We got a call from that young man over there.”
“That’s her boyfriend, David,” I said.
He nodded. “He says Liz was going to bring a set of keys to his place. When she didn’t show, he took an Uber here and discovered your roommate on the lawn. He claims she was dead when he found her. He tried to resuscitate her, but unfortunately it was too late.”
I wiped away tears with the back of my hand. Poor Liz. And poor David for discovering her that way. I couldn’t imagine what I would have done if I’d been the one to find her.
Officer Hamilton handed me a wad of tissue. “It’s been in my pocket, but it’s clean.”
I blew my nose. “How did she die? Did she suffer?” I met his eyes. The compassion contained within them intensified my despair. Whatever had happened to Liz must have been horrendous. “Please, tell me.”
He looked around to confirm nobody else was listening. “I was a park ranger before I joined the force, and I treated a lot of animal injuries. Bears, mostly. From what I saw, your roommate’s throat injury is indicative of an animal attack. We need to wait for the M.E. to confirm, but to me it looks like the work of a mountain lion, although I’ve never heard of one attacking someone in a busy residential area like this.”
I sat up with a start. Throat injury. Could it have been a vampire? I felt like I’d been kicked hard in the stomach.
“Not everyone agrees with me, and I could be wrong,” he admitted. “So, I have to ask: do you have any reason to believe Liz’s boyfriend might have wanted to hurt her? Have they been arguing a lot lately, or have they recently broken up?” He extracted a small notebook for his pocket and clicked his pen.
“David? No way. He’d never hurt her, not in a million years. They were planning on moving into together in a couple weeks.”
He scribbled in his notebook. “Could they have been arguing about the move? Was money ever an issue with them?”
I shook my head, then used the tissue to dab tears from my face. I still couldn’t believe she was gone. “I’m telling you, there is no way David had anything to do with this.”
“I hate to ask you this at such an awful time, but could you tell me where you were tonight?”
“I was working.”
He looked at his watch. “A little late for that,” he commented.
I hesitated. I couldn’t very well tell an officer of the law that my clients were vampires.
His suspicious eyes took in my sparkly party dress. “What sort of work do you do?”
Shit. He knew I was hiding something. But he couldn’t truly think I’d hurt—
“She was with me all night, officer,” Jerry said as he came striding up.
“And who are you?”
“I’m her friend. I’m also her attorney, Jerome Bellamy.” Jerry, all business now, produced a card from his pocket and handed it to Officer Hamilton.
The officer glimpsed at the card briefly, then handed it back. Given the way he’d looked at my outfit, plus the late hour, I sensed he was now under the impression that Jerry and I had been up to some hanky-panky for which I’d been paid. Fine by me.
“You can keep your card, Mr. Bellamy. Olivia isn’t a suspect, but it is my job to question her. Which I’m sure you can understand.”
A member of the forensics team removed David’s shirt and placed it in a plastic bag. She waved at Office Hamilton, who gave her a nod. He turned back to me. “I just have one more question. We’re having difficulty reaching your roommate’s next of kin. Might you know where her parents are?”
“They take a lot of trips overseas,” I said. “Liz mentioned something about going to Europe—Switzerland, I think.”
The officer snapped his notebook closed, repeated that he was sorry for my loss, and then went to talk with the woman from forensics.
“Thank you for being here with me,” I said to Jerry.
“Sweetie, you must be freezing.” Jerry removed his thick wool trench and wrapped it over my shoulders. I attempted to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “You need the jacket more than me. It’s not like I can catch a cold. Listen, are you okay? Can I do anything for you?”
“No, thank you. You’ve been a huge help. I’m so sorry that our evening had to end this way.”
“Olivia, not at all! I’m just so sorry about your friend.” He discreetly looked up at the sky. I understood.
“You’d better go. It will be daylight soon. Honestly, I’m fine.”
Jerry hugged me tightly as we said our goodbyes. He left his jacket with me, along with a business card and a directive not to say anything more to the police. If they had any additional questions, he said, then they could call Jerome Bellamy, Attorney at Law.
I turned my attention to a group of officers standing close by. They were engrossed in a dialogue about what the coroner had told them. Contrary to what Officer Hamilton believed, the injuries to Liz’s neck had not been caused by an animal. They were treating her death as a murder. I tightened my fists in rage; the killer had left my best friend in the mud to perish like she was nothing more than a heap of garbage.
From what I gathered from further snatches of conversation I was able to catch, Liz had been dead since around midnight. This validated the alibi David had given them. The neighbors probably would have found her before David did, had it not been for our porch light that had been smashed out.
David was released by the officers, and he rushed over and threw his arms around me. He reeked of alcohol, and we were both shaking violently. His cold lips pressed against my ear. “I’m going to find the bastard who did this. And when I do, I’m going to rip out his fucking heart.”
“The police will find him, David,” I reassured, but I wasn’t so sure. The possibility that a vampire could have done it niggled me. But why would a vampire have wanted to kill Liz? It didn’t make sense.
The apartment was cleared for entry just after dawn. At the front door, I ran my fingers over the cracked smear of blood, now dehydrated to brown. The last mark Liz would ever leave on the world. The police had discreetly left a flyer for a service that specialized in crime scene clean up.
I took one step into the apartment and panicked. I couldn’t be there, not alone, and not knowing Liz would never come back. I snatched my cell phone off the table by the door and then ran back outside. Robert was who I thought to call first.
The line rang several times, but finally he answered. “Olivia, I’ve been trying to reach you to apologize—”
“Liz has been murdered!” The statement came tumbling out in sobs. “Somebody came to the apartment and killed her last night. Her throat was ripped open, and I think it was a vampire who did it. A vampire, Robert! I don’t know how I know, but I do. I’m sorry for dropping this on you, but I didn’t know who else to call. There’s blood all over my door and I can’t believe that she’s dead. How could anyone do this to Liz? How can she be gone? How?”
“But I just . . . That can’t be,” he said strangely. He must have been as stunned as I was. “Are you okay—have you been harmed?”
I let out a sob. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay, but I’m not hurt. I’m outside my apartment and I’m so scared. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Stay where you are. I’ll send Carl to pick you up. I would come myself, but—”
“The sun, right,” I said numbly.
“You’ll be safe if you stay in the sunlight. Whatever you do, do not go inside your apartment. Avoid shadows.”
“Robert, I don’t want you to send a car. I can’t stand to be near where Liz was . . . I’ll come to you, okay?”
“As long as you aren’t too upset to drive?”
“I’ll be okay,” I said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I will always worry about you, Olivia.”
“I’ll see you in a few,” I said, hanging up.