19. Making Progress
Chapter 19
Making Progress
Hawaiian Desire cruise—The next afternoon
D uring the day, Cerissa tested the evidence Ari dropped off. The wet bar in the suite’s living room served as her makeshift lab, and she finished the analysis in under an hour using the portable DNA machine she’d designed. The V-DNA from the hair found on Petar’s bed didn’t resemble any from his hotel toothbrush, which was to be expected, since Petar had brown hair, but the skin on the back of the pinkie ring matched—along with other V-DNA found on Petar’s magic equipment.
Presumptively, the corpse was Petar’s.
Although the curly white-blond hair definitely came from a vampire, none of Petar’s cauldron’s DNA matched it, as was also expected. Nor did it match with anyone already in her V-DNA database.
Cerissa typed a quick report for Tig and saved the test results to a flash drive. Ari collected everything shortly after and ferried it back to the Hill. He’d meet Tig at the police station later tonight and hand off the evidence bags and reports in person.
After changing into her leopard-spotted swimsuit, Cerissa braided her hair and was about to go knock on Karen’s door when a text dinged in from Antonio through the ship’s messaging system. Attached was a link, which led to a video of the female vampire taken from the ship’s security cameras. The video showed her entering and leaving the victim’s room last night. Then Cerissa’s room phone rang.
“Whoever she is, she’s crafty,” Antonio said without preamble. “After leaving, she went down the hallway but avoided the cameras. She disappeared from the security camera grid, which isn’t easy. It’s a tight grid.”
“I’ll let Henry and Rolf know.”
“There’s more. Security photographs everyone who comes on board. The ship’s face-recognition software didn’t match her with either a passenger or a crew member.”
“So she’s a stowaway.” Cerissa considered the options. Not too many ways to get on board and not be detected. “A vampire could scale the side of the ship. Maybe she slipped on in the predawn hours when the ship first docked in San Francisco and mesmerized a crew member into giving her a key.”
“Possibly. I’ll have to check for unoccupied rooms. If a key card is regularly used to access one, security is supposed to report it.”
Cerissa eased onto the desk chair by the phone. The call was taking longer than she expected. “Maybe the woman is traveling as cargo?”
“Since we’re a passenger ship, we don’t take on many cargo containers, but there are some in our hold. I’ll check the manifest for any oddities.”
“Are you going to have them searched?”
“Not yet. I don’t want to put our security people at risk. They have no idea how to deal with a vampire. For now, I’m hoping she stays low key and gets off in Honolulu. Then she’s someone else’s problem.” He paused. “In the meantime, be careful. She’s spoken to Henry before and seen you and Karen following her. She might be suspicious if she saw you all together again.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
Cerissa hung up the phone and left her suite. She joined Karen by the solarium pool, the one dedicated to private suites, and updated her.
Karen lowered her magenta sunglasses—which matched her one-piece swimsuit—and groaned. “Now Rolf will be even more paranoid.”
“Don’t worry.” Cerissa stretched out on the lounger next to Karen’s. “I won’t let him stop us from having fun.”
“Good.” Karen motioned for the waiter and ordered another pool drink.
Cerissa asked for one too. She needed a little tropical alcohol to get back in the vacation mood.
The drink server returned promptly with their beverages on a round tray. Today’s special was a blue mai tai in a tulip-shaped plastic glass with a flared rim and short stem. The solarium was completely glassed in and climate controlled, with a six-foot-deep lap pool and two spas at each end, and all decorated in a Roman motif, right down to the Corinthian columns. Fortunately, the ship heated the pool area, since the outdoor air temperature had dropped.
Although dressed to swim, Cerissa reclined her lounge chair back to read. She finished her first mai tai and ordered a second one.
A brief while later, a text dinged in. She glanced at the sky through the glass windows. The sun had set. She hoped it wasn’t Antonio with another report on the biter. She grabbed her phone and was pleased to see a message from Henry.
Are you still by the pool?
She replied quickly.
Yes, dinner isn’t until 8:30p.
Excellent. I’m on my way.
That was interesting news. They hadn’t planned an evening swim, but she had plenty of time. Karen had made a later reservation because they were skipping the early show and might catch the one after they eat.
From the lounge chair next to her, Karen looked up from her phone. “Rolf wants me to meet him in our room. Are you going in?”
“Not yet. Go ahead. I’ll knock on your door at eight fifteen.”
“Deal.” Karen gathered her stuff and dumped it all into an oversized pool bag that she slipped over her shoulder. “Bye.”
Sierra Escondida Police Department—Around the same time
T ig reviewed the reports on the V-DNA analysis and came to the same conclusion Cerissa had—the stray hair on the bedsheet may belong to the killer and not to any of Petar’s cauldron. Also, it was good to have confirmation the corpse was Petar’s. Skin only stuck to gold when decomposition was fast and the process was hard to fake.
Progress. Finally.
Laying the reports on her desk, Tig leaned back in her office chair. So far, Ari hadn’t broken the code of nicknames. She’d taken a stab at a few, but they were only guesses. Could Whino be Henry? Or one of the other winemakers on the Hill? Schnauzer had a German sound to it and could be Rolf—a small, yappy dog. Not that she’d ever tell him that. One didn’t insult the mayor and expect his help later.
She didn’t know who Southie was, although Abigale hailed from Boston.
Or was she reading too much into the quirky nicknames?
Any guess she made might lead her down a wrong path, so she set the list aside.
Then it occurred to her—message everyone on the Hill and ask them to reply with the last sports bet they placed with Petar. Working backward, she might compile a few names at least, to rule them out. She didn’t expect the murderer to cooperate, but again, this was about ruling out people, deciphering as many of Petar’s codes as she could.
One thing they still needed to do: search the casino for any clues. According to Brucie, Janey, and the rest of Petar’s cauldron, no one had threatened him. At least, no threats they knew about. What if someone tried to blackmail or extort money from Petar, but he hid it from his children so he wouldn’t worry them? The answer could be hidden in his desk drawer or his sleep room—wherever he slept at his Eastvale casino. He had no other residences she knew about.
She’d need Zeke, Liza, and Jayden along for backup. Brucie had keys to let them in without breaking down the door. After sending off an email asking each of them to be ready to go at sunset tomorrow, she considered what to do next.
And was surprised out of her socks when one of the email recipients walked into her office.
That’s what you call a fast response.
Liza tossed a bound newspaper onto Tig’s desk with a thunk . “What’s this twaddle?”
Tig eyeballed the bundle. “A newspaper, I believe. Don’t tell me you still have one delivered to your home. You know it’s all online, don’t you?”
“That’s not the point.” Liza removed the rubber band and unfolded the front page, then tapped a manicured nail on the first column. “Why’s there an article above the fold entitled ‘Sierra Escondida Exposed’ that’s saying we ban children from our community?”
A restrained laugh escaped Tig’s lips. “Because we do?”
“But mortals aren’t supposed to know. That prick reporter is gonna wake all kinds of snakes with this. He starts with a soft pitch about us not having any schools—”
“We don’t have any schools, but we’re part of the Mordida Unified School District. Our state share of educational funds goes to them.” Tig paused, pressing her eyebrows together. “You’re on the council. You should know this.”
Liza ran her fingers through her black pixie cut, and the fine strands of her hair immediately fell back into place. “Christ on a cracker. Winston handled this shit when he was mayor. No one briefed me, not even when I got appointed vice mayor after he bit the dust.” Her finger returned to the newspaper and moved down a few column inches. “Keep reading. They also claim no children from here go to school. I’m gonna phone Rolf. We can’t let this crap go unanswered.”
“Look, don’t screw up Rolf’s vacation. This gets asked every ten years when feds take the census. You can put out a quick press release countering it.”
“How?”
“There’s a standard response—the mayor’s secretary should have the cheat sheet. Go talk to her.”
“But the second part of the article’s even worse.” Liza’s jaw muscles bulged. “The Gazette claims no one who currently lives on the Hill has popped out a baby in the past twenty-five years. Something about searching a birth record database for the fifty-mile radius from our town.”
Tig frowned. That was a lot of data digging. Nowadays, Hill vampires kept a series of birth certificates—filed with the county fifteen to twenty years apart—so they could slide into a new identity when circumstances forced them.
But they never gave birth to their new identity. Instead, a fictional mother was invented, one who was traveling through and didn’t live on the Hill.
They felt safe doing so because no one ever searched that deep—no one ever checked both the child and the parent in the past to confirm the lineage. Besides, back in the 1940s, birth certificates still weren’t universal in the U.S., so dead ends were deftly dismissed, especially because they filed the fake birth certificates at the time of the so-called birth. No mortal would guess that vampires were playing a long game.
So far, not perfect, but not terrible.
Tig finished the article and looked up to catch Liza’s gaze. “The reporter throws a lot of curveballs, but you can bat them away easily enough. I have confidence in you. The excuses we give aren’t ideal, but give them. Mainly that a lot of folks use Sierra Escondida as a second home. While on vacation, their children are home-birthed here, and the certificates registered accordingly. Then the family returns to where they normally reside, and the kids go to school or are home-schooled there and, once grown, return to live at their parents’ vacation property. I mean, Henry sends his identities to Costa Rica for their education, and bribes schools to produce the necessary records. My next identity is being raised in Nevada. What about yours? You have any in the works?”
“Yup. Minnesota.”
“Just remember, your response doesn’t have to be perfect, just enough to muddy things. Think you can do that?”
Liza grimaced. “I’ll go find the mayor’s secretary, get the official version. You’re sure it’ll pass muster?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Read the cheat sheet, and if you have questions, come back and we’ll discuss. But right now, I have a ton of work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow after sunset.”
“Huh?”
“Check your email.”
Liza scrolled through her phone, then tapped the screen. “Okay, can do. See you guys tomorrow. And thanks for the help.”
They said goodnight and the vice mayor left.
Tig more than understood why Liza was so upset. If mortals started putting the pieces together, they’d figure out something strange was going on with the Hill. But the previous mayor had handled these queries before—that was why his assistant had cheat sheets. Liza would be fine.
At the moment, solving Petar’s murder was the most important duty on Tig’s plate, and she’d learned years ago that when someone handed her three monkeys, give two of them back. And Petar’s murder was a monkey the size of a baboon. She’d keep everything else off her plate until she solved it.