36. Distant Relations
Chapter 36
Distant Relations
Sierra Escondida Police Department—That night
T ig unlocked the police station door. Her phone rang as she strode down the hallway, and she unhooked the device from her belt. Cerissa’s name appeared on the screen. Looking into the squad room, she motioned for Jayden to join her. When he did, she closed the door to her office, then answered. “Yes?” She tapped the speaker button. “I have Jayden with me.”
“And I have Ari with me. I found Inanna’s blood on Henry’s shirt and compared her V-DNA to both Petar’s V-DNA and to the hair you discovered at the crime scene.”
“Why compare them?” Tig remained standing and leaned her clenched fists against the desk, making eye contact with Jayden, who’d taken the guest chair. “The hair belonged to a male, and its color alone rules her out.”
“To see if she’s related to Petar or the hair’s owner. The results: Inanna is likely related to whoever left behind the curly white-blond hair, and she isn’t related to Petar. I mean, there are some markers all vampires share in common, and Inanna and Petar have those, but not the ones I’m tracking for closer genetic relatives.”
Shock ratcheted through Tig, and she plopped onto her desk chair. Finally, something to point them in the right direction. “So the killer—or someone present when Petar was killed—is her son?”
“Within the bounds of possibility. I believe we can trace the lineage through the genes that are triggered when a maker turns a mortal into a vampire. But don’t forget that the whole heredity markers theory is still tentative. They’ve proven true so far, but there’s always a possibility of an error or that the markers run in all vampires who are from certain lines. I don’t have enough samples from maker-child pairs to confirm it runs true.”
“Still, it’s a start.”
“Why don’t you call Inanna instead? Ask her who she sent the stakes to.”
Tig’s eyes widened. “You have her phone number?”
“She gave me her business card last night. I forgot to mention it when we spoke yesterday. I’ll photograph and send it to you as soon as we hang up.”
“That would be great. I’ll try her later.” Tig nodded to herself. “Assuming your theory is correct, do you think Inanna is using one of her children as an executioner?”
“If she is, why send out so many, uh, gifts?” Cerissa asked. “And why start by killing Petar?”
Good questions. But Tig couldn’t come up with another explanation. “If Inanna isn’t involved, are you suggesting that one of her children is acting independently, and just happened to use Inanna’s gift?”
“Or her spawn didn’t know the silver stake was a gift from Inanna and brought along what they had handy when they confronted Petar. After all, none of us thought the deadly weapon was benevolent when we received one.”
Tig leaned back in her chair, one hand pressed to the top of her head. “She commissioned twenty-two stakes, sixteen of which went to her children. So far, based on the inscriptions, the five we know about aren’t her children. Only Petar’s murderer.”
“Um,” Jayden said, waving to get her attention. “There is another stake. A package arrived for you during the day.”
Tig’s jaw fell open. She’d had one too many shocks in a short period. “Me?”
“I checked the box for chemicals and then x-rayed it. Another stake inside. I didn’t have a chance to brief you before the phone rang.”
“Right.”
“Tig,” Cerissa spoke up. “Don’t forget, the markers are still a working theory. The killer could be a more distant relation in her line and not her direct child. Just something to note.”
“Hmm,” Tig said. “But the inscription—‘To my beloved son’—implies otherwise, and connects her to the killer. She could have sent the other stakes to misdirect us.”
“Seems like a lot of work to create a smokescreen,” Cerissa replied. “It would have been easier to omit any inscription from the stake that killed Petar.”
“You’re right.” Tig made a note on the omnipresent lined yellow pad but marked it as unlikely. “By the way, I called the mortuary in New York and they confirmed Inanna’s story.”
“I guess that’s good news,” Cerissa replied.
Tig tapped her fingers impatiently. “What about the hair from Callistus’s couch? Did you test it yet?”
“Yeah.” Sadness infused that one word. “It doesn’t match the one from the crime scene. What you collected at Callistus’s house was dog hair. Not vampire. My hypothesis is poodle. Maybe a standard-sized one, as the curl is large.”
Tig slammed her hand on the desk. She was lucky it didn’t crack. “All of them?”
“Sorry. You sent three hairs. I tested each.”
Jayden cleared his throat. “We still have two more. I held them in reserve in case the first ones were lost in the mail.”
“I’m happy to test them when we return home tomorrow night.”
Fuckity, fuck, fuck. Why can’t we catch an actual break here? Tig braced her forehead on her hands. “Marcus submitted the CSLI warrant to the phone company five days ago, and so far, no response. I need some kind of evidence to rule Callistus in or out.”
“Don’t give up yet,” Ari said, his voice hollow. Cerissa must have them on speaker phone. Tig had almost forgotten he was on the call. It was unlike him to be so quiet. “You want me to hack in and get the location for you?”
Tig huffed. That was more like Ari. If the phone company didn’t send the data soon, she’d turn him loose on their computer servers—proper protocol be damned. “I’ll let you know when.”
“I could take a little peek—”
“No. And don’t go behind my back. Our collection of evidence must remain pristine. We’re dealing with the head of another community as a suspect.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your badge in a twist,” Ari said. “We have more news. Are you sitting down?”
Tig growled. “I’m not in the mood, so cut the crap and just report what you found out.”
“He’ll never learn,” Cerissa said with a laugh. “Now, what I’m about to tell you can’t go any further. But Ari’s right. I almost fell off my chair when I read the results. Inanna is likely the daughter of the Lux prototype.”
Now it was Tig’s turn. She stared at Jayden, who returned her stare open-mouthed. “Does that mean what I think it means?” she asked.
“I mentioned before that Lux DNA was used to create the first vampire, right?”
“So you’ve said.”
“Well, the scientist who performed the gene surgery didn’t know what they’d frankensteined. They experimented on altering Lux DNA so we could reproduce without mortals, and in the process, created the first vampire. When they took their creation into the suburbs of Mesopotamia, trying to introduce it to the way the locals lived, the creature escaped, attacked a local woman, and drained her blood, then force-fed his blood to her before the Lux could stop him.”
A chill spasmed down Tig’s spine. “You think Inanna is that woman?”
“High probability. The Lux Guardians abandoned the woman for dead and had no clue why the vampire attacked the villager. They assumed he couldn’t be civilized and destroyed him. Case closed. Except the nearby village started reporting people dying from blood loss, yet no blood was found near them, only a neck bite and the corpse sucked dry. My ancestors concluded the first vampire reproduced himself, and after subsequent deaths, they hunted for his child. Since then, the woman has eluded us. I have a tissue sample from the original vampire, and I compared that V-DNA to Inanna’s and detected a marker for a direct descendant—assuming my theory holds.”
Tig had watched the video conversation between Cerissa and Inanna, and the reality sank in. It was one thing to be told the Lux created and destroyed the first vampire. It was another to put a name and face to the child of that first vampire, the mother of them all. “Okay, I’m going to issue a bulletin to all the treaty communities, asking for a list of everyone they know who’s received a silver stake anonymously—or from their maker.” She started typing notes as she spoke. “Then I’m going to create a space on the server. Only the four of us will have access to the folder, so we can share the, uh, confidential information about Petar’s murder. Cerissa, please upload the V-DNA results to the link I send you, and Ari, add the video of Inanna to that folder.”
Cerissa and Ari spoke over each other. “Will do,” Cerissa said, and Ari echoed her. “You got it, chief.”
“Thanks.” Tig was grateful, but also eager to get off the phone. “Do either of you have anything else to report?”
“One more thing,” Cerissa said. “I just want to make sure you saw my text. I suspect that a strict diet of clone blood isn’t good. Vary it with some of the donor blood bags that Luis distributes.”
“I read your message about the problem.” Tig had hoped donor blood was in the rearview mirror. Now she had to go back to drinking the disgusting, stale stuff. At least it wouldn’t be all the time. “How did you make this discovery?”
“Henry had a bit of a bleeding problem from Inanna’s attack. I still have studies to complete, but I suspect the fact we removed the clotting factor from clone blood is responsible. A few bags of donor blood stopped the hemorrhaging, and he’s fine now.”
“Understood. Keep me apprised.”
“Of course.”
Tig clenched her jaw. This wasn’t great, but the news could be worse. “Do you want me to send out a warning to the Hill? I could use the reverse-911 system to alert them.”
“Luis will handle notifying our customers. Right now, no one except you, Rolf, and Henry are receiving enough clone blood to forgo donor bags. In the future, the products we distribute to the Hill will come with a warning label.”
“Got it.”
“Anything else you want to discuss?” Cerissa asked.
Tig’s finger hovered over the phone’s screen. “Not for now.”
“Okay, bye then.”
Tig tapped off the call.
Jayden whistled. “Not what I ever expected to hear today. I can’t believe the mother of all vampires is still alive.”
The door to the police station lobby buzzed. Someone with a key to open the locked front door had come in. Tig jumped to her feet and strode over to the rack on the wall. “Let me see who that is.”
Just to be safe, she removed her SIG Sauer from the gun’s holster, which was slung over a hook next to her coat.
Jayden did the same, taking his handgun from his belt holster and carrying the Glock at his side.
Tig slid to a stop in the lobby with Jayden on her tail.
Liza, with her hand wrapped around the back of Janey’s neck, firmly guided the mortal into the police station, a harsh look of disapproval on her face. “This sneaky bitch—”
“Keep it polite.”
“Fer goodness’ sake, when you hear what she did, you might have some choice words of your own.” Liza shook the young woman like a terrier would shake a rat. “Janey here has something to give you.”
Janey cringed. “I don’t see why I have to. It’s mine.”
Tig stepped aside. “Okay, everyone, into the interview room.”
Once they all sat with the three police officers across from Janey, Tig started recording the conversation and gave Liza a side glance. “What happened?”
“Janey here tried to sneak into my laptop, and it sent me an alert. The double-dealing snake has been hiding evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“A memory stick.”
“Why do you think it’s relevant?”
“Tell her, Janey, or I’ll rat you out.”
“I, ah…” Janey stared at the tabletop. “I made a copy of Petar’s notebook.”
“How—”
“Camera on my phone to the cloud. The customers’ real names are on the flash drive. Like, we got to make a livin’ somehow.” She kept her gaze averted, picking at a scab on her wrist. “If I don’t start reconciling those bets, the losers will stiff us and the winners will hunt us down and kill us if we don’t have enough money to pay them.”
Tig held out her palm. “Hand it over.”
“But Petar’s clients—”
“We’ll protect you from Petar’s clients. They might just have to wait to collect their winnings. But if you cooperate now, I just might—and I say might —let you have the drive back.”
Janey shoved a hand into her jeans and then tossed the drive to Tig, who snatched the rectangular stick out of the air. She angled it so Liza could see. “Is this the right one?”
“How should I know? The only reason I found out is because of the alert. Janey removed the thing before I got to her. I figured you could decide how to deal with her.”
“I’ll get Marcus to write a warrant to search her belongings and her room at your house.”
“Hey!” Janey looked thoroughly disgruntled. “What about my rights?”
“Your rights ended when you lied to me.” Tig managed to restrain herself from throttling the mortal. “Is the drive password protected?”
“No.”
“Do you have any other storage drives with you on the Hill?” Tig glared at Janey. “And don’t even think of lying again.”
“I might have one in my purse. But this is the one with the usernames decoded. We do this for safety—neither of us carries the whole thing when we travel.”
Tig growled at her. “You’re damn lucky Petar didn’t betray you when he was tortured.”
“Tor-tortured?” Janey stammered.
“Yeah. Now, you’ll wait here while we examine the data. Liza, do you mind watching her?”
“You guys can have me for an hour, then I have to leave.”
“Okay. Hopefully, Marcus won’t take long to get a warrant approved to search Janey’s stuff.” Tig stood. “Jayden, you’re with me.”
He was more tech oriented than she was, so he worked with the USB drive while she phoned Marcus. The town attorney promised to have the warrant drafted within the hour and submitted to an adjudicator—one who was part of another treaty community, probably San Francisco.
After fifteen minutes, Jayden gave up. “I can’t get the laptop to recognize the USB drive.”
Tig blew out a frustrated breath. Had Janey lied after all? She grabbed her phone. “We’ll need Ari.”
With Liza and Janey in the station, she cautioned him to arrive by car and not flash in. It took longer, but Tig soon heard the front door buzz and went down the hall to let him in. “We’re back here.”
Ari carried a briefcase. “Long time, no chat.”
“Funny.”
“So you’re sure she said the drive wasn’t password protected?”
“I understand English just fine.”
“Did you ask her if she booby-trapped it?”
“Huh?”
“I’ll take that for a no.” Ari laid his briefcase on the worktable and took out a laptop and some other devices. “What happened when you plugged it in?”
“Nothing,” Jayden said. “The window that usually pops up didn’t. I opened a file manager window and couldn’t find anything on the drive.”
Ari held out his palm. “Device, please.”
Jayden unplugged it from the USB port and handed it over.
Closing one eye, Ari peered into the drive’s plug. “Something’s in there.” He grabbed a can of compressed air from his briefcase and sprayed the plug’s opening. “Easiest way to keep a drive from communicating is a little aluminum foil to interfere with the connection.” Then he started his own laptop, attached a black box, and plugged the drive into the box. “Why, the little minx.”
Code started scrolled across his screen. He tapped a function key to stop it.
“What’s all that?” Jayden asked.
“Malware. Plug in the drive and your computer’s immediately infected when the operating system tries to read the device. Then, unless you stop the process and type in a password, your computer acts like it can’t see the drive, because of the malware.”
“Dammit.” Tig looked over Ari’s shoulder as a flashing cursor waited for a password. “That means our server is now infected.”
“Nope.” Jayden smiled smugly. “I used the standalone laptop. It’s isolated from the station’s computer system.”
Ari snorted. “I hope there’s nothing important on its hard drive.”
“No, I keep this laptop around just in case we find a USB drive at a crime scene.”
“Smart man.” Ari turned to Tig. “Before we go any further, you’ll need the password.”
She tapped her fingers on the table. How the hell was she going to get Janey to tell the truth? She couldn’t use force—the answers she got might not be accurate, and Jayden wouldn’t stand for any abuse of a mortal. “Any ideas how to trick Janey into telling us the password?”
“Uh, Cerissa has been working on something that might work. You must have gotten on Agathe’s good side, because she authorized us to release it to you once Cerissa’s finished fine-tuning the gadget. I think she’s done. I would have brought the thing, but didn’t know you’d need it this soon.”
Tig crossed her arms. Ari really enjoyed making a show of his knowledge, forcing her to drag out every little tidbit. At some point, she’d stop playing his game. For now, she needed his help. “What is this gadget you’re talking about?”
He smirked. “A way to get Janey to spill the beans.”