41. Closing In
Chapter 41
Closing In
Sierra Escondida—Around the same time
A fter dusk, Tig raced to the police station. According to Jayden’s text message, he’d completed the compilation of client names, usernames, recent bets, and, from the second notebook, phone calls Petar made to clients about the silver stake.
Except Jayden wasn’t there. Instead, a god-awful racket arose from the squad room.
The source wasn’t hard to find. A metallic rattle came from the cage on top of the worktable. The rabbit set her teeth around two of the wire bars and pulled back and forth, causing the rattling sound. Tig walked over to determine the source of the rabbit’s discontent. The food dish was upside down.
Where is Jayden?
Something must have pulled him away after Maggie left for the day, and he’d confined Ernestine to the travel cage rather than her playpen area. In her anger at being confined, the rabbit had dumped her food onto the tray below the cage’s floor, where she couldn’t reach it.
Tig took a small scoop of alfalfa pellets from the plastic bin kept next to the cage. The rabbit crowded the door as she opened it, immediately burying her nose into the scoop to take a mouthful of pellets, chewing in a circular motion before she quickly attacked the scoop again.
“Patience.” Tig gently pushed Ernestine back so she could right the dish, but she underestimated the animal’s agility. The rabbit jumped over her hand, diving nose first into the scoop, creating a shower of pellets. The pellets bounced through the gaps between the cage wires, skittering across the squad room worktable.
Tig shook her head and took another scoop of pellets. This time, she held the rabbit back more firmly and filled the bowl halfway.
“There.” She released her, and Ernestine dove into the dish again. Tig scratched her behind the ears as the rabbit ate. “We will not tell Jayden about this, will we?” She stroked her fur a few more times, finally realizing the attraction of the warm, soft creature. “Don’t you also receive a carrot and blueberries with your dinner? Should I go get those?”
Ernestine looked up at her as if she understood, and tugged on the wire of the cage, rattling it.
“I’ll take that for a yes.” Tig found a bunch of carrots in the staff refrigerator and washed one for her. Jayden had always cut off the tops, but rabbits could eat the whole carrot, greens and all. Rather than slice it into small chunks, Tig lifted Ernestine out of her cage and sat her on the table, feeding the carrot to her as one might give a bottle to a baby.
Ernestine seemed content to stay in place, gnawing away, loudly crunching and chewing, until she’d made her way through the carrot and was working on the frilly greens, pulling the leafy stems into her mouth like a paper shredder, making short work of the carrot tops.
“You’re going to regret that,” Jayden said as he walked into the room.
Tig startled, feeling guilty over being caught caring for the rabbit after she’d repeatedly suggested they find her a new home. Just yesterday when she’d mentioned it again, Jayden had argued that Ernestine was an honorary police officer, given that a crucial piece of the case—the notebook—was hidden in her cage.
She glanced back at the rabbit to see her cute little nose wiggling as she chewed. There was no fighting it anymore. The rabbit would stay. That ship had officially sailed.
He gestured at the carrot tops Ernestine chewed on. “Janey warned me against feeding her too many greens. Gives her terrible farts.”
Tig looked down at the rabbit and tried to retrieve the last bit of the carrot tops, but Ernestine gobbled so fast, Tig ended with only a tiny pinch of the leaves.
Jayden chuckled. “You might as well let her have the rest. A small amount won’t make a difference now.”
The rabbit was standing on the table on her hind legs, nose in the air, trying to grab that last bit of greenery Tig held out of her reach. Shrugging, Tig fed it to her.
Jayden collapsed onto the opposite chair, bags under his eyes. How much sleep had he gotten if he’d finished compiling the data?
“Thanks for completing the spreadsheet. I was going to look at it after I fed our hungry mascot.”
Jayden scooped the rabbit from the table and cuddled her. “You can access the spreadsheet from your computer. I uploaded it to the confidential server we’re sharing with Ari and Cerissa.”
“Then I’ll leave Ernestine to your fine care. She was demanding dinner when I arrived.” Once at her office desk, Tig reviewed the chart and made some calls. Of all the people who’d learned about the silver stakes through Petar, five of them lived on the Hill.
The fifth had proven quite the surprise. Tig scratched her head when she read the name, weaving her fingernails through her short afro to find the itch as one question repeated itself over and over: when someone was living in witness protection, why would they place illegal bets through a bookie, one they had used in their past life?
She couldn’t come up with an answer, so she decided to interview the woman tonight. But before she left, she wanted to check the Mordida Gazette . She felt obliged to stay abreast of the story, given Liza’s last depressing update.
A quick online search took her to the current report in the series. Tig relaxed as she read it. The county inspector’s visit wasn’t as bad as staff projected—mostly because Cerissa and Luis had jumped right on the problem and ordered expedited shipment of the equipment they needed. Still, those fixes didn’t resolve all the issues raised by the newspaper reporter. The business had been in operation for over fifty years—long before Cerissa built Biologics Research Lab—and during those fifty years, BWDS only collected blood, and paid the hospitals and donor sites for the privilege.
So the article published today was the one Liza had warned the council about, accompanied by shaky photographs of Luis leaving in a delivery van from the warehouse on the public side of Sierra Escondida and driving through the gates.
Dammit! If this continued, the Hill might be in actual trouble. Council members kept sending Tig emails, asking what she was going to do about the newspaper reports. What could she do? She didn’t have the workforce to watch for photographers at the gate—even if it wasn’t a First Amendment violation for police to interfere with newsgathering. They needed a political solution, which the council had the power to implement—such as putting a non-police contingent outside the gate to mesmerize interloping photographers. Instead, panic ran through their email chain, the council demanding she figure out a way to fix the problem.
When would Rolf return? He did well at politicking and handling publicity.
She finished reading the Gazette article and scrolled past the social media links at the bottom. Some of the posted comments to the article screamed, “Vampires, vampires, VAMPIRES,” over and over with all sorts of emojis littering the screen, laughing with tears and with fangs.
If she gauged the response by these commenters, people in Mordida seemed to take the revelations as a joke. Perhaps all the vampire books, movies, and television shows had inoculated the public to the point they wouldn’t believe the evidence in front of their own noses. But the article closed with the promise of something special for the next in the series.
Oh joy. What could that be?
Tig groaned. While the comments suggested most thought the reports were a joke, the security guards at the Hill’s gates had already reported turning away a handful of people who wanted access to investigate the vampires. Only a handful, yes, but it only took one to cause irreparable damage if they ever made their way past the guards. Even if whoever was behind this didn’t succeed in outing all vampires, they were successfully harassing the Hill.
But why? The timing of the news investigation was suspicious, as Liza had noted. Was this part of some grander scheme involving Petar’s death? Tig now knew the stakes came from Inanna. Could the ancient vampire have lied about her motive? But what was her purpose for pointing the press as a weapon against them?
Follow the evidence. Stay in your lane.
The reporter was a problem for the town council, regardless of their emails demanding Tig’s assistance. Her job was to solve Petar’s murder. So, until she obtained definitive proof connecting the dossiers to his death, the newspaper reports were distracting chatter, and she couldn’t afford to be sidetracked.
Tig rose from her desk and stopped by the squad room. With the rabbit fed and contentedly resting in the larger playpen area, Jayden followed her to the parking lot, taking the passenger seat while she drove the white police van to the first four homes on the list, where he collected voluntary V-DNA samples from each, placing them in the small evidence safe in the back of the van.
Tig had purposely left Anna Balmer’s house for the last visit. Once they collected all the samples, Jayden could call Cerissa to conduct the V-DNA tests of the swabs, along with testing the remaining curly couch hairs—just in case one of the hairs Jayden had held in reserve turned out to be from Callistus.
Or should she call Cerissa now before the hour became too late? “Have Cerissa and Henry returned from their honeymoon?”
“Uh, didn’t I text you? Karen had emergency surgery in San Francisco. For cancer.”
Tig’s gaze shot in his direction. “What?”
“Ovarian cancer. She was in sudden pain on the plane ride back and, when they took her into emergency, discovered the worst-case scenario. Nicholas called me and filled me in—he and Marcus were there on business, and they took the call to release Henry and Rolf from their coffins. So, Cerissa won’t be home until Karen can travel post-surgery.”
“Did they get it all out with surgery? The cancer?”
“They got all they could. Apparently, it’s spread. Karen needs chemo as soon as possible.”
Damn the Ancestors. Rolf was going to be devastated. “Can’t the Lux cure—”
“No, their kind doesn’t get cancer. They’ve never researched a cure. I spoke with Cerissa while Karen was in surgery.” He sighed. “I don’t know if Cerissa will flash here to do the V-DNA tests tonight. I’ll ask, but don’t get your hopes up. She doesn’t sound like she wants to leave Karen. We may have to wait.”
“Understood.” Tig’s mind reeled from the news. As much as she wanted to crack the case, she understood all too well that such a devastating revelation might consume Cerissa’s full focus. Normally, Jayden would have told her something like this as soon as she woke for the night. Was he trying to spare her from getting sidetracked? Possibly—she didn’t always do well with reminders of human mortality. And she couldn’t interview Anna with the way her thoughts were racing.
As if he’d read her mind or maybe just her face, Jayden reached over and squeezed Tig’s hand. “I know these things can be difficult for you. But I’m right here, Tig, and I’m fine.”
She signaled, pulled the van over to the side of Robles Road, and killed the engine. Jayden had nailed the hard truth. The reminder bothered her because she loved him. She twisted in her seat to face him. “I—I think we should get married.”
He laughed. “Not the reaction I expected.”
“I’m serious.”
He smiled. “Aren’t you worried this mortal will die on you?”
“I don’t care how much time you have. I want you as my husband for however long you have on this earth. I want you to be mine in every way.”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “What would you say to eloping? Then we don’t have to worry about competing with Marcus and Nicholas’s wedding.”
“Don’t we have to wait until a year after we’re engaged? We’ll be well out of their way.”
“We could.” His grin turned bashful. “But I might have done some research. We’ve lived together long enough that we can ask the council to waive the rule. It’s in the town’s code. The one-year period is really to make sure mortals new to the lifestyle don’t run screaming out the gates once they realize what they’re in for.”
“You mean like the best sex of their lives?”
He yanked her hand to bring her halfway across the center console and then kissed her. “Yes, I meant that. So, since we don’t have to wait, what do you say?”
She leaned in for another kiss, this one feeling like a promise. “Deal.”
“Now, do you want to interview Anna, or go home? We can swab her tomorrow night. Without our resident scientist, we won’t be able to test the DNA right away.”
Tig took a deep breath. Something had settled in her. The fear of losing Jayden had dissipated in the evening breeze, and with it gone, her mind quieted. “Let’s wrap this up. Tomorrow night, we can start on the non-residents.” Her lips curled into a gigantic grin. “And we can start making travel plans to elope.”
In another ten minutes, they parked at the curb of a one-story ranch-style house. Anna’s was one of the older homes, built in the early 1900s, with a long porch and shutters, but the last occupant had installed central air and heat around twenty years ago, so living there wasn’t too uncomfortable.
At some point, the prior resident had removed the lawn and replaced it with bushy xeriscape and sand-tone pebbles—probably last year, when the town council offered financial incentives to reduce water use. A drought caused by the earthquake’s destruction of the delta levee system made all water even more precious. The fall cacti were in bloom, outstretched stalks lining the walkway with tubular orange flowers.
With Jayden at her side carrying an evidence kit, Tig strode to the front door, climbing two stairs to the framed porch, and gave a few loud knocks. The sound of locks turning followed, and the door opened.
Surprise washed across Anna’s face. “Hullo.” She still spoke with a Scottish accent and was shorter than Tig, with a slight build, white skin, and dark blond hair done up in a French twist. “What are ye doing here on my front porch?”
Tig had worn her officer’s uniform and removed her cap in greeting out of courtesy. “We need to speak with you, please. May we come in?”
“Aye.” Anna stepped aside, making room for them. “Did something happen?”
Her question sounded sincere. “Let’s sit down and I’ll explain.”
Anna had done a nice job redecorating the living room with minimalist furniture. Tig took the offered seat on a narrow dark-blue couch and wedged her big feet under the coffee table, which was a bit too close to the couch.
Of all her physical traits, she hated her feet the most. Her first husband had teased her mercilessly about their size. Of course, the tactical boots she now wore daily didn’t exactly make her feet look any daintier. But what else would she wear when on duty? The shiny oxfords of her dress uniform? Too impractical.
Jayden took the seat next to her. She hoped he wouldn’t want her to wear high heels for the wedding. They never looked right on her. Maybe ballet slippers or low-heeled sandals would be a suitable compromise for the ceremony. They were what she usually wore with formal dresses.
Once Anna settled across from them, Tig looked up from the computer tablet she balanced on her knee. “You may have heard that someone murdered Petar Petrov in Mordida.”
Anna frowned as she shook her head. “Aye. Though I cannae believe it. ’Tis terrible. I spoke with him last week.”
“He performed his magic act at Cerissa and Henry’s reception and, after spending an extra night in Mordida, was then killed. You weren’t at the wedding, right?”
“They dinnae invite me. But I dinnae expect one. I don’t ken them well.”
“But you knew Petar.”
“Aye. He’s my bookie.”
“You still bet through him?”
Anna’s brow wrinkled. “Aye. Is something wrong with that? Gaea told me this community does nae enforce the gambling laws of mortals.”
Tig thought about how to frame her concern. The problem wasn’t betting. “I’m more surprised that you’d let Petar know where you lived when you’re still keeping your location a secret.”
“He dinnae ken. He pays me, or I pay him, through a bank transfer. He nae had my mailing address.”
“I see.” Tig jotted a quick note on her tablet with the stylus. “Did you call him, or did he call you, the last time you spoke?”
“He called me.”
That confirmed what she already knew from the rabbit cage notebook. But starting out an interview with questions she had the answers to was a good way to get at the truth. Catching someone in an early lie—or hesitation—revealed a lot. “Did you speak with Petar often?”
“Nae. That’s what made his call so weird.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked if I’d heard anything about a silver stake.” Anna paused, tapping a ruby-red fingernail with white tips on her closed lips. “I knew nothing when he phoned, but later Gaea told me that others had received one in the mail, including her. She mentioned it the last time we played canasta. I tried calling Petar, but he dinnae answer.” Her breath hitched. “Oh my Lord. He was already dead. How terrible.”
“Did you receive a stake?”
“Nae. I would have called you if I had. But nae package arrived. And I don’t get mail here. I use a Mordida post office box, and one of the Hill mortals collects it for me.”
“Who?”
“Luis, on the days he delivers blood. The post office is near a hospital where he picks up stale blood bags.”
Hmm. Should Tig warn Abigale and Luis not to tell anyone about Luis’s deliveries to Anna, especially with Callistus as a suspect? She would, just in case. “Who knows you live here, beside other Hill residents?”
“Nae one. I dinnae share my address with my old community. And not everyone on the Hill knows I’m here. Gaea advised me to stay on the ‘down-low.’ At least, I think those are the words she used. ’Tis a strange phrase.”
“Have you spoken with Callistus since you left him?”
“Nae. I want nothing to do with that bastard. I’m glad he’s out of my life for good.”
Anna had shared with Tig how Callistus beat, humiliated, and controlled her, how he’d forced her, his child, to live with him and remain blood bound forever.
“And he hasn’t tried to get in touch with you? Email? Snail mail? Text?”
“I changed all those—new phone number, new email address, and I already told you about the post office box.”
If Anna was telling the truth, then Callistus didn’t learn about Petar’s whereabouts from her. But Tig had to be sure. “Once you spoke with Petar, did you tell anyone about the conversation?”
“Nae. Why would I?”
A good question. But she showed no signs of lying, no evasiveness in her response, so Tig didn’t have a basis to push. “Um, Anna, can you think of anything that might help us discover who murdered Petar?”
“Nae, I’m sorry.”
Tig nodded. “All right. From here on out, you need to be cautious. I have reason to believe that Gabriel and Callistus are searching for you.”
Anna’s eyes widened, the pupils enlarging. “How can that be?”
“I can’t disclose confidential information. Just be extra careful who you talk to, who you let know where you live.”
“Aye. Count on it.”
“Okay, that’s all of my questions. Jayden?”
“You’ve covered everything.” He gloved up, then reached into the forensics kit. “We just have the swab to do.”
Anna’s eyebrows rose, thin lines shooting up above her dark blue eyes. “Swab?”
Jayden nodded. “A DNA test. We found evidence at the murder scene, and we’re trying to rule out everyone who spoke with Petar about the silver stake.”
“But vampire DNA—”
“We now have a scientist who has determined a way to decode vampire DNA.”
“Well, then.” Anna shrugged. “You need blood again?”
Again? Oh damn. “Did you donate when Cerissa was testing last year?”
Anna beamed. “Aye. I didn’t ken why, but I volunteered to show I’d make an excellent member of the community.”
Had Cerissa cross-checked the curly hair against samples in her database for potential maker-child relationships? It wasn’t like her to miss the obvious. “With Cerissa on her honeymoon, we can’t ask her if she still has your sample. We’d like to take another just in case.”
Jayden unwrapped a sterile swab. “A cheek swab will work.” He leaned across the coffee table. “Open up.” Anna met him halfway. He ran the cotton tip over both sides of her inner cheek. “That’s it.”
“Painless.”
“Yup.” Jayden snapped the tube together and dropped the sealed sample into the evidence bag.
Tig rose to her feet. “Thank you for your compliance.”
“Maybe you could put a good word in for me with the council?” Anna’s eyes pled her case. “I’m still waiting to hear from them on my residency request.”
Tig’s lips quirked into a half grin. Then she forced her face to take on a serious expression. “I’m happy to tell the mayor about your cooperation, to assure him you’re a good fit for the Hill.”
Anna stood then gripped and pumped Tig’s hand, relief in her eyes. “Thank ye so much.”
Once Tig and Jayden were back in the van, he laughed. “You skated that one.”
“Well, she helped with Oscar. But I’m not putting my reputation on the line to back her any more than I already have.” She sighed. “I almost forgot—have we heard anything on the CLSI from the phone company? I’m tired of waiting to find out if Callistus was in Mordida when Petar was.”
“Not yet. I called them earlier today, and they gave me some bullshit about having to restore backups—they had a data crash shortly after the murder.”
“Do you think—”
“That the killer hacked them?” Jayden chuckled. “If the killer is that smart, they would’ve left their cell phone at home. But I could ask Ari to take a peek and see if indeed the phone company is telling the truth.”
“Do it. We need an answer, sooner than later.”
“You got it, chief.” Jayden glanced at his tactical watch. “You know, it’s not even eight yet. Why don’t we go home and begin our wedding research? We want to elope someplace close enough that my parents can attend. They’d kill me if we got married without them.”
A giddy warmth spilled through Tig. She rarely felt that way; she ran more on the rational side, with anger at perps being the emotion she experienced the most. But something about Jayden brought out the soft side of her, and she loved it. They could take an hour away from the case to start shopping, couldn’t they? She squeezed his hand. “Absolutely.”