Chapter 4
“Interesting choice of garden decor. I would’ve gone with a gnome or a flamingo maybe, but a corpse definitely has a vibe,” Lore said as she approached the late mayor with a gurney.
“Sorry. I talk too much when things are awkward.” A pink blush crept into her cheeks, her weak smile transforming into a full-blown cringe.
Lore wasn’t what Arthur expected from a coroner.
Hers was also an elected position, and she seemed too young for the job.
Then again, everyone seemed too young to Arthur, even Salvatore, who was several hundred years Arthur’s senior.
Lore might’ve been older than Arthur. She wasn’t human either, after all.
In addition to her pointed ears and pink paintball-splatter irises, she had a bright smile and bubbly attitude—wholly inappropriate for someone collecting the body of a suspected murder victim.
A vampire, an elf, and a municipal employee walked into a garden…It had the ring of a joke, but Arthur was still waiting for the punch line. Time to do some damage control. This morning had really gone off the rails, but maybe he could still salvage things.
“Would anyone care for a beverage, or a snack?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Lore said. “Dead body isn’t exactly an accelerant for the old appetite—er, for me anyway. Not trying to yuck anyone’s yum.”
“Right, right. Nora?” Arthur turned to their guest, but Nora just shook her head, eyeing him with concern.
Rumble stretched and wound around Arthur’s legs as if checking him for injury.
Arthur had halfway hoped Rumble would get bored and wander back where she came from, but the wish came with a heavy dose of guilt.
Salvatore liked her, and he’d want to see her when he got back. And he would be back soon.
He had to be.
“Now, let’s see about getting this guy out of your way and onto my autopsy table.
” Lore smacked her hands together before kneeling beside the body.
Her visual inspection seemed more thorough than McMartin’s.
Every few seconds she stopped to jot something down in what appeared to be a neon notebook covered with dayglow dolphins.
Arthur got out his own pocket notepad and flipped it open to a clean page, but he couldn’t bring himself to write anything down.
Salvatore wouldn’t kill the mayor. Sure, sometimes he forgot to take mortal lives seriously, and he’d been in a lot of wars and had probably killed more people than Arthur cared to imagine, but he wouldn’t jeopardize their lives in Trident Falls.
Only Salvatore wasn’t the one who cared about staying in this town. Just that morning, Sal had practically dismissed Arthur’s plan to ingratiate themselves to the community here. But, no, Sal wouldn’t go this far. Would he? The mere thought made his stomach turn.
Nora stepped closer to Arthur. “You can go to the station, if you want,” she said. “I’ll wait here until everything is settled.”
“No, no, that’s quite all right.” Arthur’s throat felt oddly tight for an unworried person, entirely free from concern, not a smidge of unease to speak of.
“I couldn’t possibly make a guest do that.
You’re free to leave yourself, or—check out, if you want.
” Arthur plastered his most authentic and charming customer service smile on his face.
“I understand if it’s too unsettling to remain here. ”
“I’m not checking out.” Nora parted her lips as if to continue, but Lore stood and cleared her throat.
“Okay, looks like the sheriff’s initial assessment was correct.” She said the word sheriff with an edge of derision. “There’s a puncture to the external carotid. It was likely the cause of death, but I can’t say for sure until I do a full examination of the body.”
Arthur jotted that down in his notes with a sinking feeling. The external carotid was Salvatore’s favorite. But lots of vampires preferred that spot for drinking, and—
His rationalizations stuttered to a halt.
It would hardly be better for them if another vampire had done this.
Fearsome though Salvatore pretended to be, he and Arthur weren’t a particularly powerful pair.
Salvatore had been turned by a weak vampire, making Salvatore’s own potential for power relatively low, and though Arthur’s sire had been much more powerful, Arthur was still young in his undeath and hadn’t developed any powers of his own thus far.
If a hostile vampire had come to town, they would hardly be Trident Falls’ best protection.
Arthur shoved the worries away, forcing himself to sound like the polite host he was when he stepped closer to Lore and asked, “Is there any way I could see the autopsy report when you have it?”
Lore looked him up and down, hands on her hips, fluorescent notebook still in one fist. “Why?”
“I’m—well, this is embarrassing, but I’m a bit of a crime fiction aficionado. I’ve read a lot of detective novels, and watched the shows, and if Salvatore—he’s my husband—if he was involved, I…” Arthur’s rambling trailed off, a mercy for them both.
“I get it,” Lore said, nodding. “I’ll let you know what I find, okay? I won’t help anyone get away with murder, but I also won’t help the anti-paranormals in this town frame an innocent vampire.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said with a long exhale.
Lore gave him a small smile, then turned back to the body and began taking pictures. Arthur watched her work for a moment, feeling strangely detached from the brightening spring morning around them, and not just because he was hiding under his umbrella.
Rumble had the audacity to slink around his right leg, leaving behind a dusting of fur on his slacks. She peered up at him with her eerily perceptive eyes, then at Lore.
“What, hoping to become assistant coroner?” Arthur asked Rumble.
She ignored him, twitching her tail as she stared at the tableau before them.
When Lore was done, she packed away her camera and retrieved something black and shiny from the gurney. A body bag.
“Do you need any help?” Arthur asked. He glanced around the garden, noticing Nora had gone back inside. Probably packing her things, no matter what she’d said before.
“Nah, I got it.”
“I insist,” he said.
Lore gave him a wry smile as she shook her head. “Between you and me, it’s probably for the best if you don’t get your DNA all over this body. If they clear Salvatore, you’ll be next on their suspect list.”
“Just trying to be helpful.” Arthur ducked his head but cleared the way for her to remove the body on her own.
Lore was right, and making a good impression on her—or anyone—hardly mattered now.
With a murder on the premises, they’d be hard-pressed to draw any clientele save the slightly morbid or paranormally inclined.
Both unsettled him. He’d much rather be known for their unparalleled hospitality than their unusual immortality.
If the sheriff’s suspicions about Salvatore made headlines, no one in Trident Falls would want to associate with vampires again.
But that wouldn’t happen. The sheriff would see that Sal, for all his bluster and melodrama, was completely harmless.
The first time Arthur had met his husband, he’d thought Salvatore a complete fool.
He’d barely been able to see through the smoky haze of the club, and Salvatore had loomed out from the darkness, fangs bared.
It was that moment Arthur had begun to suspect he’d gotten the address wrong for the queer club he’d meant to attend.
“Do you want to be together for eternity?” Salvatore had asked him by way of introduction.
Arthur never would have guessed the answer would someday be yes.
Just as Salvatore had eventually charmed Arthur away from his life of corporate tedium and compulsory heteronormativity, he would find a way to charm Sheriff McMartin into…well…hopefully letting him go. McMartin was about as easy to charm as a doorstop, but if anyone could do it, Sal could.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Arthur asked nervously as Lore closed the van doors on George Roth’s body. “A coffee to go? Tea?”
“I’m fine, dude.” She held out her phone. “Give me your number, and I’ll text later about my findings. But if you turn out to be some kind of serial killer, I’ll be really mad.”
“I’m not a serial killer.”
The absence of a cereal killer joke from Salvatore loomed heavily as Arthur took the phone. It was the newfangled rectangle kind that was all glossy screen. “I miss when buttons were actually buttons,” he said with a sigh.
Lore snorted as she took her phone back. “Old man.”
Arthur’s heart sank as he watched her get in the driver’s seat and pull away, leaving behind only an empty feeling in his stomach. George Roth was on his way to an autopsy, and Arthur was stuck here with nothing to do but wait for Lore’s report.
“Ready?” Nora appeared at his side like a ghost, although he was reasonably sure she wasn’t one. He resisted the urge to touch her shoulder just to be certain she was still solidly among the living.
“Ready for what?”
Nora furrowed her brow. She was dressed a little differently now, with a smart blazer over her blouse, a purse on her shoulder that bulged with a huge three-ring binder. She twirled a set of car keys around one finger.
“I’m going to the police station.”
“But—don’t you have work?”
“My morning agenda was another meeting with the mayor. Kinda feel like that’s on indefinite hold now.” She gave him a lopsided smile that was half grimace. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”
“No, I couldn’t, I have to stay here and clean up, and—”
“What, do you need to get ready for more check-ins?” Nora said it so sincerely, Arthur almost wanted to thank her. She couldn’t know they had no more guests scheduled today. Or ever.
“I really shouldn’t—”
“You can step away. It’s an emergency. Your husband just got arrested. People will understand.”
“That’s no excuse to slack off work.” The response was automatic, but his shoulders slumped.