Chapter 5 #2
“Rug fibers in the victims’ hair suggests that the murders took place outside the graveyard.
The bodies were transported to create the…
tableau.” Thruppy pointed to Jack, and the image on the screen changed to a layout of the cemetery and highlighted points of interest. “I’ve spent the last few days looking into potential routes in or out.
The designated entrances all have security cameras.
Though the system is mostly used for tracking cars-in and cars-out.
They use it to make a count so no one is left in the cemetery when they lock up for the night.
The best we get is make and model. No license plates. ”
Thruppy pointed again and the screen changed showing a series of blurry screenshots of fences.
“Spring Grove is also entirely fenced. Though it’s inconsistent, some fence is chain link with barbed wire, some stone, some short, some tall.
Very unlikely that anyone brought the bodies in without the use of a vehicle. ”
“What about a hearse?” Fawzy flipped the ever-present errant hair out of the way. “People expect to find the dead in a hearse.”
“I thought so too,” Thruppy agreed. “But an unscheduled hearse would draw attention from staff. They know who, where, and when someone is going to be buried.”
“Then who else would go to a cemetery and not draw attention?”
From what Jack and Thruppy had shared on the screen, Spring Grove was one of the largest cemeteries I had ever seen.
It was more than likely a point of interest for many reasons, beyond those who had family laid to rest there.
“Do you have access to visitor numbers? Spring Grove might be popular with tombstone tourists. And anyone could drive in during business hours.”
The room was silent. Apparently, they were not familiar with the concept of visiting cemeteries for any other reason than remembering a loved one.
“Tombstone… tourists?” Kaatz looked like she ate a fist-sized bug.
“I’ve heard of them,” Todd offered, but as always, his words only held meaning for Jack and me. “People like to visit famous graves. Look at tombs. Walk in nature.”
Jack nodded. “People leave ‘I voted’ stickers on the grave of Susan B. Anthony. Some draw Xs on the tomb of Marie Laveau.” Jack must have done his research when taking on the ritual abuse task force.
People left Xs on Marie Laveau’s tomb, accompanied by spinning, knocking, and shouting, in various combinations in order to have their wishes granted.
Though the practice, and acts of vandalism, were only done by tourists.
Those with ties to religion or the occult knew better than to desecrate her grave.
Zhou typed something into her phone, her face dropped. “Spring Grove has tens of thousands of visitors per year.”
That was some sort of vindication, even if it didn’t narrow things down.
“Over three hundred cars went in the day before the bodies were discovered. Another fifty or so day of.” Thruppy then clarified, “Prior to discovery.”
“The victims were dead for at least twenty-four hours before they were found. But it doesn’t narrow down when they were moved,” Fawzy added.
“Three hundred and fifty cars…”
“With no license plates.”
Which meant it could be anyone. The room let out a collective exhale. The motivation in the room was dropping, and my bladder was already full. I needed to keep this moving. There was more than one way to track down who was responsible.
“The puncture wounds—the ones on their necks—were they the same on each of the victims?” I asked, crossing my legs.
“Placement was the same.” Fawzy was trying to read into my question. “But no, they are not identical. Why?”
“Because if those marks are bite marks, then we are looking at five people who would have been in contact with the victims prior to their death.” I was careful with my word choice.
“You don’t think the people who did the biting, if it is biting, did the killing?” Zhou looked at me with unabashed skepticism.
“Vampires thrive on secrets and exclusion. They wouldn’t want to draw attention to themselves this way.”
Zhou opened her mouth, perhaps in protest, but Jack took charge of the conversation. “What else have we dug up on this?”
“I found a few local and national ‘vampire interest’ groups on social.” Zhou changed gears.
“But from what I gather they’re all talk.
Most of the conversations are about movies, books, TV shows, fantasy encounters, that sort of thing.
It’s disturbing how many highschoolers are still into this stuff.
” I held my tongue. Vampires, the ones that mattered, wouldn’t be caught dead posting on social media. It was word-of-mouth only.
Fawzy jumped in next. “We worked with cyber to track down ‘vampires’ and their related behaviors on the dark web. So far, all we have been able to find are people selling their own blood for cash. But blood does not appear to be part of this ritual. Cybercrimes is still tracking activities related to vampirism, they will let us know if they find anything of use.”
“Good. Alright, anything else before we head to the Queen of the West?” Jack surveyed the team. Thruppy made to raise his hand. “And before you ask, Thruppy, yes, Cincinnati is the Queen of the West.”
Thruppy’s hand faltered, then lowered.
Well, if no one else had any questions, this was my chance to get us on the right track, hopefully without ruffling too many feathers.
“If we want to know what happened, we’ll have to go to Huntington.” Everyone stopped and turned to me. “West Virginia,” I added, feeling the weight of their gaze.
“The murders happened in Cincinnati.” Zhou was non-plussed. “Huntington, is what? Two, three hours away? Why there?”
“If you want to find out what happened, we’re going to have to ask the real vampires. They’ll be able to tell us whether or not their own were involved. Either way, they’ll want to find out who is ruining their brand.”
“You’re expecting us to believe that vampires exist?” Zhou’s brows shot up, looking to the team for back up, though none was given.
“I’m saying vampires are good business.” Even in avoiding vampire cults, it was well understood that modern vampires generated a lot of cash. “And they’ll do everything in their power to keep it that way.”
?
Mercifully, and much to my relief, the meeting didn’t last much longer.
We agreed on a course of action, half of the team, led by Fawzy, was headed to Cincinnati, while Jack, Todd, and I headed for Huntington.
Aside from the continued and increasingly vocal protestations from Zhou, it all went rather smoothly.
We left the next day.
I packed quick and light, though my packing list was somewhat unusual.
Of course, I had the basics—minus my knife, since I still hadn’t been trusted to carry anything on my person that might be considered a weapon, though it was a situation I planned on remedying—but I also packed an inordinate amount of food.
Mostly snack-sized. And mostly candy. The last thing I needed was to be in a car with Jack and Todd in the middle of nowhere and have my insides hollow out.
I also packed Lawrence’s letter.
The stupidly infuriating coded letter. I tried to give myself some grace, to not beat myself up for not being able to translate the numbers Lawrence left me into something meaningful.
My brain was still foggier than usual, but I knew I was missing something obvious.
He wouldn’t have given me something I wouldn’t be able to translate.
They were his last words for god’s sake, and he left them for me.
Me, the only person he wanted to know what the letter contained.
Just thinking about it seized my muscles with frustration.
Think, Delilah, think! But nothing. No sudden realization.
No ‘aha’ moment. Not yet, anyway. I packed it with the hope the key would come to me when I least expected it.
Something would suddenly click, or the fog would clear, and I could see what was right in front of me.
And then I’d have Lawrence’s final words on hand, ready to translate.