Chapter Five
As I navigate the morning traffic on Harbor Boulevard, I drum my fingers on the steering wheel of the Momvan. Yes, I still call it that, even though it’s more of a rolling command center these days.
My youngest, Paxton, sits in the passenger seat beside me, earbuds in, scrolling on her phone.
She’s fourteen now, complete with teenage eye rolls and still obsessed with unicorns, though I still catch flashes of the little girl she used to be when she giggles at something or slips her arm through mine on the couch at night.
“Remember, Mom,” she says, pulling out one earbud as we near her middle school, “I’ve got my book club today. Pick me up at four, not three.”
“Got it, two o’clock it is.” I flash her a grin.
She slaps my shoulder. “Mom!”
“Oops, sorry. I mean three o’clock.”
“Ma! Four o’clock!”
“If you insist. Be good, kiddo.”
She snorts. “I’m always good.”
“What book are you ladies discussing today? More vampires?”
“Is there anything else?”
“Not for me.”
She gives me a smirk as she hops out, and for a second, I can’t help smiling back. As I drive off, I wave at her and shout, “See you at five o’clock!”
“Maaaaa...” she squeals, her voice trailing behind me. I continue waving out the window.
As I continue on, a stray thought drifts through my mind, unbidden: my life really would make a good series of paranormal novels.
Ya think?
The truth is, I’ve heard rumors. Whispers that somewhere out there, a series does exist, stories about me, written by a creator in his own right.
That these thoughts of mine aren’t really mine at all, but his, spilling across a keyboard, across a screen, from his world into mine. Hell, directly into my head.
Who told me that nonsense?
None other than Norm the psycho artificial intelligence himself... yeah, the AI who nearly created a nuclear meltdown in Orange County. He once claimed that my world paralleled the writer’s own creations; that I existed here in flesh and blood in my world, but as ink, pages, and words in his world.
Once, not too long ago, I might have crossed the veil between worlds... at a Starbucks, of all places, where I met a healthy-looking blond guy who seemed just as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
What did Norm say of that meeting? That it was chronicled in a short story called “Blue Moon.” As in, once in a once-in-a-blue-moon encounter.
Well, whoever you are, Mr. Rain (yeah, I know your name), for the love of all that is holy, please don’t kill me off any time soon. I’ve got three kids, for goodness’ sake. I kinda want to see them grow up, get married, and give me grandkids.
Hey, there’s a story idea for you, buster: Grandkid Moon. Go ahead, slap that up for pre-order!
Also, if you’re listening (and I know you are), I could use a few easy cases that pay well. Just saying.
And while you’re at it… any chance you could give me a clue about what the hell’s going on with these dinosaur bones?
There’s gonna be something weird, right?
Like, are they gonna come alive or something.
Am I right? Or is someone using them for black magic?
Not sure where that black magic idea came from, unless it came from you, Mr. Rain.
Okay, I’ll shut up now.
…Wait. Did you just tell me to shut up?
You better not have, mister, because I will find you and smack you across the room. You think you can contain me? Think again.
(Sorry. Please don’t have a vampire hunter shoot me with a silver bullet.)
With a shake of my head at my crazy life, I pull into traffic.
A quick stop at Starbucks gives me the last boost I need—mostly because I siphoned energy off those already partaking from a big cup of coffee, and then I’m off to Craig Regional Park, a short drive away.
I don’t siphon energy off anyone working, or anyone ordering.
In the least, I give them a chance to get some caffeine in them.
I would be what’s called a considerate energy vampire.
Alas, I don’t see the blond writer this time. I suspect I may never see him again. Probably for the best. I get a sense that he wants me to think that he was cute, but I can’t, just no. Isn’t that like incest or something? I think J.R. Rain might have a few screws loose.
Meanwhile, the parking lot to Craig Park is half full (I’m ever the optimist) when I arrive. I park in the visitor lot, snag my coffee, and head toward the paleontology center. The morning air is crisp, the kind of Southern California autumn that feels more like a polite chill than actual cold.
Inside the facility, I’m greeted by the familiar face of Dr. Jill Fenwick, who looks slightly less frazzled today. She’s in a similar professional outfit; though she’s swapped her blue blouse for a pale lavender one.
“Good morning, Samantha!” she says exuberantly, stepping forward with a warm smile. “I didn’t know you would come by so early.”
I shake her hand. “Please call me Sam, and I figured I’d get a feel for the place. I’d like to speak with Adam Lowell, in particular, if he’s available.”
Her cheeks pink slightly. “Adam? Yes, he’s here. He’s been buzzing around all morning, actually. He’s, um, very passionate about the exhibits.”
I smile faintly. “So I’ve heard.”
Jill raises her eyebrows, curious, but I don’t offer any more.
She leads me through the center, past the main lobby where a towering replica of a raptor skeleton looms overhead.
We move through various rooms lined with fossil displays, ancient teeth, claws, and polished bones, all gleaming under glass.
I take note of the security cameras at every corner and down every hall.
Dr. Fenwick gives me a running commentary about the park and paleontology center.
Apparently, it was founded in the early 1980s, when local paleontologists discovered a significant fossil bed just a few miles from the park’s current location.
The site quickly became a hotspot for fossil hunters, and its abundance of well-preserved specimens drew the attention of scientists from all over the world.
In response to this newfound interest, a group of paleontologists, geologists, and community leaders worked together to create a research facility dedicated to studying the area’s prehistoric past.
Dr. Fenwick continues, “The center’s primary focus has always been on educating the public about paleontology and preserving the fossils found here. It’s not just a research facility; we aim to make the science accessible, to get people of all ages excited about the wonders beneath our feet.”
Over the years, the center grew, eventually expanding to include not only state-of-the-art research labs but also an exhibit hall showcasing fossils and interactive displays.
One of the most iconic features of the center is its large dinosaur skeletons, many of which were discovered right here in the region.
“The fossils we find here,” Dr. Fenwick says with a hint of pride, “are from a time when this area was a lush, tropical rain forest, about 75 million years ago. The dinosaurs that roamed here were very different from the ones in other parts of the country.”
The paleontology center also serves as a key educational hub, offering workshops and outreach programs to local schools, which is how Tammy had known about it. The park itself has become a popular destination for amateur fossil hunters, with tours guided by the center’s staff.
The gallery is part museum, part research facility, all sharp lines and polished displays. It smells unmistakably of clean tile and well-maintained HVAC… but there’s something else, just faintly at the edge of my senses. Old bones, I’m guessing.
Since becoming a vampire, all my senses have sharpened, including my sense of smell. Probably true for all vampires, but it’s not exactly something to brag about. So yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m smelling those old bones.
It was probably for the best that I left Kingsley at work today. Really don’t need my honey buns trying to drag the raptor skeleton out into the park to bury it. Or rebury it, as it were.
Meanwhile, we find Adam Lowell in one of the side exhibits, carefully arranging informational plaques near a display case. He’s a wiry guy in his late twenties, glasses sliding down his nose, dark hair tousled like he’s been running his hands through it all morning long.
“Adam, this is Samantha Moon,” says Jill. “She’s the private investigator I told you about.”
Adam turns quickly, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “Oh, right! Nice to meet you.” He wipes his hands on his khakis and offers a handshake, which I take.
As he explains the fossil cataloging process, I quietly sip my coffee and dip into his mind.
Hey, what can I say? It’s one of the advantages of being who I am: a vampire, yes, but not of the bloodsucking variety.
I drink energy when I need it. And when I’m focused, I can press a little deeper, skimming thoughts, nudging emotions, sensing the undercurrent of who they really are and what they might know.
In this case, Adam Lowell is an open book. He’s passionate about his job, eager to prove himself, and—unsurprisingly—he’s got a massive, unspoken crush on his boss. His every thought is layered with admiration for Jill.
No dark urges. No secret plans. No guilty shadows.
I step back gently, withdrawing from the light connection with his mind. “Thank you, Adam. That’s very helpful.”
He beams, eager to assist. Jill walks me through the rest of the vault setup, explaining how the malfunction hit the cameras and alarms all at once.
“Is everyone accounted for today?” I ask. “Any, ah, no-shows?”
She pauses, frowning slightly. “Well… our other assistant curator, Mark Healy, called in sick this morning. He’s usually here early, helping Adam with the inventory. I was going to check on him later.”
My senses prick slightly. Not supernatural, not yet, but something clicks in my investigator brain. A missing player on the chess board, so to speak. I take another sip of coffee, considering my next move.
“Mind if I get Mark’s contact information?” I ask smoothly. “I’d like to follow up, just to be thorough.”
Jill nods quickly, already pulling out her phone. “It’s with the folder I gave you yesterday, but let me grab it for you now... hang on.”
I smile faintly to myself. So far, no ghostly whispers, no dark masters, no monsters lurking in the shadows. Just bones, a theft, and likely human motives.
Ah, just what the doctor ordered. An easy enough case, I hope, with a fat payday, enough to replenish my dwindling funds. But... I’ve learned better than anyone that sometimes even the most ordinary of cases have sharp teeth hidden underneath.
And, wow, interesting. Jill has a thing for Adam. Hmm. Maybe I should encourage these two nerds to get it on. A quick glance at her ring finger (bare) and a light dip into her thoughts confirms she’s not married. She knows Adam to be single, too.
So, I leave her with a strong suggestion to flirt a little more with Adam when the moment feels right.
Okay, that’s enough.
Whatever happens next is up to the two dino nerds