The Single Undead Moms Club (Half Moon Hollow series Book 4) (32 page)

You should be just as respectful to authority figures and public servants, even if you can now drain them dry. Because your kids are watching you. Also, because it’s still illegal to drain authority figures and public servants dry.

—My Mommy Has Fangs: A Guide to Post-Vampiric Parenting

I
woke up the next evening feeling oddly vulnerable. The bruises left behind by El Chupacabra were long healed, but the sensation of having a rake handle jammed into my cleavage remained.

Just after my assailant had flounced off into the woods, Wade had come rolling up in his pickup truck. Seeing me bent over at the waist and bleeding from my mouth (I wasn’t sure how
that
happened), Wade had hopped out of the truck and run to me. Even though I was already healing, he was furious that I’d been hurt while he was driving around gathering game booths.

He’d driven me home immediately, Pumpkin Patch equipment be damned, and helped me clean up before Kerrianne brought Danny and Harley home. As promised, we watched
It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
and drank hot cocoa. Well, I had blood mixed with a very strong dose of whiskey, but it made me feel nice and toasty. The kids fell asleep with their swords and throwing stars clutched against their chests. (Harley thought the Great Pumpkin was pretty sketchy and wanted a defense system.)

I should have called Jane. I should have driven directly to the shop and reported the incident. But I just wanted to get home, to see my son and try to feel normal. After I’d put Danny down for the night, Wade insisted that I send her a text, which I did after he watched me bolt every window and door in the duplex. Long, long after he watched me bolt the doors and windows . . . as in, right before I went to bed for the day. But knowing that she would come running, risking sun exposure, if I gave her too many details, I’d kept my text vague.
“Incident” after the Pumpkin Patch Party. Need to discuss tomorrow night and fill out report.

I was not proud of myself, but I just couldn’t face questions and paperwork at that moment.

The next night, I ran my fingertips over my forehead, checking for a head-butt dent, as I shuffled toward the basement stairs. On the bottom step, I heard the sound of a strange male voice coming from my living room. I didn’t think my feet touched the wood on my ascent back to the basement door. I shoved the door open and skidded across the linoleum on my socked feet. At the sound of Kerrianne’s calm, measured voice, I paused to take stock of the situation.

I poked my head around the corner and peered into the living room. Kerrianne was sitting on the couch while Danny talked to a lanky man with graying blond hair in a Half-Moon Hollow Police Department uniform. I recognized Sergeant Russell Lane from two years earlier, when I’d waited outside the emergency room for news after Rob’s accident. Lane had all sorts of questions about whether Rob had a drinking problem (no), if he had problems sleeping (no), whether he texted while he drove (yes, even when Danny and I were in the car with him and I begged him not to do it). He was not particularly helpful in terms of a public servant. Any comfort he offered me was in the vein of “I’m sure this wasn’t your fault, ma’am, just because he was driving home late from work and probably very tired from working overtime. I’m sure supporting his family didn’t lead to his untimely death.” (He was actually coming home from practicing with his employer’s softball team, but thanks for trying.) So really, I wasn’t very happy about the idea of him talking to my son without me.

I crept to the door, listening carefully from a position where Sergeant Lane couldn’t see me. Kerrianne noticed the movement in the hallway and opened her mouth to speak, but I pressed a finger to my mouth and shook my head. She nodded and focused on Sergeant Lane.

Danny was fascinated by all of the big-boy toys on Sergeant Lane’s police belt, poking at his Taser. “Can I play with that?”

“No,” the policeman told him. “Not until you’re at least ten.”

“OK.” Danny sighed, and then Sergeant Lane handed him his flashlight, flicking it on. “Cool.”

“Danny, how do your mom and your grandpa get along?” the policeman asked. “Are they always nice to each other, or do they fight sometimes?”

I raised my eyebrows. Had Les called the cops on me? I’d barely spoken to him the night before, and if anything, he was the one behaving in a creepy, vaguely threatening manner. Did this have something to do with the custody case? Maybe he was all smug and weird because he’d called child protective services to review my fitness as a parent. What the hell was this?

“They used to fight sometimes,” Danny said. “Papa said that I should be living with him and Mamaw, but Mom said no. That made Papa mad. And he said mean things sometimes, which made Mom mad.”

“How mad?” Sergeant Lane prodded.

Oh, Lord. This was not the time for Danny’s unique interpretation of conversations. Using my vampire speed, I ran into the living room and stood behind Danny. My son was used to this by now and didn’t so much as flinch. Sergeant Lane, on the other hand, stood up so fast he nearly knocked over the rocker he was sitting in, and his fingers were already flipping the safety catch from his gun holster. I closed my hand around his wrist to stop him. “That won’t be necessary, Sergeant Lane.”

“Hi, Mom,” Danny said as the officer’s blue eyes narrowed at me. “This is Russ. He’s a policeman. But he won’t let you touch his gun. I already asked.”

“Trust me, baby,
I
would know better than to touch a gun in a room with a six-year-old in it,” I told him, releasing Sergeant Lane’s arm as he tugged away from me. “Danny, honey, why don’t you run upstairs and watch some
SpongeBob
before dinner? I need to talk to Sergeant Lane.”

“Really?” Danny asked. “You never let me watch cartoons before dinner.”

“So it’s a treat,” I said.

Danny went tromping upstairs before I could change my mind.

“I’ll just go into the kitchen and warm up Danny’s dinner,” Kerrianne said, practically sprinting into the kitchen.

I crossed my arms and dropped my fangs. I wished I could say that it was some attempt to be badass, but honestly, I was just pissed off, and I hadn’t eaten yet. Sergeant Lane winced at the sight of my dental aggression, making me smile.

“Have you been questioning my son without me being present or giving permission?” I asked him. “I’m not an attorney, but I’ve watched enough
Law and Order
to know that’s not OK.”

“I was just making conversation until you woke up,” he said, clearing his throat.

“So I’m assuming this has something to do with my in-laws?” I asked.

Sergeant Lane smirked at me. “You could say that. Is there anything you’d like to tell me about your in-laws?”

There were a lot of things I’d like to say about my in-laws, but this was starting to feel like a trap. “Is there something
you’d
like to tell me about my in-laws?”

He sighed. “Mrs. Stratton, it is my duty to inform you that your father-in-law, Les Stratton, was found dead this morning.”

For just a second, I was sure I’d heard him wrong. I damn near fainted as all of the bones in my body seemed to go liquid. “What?”

“Les Stratton was found outside the Cellar, that vampire bar on the other side of town, his blood drained, with severe wounds to his throat. The coroner estimates his time of death around two
A.M.
Can you tell me where you were at two
A.M
.?”

Ignoring his question, because I wasn’t about to tell him that I was recovering from a schoolyard
chupacabra
ass-kicking, I sat heavily on my sofa. My brain felt like it was moving too quickly from this current crisis to what it meant for my custody case with Danny to how to handle telling my son. It was like my brain refused to focus on one thought for too long, because the overwhelming emotion I felt at the moment was gratitude. I felt bad for Marge. And I felt terrible for Danny, who had adored his papa. But overall, I just felt relieved that I wouldn’t have to spend every minute of every day worrying about Les trying to take my son from me.

What was wrong with me that I felt such ambivalence every time a Stratton man died?

And suddenly, a thought occurred to me.

“Did you just question my son about his dead grandfather without Danny even knowing Les has passed?”

“ ‘Passed’ isn’t exactly the term I would use,” Lane told me. “It’s too peaceful. Your father-in-law was savagely attacked. He was barely recognizable.”

“Keep your voice down,” I hissed. “I don’t want this to be the way Danny finds out that his grandpa is gone.”

“Again, that’s a very peaceful word for it. ‘Gone.’ It’s odd, isn’t it, that you become a vampire and suddenly the man who was trying to take custody of your son is exsanguinated?”

“Yes, it does seem odd to me, since I can’t imagine doing harm to Les. And it makes even less sense to me that you seem to think that I, a recently turned vampire, would kill someone in a distinctly vampiristic fashion and leave him out in the open where anyone could find him. That wouldn’t exactly throw the suspicion off of me, now, would it?”

Sergeant Lane’s face went slack for a second, as if the blatant oversight of motive had just occurred to him. Sherlock Holmes he was not.

“And where were you last night around two?” he asked again.

“I believe that I’m going to refrain from answering questions until I’ve contacted my local Council representative, which is a right guaranteed under the Undead Civil Rights Act,” I responded.

An expression of extreme irritation flashed across Sergeant Lane’s features. I smiled sweetly, my lower lip dragging on my fangs.

“I’ve already called them and explained. They’re on their way,” Kerrianne yelled from the kitchen. I turned my head toward my babysitter, who beckoned me from the hall where Sergeant Lane couldn’t see. I nodded.

“If you’ll excuse me for a second.”

I crept down the hall to the kitchen, where Kerrianne was standing, wringing her hands.

“Kerrianne, what the hell?” I hissed.

“I didn’t know what to do, other than call the Council, but none of the reps was awake yet,” Kerrianne said.

“Sorry, I’m just being asked to absorb a lot of messed-up information at once. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Badges just make me nervous,” Kerrianne groused. “Wade’s been calling me all day, asking me to check on you, even though I reminded him several times that you were kind of literally dead to the world. He also said to tell you that he went back this morning and put everything away so those PTA witches wouldn’t fuss at you. Only he didn’t say witches. I’m assuming you know what he’s talking about.”

I nodded. Wade had taken the time to put away the stupid Pumpkin Patch games in the midst of all the chaos I’d dragged him into. I was going to have to be careful, or I was going to fall head over fangs for that man.

I paced around the kitchen, watching Kerrianne cook and listening to Danny’s cartoons while Sergeant Lane cooled his heels in the living room. After what he’d done, I wasn’t about to make him any more comfortable in my home. How could this be happening? Les was dead, and I seemed to be suspect number one. What if I went through all of this only to lose my son when I went to jail for a murder I didn’t commit? Should I just run with Danny? Take him away from everything he knew so we could escape the scrutiny?

Maybe it would be better for Wade and Harley—and Finn, for that matter—if we did leave town. Maybe they would be better off if we just ran far away so my crazy didn’t contaminate their lives like some horrible movie virus.

I was considering escape routes to Mexico when I heard footsteps beating a staccato rhythm across my porch. Jane and Dick didn’t even bother knocking on the door. They just walked right in. They looked windblown, as if they’d run all the way across town to get to me because driving would have meant breaking several traffic laws. Aw. That made me feel loved, as did the heretofore unseen murderous expression on Dick’s face when he looked at Sergeant Lane.

I would not want to be Lane at this moment.

“Sergeant Lane,” Jane said, her tone supremely frosty. “How have you not been fired by now?”

The lanky officer looked less than thrilled to see my local Council rep. And that made me sort of happy. He bristled, drawing himself up to his full height, which was still about an inch shorter than Jane. “I don’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Sergeant Lane, you don’t think. From what I hear, you’ve been questioning one of my constituents without a Council rep present. And you compounded that dumbassery by questioning that vampire’s child without his parent’s consent.”

“You’re just peeing all over the Constitution from both sides of the Undead Civil Rights Act, aren’t you?” Dick growled.

“I’m going to need you to come downtown with me to answer some questions,” Sergeant Lane said, attempting to grab my arm. I sidestepped him, sliding between Dick and Jane.

“You do realize that our police station isn’t actually downtown, right?” I asked him.

“Just tell me where you were last night,” Lane spat.

“I was here, at home, with my son.”

“And I’m assuming that there’s no one who would be able to corroborate this?” He sneered. “That seems convenient.”

“I don’t know if it’s occurred to you, officer, but innocent people don’t need alibis. However, Wade Tucker and his son were here until about midnight, if that helps.”

Jane smirked and waggled her brows at Dick. He scowled and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.

“That still leaves you two hours to drive to the Cellar, kill your father-in-law, and get back to your house before the sun came up,” Lane insisted.

“Assuming, of course, that I would leave my son alone in the house, which I would not do. Ask Kerrianne. Ask anyone at Danny’s school. I don’t put my son’s safety at risk.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve already talked to people at Danny’s school. And they had some very interesting things to say about your change in attitude since you were turned. You’re more aggressive, less patient, mean-spirited.”