Blood Bath & Beyond (12 page)

He’d be able to have someone killed and the body hidden—easy as pie. The chilling thought was strangely reassuring. It only reminded me that Thierry was one hundred percent innocent here. He’d never be this sloppy.

So who else would do this and try to point the finger at Thierry?

As I walked quickly along the sidewalk and past the shiny black pyramid of the Luxor Hotel, although I wasn’t exactly sure where I was headed yet, I turned my attention to my phone to check messages—presently, zero. I’d thought I might hear from Thierry by text or e-mail, checking that I arrived home safely. Since there was nothing here, I decided his laptop and phone must have been taken away from him.

Bastards.
They weren’t giving him any chance to prove himself innocent, locking him up in that room without any way to contact the outside world. It was all up to me—and, given my worm’s-belly level of confidence this morning, that really didn’t ease my mind at all.

Again, I wasn’t watching the sidewalk and I did what I normally did in a case like that and slammed right into someone.

“Sorry,” I blurted out before I even saw who it was.

Jesus Christ stared back at me. Long white robes. Long hair, full beard, kind brown eyes.

“Are you all right, my child?” he asked.

Talk about a sign from God. “I—I’m fine. Thank you.”

He smiled as he rubbed the shoulder that I’d come close to dislocating. “You’re troubled, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. Very troubled.” I cocked my head to the side, surprised by what I thought I’d just seen. “Are those—do you have fangs?”

His smile widened to show off his sharp canines. “I do indeed.”

Jesus Christ was a vampire. At least—
this
one was.

Now that I thought about it, it wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility. Immortal, forever young, rising again after death, et cetera.

I peered closer at his pointy pearly whites. “Are they real?”

“What is real, my child, is what we
believe
to be real. Are you aware of the apocalypse? It is coming very soon. The signs are all around us.”

“The apocalypse?”

“Yes. Armageddon. The end of the world as we know it.”

I blinked. “Given the week I’ve had, that sounds about right, actually.”

“Take this.” He thrust a flyer at me that was printed on neon green paper. “Memorize it. The vampires are coming to kill us all and turn us into creatures of the night. All humans will be destroyed. But don’t be afraid, my child. It’s the next stage of our evolution. We must embrace it.”

“Okay, if you say so.” I stared blankly at the flyer, which was printed with type so tiny that it made even my supernaturally perfect eyesight go a bit squinty at the edges.

“They’re here in Las Vegas as we speak,” he continued, although he’d lowered his voice as he warily looked around the busy sidewalk. “Gaining strength and draining specially chosen victims. There have been six so far. The seventh will be today. Onward to thirteen, the original number of my disciples. Every one is important to lead us to the glorious future.” He clutched the stack of flyers to his chest. “I am here to personally witness the future of mankind forming in the shadows of the night.”

I stared at him. “I’m guessing that those fangs in your mouth are the stick-on kind, right?”

He nodded. “For now. But you must have faith that I am here to lead us all forward toward the vampire apocalypse. I do this purely out of love to help humans evolve to their next level of existence.”

I nodded. “So I’m going to…uh, leave now. I have other things to do. Great talking to you, though.”

“Go with God, my child. Go with God. I will next see you when we all rise again.”

I went. Whether it was with God or not, I couldn’t
say for sure. Talking to Vampire Jesus did help give me some new information, after I sorted through the crazy parts. It told me that the serial killings weren’t totally off the grid. People did know about them, even if it hadn’t been confirmed in the newspaper or anywhere else.

I hated to say it, but I honestly didn’t care about the serial killer. It had nothing to do with Bernard’s murder, so I couldn’t waste time worrying about it.

Maybe Thierry could talk to Markus one-on-one and work this out. It seemed as if they had some sort of history together, since Thierry knew all about what happened to his wife and kids that had helped to turn the enforcer cold as ice. Then again, when you had been around as long as Thierry, there probably weren’t all that many people you
didn’t
have some kind of history with.

I knew I was fooling myself. Markus was a black-and-white kind of guy—he wouldn’t see any shades of gray here. All logical signs pointed to Thierry being responsible for killing Bernard—he had the motive, he had the means, he had the opportunity. Now Bernard was dead and somebody had to pay for that.

Markus was going to kill Thierry.

I
had
to figure this out before that happened.

You’re going to fail.

No, I’m not.

Yes, you are. You’re going to let Thierry down when he needs you the most.

My inner voice had never been my biggest cheerleader, but today she was louder than ever before. I leaned against a wall and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Breathe,” I told myself. “Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.”

I couldn’t lose him. We’d only just begun.

Great. To make matters even worse, I now had the Carpenters song stuck in my head.

“Who could have done it?” I murmured. “Come on, Sarah. Think. Who could have hired that hunter to kill Bernard?”

“I have an idea or two about that,” a dry and familiar voice said.

I opened my eyes and hitched my purse up higher on my shoulder. Out of all the people on the sidewalk who were walking past me without a second glance, only one had stopped. And it was a very short one.

Victoria Corday looked brightly up at me, a sweet smile on her adorable face. Today she wore a fuchsia sundress and her sunlight-blond hair was straight instead of the ringlets she’d worn last night.

“What did you just say?” I managed.

“Let’s make a deal, puppy. You help me and I’ll help you.” She glanced nervously behind her. “And I’m going to need some of that help in about three…two…one…”

A man in a security uniform thundered up beside her, his face red and sweaty. “Thought you could get away from me, did you?”

“Mommy, help!” Victoria ducked behind me and put her hand on my leg as she peered out at the man. “This bad man is chasing me!”

“Darn right I’m chasing you, kid. That’s what I do with thieves.” The security guard glared at me. “Is she yours?”

Oh, hell. I really didn’t need this right now.

In that split second, I had to decide what to do next—not that I had a whole lot of choice here. I looked
down at Victoria, who had that “I’m an innocent child!” look—she did come by it honestly—painted on her face. And the security guard…he looked furious. It wasn’t hard to piece together what had just happened.

Victoria had handed in her beauty pageant sash for a license to steal. Well, Thierry
had
told her to find other ways of making money. I guess she’d started immediately.

“You help me and I’ll help you.”

Sadly, I knew I needed help today. A lot of it. And whatever bizarre form it came in, I wasn’t crazy enough to say no.

I fixed a serious and hopefully maternal look on my face. “What has my little Vicky done now?”

“Your little Vicky stole a necklace.” The guard glared at both of us. “A
sapphire
necklace. The salesgirl thought your daughter was so adorable that it would be fun to let her try it on for a second. And then she just took off. I’ve been chasing her for five minutes. Where were you? Don’t you keep an eye on your child? What kind of a mother are you?”

A lousy one, apparently.

When I was younger, I’d been an aspiring actress. While it hadn’t worked out so well, apart from a local maxi-pad commercial and a fleeting chance at a soap opera job via the casting couch—which I’d strongly declined—I still liked to think I had enough skill left to weave a bit of dramatic magic from time to time.

“I’ll have you know,” I said sternly, “that I’ve been looking all over for Vicky. I’ve been worried sick about her. I turn my back for one moment—and she’s gone! Do you know what that does to a mother? Thank you for returning her safely to me, sir. You’re a true hero.”

The guard faltered just a little. “I’m sorry you were so upset, but that doesn’t change anything here.”

“You’re right.” I put my hands on my hips and looked down at the tiny blond vampire, who fixed me with an innocent look. “Where is it, Vicky?”

“Where’s what?”

“You know what. That necklace you took. You can’t do that, honey. Stealing is wrong.” I shook my head and glanced again at the guard. “I swear, she’s like a magpie. You know how they’re attracted to shiny things? My little Vicky is just the same. She sees something glitter”—I cringed at the reminder of the cockroach motel—“and she can’t resist.”

“I’m sorry, Mommy.” She didn’t sound all that sorry. In fact, she sounded annoyed. She didn’t want to give back the necklace. I could see it in her little beady blue eyes.

“Ever since her father died tragically in that deep-sea fishing accident”—I sniffed dramatically—“and left us with nothing, she’s had this idea in her head that she should help me out with the bills. But this isn’t the way, baby. Now give this nice man back the pretty necklace and I’m sure he’ll forgive you. Won’t you, sir?”

The guard’s expression tensed, as if he was fighting his better judgment as he listened to my sob story. I never said I was a great actress, but I hoped I was good enough.

Finally, he nodded. “I’ll forgive you, Vicky. Promise. Now, hand it over.”

It took a minute. I waited there tensely until Victoria begrudgingly pulled the necklace out of her pocket and thrust it at the security guard.

“Fine,” she said sullenly. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Only a small tug-of-war ensued before she finally let it go. He glanced at me. “Keep a close eye on her from now on, you hear? She’s a troublemaker.”

“No kidding.”

When he finally left, Victoria looked mad enough to spit.

“Yeah, thanks so much for the help just now,” she grumbled.

“You’re welcome.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh, I know. I’m fluent in that dialect. You know you can’t steal things like that, right?”

“Says the woman whose sourpuss fiancé is up for first-degree murder.”

I flinched. “He’s innocent.”

She grinned maliciously. “Uh-huh. If you say so.”

I gave her a withering look. “I do.”

“Not something you’ll be saying if you don’t clear his name, is it? Dead master vampires don’t recite their wedding vows so well.”

“I really don’t like you.” If there was one thing this pip-squeak was doing, it was helping to raise my level of anger to match my anxiety.

“Feeling’s mutual, puppy. But you know who I did like?”

“Who?”

“Bernard DuShaw.” She wasn’t smiling anymore.

That took me a second to process. “You knew him?”

“Long time ago. Remember I said I got in trouble with the Ring once upon a time? Bernard was the
consultant assigned to my case. He helped me when no one else did. I owe him for that.”

I had no idea they’d met before. “Why wouldn’t he handle your case this time, then? If you had history with Bernard, then why would Thierry be the one told to contact you?”

She shrugged a tiny shoulder. “The Ring does what it wants even if it doesn’t make any sense. Bernard trashed some of my files last time to protect me, so our contact might have been swept under the proverbial rug. I’m not saying I was his biggest fan or anything, but he did me a favor once. The least I can do is lend a hand to help find out who hit his delete key.”

“You’re handling this all very matter-of-factly. Do you get emotional over anything?”

“Emotions are for chumps, puppy. I only cry onstage if it’s going to get me more votes.”

“Charming.”

“So you don’t think sourpuss hired the hunter.”

My glare returned. “His name is Thierry, not ‘sourpuss.’ Just like my name is Sarah, not ‘puppy.’ And, no, he didn’t do it.”

“I think you’re right. But I think I know who did.”

Derogatory nicknames forgotten, my glare turned into a gape. “You do?”

“Sure. It’s not too difficult to figure out.”

“It isn’t?”

“Not when you’ve been around as long as I have. I’ve seen it before. It’s so common that cops will always pinpoint a certain suspect in almost any murder.”

“Who?”

“The spouse, of course. Duh.”

I frowned. “Laura? But she adores him. She says
their marriage is like something out of a fairy tale. She would never want to hurt him.”

“Bingo. Isn’t that the best fake-out ever? I saw her a couple of times at the hotel over the last few days. She’s even shinier than you, puppy. It can’t be real—it’s just an act. She’s a black widow spider underneath it all.”

I considered this possibility. Wives
did
kill their husbands. Crime of passion, crime of wanting to get her hands on his money. You name it. Laura DuShaw—someone who’d reminded me so much of myself, a fledgling involved with a master vampire—
could
have hired Duncan Keller to kill the man she’d told me she was madly in love with.

And she also could have neatly pinned it on Thierry.

My anger immediately flared, but then reduced to a sick-feeling and uncertain simmer. “I don’t know about this. I really thought she was genuine, but if she isn’t…how would I even begin to prove she had anything to do with it?”

“You get her to admit it. For starters.”

Victoria was right about one thing—as his wife, Laura was definitely a suspect. But, still, I needed to find out much more before I’d totally believe she was guilty.

This little vampire, annoying as she was, might turn out to be the help I needed to prove Thierry’s innocence.

In fact, I was putting all my chips on it and rolling the dice.

I
’d been outside long enough that I was really starting to notice how blazingly bright it was today. Sunlight tended to exhaust me easily when I was out in it for too long—I’d recently turned into an indoor girl whenever possible. I pushed my dark sunglasses higher up on the bridge of my nose and tried to ignore it.