Kiss of Death (16 page)

“And your last trip to one of the clubs?”

“Malediction Society, eight days ago.” She pauses, trying to figure out times. “Yeah, that's right. Sherry wanted to go to Ruin on Friday night, but I said no. When she was trying to convince me to go, Sherry said she wondered what it would be like to be bitten. That maybe it'd be sexy…turn her on.”

“Were those her exact words?” Sloan breaks her silence.

“Man…
exact words?
” She takes a few moments. “Yeah, she said it sounded pretty sexy and that it might
be a turn-on. I think she mentioned ‘exciting,' too. It was like a one-minute conversation.”

“We understand. Thanks, Desiree.” A glance at my watch tells me class is about to end, and I want to be waiting for Carrington, rather than giving him any more time to mentally rehearse his responses.

I stand up. “Do you think Sherry went to Bar Sinister on Saturday night? That maybe she was going there with her mystery date?”

“It's possible, I guess. She was pretty keen.” Desiree stands up.

“Do you think her date was a Goth?”

“It would explain why she didn't tell me who she was hooking up with…she knew I wasn't crazy about the whole scene.” She rubs her hand along her thigh. “So, yeah, it's quite possible. Maybe she was even planning on being his donor that night.”

Sherry ended up being someone's donor all right, but I keep my mouth shut and start us walking back to the Black Box Theater.

“Anything else you think may be relevant?” Sloan asks. “I'm sure I don't need to remind you that we will find out if there's anything else you're hiding.”

“You know everything now.” She bites her fingernails. “I've got Jeffrey into so much trouble.”

“You've done the right thing, Desiree. Your information may be crucial to finding Sherry's killer.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “We want to find whoever did this to her…justice for Sherry.”

She nods. “I want you to nail the bastard.”

Now that's more the reaction I'd expect from a victim's best friend.

Students spill from Macgowan Hall into the gardens and I quicken my step. Back in the theater, I'm happy to discover that Carrington's running overtime. He sits on the stage, his students all seated in the first few rows of
the small theater—a captive audience. He looks up as we enter and gives us a nod. If he's squirming in his boots he's not showing it. It doesn't look like he's worried that Desiree's spilled the beans about his affair with Sherry. Or maybe he assumes Sherry didn't tell anyone…even her best friend.

He wraps up the class by reminding everybody that next week is the two-minute monologue. While some of the students file out immediately, other pupils anxiously await a few minutes of his time. Sloan and I hold our ground at the door, until Desiree's front-row friends flow into the corridor, Desiree in tow. There are still four students, all female, with Carrington, but we wander down the steps and sit a few rows back, waiting for him but eavesdropping at the same time. While all the students have questions about the monologues, I get the feeling that some of them are just using that as an excuse to talk to Carrington.

It's ten minutes before Carrington is finally done. “Sorry, ladies.”

I smile. “That's fine. I can see you're in demand.”

He nods. “I'm committed to my students, and giving them time is how they improve.”

“Of course.” But I think it's a mutually beneficial exchange, with Carrington getting more than his fair share in ego boosts. Not to mention lining up women for his extramarital activities.

“So, you'd like to talk to me? About Sherry?”

“Yes.”

“This room's free or my office is just around the corner if you'd like to talk there.”

I'm interested in Carrington's office—it will give me a better insight into the man. “Your office would be great.”

“Right.” He gathers up a few files and leads the way.

As we walk along the corridors, Carrington receives
a healthy amount of female attention. Could he be having affairs with all of them? I doubt it, but I would be surprised if Sherry had been his only extracurricular partner.

Carrington's office is a strange mixture of modern-chic and old-world; like he's tried to marry the two stereo types of “professor” and “L.A. actor.” The furniture, which would presumably be standard college issue, is simply a large wooden desk with an office chair behind it and two comfortable but plain chairs in front of it. In the corner are a filing cabinet and a coat stand. But Carrington's personal touch is evident everywhere else in the room. Firstly, the walls are a shrine—to him. There are both color and black-and-white photos of Carrington on stage, with reviews and newspaper clippings framed and on display. There are also a few photos of Carrington on set; in one he's standing with Mel Gibson, in another Harrison Ford. The photos aren't recent—both Ford and Gibson look significantly younger. Harrison Ford's wearing the trademark
Indiana Jones
hat, so we're probably talking the first or second movie in the series.

Carrington follows my gaze. “That's on the set of
Raiders of the Lost Ark
. With Harrison Ford.”

I guess it would be some pickup line: I was in
Raiders of the Lost Ark
. But Carrington's holding on to the past, on to past achievements, and if anything it's amusing…or maybe sad. Not only has he placed the photo directly behind him, but he feels the need to name-drop, too.

“And that's Mel and me from the first
Lethal Weapon
.”

Given I don't recognize Jeffrey Carrington, his roles were probably small, but he must have been more than an extra to get a photo with the star.

I give him a little nod. “So, Sherry.” I'm silent for a bit, leaving space for Carrington to come in.

He obliges. “Terrible tragedy. That girl had talent.”

Sloan crosses her legs and leans into one side of the chair. “So we've heard.”

He shakes his head. “If it wasn't for that father of hers, she would have already had a blossoming film or TV career.”

“Her father was strict?” Sloan asks.

“When it came to Sherry's acting, yes. With his contacts and her talent she could have been famous and independently wealthy by sixteen. Younger even.”

“That's what she wanted? Fame and fortune?”

He puts his forefinger on his bottom lip. “Actually, no. She wanted to be an actor, a serious actor. I don't think she cared about the fame, and she certainly didn't need to worry about money.”

“I see.” I lean back in my chair and also cross my legs. “Can you tell us more about your relationship with Sherry?”

He moves uncomfortably in his seat, but I get the feeling it's a deliberate movement rather than an unconscious gesture. He purses his lips and then nods slowly. “I guess it'll come out eventually.” He takes a deep breath. “Sherry and I had a sexual relationship.”

“Really?” I force a small sense of surprise into my voice. “Was it serious?”

“No, definitely not. We'd seen each other a few times, but it was purely sexual.”

“When was the first time you slept together?” Sloan asks.

“I don't know. Couple weeks ago maybe.” He pauses. “Perhaps three.”

Desiree says four weeks, and Carrington says two or three. Not that much of a discrepancy.

“One thing.”

“Let me guess, you're worried we'll tell your wife.” Sloan doesn't hide a smile.

“My wife? Not at all. We have an open relationship. She knows I see other women.”

Now
Carrington's managed to shock me.

“It's the dean I'm worried about.” He leans over his desk and lowers his voice. “Strictly speaking we're not supposed to have such contact with our students.”

Guess he should have thought about that sooner.

“We'll have to see how the investigation pans out.” The smile's gone from Sloan's face.

He nods, but only seems slightly worried.

“Do you know how Sherry felt about your relationship?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“Did she understand it was only sex?” Sloan dives in feet-first, as usual.

“Of course. I made that very clear from the start.”

“Really?” Sloan arches her left eyebrow. “She told Desiree that you were soul mates. That it was only a matter of time before you left your wife for her.”

He laughs, but then tempers his reaction. “Sherry was smarter than that. She knew exactly what we had.” For the first time he's not so confident.

“You're sure of that?” He's not sure at all.

“I guess…I guess maybe she was falling for me. After our last…meeting I wondered if it was time to break it off. She was giving me the look.” He says it with distaste. “What look?”

He clears his throat. “You're right. She was blurring the line on our relationship. But I don't see what that's got to do with her murder.”

“We need to find out as much as we can about Sherry,” I say.

Sloan takes out her pen, notebook and reading glasses. “Including her sexual partners.”

He sighs. “Go on then.”

Glasses on, Sloan continues. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Um…” Carrington grabs a day planner from his briefcase and flips through it. “Thursday night.”

That's only a few nights ago—yet Carrington had to check? Maybe he's juggling a hectic social schedule. “You sure it was Thursday and not Saturday?”

“It was definitely Thursday.”

“Where were you on Saturday night?” Sloan asks.

“With my wife.”

“And she can verify that?”

He gives Sloan an odd look, suddenly realizing he needs an alibi…and that we'll be checking it. “Of course she'll verify it.”

Sloan asks for the wife's full name and takes down her cell phone, their home number and a business line.

I move on. “Mr. Carrington, are you currently seeing any of your other students? Or any other women?”

“How's that relevant to this case?”

“Jealousy is often a motive for murder,” Sloan explains. “Perhaps your wife or another woman you were seeing found out about your relationship with Sherry and decided to kill her.”

Carrington laughs. “Kill her? That's a bit extreme, Detective.”

“You'd be surprised what drives people to murder, Professor.”

“Of course, you're right. But I can assure you, I wouldn't be attracted to a woman that unstable. And even if I were, I'm smart enough to keep away.”

He's so very sure of himself. He's obviously been having affairs with his students for years and has the pattern down pat. It's possible he sees multiple women at once…. He's probably left a wake of pissed-off females.

I keep us on point. “Professor Carrington, you do teach acting. Isn't it possible that one of your girlfriends—”

He puts up his hand and says, “They're not
girlfriends,
Agent.”

I stifle a smile. Talk about semantics. “What should I call them?”

“
Friends
is more appropriate.”

Sloan takes over. “Isn't it possible that one of your
friends
or ex-friends was putting on an act? Pretending to be happy with a casual relationship but really harboring much more intense emotions.”

He leans on the arm of his chair. “I guess it's possible. I'm an extremely good judge of character, but no one's perfect, right?”

“Right.” Although I would be surprised if Carrington didn't think he was perfect.

“So, back to Agent Anderson's question, Professor Carrington. How many women are you currently seeing?”

“There was Sherry and one other. A freshman.”

“You're still seeing this freshman?”

“Yes.”

“Her name?”

“You really need this?”

Sloan just nods and gives him an icy stare.

He rubs his hand up the side of his face. “This is gonna get ugly.” He takes a deep breath. “Cecilia Plant.”

Sloan presses Carrington for her contact details and takes them down, too. “We also need the names of your other female friends in the past year.”

“What?”

“Professor Carrington, a young woman has been murdered.” Sloan is losing her patience. “I'm real sorry if this is embarrassing for you, but frankly I don't care. All I want to do is find Sherry's killer.”

He looks down. “You're right. I'm sorry. But I'm not embarrassed, it's just…messy.”

Of course, he wouldn't be embarrassed.

Carrington reels a few names off the top of his head, but has to actually go through his day planner and dig out last year's one to give us a complete list. By the time we're done, we've got twenty names and phone numbers.

His wife must be an understanding woman. “And your wife is totally fine about this?” I keep the incredulity out of my voice.

“We don't discuss the intricacies of our dalliances, but we agreed to an open relationship a long time ago.”

Obviously if both parties are happy with an open relationship that's okay, but it's rarely that simple. Most of us expect and want monogamy from our partners, and all attempts at open relationships that I know of have been dismal failures. Maybe the Carringtons are the exception. Maybe not.

Monday, 4:00 p.m.

W
e head back to the West LAPD station for a catch-up, with Sloan dropping me at a meeting room and then disappearing.

“I'll be back in a sec,” she says, halfway out the door.

I unpack the case file and my notebook from my briefcase and check my BlackBerry. Not only have Anton Ward, Teresa Somers, Paula Torres and our rogue four accepted my friend requests, but Damien Winters has also sent me friend requests on both sites. Interesting. I immediately follow the links and accept his requests. Just because Sloan doesn't seem to be making Winters a priority doesn't mean I can't. Sloan still seems more focused on Todd Fischer and Jeffrey Carrington, but I've got to follow my instincts and my dream, which means vampires. And given I'm not getting the murderous vibe off Anton Ward, maybe Winters is our guy.

I'm still waiting and flipping through the case notes when my BlackBerry beeps. Winters has sent me a message. Wow, that was fast.

The mystery girl. I saw you last night at Malediction
Society. Was intending to come and say hi but you disappeared so early. DW

I guess I was distracted. On our way out Mercedes and I did have a final quick look for Winters but we struck out. Guess we didn't look hard enough or long enough.

I stare at the message for some time, trying to work out the best response. Eventually I simply type:
Sorry I missed you. Had an early start today so decided to take off early. But I'm new in town and I'm really interested in meeting people :) Hope to catch up soon.

A minute or so later, Carey arrives, just as my BlackBerry beeps again. Another Facebook notification.

“Hey, Carey.”

“Hi.”

“Where's Sloan?” I ask.

“Credit card transactions just came in. She's printing them off.”

I nod and check the e-mail.
I'd love to meet you. Are you going to Ruin on Friday?

Friday seems like a long way off—I'd rather not wait another four days to meet someone I consider to be a potential suspect, but at the same time I can't force my contact with Winters. It has to be realistic.

I quickly type a response:
I'll be there. Look forward to meeting you in the flesh.

Sloan enters and sits down. “This is the last four weeks of credit card transactions for Sherry.” She hands Carey and me a set of pages each. “And the phone records were waiting in my in-box, too. I haven't had a chance to look through them yet.” She hands us more copies.

We're all silent for a few minutes as we scan the phone records.

“Sherry was making extremely short calls to one number over the past week,” Sloan says. “Each call only lasted a few seconds.”

Carey nods. “Looks like there are about forty to that number alone.”

“I wonder…” Sloan lets out a whistle. “If that's one of Carrington's numbers…” She flips through her notebook. “Bingo. It's his home number.”

Carey looks up from the pages. “Mrs. Carrington must have been pissed.”

Sloan nods. “And jealous. And jealousy's one of the most common motives for murder…when it's personal.”

I lean back in the chair. “It certainly looks like Sherry was causing a few problems for Carrington.” But motive for murder? Not according to my dream.

“I'll say.” Carey shakes his head. “I can't imagine what my wife would do if another woman was calling me eight or nine times a day…”

“No.” Sloan pauses. “And the fact that Sherry was calling the home number means she could have been targeting the wife, harassing
Mrs.
Carrington.”

“It's possible Carrington didn't know who the hang-ups were from. The guy gave us a list of twenty
special friends
—” I mark air quotes “—from the past year. As far as he was concerned, it could have been any one of them.”

“That's some booty call.” Carey shakes his head. “I have enough trouble with one woman…why add to your stress levels?”

“I'll tell your lovely wife that next time I see her, Detective,” Sloan fires back.

Carey smiles.

Sloan stares at the ceiling and drums her fingers on the phone records. “In terms of jealousy as the motive, any one of Carrington's lovers, past or present, plus his wife, could have wanted Sherry dead.” She pauses. “But then we've got the bite marks. I know jealousy doesn't fit the crime scene, but we need to keep an open mind. It's possible that the whole scene was staged, to divert
our attention from a jealous woman to the vampire and Goth community.”

“Don't forget, we now know for sure that Sherry was into the Goth scene. Todd and Desiree both corroborate that.” I turn to Carey. “Desiree and Sherry were doing research for an acting assignment, but Desiree reckons Sherry was legitimately interested in being a donor.”

Carey runs with it. “So you're thinking she acted out her fantasy at Bar Sinister on Saturday night?”

“Maybe.”

“What if the bite was
independent
of her death?” Sloan's hands start talking. “She goes to Bar Sinister, indulges her donor fantasy and then is killed a couple of hours later, by Fischer, Carrington, Mrs. Carrington or someone else.”

I shake my head. “Frost would have picked that up.”

“Maybe. But it's worth a phone call.” Sloan dials Frost's mobile number from the meeting room phone. After a little bit of chasing, we eventually track her down to an autopsy room.

“Frost speaking.”

“Hi, Doc. It's Detective Sloan. Sherry Taylor…any chance the puncture marks on her neck were made before her death? Like an hour or two before?”

Silence, then: “The wound was fresh and didn't show any signs of healing. But it is possible it was an hour before death, and that the healing process didn't have time to kick in properly.”

“Thanks, Doc. But no more than an hour?”

“Unlikely.”

Sloan thanks Frost again and hangs up. “So it's possible.”

For the first time Sloan's actually got me wondering. After all, I have made some assumptions when it comes to my vision. Sherry was running through the woods with vampires on her tail, but what if she was a willing
participant? It could have even taken place
before
she met Todd. That could explain her sexual behavior toward him.

I think it through. Is it possible? Probable? Realistically, if she was bitten that night, it's more likely to have taken place at Bar Sinister. It seems elaborate, to say the least, that she was in Temescal Gateway Park playacting at being a vampire victim, then met Todd at Santa Monica, and then just happened to come back to the park. And I'm fairly certain my dream took place in the park—it would be too coincidental to have another location with a similar landscape. So I'm back to my original hypothesis—vamps killing Sherry in a ritual.

I let out a forceful gush of air. “It's frustrating that we can't confirm blood loss as the cause of death.” This is a problem no matter who our killer turns out to be.

“Guess science and medicine do have some limitations.” Sloan scribbles something in her notebook and then looks up. “The tox screen's due back tomorrow, so maybe that will give us some answers.”

“It'll be interesting to see if Sherry was drugged. There's no evidence she was forcibly restrained, so did she just lie still while someone bit her?”

“Drugs would fit,” Carey says.

I glance over at the whiteboard in the room. I always like working on a whiteboard when I'm on a case. It helps me to visualize and document a case and gives me a sense of the bigger picture. I stand up and grab a whiteboard marker, writing up
Potential Suspects
as the first column's heading, then
Motivation
for the second column. I start the suspect list off in the vampire community.

Anton Ward/After Dark

Damien Winters and his clan

Rogue vampires x 4

Other vampire/vampire group

In the
Motivation
column, I put a large parenthesis
around the four suspect groups and under motivation write:

Ritual (death intended)

Ritual (accidental death)

Nonritual attack

“So this is what we're looking at so far. If it's someone in the vampire community we're most likely talking about a ritual. Still, it's also possible it's a nonritual attack.”

Carey's written the list down in his notebook but looks up. “How does the circle of lights fit in?”

I lean on a nearby chair. “That would indicate ritual. Definitely.”

Sloan shakes her head. “Heeler's not a reliable witness.”

“I agree he's not the best witness in the world, but we've still got the bite marks and Sherry's recent activities in the Goth scene. They're compelling evidence.”

Carey leans forward. “And we know Ward and After Dark use the parks for rituals.”

“Exactly,” I say, even though panic rumbles in my stomach. Not Ward…it can't be Ward. I move on to the next possibility on my list, Damien Winters.

“Then we have Winters. Another player in the vampire community, and someone who also has a group of followers who are potential accomplices. The motivation is the same.” I take a breath. “Next on the list is our rogue foursome. An FBI tech managed to get their real names for me and has done our initial DMV search and criminal record checks.”

“And?” Carey's interested.

“From what Cheryl said the leader of the group is this guy.” I pull out a photo from the file. “His name's James Logan. And he certainly does have a colorful past.” I flick through my file for Logan's criminal record. “Assault, robbery and even a charge of rape that was dismissed in court.”

Carey runs his hand along his jaw. “So we've got someone with a violent past.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And what about the other three in his group?” Sloan only sounds slightly interested.

“Patricia Peters and Jake Oliva are clean, but Jon Eriksson was a co-accused on the assault and did two years.” I pace a little. “They've all accepted my friend requests on MySpace and Facebook under my Veronica alias.”

“I'll make sure we interview them in the next twenty-four hours.” Sloan gives a curt nod.

I manage a smile and move on to her prime suspects. “Okay, next is Todd Fischer, the ex.” I write his name on the board. “He claims to have seen Sherry in Santa Monica between midnight and one in the morning.”

“Right at the start or our time-of-death window.” Sloan rallies her case.

“Yes.”

“And the motive could be jealousy. Maybe Fischer found out that Sherry's interest in her professor had turned sexual.”

I nod and write
Jealousy
in the
Motivation
column beside Todd Fischer's name.

“Fischer had the motive and opportunity,” Carey says.

“If it was Fischer, he staged it to look like a vampire attack. And according to him, the first he knew of Sherry's involvement in the Goth scene was when she turned up to their meeting decked out in Goth clothes. Not much time to plan a murder.”

“The magic words.” Sloan smiles. “
According
to Fischer.”

Sloan's right, of course. It's always the same with the people we interview—they may be telling the truth, omit
ting key information, or lying outright. And it's up to us to find out.

I put myself on the line. “I think Fischer was straight up with us.”

“Don't forget, we may have his DNA on the body, at the scene.”

“Yes, but that's circumstantial evidence. We'd need more than that, a lot more.”

“Circumstantial or not, I'll be paying Mr. Fischer another visit. I want to see his reaction to the news that Sherry's so-called crush on her acting professor had become a sexual relationship.”

Even I'd like to see his reaction to that one. I often get frustrated when law enforcement develop tunnel vision on a case, so I'd better make sure I'm not guilty of that myself.

“You're right. That would be interesting.”

Sloan nods. “Plus we still can't discount the possibility that Sherry was bitten a while before she died, maybe before she met Fischer.”

I grimace. It's the cause of death that's tripping us up.

I move on. “Next is Carrington.” I write his name on the board under
Potential Suspects.

Sloan runs with it. “He claims that he had a casual, purely sexual relationship with Sherry, but that's only his side of the story. Perhaps they had something going that was more serious, or maybe Sherry was becoming a problem for him. Forty calls over one week, including ten calls in one evening, sure sounds like a problem to me.”

“So he decided to kill her?” Carey rubs his chin. “It's not exactly the most efficient way to get her out of his life.”

Sloan shrugs. “People do crazy things for love, for sex. Or to protect a marriage.”

I nod and write up
Bunny boiler
as Carrington's motivation.

Sloan laughs.

“What? I don't get it?” Carey looks to Sloan and me for an explanation.

Sloan shakes her head, still chuckling. “Carey's too young.” She turns to him. “Go rent
Fatal Attraction
. A man has an affair and when he tries to end it the woman goes a little psycho on him.”

“A little?” I let out a small snort.

“Okay, a lot. She ends up boiling the family's pet rabbit,” Sloan explains. “Bunny boiler.”

“Right.” Carey still isn't laughing.

“We also need to look at Carrington's wife and all the women he's been with recently that may have been jealous of Sherry,” Sloan says.

Despite my reservations about one of Carrington's women as the perpetrator, Sloan's right. I write up
Carrington's wife
and
One of Carrington's girlfriends
on the board. In the
Motivation
column I write
Jealousy
.