A Wolf's Heart (Harlequin Nocturne) (2 page)

Chapter 2

I
nspector Gabriel Bellmonte hesitated before getting out of his car. He stared through the windshield at the Nouveau Monde movie studio sign emblazoned in red on the side of the big building in front of him and wondered for the umpteenth time if he could pass this case off to someone else. But the superintendent had made it very clear to him that he, the chief investigator, needed to be on the case. It would be good press for the department and for the superintendent. Besides that, he really didn’t have the resources in his department to reassign the case. One of his top investigators, Olena Petrovich, was off on holiday with her newly vamped boyfriend.

Rubbing a hand over his face and sighing, Gabriel opened the door and got out. He went around back, popped the trunk and grabbed his stainless-steel crime-scene kit. It felt like a hundred pounds in his hand as he made his way up to the main door of the studio. He hoped he had the right building. There were over twenty on the studio grounds. The guard at the gate had told him to drive straight through and park on the east side. This was the east side.

He pulled open the gray door and went through. And immediately realized he wasn’t in the right building. Not if they were filming in a warehouse overstuffed with all kinds of things. Sofas and lamps, and what looked like painted scenery. The cool thing was he did recognize some of the stuff from films he’d seen.

He made an about-face and went out the door and back to his car. He swiveled around looking for building eight. He would’ve thought because of his lycan genes he’d never get lost.

“What’s the word, Gabe?” Sophie St. Clair, one of his investigators, fell in beside him.

“One of the actors has received a blood-splattered fan letter.”

“Who’s the actor?”

“Elise Leroy.”

Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Really? I love her work. Did you see her last movie? It was so good.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Everything all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Let’s just do our jobs.” He looked around at the buildings.

She pointed to the big white building on his right. “It’s this way.”

Without a word, he walked to the building, pretending he’d been waiting for her to show up all along. He grabbed the handle on the door and pulled it open. He went through the opening, Sophie following him in.

It was fairly quiet inside the film stage. Gabriel expected pandemonium considering who the victim was, but what he saw was fairly muted. A few stagehands mingled in the far corner. They appeared to be discussing something about the lighting. Other people, probably assistants and gofers, crossed in front of them, determination making their strides long and quick.

Gabriel moved farther into the building, eyeing everything and everyone as he crossed the floor toward the epicenter of the action—the actual movie set.

When he and Sophie stepped into the light near the soundstage, a big burly lycan with white-blond hair greeted them. “Can I help you?”

Gabriel flashed his badge. “Inspector Gabriel Bellmonte, NMPD.”

After his declaration, another man rushed toward him, his hand thrust out. “I’m Reginald Alcott, the director.”

Gabriel shook the vampire’s hand firmly. “This is Sophie St. Clair.” He gestured toward Sophie. The director nodded toward her. “Where is this letter?” Gabriel said.

“In Elise’s trailer.” He started to walk, assuming that Gabriel and Sophie would follow, which they did. “As you can imagine this has been very upsetting for Elise. So, please, if you can keep your questions to a minimum. I don’t want her any more agitated than she already is.”

“The show must go on,” Sophie commented, unkindly.

The director nodded. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“The only thing I can promise you is that we will do our jobs fully,” Gabriel said.

Reginald looked at him for a moment, likely trying to decide if there was a hidden message in there somewhere. “Good.” He gestured toward the long mobile trailer. “Here we are.” He knocked on the door.

The door opened and a petite young woman filled the door frame. “No visitors,” she growled.

Reginald ducked his head sheepishly. “These people are with the police.”

“Oh,” she said, and then eyed Gabriel and Sophie, taking their measure. Gabriel felt the telltale spark of magic skimming his body. The little witch was gauging them with her magic. They must’ve passed, because she said, “Okay. They can come in.”

She stepped aside and Gabriel and Sophie entered the trailer. The second he mounted the stairs, Gabriel caught
her
scent. It was remarkable, just as she was, and he’d never forgotten it after all these years. The scent had been imprinted on him long ago.

He moved past the entranceway and spied her in the corner, lounging on a sofa, her long blond hair cascading around her in golden waves. Her gaze fixed on him and he felt the immediate punch in his gut.

She smiled, her little kitten fangs evident between full pink lips. But the smile was sad and it didn’t quite reach her emerald eyes. “Hello, Gabriel.”

“Hello, Elise.”

Sophie gaped at him. “Oh, my God, you know each other? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I imagine it’s because Gabriel has put me so far out of his mind he forgets he knows me.” Elise took a sip from the liquid in the wineglass she was holding.

Gabriel wasn’t going to rise to the bait, although what she’d said wasn’t that far from the truth. “Dramatic as always, I see.”

“Of course. It’s what I get paid for.”

He set his kit down on one of the tables and opened it, trying to avoid a verbal sparring match with her. “Can we see the letter, please?” He snapped on latex gloves.

“Lily, could you, please?” Elise nodded toward the petite dynamo who had opened the door. She must be Elise’s personal assistant and guard dog.

Lily handed Gabriel an unfolded white piece of paper. He took it and laid it flat on one of the tables on thick plastic sheeting that Sophie had prepared.

Even at first glance, the letter wasn’t a typical fan letter. The letters forming the words had been cut from various magazines and periodicals and glued together so that there was no handwriting to analyze.

Then he read the words.

She is gypsy, will not speak to those

Who have not learnt to be content without her;

A jilt, whose ear was never whispered close,

Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her

He looked up at Elise. “Do you recognize this?”

She shook her head.

“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard to find. We’ll just plug the verse into Google, and we should find it, no problem, if it’s from a literary source.”

“Maybe it’s original,” Sophie suggested, reading over Gabriel’s shoulder.

“It might be, but I highly doubt it. These types of people are rarely original.” He peered down at the red spots near the bottom of the page. It could’ve been dark red paint or ink, but it wasn’t. The odor was unmistakable.

He reached into his kit, took out a large Q-tips and rubbed it over one of the spots, the largest one. Then he retrieved a small plastic bottle of alcohol, the chemical phenolphthalein, and hydrogen peroxide. He dripped two drops of alcohol on the swab, then the phenol and finally the peroxide. The tip turned a purplish-pink.

“Definitely blood present,” he said as he held the swab up for Elise to see.

She paled visibly.

“Could be animal blood. We won’t know more until we analyze it at the lab.” He put the swab into a plastic tube, capped it and labeled the side. He set that into his kit, then took out a plastic bag and slid the letter into it. “We’ll fingerprint it at the lab. We’ll need the envelope, as well.”

Lily handed the plain white envelope to Gabriel. On the front Elise Leroy was printed in printer ink in small capital letters. They might be able to determine what kind of printer had been used.

After putting all the evidence in his kit, he peeled off the latex gloves. “How many people have handled it?”

Lily put her hand up. “I did, as well as Elise obviously.”

“Who else? Where did you get it?”

“From Chuck, who’s one of the studio guards at the front gate. He said it came for Elise by a courier.”

He glanced at Sophie. “Okay, print Ms. Leroy and Lily, then go with her to the front and talk to this Chuck. Print him and get his statement. We’ll need to know the name of the courier company. Call them and get the courier to come down to the station for printing and a statement.”

The lycan nodded, and took out her fingerprinting kit and got to work. As she rolled ink onto Elise’s fingers, Gabriel tried not to watch. He looked around the trailer instead, trying to get a sense of the woman he had known over fifteen years ago.

She looked much the same. She’d always been devastatingly beautiful. The type of beauty that sometimes is difficult to look at. Because of her vampiric genes, she aged slower, as he did. They were of the same species; both sangloups. They had known each other as children. Grown up together in a sense. But their respective families had been in conflict. For as long as Gabriel could remember, the Bellmontes and the Leroys had been at war. Fighting over territory they’d long ago claimed as their own, a disagreement that had been started by their vampire ancestors and torn their two families apart.

When Sophie was finished, she followed Lily out of the trailer to print the guard and take his statement. Once the door was firmly closed, Gabriel leaned against the kitchenette counter and looked at Elise.

She was busy wiping the black ink off her fingers.

“Are there more, Elise?”

“More what?”

“More letters?”

When she was done cleaning her hand, she tossed the wadded-up tissue in the small garbage can near the kitchenette. “Yes, there are more. I get all kinds of fan mail.”

“This goes beyond fan mail, and you know it.”

She shrugged and then tossed her hair. It was a typical move for her, especially when she didn’t want to talk about something.

“How long have you been getting these?”

She took a sip of her drink. He could see the tremor in her hands. It was subtle, and to another person most likely invisible, but Gabriel was a trained observer, a lycan with fine-tuned senses, and he also knew Elise. “Two years, I guess.”

“Two years. And you never thought to tell anyone?”

“They’re harmless. Mostly poems.”

“Harmless poems written with cutout letters from magazines? Only people with malicious intent think to hide their handwriting with this technique, Elise.”