Blood Law (17 page)

She squinted and moved closer. “All I see are smudges.”

“They’re a little hard to see, but they’re there. I’ll lift them and run them through IAFIS and VIPER, see if we get a match.”

“Great.”

IAFIS—the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System—was maintained by the human-run Federal Bureau of Investigation in Washington, D.C., and allowed for an automated search of more than fifty-five million human subjects. VIPER—the Vampire Identification Patterns and Enforcement Resource, a twin of
IAFIS—housed the records of millions of vampires who’d either committed or been the victim of a crime, and was maintained by Enforcers in Louisville.

Latent prints were routinely submitted to both resources in order to establish the identity of the individual who’d left the print. Before the creation of VIPER in the early 1990s, many vampire fingerprints were overlooked by humans as either smudged or unusable. The ridge patterns for vampire prints were much lower than humans’, making their fingerprints hard to detect.

“We’ve cleaned out most of the car’s interior. Want us to pop the trunk?” Tony asked, as he walked past her with what appeared to be a long metal rod.

“Sure.” She followed him to the back of the car.

He placed one end of the rod against the trunk’s keyhole and shoved it into the hole with a loud pop. He removed the rod, lifted the trunk, and whistled. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

Hundreds of clear vials, dozens of bottles of aspirin, syringes, rubber tubing, and Baggies containing brightly colored pills filled the trunk.

Alex gaped at the unexpected find. “Son of a bitch.” She glanced at Varik as he abandoned the table and came to stand opposite Tony. “Our missing vampire appears to have been running a Midnight operation out of his trunk.”

They moved back to let a tech with a camera snap several pictures.

“Looks like he was doing a decent business, judging from the number of empty vials,” Varik said.

Tony and the camera-wielding tech left, called away
by another, and Alex stepped up to the car. “It’s like pulling weeds. Get rid of one and two more pop up in its place.”

Varik lifted a Baggie of pills from the trunk. “This is definitely Ecstasy.” He tossed the bag back into the trunk. “Only things missing are the blood and garlic. But was he selling it locally or shipping it out?”

“We’ll have to check into it, but this could easily explain his disappearance.”

Varik walked around to the side of the car. “Business deal gone bad?”

“It’s happened before, so we can’t rule it out.”

“Any chance he was involved with the ring you busted up?”

“I don’t remember his name coming up in the investigation, but it’s possible. We never did apprehend the main supplier. Hell, we couldn’t even get a name, no matter how many deals we made.”

“If Lipscomb’s disappearance is the result of a deal gone badly, then we’ve been chasing our tails.”

“Damn,” Alex whispered, leaning over the trunk to get a better look. “If that’s true,” she said to Varik as she teetered on one foot, “then I’m going to be so pissed—whoa!”

Her weight pitched her forward. She extended her hand to catch herself before she slammed her injured arm into the side of the car. The bare skin of her palm landed on a stack of aspirin bottles. Images flooded her mind.

A young vampire sat at a kitchen table, surrounded by empty and half-filled vials. Stephen stood behind the
bar at Crimson Swan, cheering as a player made a touchdown on a televised football game. A shadow loomed in a doorway, and fire erupted from the barrel of a pistol.

Pain seared her chest. Her breath stopped, and the world turned black.

The Holy Word Church wasn’t a huge church. In fact, it wasn’t a “church” in the conventional sense, because the small congregation met in a converted farmhouse on the outskirts of Jefferson. A wraparound porch and plantation shutters made for a quaint outer façade. However, the interior of the two-story home had been gutted and converted to a small sanctuary and even smaller offices. The only room that remained virtually untouched was the kitchen in which Tasha sat, sipping chamomile tea and listening to the latest of Nathaniel “Tubby” Jordan’s rants.

“Decadence, open sexuality,” Tubby said, as he shifted his bulk to the edge of his seat. His jowls flapped as he spoke, and his face had taken on an unhealthy red. “Why, Mary Mason found a three-year-old boy trying to bite a girl’s neck in the church nursery last Sunday. Boy said he was
playing vampire.
”

“Kids have been playing vampire or doctor for years,” Tasha said. “It’s an innocent game.”

“Innocent! Ha! You of all people should know there is nothing innocent about those vamps!”

“What’s your point, Tubby, if you have one?”

“My point is that ever since that bar—that den of iniquity—opened,
more of those Hell-spawned bloodsuckers have moved into Jefferson.”

Tasha sighed and sipped the chamomile tea Tubby had offered upon her arrival. It was an old argument, one she’d heard before from others, but none were as animated as Tubby. She didn’t think there was enough chamomile in the world to calm Tubby once he was in full swing, railing about the imagined evils flowing through the doors of Crimson Swan.

“They’re morally corrupting our youth!”

“Who is?” she asked.

“Vampires! Especially that Sabian vamp.”

“You mean Enforcer Sabian?”

“No, the other one.” He waved away her question. “Whatever its name is.”

“Stephen Sabian?”

“That’s the one. I, along with some of my flock, were over there this morning—”

“I heard, and I thought I told you to stay away from the bar.”

He fixed her with a disapproving look. “I go where the Lord leads, Tasha. Those vamps are pushing drugs, and not just Midnight. Now I, and a lot of other folks around here, want to know what you’re doing about it.”

“We’ve been over this before, Tubby. Crimson Swan is a legal business with all its permits and paperwork in order. There is no evidence of drug activity. Stephen Sabian—”

“The Sabians are evil—the devil incarnate.” He struggled to his feet. “Both of ’em!”

Tasha pinched the bridge of her nose in a dual effort
to block the overpowering smell of his cologne and to stave off a building headache.

Tubby and others had brought repeated proposals before the Jefferson town council to have the bar’s license revoked, and they were voted down every time. In the past few months, Tubby had turned his attention to her, trying to convince her that Crimson Swan was involved in illegal activity. Even if Stephen was involved in something, which she doubted, it wasn’t her jurisdiction. All vampire-related crimes were Alex’s exclusive territory.

“Do you have any evidence that Stephen or
anyone
at Crimson Swan is doing something illegal?”

“They’re vampires! What more evidence do you need?”

“Something that’ll hold up in court and isn’t simply your prejudicial judgment.”

“Prejudicial—” His jowls trembled. “How am I supposed to get evidence if I can’t go there? Isn’t that
your
job, anyway?”

“Crimes, or
potential
crimes, involving vampires are Enforcer Sabian’s territory, not mine. You know that.”

“Which makes it the perfect setup for that brother of hers to deal drugs willy-nilly out the back door!”

“And you’re accusing a federal officer of misconduct
and
a major cover-up, neither of which I can do anything about without solid evidence!”

Tubby huffed and whirled away only to turn back a moment later. “Why
do
you work with that vamp? I thought you were scared of vampires.”

“I am,” she answered quietly.

“Then why—”

“Because, unlike some people, I choose to face my fears. Familiarity alleviates fear.”

“It also breeds contempt.” He sat down again. “Tell me, Tasha, how much respect do you think those vamps really have for you, for any of us? Why, just look at what happened today at Maggie’s Place.”

“What makes you think vampires had any role in that shooting?”

“Look at the victims, Tasha. All of the dead are humans; so are a majority of the wounded. Only vamp injured was Sabian.”

“Maggie’s Place is predominantly a human establishment. Very few vampires even go there. Alex was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Or maybe she was there as a shill,” Tubby said. “Maybe she was the convenient token vamp present so as to cast doubt on the rest of them.”

Tasha gawked at him. “Will you listen to yourself? You sound like some kind of paranoid whack-job who’s one step away from stockpiling weapons and army rations because of an imagined impending apocalypse!”

“The apocalypse
is
coming, Tasha. Mark my words. For them, humans are nothing more than forbidden fruit waiting to be plucked.”

“They have a right to survive.”

“Do they?” Tubby placed his fleshy hands flatly on the table and leaned forward. Another wave of cologne beat against her. “You’d kill a mosquito that landed on your arm. How are vampires any different?”

Tasha glared at him, remembering the way Alex had
looked at her while at the Stromheimer scene the previous night. It was the same way a half-starved man would look at a hamburger.

“The Lord liveth,
Lieutenant
, and the Lord shall smite them,” Tubby murmured.

She stood to cover the shudder than ran down her spine. “Is that a threat?”

“No, merely paraphrasing the Good Book. Judgment Day is coming, Tasha, for
us
as well as the vampires. Where are you going to stand when that day comes?”

“I think it’s time for me to leave,
Reverend.
”

“As you wish, but I hope you’ll at least consider what I’ve said.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Would you care to stay for our weekly prayer service tonight?”

“No, thank you. I have to get back to the office.” She gathered her jacket and purse.

“I understand,” Tubby responded. “The Holy Word Church doors are always open if you ever need to talk, Tasha.”

“Don’t hold your breath on that,” she muttered.

“We’ll be praying for you.”

Tasha left the kitchen without acknowledging his final comment and entered the sanctuary, where several members of the church had started gathering. Their conversation stopped, and they watched her with guarded eyes as she passed through the large room. She couldn’t help but compare their looks to those she’d received while at Crimson Swan. She was the outsider in both places, and it made her skin crawl.

Even though she thought some of Tubby’s concerns were valid and knew that he sometimes took liberties with the boundaries of their tenuous friendship, she couldn’t drop everything in order to investigate his latest allegations.

Outside, she hurried down the steps, head down and jingling her keys, anxious to be away. She rounded the side of the porch and was taken aback when she bumped into a warm body.

“Excuse me,” she and the man she’d nearly run over apologized simultaneously. Tasha jerked back in surprise. “Darryl?”

Darryl Black, formerly of the Jefferson PD and who now worked with the Nassau County Sheriff’s Department, smiled lazily. His dark hair was shaggier than she’d remembered it, and fine lines creased the edges of his hazel eyes. “Evening, Lieutenant.”

Tasha returned his smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Is Harvey treating you decently?”

“Can’t complain. I’ve been mostly working the night shift, but it suits me fine. It’s better than sitting at home.”

She nodded in agreement. “What brings you out here?”

He bobbed his head toward the church. “Prayer meeting tonight.”

“I didn’t know you attended Holy Word.”

“I don’t; well, not officially. I just come to the prayer meetings occasionally.” He focused on her once more. “And you?”

“Tubby and some others were at Crimson Swan this morning. I was just following up on a few things.”

“Is he spouting more of his conspiracy theories?”

Tasha rolled her eyes. “Lord, yes, and wearing too much cologne again. I swear the fumes must be rotting his brain or something. Now he’s accusing Alex of both corruption and of covering up the fact that Stephen’s a Midnight dealer.”

Darryl chuckled. “Don’t let him get to you. He means well, but—”

“But he can worry the horns off a goat,” Tasha supplied. She patted his arm. “Listen, it’s been great seeing you, but I have to run.”

“Yeah, I should get inside before Tubby eats all the Oreos.”

Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she strode across the makeshift parking lot. Darryl had been one of the finest cops in the JPD until he found a pink slip included with his last paycheck, a casualty of the latest round of citywide budget cuts. At least he’d found a niche within the sheriff’s department and seemed happy with the move.

She was on Sawyer Mill Road and had just entered the Jefferson city limits when the call came across the radio of an officer down at the impound lot. She flipped the switches to activate her lights and siren, leaving thoughts of Darryl Black and Tubby Jordan in her wake as she sped through the darkening twilight.

“ALEX!” VARIK GRABBED HER SHOULDERS AND PULLED
her out of Lipscomb’s trunk. He eased her down onto the garage’s smooth concrete floor.

Technicians stopped their work and rushed forward. He held his hand up to ward them off. “Stand back.”

They stopped a few feet away, their eyes and mouths gone wide. His gaze flicked to his bloody hand.

“Shit,” he hissed, and began checking Alex for visible wounds. Her amber eyes were open and staring, but she wasn’t breathing. Her skin was cool and growing colder. His hands passed over her chest and stopped. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” He gripped the collar of her sweater and ripped it open.

Blood welled between her breasts and pooled in the hollow of her neck before spilling over her shoulder and onto the floor.

“Jesus,” one of the techs whispered. “Looks like she was shot.”

“Come on, baby. Don’t do this to me.” Varik found
her pulsing heartbeat, but it was thin, weak. “Damn it.” He looked up at the techs. “Call an ambulance! Now!”