The Source (29 page)

After he starts the car he asks, “Are you okay enough
to tell me how to get to your apartment?”

Startled, I look at him. For some reason I had thought
he already knew, but evidently he doesn’t pry into others’ personal lives like
some people. I nod. “Are you sure?” he asks.

I smile and whisper, “Yes, Rick, I’m sure.”

I’m able to get us to my apartment without many problems.
I only got confused once, which I consider a huge success considering what I’ve
been through in the past couple of hours.

We walk silently up the sidewalk to my apartment,
Rick’s arm still steadying me with each step. I look at my front door and suddenly
stop, eyes wide in alarm. Rick tenses, bringing his other arm up around the
front of my body, almost like a shield.

Across the front of my apartment, in glaringly
wet-like red lettering, are the words “
The dead can never be relieved
.”

With my mouth hanging,
I bury my face into Rick’s shoulders. He rubs his hand up and down my back.
“Come on. Let’s call the police.”

Shaking my head,
tears leaking from my eyes, I look at him. “We can’t. What if Officer Davis
shows up? What if he remembers that you influenced him to let us go?”

“It’s not likely.”

Still shaking my
head, “I knew what you had done to me not long after the haze wore off.”

He regards me, the
look on his face very gentle, tender even. “That’s only because I wanted you to
know,” he whispers.

My voice catches. He
could have duped me the whole time? And I wouldn’t have known? But he didn’t.
I’ll have to think about that later when I can actually think.

I nod and mumble,
“Okay.” He gently squeezes me then asks, “Can I use your cell phone?”

I hand him the phone
as he dials some numbers then takes my hand and leads me back to the car. He
explains the issue to the person on the other end of the line and gives them my
address. He ends the call and hands my phone back to me. “An officer is on the
way.” He leads me back to my car.

Leaning against the
hood of my car, we wait while Rick continues to keep his arm around me.

“Shouldn’t we go into
the apartment? It will be light soon.”

He looks down at me,
“We have some time. Probably shouldn’t touch anything that could be considered
evidence. Is there another way to get into your apartment?”

“Not unless you want
to climb through a window,” I reply.

“Well, if they take
too long to get here, we’ll have to do that so you don’t get vampire splattered
all over you again.”

I jerk against his
arm, giving him a stormy glare. His grin fades. “I’m sorry. Just trying to
distract you. It was a bad joke. I’m sorry.” He again rubs his hand up and down
my back. I close my eyes and slide against him, resting my head against his shoulder.

He continues to hold
me as the minutes pass by and no police officer is to be seen. I keep my eyes
closed as hundreds of thoughts play bumper-cars in my head. I purse my lips
then say, “I think it was Tucker.”

“What makes you say
that?”

“Because of what’s
written,” I explain. “It’s a line that was written on the wall of one of the
buildings at the abandoned mine.”

“You went to an
abandoned mine with Tucker?”

I lean back away from
him. “Actually, Tucker, Abe and I went there. Tucker had told us about it and
Abe was interested in checking it out because of the murders.”

Rick bobs his head,
looking off into the distance. “Well, I guess we better wait inside. It’s
getting too close to first light.”

We get back to the
front of the apartment before I ask, “Are we really going to go through the
window?”

“Is there another
choice that won’t possibly disrupt evidence?”

“You know as well as
I do that in cases like this, it’s unlikely that anyone will be arrested for it
unless there is a witness or a lot of fingerprints that are already in the
system. Even so, this is not exactly the type of case that takes priority.”

He cocks his head to
the side, “We might be surprised at what takes priority in a small town like
Rowan where nothing else happens.”

“Yeah, nothing except
unsolved murders,” I grumble.

Appearing a bit
agitated, Rick takes the keys from his pocket and opens the door. He stands in
front of me, keeping one arm back across my body. He slowly leads me into the
darkened apartment. He finds the light and turns it on to find my happy home to
be seemingly, and thankfully, empty of intrusion.

“Better-than-human
vampire sight?”

“What?” he asks.

I nod to the switch.
“How you knew where the light switch was.”

“Oh,” he runs his
hand through his hair before dropping the keys on the entryway table. “Yeah,
better vision in the dark.”

I begin to walk to my
bedroom to change out of my bloodstained clothes when Rick suddenly grabs me.
“Let me check out the rest of the apartment first.” Once he has confirmed that
no bogeymen are hiding in any darkened corners or closets, I take a change of
clothes to the bathroom to finish the cleaning job that the nurse had started.
I’m glad to learn that there are no bits and pieces
hiding anywhere as I shed my clothes and turn the shower on full blast. I fill
the sink with cold water to let my bloodstained clothes soak, then jump under
the hot water in the shower to scrub the trauma of the day from my prickling
skin.

Once I’m done in the shower, I dress and begin to ring
my clothes out when I hear a knock on the door. I walk slowly out of the
bathroom, assuming that Rick would answer the door, but he’s nowhere to be
seen. I turn and see him sitting on my bed. He just shrugs and says, “Sun.”

Ah, the sun is up so he’s staying in the darkest part
of the apartment, which just happens to be my bedroom. Yes, the place of no
light.

I walk to the door, “Who is it?”

“Officer Davis,” the voice responds.

Dang our luck. Praying that Rick is correct in that
the officer won’t remember, I open the door.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m responding to the call at
this residence for what looks like graffiti that has been sprayed on your
door?”

“Yes, sir,” I respond quietly.

“Can I come in and ask you a few questions?”

I welcome the officer in and notice that he’s taking
everything in, running expert eyes over the entirety of my small apartment.

“Your name?”

“Emma Burcham. Dr. Emma Burcham.”

Officer Davis cocks his head to the side, studying me
for a few moments. “Is the graffiti the only thing you’ve noticed this morning?”

“Yes, so far,” I reply.

“Does what is written in the graffiti have any meaning
to you?” he asks.

“Actually, yes. It’s a line from what is written on
the wall of one of the buildings at the abandoned mine. Someone took me there
to show me the grounds and tell me what happened.”

Officer Davis glares at me, one eyebrow raised. “You
do understand the concept of abandoned, right? By being there, you and
your
friend
were trespassing.”

“But,” I stammer as I start to panic. “I was just...”.

“She was taken there,” Rick suddenly interrupts the
conversation. “She’s not from here and unfortunately was not the best judge of
who she trusted.”

I turn around as Officer Davis jerks to the side to
find out who is talking. Rick is standing with his arms braced on either side
of my bedroom door. Officer Davis looks slowly from Rick to me then back to
Rick as if he is trying to determine what exactly is going on here in the early
morning, a woman alone with a vampire.

I can feel the air change around me and sense Officer
Davis tensing. “Regardless of the circumstances surrounding the event, it’s
still trespassing. ‘I didn’t know’ doesn’t work around here, especially when
we’re talking about the scene of an ongoing police investigation.”

I raise my eyebrows at Rick, and then look back at the
officer.

Looking at me Officer Davis continues, “Now, who was
it that took you to the abandoned mine?”

“His name is Tucker...”. and before I can finish
Office Davis says, “Dutrieux. Tucker Dutrieux.”

I look slowly at Rick. “Why, yes. Tucker Dutrieux.” My
face crinkles in confusion as I turn back to Officer Davis. “How did you know?”

“Not many people by the name Tucker in Rowan. Now, are
you suggesting that he was the one responsible for this? Why would a grown man
target you for something like this?”

Feeling very small, my voice low I say, “Because I
turned him down. He had expressed interest in me several times, and I said no.”

Officer Davis bobs his head as he glances over me,
starting at my legs, as if he’s assessing whether or not what I’m saying is
plausible.

“Well, that’s a start I guess. Was it just you and Mr.
Dutrieux at the mine?”

“No, another co-worker went with us. Abe
Krishnamurthy. But he didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Ma’am,” Officer Davis chastises me, “I’ll make those
calls on who did what. What makes you
think
that this Abe Krishnamurthy
couldn’t have left the graffiti? I mean, it sounds like he’s not from around
here, so who knows what he’s capable of.”

“Tucker’s not from around here, either. He’s
originally from New York.”

“Even though, he’s been here long enough that people
know him. Unlike you, your ‘gentleman’ friend in your bedroom and this Abe
Krishnamurthy.”

Rick hesitantly but angrily steps into the room.
“Which one of us are you actually investigating, Officer Davis? The person who
damaged the property, or the young woman who has done absolutely nothing wrong,
except for being friends with non-whites and vampires?”

Office Davis leans to the side again, “Watch your
mouth, vamp. If you don’t live here and you didn’t witness anything, then you
have no involvement in this investigation whatsoever. So I suggest you clamp
your fangs together before I take you down to lock up.”

He looks back at me, “Do you have anything else that
might shed light on why this happened, Miss Burcham?”

“Tucker and I had an argument. The last time he tried
to, um, gain my favor. The same day he was fired from his job at the FOHVA
research facility.”

He hooks his thumbs into his belt, “Now what would one
event have to do with another?”

“Well, while we were arguing in the park, Tucker got
into a physical fight with a runner. Tucker’s face was roughed up quite a bit.
Later that day we learned that he was no longer working at the facility. I
really couldn’t tell you if it was because of attendance issues, showing up
looking as he did or if it was a multitude of things.”

“Uh-huh,” Officer Davis grunts. “So we have
trespassing at a crime scene, assault and battery and now destruction of
property.”

Exasperated, I shrug, “I guess that sums it up.”

He stares firmly at me before making a few notes in
his notebook. “Do you mind if I take a look around and take some pictures of
the graffiti in question?”

I shake my head, “Not at all. Be my guest.” I faintly
smile, feeling a thread of sarcasm swirl around the back of my throat.

He nods, starting at me then Rick before going out to
his car, presumably to get a camera.

I take a deep breath then collapse onto the couch.
Rick has moved back into my bedroom so that he’s out of the way of the direct
rays coursing through the front door. Watching the front door as Officer Davis
begins taking pictures and walking the perimeter outside, I slowly walk into
the bedroom to sit on the bed. Rick is pacing across the room, the heavy drapes
pulled tightly shut so that no light shines except from the bedside lamp.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly.

I look up at him, “For what?”

“That you had to go through that asinine questioning
that had little to do with the real issue.”

I run both hands through my hair and rest them on top
of my head. “I started to panic. Now more than ever, I don’t expect much of
anything to come from any type of investigation. Sounds more like Tucker is
already part of the good ‘ole boys network and even if he is guilty, he
probably wouldn’t even get a slap on the wrist.” I look up at the ceiling,
wondering what more could happen to completely distract us from our work. Or
worse. Threaten my life or others. Hopefully this was just meant to scare me
with no real intent for any violence. I don’t really believe that though,
especially after seeing Tucker’s quick anger. It is possible that he could be
capable of so much more.

I hear Officer Davis moving around in the apartment so
I walk back toward the front door. After looking over all of the rooms - except
the bedroom - Officer Davis announces, “Alright, Miss Burcham,” saying my name,
without Doctor, as if it’s beneath him to address me. The animosity is dripping
from his voice. “I think that I have everything that I need to start an
investigation. These types of incidents usually don’t lead to much, but we’ll
keep you informed of anything we learn. I’ll just need to get your contact
number.”