Realizing few people were knowledgeable of vampire biology, Ari explained briefly about the witness’s description and how vampires decompose.
He didn’t speak right away. “I’m running through our client list in my head, looking for couples where the female is a vampire,” he finally said. “Where did this happen?”
“Don’t know for sure. The body was found in Goshen Park, but it may have been dumped there.”
“Not much to go on,” he mused. “Was this another shooting?”
“I’m not at liberty to release further information. The medicos haven’t completed their findings. We’re focused on the identification right now.”
“I see. Or rather, I don’t, but I respect the need for caution. Why don’t I make some calls? I hate to alarm anyone, but this way they’ll notify us immediately if they don’t hear from their female partners at dusk.”
Ari hoped it would be that easy. Her next call was to Lilith and Russell to let them know the vamp killer was still active. She asked them to spread the word and to ask Andreas to call her when he woke. Her last call went to the President of the Magic Council, so he could notify the council members. She spent the rest of the day checking on police progress and writing her official council notification. She delivered it to the clerk by late afternoon.
At 4:15 Ryan called with the ME’s autopsy report on the bones. “Female vic. No dental hits. ID still unknown. Cervical spine severed. Our lab thinks the weapon was some kind of large blade.” He hesitated. “Like a frickin’ sword was what they said. I suppose you’re going to tell me all we have to do is look for a knight.”
No knights that Ari knew of, but half of the Otherworlders in town might have swords, especially the dwarves. That didn’t include the human collectors, like Shale, or the numerous other civil war and medieval enthusiasts. Sword ownership wasn’t as rare as Ryan appeared to think.
He went right on without waiting for her reply. “We turned up nothing at the park, too clean. Couldn’t have been the primary crime scene. Have you learned anything?”
“Not so far. Shale’s checking with his clients. Nothing from Andreas yet either, but I assume he’s contacting the nest leaders.”
“Someone’s bound to miss her as the vamps begin to stir,” Ryan said, renewed hope in his voice. “Want to catch supper while we wait?”
“Can’t tonight. I’m headed to the club. Another time?” Ari puckered her brow, uncomfortable with turning him down. Ryan hadn’t said much yet, but she didn’t want this thing with Andreas to interfere with their friendship or their working partnership.
“No sweat. Call me if you hear something. I’ll probably be around another hour, then you can reach me at home.”
He sounded fine. Maybe she was projecting her own discomfort about dating a vampire. Damn, why was she so ambivalent? Did she have commitment issues? Wasn’t that supposed to be a guy thing?
By 8:00 that evening Ari knew identifying the Goshen Park victim was going to be harder than anyone had originally thought. No one had called in a missing lover. None of the nests were minus a female member.
Ari finished the latest phone update from Ryan and joined the others in Club Dintero’s new security room. Russell lounged in a chair behind the desk, Lilith sat on the corner, dangling her legs over the side. Andreas looked like an unhappy Italian Mafioso, leaning against the wall, his eyes dark and brooding.
“Where do we look next?” Russell asked, as Ari walked into the room shaking her head at Ryan’s lack of news.
“If the vamps don’t know who she is, I don’t know where to start,” she said. “Without a description, Lt. Foster can’t search police or online records. We’ve got nothing. She could have been a stranger passing through town.”
“Or a solitary hunter,” Andreas said, pushing away from the wall. “We have a few. Vampires who, for one reason or another, have chosen to live on their own. They shun their own kind.”
Lilith scowled. “Hunter? Like feeding on humans?”
“Not necessarily. Most use the blood banks or bottled blood, like the rest of us. Hunter is rather a misnomer in this case. Those who hunt humans are considered rogues. A solitary or lone hunter is a vampire who lives on their own because they have not accepted the transformation to vampire life. They often eke out an existence by working manual labor night jobs or the women stray into prostitution.”
“With human clients,” Ari finished. She crossed the room to sit on the couch, Andreas perched on the arm beside her. She looked up at him. “Could that be the human-vampire sex angle again? I know it’s a reach, but I’m running out of easy answers.”
“Not so far-fetched,” Andreas said. “It would provide a link among most of the attacks. I know individual handlers we could contact.”
“You mean pimps?”
“I believe the purveyors of sex who specialize in vampire employees prefer my terminology,” he said. “They will know if one of their women is missing, but they are not likely to report it unless we ask.”
“Then let’s go ask.” Ari got up and started for the door. “Are you coming?”
She’d had no idea there were so many pimps or “handlers” in Riverdale that used vamp girls and guys. They’d already visited seven without any success. Number eight was coming up. As they drove along the Olde Town streets, Ari satisfied her curiosity about the vamp sex trade by grilling Andreas.
“Not all prostitutes are loners,” he explained. “Some live in traditional nests and work the streets for the thrill or for extra cash.”
Ari’s cynical brain wondered if they were in it for the perk of legally biting humans. Non-lethal “love bites” during consensual sex was one of the few exceptions under the current laws. Probably a smart exception, considering the impossibility of enforcement.
Andreas pulled over and parked in front of a mid-priced brownstone. “This is our address.”
They popped the doors and got out.
“How do you know so much about sex for hire?” Ari asked, sliding a glance toward him as they climbed the front steps.
“Not from personal experience.” He grinned at her. “Never yet found it necessary.”
Ari just bet he hadn’t. His dark, mysterious aura and sexy voice must have had them lining up for the last two hundred years. How many nights would that be? How many women? Like Ms. Slinky. Ari kept forgetting to ask him who the vampiress was. She’d try to remember later.
Andreas pushed the buzzer next to the name of Spenser Jackson. “I make it my business to know what affects the vampire community,” he said, continuing their conversation.
“Yo,” came over the intercom.
“Spenser Jackson?” Andreas asked.
“You found me,” was the reply.
“We would like to speak with you on official business. In private.”
“About what? What kind of official? Who are you? Ah, never mind. Come on up. 310.” He buzzed them in.
“Trusting soul,” Ari muttered with a frown.
They took one look and sniff at the grungy elevator and took the stairs. Entering the third floor, Ari saw Spenser Jackson standing in the open doorway of apartment 310. Assessing gaze, rugged face with a day-old stubble, six-foot-four, muscular body. Jackson didn’t look trusting, more likely unaccustomed to fear. He cocked his head and looked them over.
“Who did you say you were?”
“Don’t think we said, but I’m Arianna Calin from the Magic Council. We’re working with the Riverdale police.” She showed her ID.
Jackson’s face turned wary, but he stepped aside to let them enter. “This is unexpected. Don’t suppose you’re looking for some action? A threesome maybe?”
“Hardly. We are here about a missing female vampire,” Andreas explained. “Possibly a working girl. In your business.”
Jackson lifted his chin, looking even more wary now. “Name? Who is this babe?”
“That’s the problem. We don’t know,” Ari said. “Her remains were skeletonized.”
“Does that mean bones? This babe’s dead and turned to bones?” Jackson’s face creased into lines of disbelief. “I guess I don’t know why you’re here. She must have been missing a long time.”
“Not long at all,” Ari said. “Dead vamps turn to bones in a matter of hours. She died sometime last night. Anyone on your menu missing?”
“My menu?” He snickered.
“Yeah, you’re a pimp, aren’t you?” Why did she always want to contradict Andreas?
Jackson didn’t like the term either. He scowled. “Handler. I run a legit business. Take care of my employees. The nicer you treat them, the longer they stay healthy, and the more money they make. When they’re happy, they’re more willing to share. And they sure wouldn’t be happy about my talking to the cops.”
Ari sighed. She hadn’t intended to alienate him. “Mr. Jackson, I don’t care whether your business is legit or not. We’re here only to identify the dead woman.” When he still just looked at her, she added, “We could bring the PD into this. Discuss the matter downtown. Do some further checking into your business records, your taxes.”
He let out a soft belch, ran a hand around the back of his neck, looked at Andreas’s bland face and back to Ari. When she crossed her arms, he heaved a sigh. “It could be Vanessa. She didn’t check in tonight, and that’s not like her.”
“You know where she stays?” Andreas asked.
“Naw, none of your people tell us that stuff. Not that I don’t understand why,” Jackson added. “Let’s see, got a phone number somewhere. Tried it earlier, but she didn’t answer. Let me get her file.”
He unlocked a black metal file cabinet that stood in one corner of his studio apartment, rustled around a moment, and pulled out a plain manila folder.