Chapter 7
I had a day to kill before I could go meet my anonymous pen pal behind the diner, so I decided to check in with Old Rossi. I had a couple questions about that vampire-only telepathy that connected the members of his clan.
Had he felt Sven die? Had any other vampire? Had they heard his final thoughts, or had they seen through his eyes?
Was there a chance someone in town had seen or heard Sven’s killer?
Old Rossi held a number of classes each day. Usually things like yoga, meditation, and lately some kind of Zen scribbling. Calling ahead would have only gotten me his answering machine. I drove to his house.
Crow was in the passenger side of my Jeep. Since I’d lost the rock-paper-scissors to Myra, I was his default babysitter.
“You’re telling me you’re not dating Ryder?” Crow apparently didn’t know when to let a subject die.
I listened to the intermittent shush of windshield wipers while we stopped at the red light. Vacationers of the hearty Oregon variety walked the sidewalks, making the best of their beach stay with window shopping, hot caramel corn, wine and beer tastings.
I caught a glimpse of Chris Lagon, our local gill-man and owner of Jump Off Jack Brewery, wearing a tank-top and shorts, walking toward a coffee shop and looking happy as a gill-man in the rain.
The town’s three Furies—Al, Tisi, and Meg—laughed and shoved each other as they roller skated across the crosswalk. They wore roller derby shorts that showed off their dark legs and light jackets. They must be practicing for the Cake and Skate coming up. I wondered how Bertie had roped them into it.
Something bright and odd moved up ahead and I squinted at the man exiting a shop as I realized what the it was. An umbrella hat. The person beneath it was tall and lean, and walked with the perfect posture I’d only seen Death carry off.
Great. Now Death had an umbrella hat. I hoped Crow hadn’t seen him.
“We’re not dating. You can get off that subject now.”
“Not dating doesn’t mean you don’t love him.”
Crow stared out the side window and seemed peaceful. Like he wasn’t trying to stir up trouble. Like he was a guy who had known me since I was born and who cared about the state of my heart.
Odin might think I should never trust a god, that no one who was a vessel for such great power could also have the capacity to care for a lowly mortal like me, but I didn’t think that was true. Crow had always been fun to be around, kind to me, or certainly not cruel in his teasing. He and my father had gotten along well too.
That meant something to me.
“Do you love him, Delaney?” Crow turned to study my profile as I eased down the main road.
“If that made any difference at all, we would still be together, I think. He’s not the same guy who left this little town eight years ago. I’m not the same girl, either.”
“So you do still love him.”
He tipped his head a bit, his eyes telling me I could lie, but he’d know it if I did.
“It’s not that easy.”
He chuckled. “No. Love isn’t. There are the few—very few—who fall into love and never quite break the surface back into the real world, but for most people, for most beings, love is not an easy road.”
When I didn’t say anything, he brushed at a non-existent speck of dust on my dashboard. “I don’t often offer advice.”
I laughed, one short bark. “You’re always telling people what to do.”
“Sure, but I don’t offer advice. Not real advice, not really. Understand?”
Wow, I was currently witnessing a miracle right here in the front seat of my Jeep. Crow was being serious.
“All right. I’m listening. Advice away.”
“I’ve always thought you and Ryder would find a way in this world. Together. I’d thought you’d tell him about the gods and creatures in Ordinary a long, long time ago, but you’ve kept that secret, haven’t you?”
I nodded. That was part of being a Reed. You knew all the secrets of the town and didn’t share them.
“Your father liked him, you know. He thought you and Ryder would have tried dating after high school.”
“Ryder went to college out of state.”
“I know. In the long run it’s probably a good thing. Let him broaden his horizons, stretch his mind and conceptions of the world. But he came back here, Delaney.”
“His house is here.”
“He didn’t come back for a house. He came back for you.”
“Well, if that’s true, he had a weird way of showing it. He dumped me, Crow. He was the one who called it off, not me.”
“Because there are things he doesn’t want you to know about his life.”
“What?”
“You aren’t the only one who has secrets, Delaney. Ryder’s been gone from this town for eight years. He’s lived a life you know nothing about—a life no one knows anything about because if you listen to him, you’ll realize he never really goes into detail. He brushes away any pointed inquiries and changes the subject. That is the behavior of a man who has something to hide.”
“Are you telling me I should love him and trust him or I should take him in for questioning?”
“I’m telling you love makes you vulnerable. It strips away all the shields and safety nets and leaves you open for great joy, and occasionally a lot of pain. Sometimes, when someone loves someone else with everything they are, they will do stupid things. Like not telling them something about their past. Like not telling them the secrets they are afraid will hurt the other person.”
“What secret could he have that would hurt me? I’m a cop.”
“What secrets do you have that could hurt him?”
I had a lot of secrets. Pretty much half of my life was something I didn’t talk about to anyone in town except the deities, creatures, and my sisters. It had always been that way. It was better for the creatures and the deities that their existence not be discovered. It was better for the mortals too.
But it wasn’t all that great on my love life.
I’d dated a few times in high school, but every boy I’d been with broke it off. They’d told me I was too into things they weren’t interested in. Like following in my father’s footsteps and becoming a cop.
They didn’t know that I hadn’t really had much of a choice. Well, maybe that wasn’t completely true. Dad would never have forced me into police work if I’d hated it. But I idolized him, wanted to be just like him. And since he was also a bridge for transferring god power to those lucky few mortals who could become vessels for it, just like me, I felt the closer I fitted my footsteps into the path he’d chosen, the more likely my success would be.
Luckily, I loved being a cop. So did Myra and Jean. We loved taking care of Ordinary. Not just the creatures and vacationing gods, but all of our other neighbors.
“You know I’m in an unusual line of work, right?” I asked him. “Telling Ryder the secrets of the gods and creatures, and everything else isn’t the same as something he might not want to tell me.”
“You don’t think a mortal could be hiding a dangerous secret?”
I flipped on the blinker and waited for a gap in traffic to take the turn up to Old Rossi’s place on the hill.
A little girl, probably six, wore a mini-umbrella hat. I noted with surprise, that her mother did too.
“Lookee, lookee,” Crow said. “Wouldn’t catch on, you said. Stupid hat, you said.”
I ignored him. “What kind of dangerous secrets do you think Ryder might be hiding?”
“You read the headlines. You get the police department chatter. Humans are capable of all sorts of terrible things.”
I laughed. “So...what? You think Ryder’s part of the mob? Or is dealing drugs or has suddenly decided to take up human trafficking as a side business?”
Crow was quiet a moment, as if trying to decide how he was going to answer me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m listening. I’m trying to hear you and not judge what you’re saying.”
“That,” he said. “Say that to Ryder. Tell him you’ll listen.”
“And find out he spent eight years in and out of jail?”
“And find out what he spent eight years doing. Really doing. With whom. For whom.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, he got his degree and says he worked for an architecture firm. Have you followed up on that?”
“His work history? We brought him in as a reserve officer. We checked his background.”
“Everything on the record.”
“What do you think there was to find off the record?”
Crow rubbed at his mouth and his eyes narrowed. “Delaney, this isn’t...you’re making it hard for me to decide what to say. So I’m not going to say anything. But I am going to ask you a couple questions. Okay?”
Seemed like a lot of people liked playing the Q&A game lately. “Fine.”
“Does Ryder act more like an architect or a law enforcement officer?”
“A cop? You think he’s a secret cop?”
“Just. Answer.”
“He runs a building business. Of course he’s an architect.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Okay, so the question was: Did Ryder act like he was in law enforcement? The image of him striding into the room when I’d been held at gunpoint, the easy way he not only checked over the situation, but also kept an eye on any other possible threats. His calm under pressure and that flash of hard light in his eyes that settled like a granite edge when he was talking about certain things and people.
Yeah, he acted like he’d had training. Myra had even said the same thing to me a few months ago after the Rhubarb Rally. Since my sisters had done a lot of work to keep Ryder’s schedule and duties far away from my own shift, I couldn’t say I’d seen him in cop-mode much these last few months.
But the feeling that I’d been shoving to the back of my heart for too long was more than just intuition. It was knowledge.
“Yes,” I said, “he acts like a cop. What does that have to do with love?”
“Nothing. Everything. It has to do with secrets. The things people won’t say because they want to keep someone they love safe.”
“He doesn’t want to tell me he’s a cop?”
“He doesn’t want to tell you a lot of things. Maybe he’s not a cop. But what I know for sure, is he is not just an architect, and he did not move back into this tiny town because he thought it would be good for business.”
“You think he lied?”
“I think he hasn’t been forthcoming.”
“And you know this how?”
His black eyebrows raised and so did the corners of his mouth. “Hello? Trickster. I know when someone is putting on.”
“If he is hiding something, that’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t be in a relationship with him.”
“Tell that to your heart.”
“My heart isn’t stupid enough to fall for a man who might be keeping dangerous secrets.”Crow shook his head.
“What?”
“Now who’s the liar?”
I didn’t have time to answer because one: I didn’t want to, and two: we had arrived at Old Rossi’s place.
I parked the Jeep right next to Ryder’s truck.
What was he doing here?
I tried to picture him doing Zen scribbles or hot yoga....
Hot yoga had its appeal. Ryder sweaty, shirt clinging to his chest, his flat stomach, muscles flexing as he moved, stretched, thrusted.
“Are we getting out today, or should I order us a pizza?” Crow asked.
Okay, so maybe my mind had been wandering a bit. “You can stay here.”
“Nope. I’m very interested as to why our Mr. Bailey is here at big daddy vamp’s house, aren’t you, Delaney? Do you think it might be a secret meeting? Full of skullduggery?”
I ignored him and got out of the Jeep. Yes, it was odd that Ryder was at Old Rossi’s house, especially since Rossi had warned me off of Ryder, and Ryder hadn’t ever seemed all that friendly to Rossi. Not to mention I’d specifically told Rossi to leave Ryder alone.
There was little chance Rossi would want to give me time to answer questions about what he had felt, what any of the vampires might have felt, when Sven had been killed.
But I didn’t want Rossi to do Ryder any damage. It had been Ryder’s blood on Sven, it had been Ryder’s blood used in the ichor techne. It was possible that Rossi had called Ryder up here so he could kill him.
Well, hell.
I resisted the urge to pull my gun. Instead, I walked quickly up to the front door.
Even though I had been here only a handful of hours ago, it felt like an entirely different house. Funny what sunlight can do to a place.
I knocked. I heard voices coming closer. Three, I thought. Two I recognized: Old Rossi and Ryder. The other I didn’t.
Crow stood behind me now. Guess he didn’t want to wait in the Jeep.
Old Rossi opened the door. For just a second, a heartbeat of a moment, his eyes narrowed. If I were anyone else in town, I might think that he was unhappy to see me. But since I knew Old Rossi, I knew he wasn’t just unhappy, he was annoyed.
Interesting.
“Hi, Rossi. Can I have a couple of minutes of your time?”
“This isn’t ideal, Delaney.”
“It won’t take long.” I stepped into his house. I didn’t have to be invited across a threshold—human had its advantages—and he stepped back, the annoyed rolling into a simmering frustration that was not quite anger.
Really, if he wanted, he could send one of his family members to take care of me. Vampires were at least three times as strong as a human. If he wanted me marched off his property, he could make that happen with a snap of his fingers.
But it would be really stupid of him to push this to a physical kind of confrontation. Better just to see me in and answer my questions rather than fight me and watch as I locked him and his entire clan up in a silver and garlic-lined prison cell.
Yes, I was human. I was also a Reed. That meant some things. It meant I didn’t back down, I didn’t break easily, and I had the kind of endurance that let me manhandle god powers if I had to.
“I see you have company.” I waved vaguely over my shoulder toward Ryder’s truck out front.
“So do you.” He flicked a look at Crow, then crossed his arms over his chest. He might have looked intimidating if he wasn’t wearing soft gray yoga pants and a worn out shirt with: LET’S GET DOWN, DOG written across the chest.
“Is Ryder taking up yoga?”
Old Rossi almost never smiled with his teeth, but would curve his lips. He had the kind of face that said “smolder,” and his smile reached his eyes with a sort of diamond-hard glitter. If one didn’t know he was a vampire and couple thousand years old, one might think he was a handsome cologne-ad model, even though his eyebrows were thick and low to his eyes and his nose was strong. His messy dark hair, a little too long, only accented those killer cheekbones of his.
So the unfulfilled smile carried a power. It made one want to see his teeth, see his smile, see what would make a creature like him laugh.
Sort of like a spiderweb looked incomplete—all those holes—and therefore safe for a fly to duck through.
“Delaney,” Ryder’s familiar voice called out.
I looked down the hallway past Old Rossi. Ryder walked my way.
My heart took a jump and went for a double-Dutch beat. I’d just seen him last night, but there was no denying the happy that flooded my senses when he was near. I practically thrummed with it.
Behind him was the man I’d seen arguing with Ryder on his doorstep the other night.
“What brings you by?” Ryder asked.
“Yes, Delaney,” Old Rossi asked. “What brings you by?”
“I just wanted to check a few things with Rossi.”
The vampire’s eyebrows flicked up. Behind him, Ryder’s did the same.
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t sounding as casual as I thought I was.
“Don’t think we’ve met.” Crow strode up past me and Rossi, aiming straight at the man I still hadn’t been introduced to. “My name’s Crow. I run the glassblowing shop here in town.”
“Pleased to meet you.” The man’s voice was a low rumble with a bit of an accent from the other side of the continent. He shook Crow’s hand. “Name’s Jake Monroy.”
“Friend of Mr. Rossi’s?” Crow asked.
“No,” Ryder said. “He’s here with me. Mr. Monroy is looking at investing in land and businesses in town. I told him I’d show him around while he’s here.”
“Are you selling land?” I asked Rossi.
He finally realized he wasn’t going to get rid of me or Crow and turned his body to open up the circle of conversation.
“I am not selling.” Rossi motioned to the living room and we all made our way toward a more comfortable setting.
“I might be interested in hiring Mr. Bailey to remodel my studio.”
Maybe that was the truth. Rossi used the second home on his property for his classes, and I didn’t think he’d done much to update it in all the time I’d known him. But it was too much of a coincidence that he had a dead vampire covered in Ryder’s blood show up yesterday and now was keenly interested in hiring Ryder today.
“An upgrade,” I said. “Is business that good? I mean, with our weather being so wet this year, you can’t be bringing in that many vacationers.” I gave him an innocent look.
He gave his own look that said I was laying it on a little thick.
“Not at all. The weather has given me time to contemplate the changes I’d like to implement. I’ve been impressed by Mr. Bailey’s concepts and creative vision. I’m excited to see what energy he can bring to this project.”
All of that was pleasant enough. A pleasant pile of bologna. The only thing Old Rossi was excited about was keeping Ryder close at hand in case he felt like killing him.
I could just picture them going over the details: Hey, Ryder? What do you think about re-doing the edge of the balcony? Shove.
No. That wasn’t going to happen. I might not be able to admit out loud that I loved him, but even if I hated Ryder, I wouldn’t leave him in Old Rossi’s hands when the vampire was literally out for blood.
“Could you and I speak privately?” I asked.
Old Rossi narrowed those ice blue eyes, but I squared off to him, my hands on my hips, letting him know it wasn’t really a question.
“Maybe after I’ve given Ryder and Jake my time and attention,” Old Rossi said. “I know you’re a busy man, Ryder, with other appointments today.”
“No, that’s fine.” Ryder had folded down on the couch and looked more relaxed than any of us except maybe Crow who was mooching around the edges of the room. “I’ll jot down some notes about that studio. Go on ahead.”
Of course, Ryder also caught my eye. He didn’t think I was there on some kind of casual house call either. He knew I was investigating a murder—a murder that I wasn’t giving him any details about. I was pretty sure he was leaping to all sorts of conclusions as to why I needed to talk to Old Rossi.
He wasn’t right about me thinking Old Rossi was a suspect, but he wasn’t wrong about my reason for being here. Or at least what my reason had been before I’d seen Ryder’s truck in the driveway.
“How considerate,” Old Rossi said, his voice tempered but his eyes hot. “And you, Mr. Monroy?”
The man I did not like even though I’d barely spoken to him, shoved both hands in his pockets, the right one stopping short as it caught on a squared-off ring on his finger. “No, it’s fine. You go on and deal with the...officer. Our business can wait.”
Wow. Could he have sounded any more resentful and condescending?
There is a thing vampires do right before they go for the throat. It’s sort of a black heat that radiates from them. I knew this because my father had told me. He knew it because he’d seen vampires attack before.
In all my years in Ordinary—which was all my life—I’d never seen any real vampire violence. Bar fights? Sure. Yelling matches? Yes. Petty squabbles and some dirty underhanded revenge that involved rotted shrimp and old eggs? Of course.
But the pure distilled anger and violence Old Rossi radiated at being told what to do, like a child, was eye-opening.
A little heart-stopping too.
And just as quickly as it had happened, that dark violence was gone. Old Rossi wasn’t radiating anything except a sort of vibe that advertised he was fond of sandalwood and long walks on the beach.
“Miss Reed.” He extended his hand as a sign for me to follow him out of the room. He never called me Miss Reed. I suddenly felt like I was being called out of class to see the principal.
He was upset I’d interrupted him. Well, too bad. He wanted to know who killed Sven and so did I. And only one of us was a police officer.
“Drinks?” Crow asked, having found his way to the bar in the corner of the room. It wasn’t even noon yet, I didn’t think alcohol would make any of this easier.
I flicked him a look that I hoped said: Behave yourself over my shoulder as I walked out of the room. His look said: La-la-la. I can’t hear you, as he studied the label on the vodka.
Rossi strode—well, with his grace it was more like glided—angrily into the eggshell room.
He opened the door with enough force to make the chicken shells tremble.
“What,” he snarled, “do you want?”
I shut the door carefully behind him and refused to be intimidated.
“Why is Ryder here?”
“I told you.”
“You told me a lie. Now tell me the truth.”
“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. I don’t think he is innocent in the death of one of my own.”
Well. He didn’t mess around. Good. I liked it best when Rossi was being blunt.
“You don’t have to like him or trust him. But you do not get to decide on any creature, deity or mortal’s innocence in this town. That’s my job, and I am good at it. So you want to try that again? Tell me that you didn’t bring him out here to kill him?”
One eyebrow rose up toward the curl of black hair that brushed his forehead. “If I were going to kill him he’d already be dead, and buried so quickly, he’d still be steaming six feet under.”
“Why don’t you trust him?”
He paced over to his couch. He didn’t sit, instead walking along the back of it, his hands gripped at the wrist behind his hips. “That is a question I would rather not answer. Are you sure it’s the question you want to ask?”
“Yes.” I could tell him I had ideas, theories as to why he had been trying to warn me off Ryder ever since he’d found out we were dating. But I didn’t want to influence what he was going to say.
“That isn’t the question you came here to ask me, is it Delaney?”
No. “Yes. One of them.” See? I could be truthful.
He had reached the far side of the couch and studied the eggs in cases there for a moment before turning back toward me.
“He smells funny.”
Okay, that was not what I expected him to say.
“Funny how? Like ha-ha? Or like weird? Is it a blood thing? A fanger thing?”
He looked mildly offended by the fanger remark, but continued as if I hadn’t said anything.
“Throughout the years there have been those who hunt. Those who seek out the creatures of this world. Those who would eradicate anything that is different, misunderstood, alien.”
“You think he’s a vampire hunter? Like Buffy? Sam and Dean? Seriously?”
I had it on good authority that there were no vampire hunters in the world. Sure, there were people who were curious about cryptozoology. There was scripted monster hunting that might make for a good half-hour slot on some fake historical or nature channel. But there were no organization of hunters who really believed there were real vampires in the world.
“There is an organization of hunters,” Old Rossi started, and I could only blink several times as my brain did some revisions and carried the dumbfounded. “It has not long been formed. Throughout the years, such organizations come...and go.”
From the slide of his tongue over his upper lip, I could guess how exactly those organizations had disappeared.
“They often die from being ignored. If they are exposed, mockery is their bane. This is not a world that wishes to believe in the things that linger in the shadows.” For that he gave me a lazy half-smile.
Okay. Maybe I liked it better when he didn’t smile.
“So you think...there’s a group of people hunting vampires? Killing vampires like Sven? You think Ryder is a part of that group?”
“It was his blood.”
“He donated blood. To the Red Cross.”
He snorted. “You believe that?”
“I checked the records. It’s on the up-and-up. He donated blood. I think someone used his blood to kill Sven.”
“You think there is someone who wants Ryder blamed for Sven’s death? Who hates him that much?”
“You.”
Old Rossi breathed out hard enough his nostrils flared. “How many times do I have to tell you that if I wanted him dead, I would take a very direct action toward that goal?”
“Would any of your clan want him dead because you don’t trust him?”
“Possibly. But they would not act upon that desire without consulting me.”
“Would you know if someone had done it?”
“What do you mean?”
“How connected are you to the other vampires in the town? Can you read their minds? Can you see through their eyes? Hear through their ears?”
“Didn’t your father ever explain the blood bond of our kind?”
“Not in detail. I know you all have an...awareness of each other. You can read minds. Mortal minds and each other’s minds.”
He waited to see if I was going to add any details to that. “Really? That’s all?”
I shrugged. “We try to respect every creature’s privacy. There’s probably more in the books.”
“Which you haven’t read?” He shook his head.
“Yet. I’ll get to it. It’s been a slightly crappy year.”
He unhooked his hands and rubbed at his temples. “All right.” He hitched one hip on the back of the couch and leaned there. “Vampires mate.”
“I know that.”
He held up one finger for my silence. “Vampires mate. Mates can read each other’s minds, see through each other’s eyes, hear through each other’s ears. Vampires born as blood relations also have this ability with their genetic relation—so sisters or brothers, fathers or mothers.”
I didn’t tell him I understood the meaning of the word “relation.” He was talking. That’s what I needed.
“In general, we can communicate thought-to-thought, but seeing and hearing via another of our kind is not easily done. Sometimes lovers can make that connection. As the prime vampire, I can force a connection to any I accept as my family.”
“So you all have telepathy, but the sight and audio is more specific.”
“Yes.”
“Is it influenced by distance?”
“No. Although Ordinary has an amplification effect on those abilities.”
Interesting. I’d have to go back to that little tidbit later.
“So you’d know where any of your clan is, even if they’re outside Ordinary?”
“Of course.”
“Did you know Sven wasn’t in Ordinary when he was killed?”
He was silent. Still.
“No.”
“He was killed, then dragged to the shed out by Joe Boy’s.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Bertie.”
“And how does a Valkyrie know where he was killed?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he seemed to realize what he had said.
“Exactly. Valkyrie. Good with time of death. Especially for the warrior type. So I’m guessing Sven didn’t go down without a fight. Is there anyone who was connected to him? Anyone who could have felt his death? Seen or heard his attacker?”
He tipped his head and stared at the middle distance as if he were silently reciting a list. Maybe he had turned on the prime brain-to-brain phone line and was asking that question to the clan.
“Etta. They were close. She might have felt something. Do you want me to talk to her?”
“I’d like to talk to her.”
“I’ll call for her.”
“Don’t summon her on my account. I know where her house is.”
He already had his cell phone out of his pocket, his thumbs tapping over the screen. “I’m not summoning. Vampires don’t summon. We text.”
He tucked the phone back in his pocket. “She’ll be right over.”
It was clear he didn’t want me talking to her unless he was present. “What are you worried I’ll do to her? You know I’ll be nice.”
“I’m not concerned about how well you’ll behave, Delaney. But Etta is not taking Sven’s death nearly as gracefully as I.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Good. Handle yourself here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to address the business I left in my living room.”
He glided out the door and I followed behind him. “I thought you’d stay behind.”
“I thought you knew me better.”
He stopped so quickly, I almost ran into him.
“He dumped you, remember? There was a gun involved.”
“He didn’t shoot me and this isn’t about dating. It’s about you keeping your promise not to handle this murder investigation. It’s about your promise not to grill Ryder for answers. It’s about your promise to let me do my job, not lock me away in a room like I’m the fragile shell.”
“You really should come to my meditation classes. You carry all your stress in your...” he gave me a thorough up-down glance, “...everything.”
“Say, Mr. Rossi.” Ryder chose that moment to step out of the living room, meeting us in the hall. “I got a call and have a couple things I need to take care of. But I’ve...uh...drawn up the rough estimate for what we talked about. If you have any other questions, give me a ring. I always have my phone on me.”
Rossi took the paperwork Ryder offered in the very smart binder that had his business logo embossed on the front. “I’ll be sure to find you soon,” Rossi threatened.
“I’ll be by this afternoon.” Mr. Monroy obviously was going for friendly, but something about his hard brown eyes almost made it sound like a warning. “I think your business is ready to take off, Mr. Rossi, and I can guarantee you I’m the man who can offer you a myriad of possible plans to go forward.”
“This afternoon?” Rossi raised his eyebrow and gave him a sort of half-baked smile.
So he was playing the stoner hippy with the guy. Interesting.
“I’d love to. Sure man,” he said. “I have some stuff to take care of and a couple classes to ease my way through.”
That lazy attitude was like catnip to the other guy. His dark eyes got a little wider, pupils going big. “Tonight then?”
“I don’t think you need to barge in on his free time, Jake. Tomorrow should be fine after Mr. Rossi and I have had time to go over the quote.”
I heard the words Ryder was saying, but the tone was saying something different. It said that Jake had overstepped whatever deal they had between them and Ryder was pissed.
“Oh, I’m sure Mr. Rossi would let me know if I was being a bother. Plus, I have a feeling he’s a night person. Am I right?”
Yeah, and Jake’s tone was a big middle finger to whatever Ryder had been not-saying to him.
What I couldn’t understand was why this guy was pushing so hard to talk business with Rossi. Unless that wasn’t what was going on.
For probably the first time in my life I wished Rossi were listening in on my thoughts. But since I didn’t have that skill, and in theory all vamps were instructed not to eavesdrop on mortal brains in town, I wanted to tell this guy to back off before he made himself a nuisance to the pissed off vampire who looked like he’d rather have the guy over for a midnight snack.
“Hey Jake,” Crow said, “I’d like to take you up on your offer to talk over that property I own out by Road’s End.”
Crow owned property in Road’s End? That was some of the most sought-after real estate in town.
“We’ll catch up tomorrow,” Old Rossi said. “Come by any time. My class schedule is on the web page. We’re flexible about start and stop times.”
I watched Jake try to tamp down his anger at being blown off. He clamped his back teeth and offered a stilted smile.
“Sure. That will be fine. I’ll come out tomorrow.”
“Thanks again for your time,” Ryder said. “Rossi, Crow, Chief.” He started toward the door. “Coming, Jake?”
Jake did not look like he wanted to go anywhere. He also looked like he didn’t like Ryder telling him what to do.
“Actually, I’d love it if you sat in on the talk, Ryder.” Crow flicked me a You’re welcome look. “How about I buy you gentlemen coffee? There’s a new bakery in town I’ve been wanting to try out.”
Well, that was amazing. Crow offered to cover the bill. Pretty sure it was gonna start raining frogs soon.
I might even buy an umbrella hat if that happened.
“See you later, Delaney.” He also started for the door. Jake had no choice but to walk down the hall too.
I wanted to thank Crow for getting Jake off my hands, and not giving Rossi a chance to agree to a late meeting with the man. I didn’t know what Jake really wanted, but every instinct inside me said he wasn’t just a real estate developer.
Ryder, at the door, glanced back at me and there was a look in his eyes and a rakish smile I couldn’t ignore.
Then all three men were gone, leaving me and the vampire.
“I don’t like him,” I said.
“Crow?” Rossi asked.
“Jake.”
“The Reeds have always had good instincts.”
“Promise you won’t kill him.”
Rossi didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally: “I’ll make us some tea while we wait for Etta to arrive.”
“That wasn’t a promise.”
“The Reeds have always been perceptive too.”
~~~
Etta showed up halfway through my first cup of tea. Old Rossi’s kitchen was state-of-the- art stone and chrome with navy blue accents.
His tea collection covered an entire wall of the kitchen, loose leaves carefully displayed in small glass containers. There had to be a couple thousand dollars worth of tea on those shelves.
After being informed that some of the leaves were rarer than the town, he brewed me a small pot of something that gave off a surprising peach fragrance. His own cup smelled strongly of wood and a deep green that reminded me of rain in the forest.
Etta arrived silently, in that vampire way. “You needed me?”
She wore a hoodie and jeans and was leaner than the last time I’d seen her. Her wide brown eyes were red rimmed and her dark skin seemed pale, the tumbling curls of her hair pulled back in a tight band.
Old Rossi produced another cup that smelled softly of mint and green tea and handed it to her while ushering her over to the island to sit.
She settled across from me. Rossi somehow managed to make where he sat seem like the head of the table.
Etta wrapped long fingers around her cup and stared down at it. Rossi caught my gaze and nodded toward her.
I hated having to talk to the bereaved so close to a death. I usually made Jean come along
with me. She was good at giving comfort, good at somehow making it seem like there was hope when the world was wrapped in darkness.
“I’m sorry about Sven,” I said gently. “And I’m doing everything I can to find out who is behind his death. I have a couple questions. Do you think you could answer them?”
She nodded, still staring at her cup.
“Were you dating?”
Nod.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
Pause, then her mouth curved into a watery sort of smile. “Four days ago.”
“And where were you?”
“My bedroom.” Her eyes flicked my way.
“Okay.” I nodded and took a sip of tea, encouraging her to do the same.
She seemed to notice she had a cup in her hand, then glanced over at Rossi, who also nodded toward her cup. She raised it, took a sip and pulled the cup away for a moment while the tip of her tongue darted across her lower lip. Then she tilted the cup back for a longer drink.
Some of the tension I hadn’t noticed in Old Rossi seemed to drain away. I wondered if anyone had been looking in on Etta or if I needed to make sure someone was taking care of her.
“Have you noticed anyone around him lately who didn’t like him? Anyone who wanted to argue, fight? Anyone who had made threats?”
“He worked as a bouncer,” she said. “He got threats every night.”
“Anything different or unusual?”
She held very still, her cup pressed into her bottom lip as she inhaled steam through her nose. “He said there were men there...mortal men. At the bar.”
I waited. Plenty of mortals lived in town and a world of them surrounded us. Didn’t sound unusual to me.
“They were quiet. Watched him a lot. Went to the bar every night for a week, drank, but didn’t say much. They weren’t from town.”
That still didn’t seem unusual. Maybe they were in town for a business seminar, or were passing through for a number of other reasons.
“Why did he mention them?”
“He said they smelled funny.”
I tried not to make a weird face. “Okay. How so?”
She shook her head. “He couldn’t explain. But that’s...that’s the only unusual thing he mentioned.”
“Etta,” Old Rossi spoke in a low voice. “Tell us everything.”
I didn’t know if he put any vampire influence behind it, but her eyes flashed and she put her cup down.
“Ryder Bailey was there.”
“Where?” My stomach parachuted to my knees.
“At the bar. He met those men. Sven said he looked surprised to see them, then sat with them. That was...that was the last time the men were at the bar. The last time Sven said anything about them, anyway.”
Her voice faded away to a whisper, or maybe I just lost the ability to hear her clearly over the pounding of my blood. Ryder was there. Ryder was with the suspicious, funny-smelling men. Which meant Ryder was linked to Sven. Again.
I didn’t have to look at Rossi to know what he thought about all this.
Ryder was there. Ryder’s blood was on Sven. Ryder was guilty.
Ryder wasn’t guilty unless proven so. That was my job. To prove or disprove his guilt. It occurred to me that maybe I wasn’t the best person for this job. But who else would be?
Myra and Jean both had opinions on Ryder, on him dumping me. Would they be able to push that aside and treat the case fairly?
No, I could do this. If Ryder was guilty...everything in me tightened, like a deep string in my soul had been plucked. Still, if Ryder was guilty, I could keep a clear head about it. The law, my job came first, no matter what my heart wanted to believe.
“Did Sven mention if Ryder left the bar with them?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. One more question, Etta, and then this will be over. Did you see or hear Sven’s death?”
Her pupils went wide until black nearly swallowed the thin ring of brown. Her nostrils went hard, her mouth tightened. “Yes,” she hissed.
I ignored the ice encasing my nerves and the very real instinct that was screaming danger, danger, run, run. “What did you see?”
“Hands of death. Blood of death. Eyes of fire.”
Old Rossi sipped in a quick breath. Those words didn’t mean a lot to me, but they meant something to him.
“Did you see who was there?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see his killer?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who it was? Can you describe the killer?”
“Ryder Bailey. The last person Sven saw was Ryder Bailey.”
Well, crap.