Bad Moon Rising
“Speaking of which,” Gus said awkwardly, “tell her that I’m, you know, sorry for her loss and all. Mark was pretty okay. Connie, too.”
“Sure, Gus, I’ll tell her. Your guys learn anything more from the crime scene? Like…how they got in?”
“Yeah, well we’re working on that. Got a few things locked down, though, like the security camera. Someone poured a cup of coffee into the switching box that runs all the cameras on the basement level. That doesn’t require any kind of special access except getting into the electrical room, and since Ruger broke in a couple of weeks ago and shut all the power down, that door’s been left open more often than not because of all the work they’re doing to reinforce the locks and frame.”
Crow smiled. “Let me get this straight…while working on improving security to a sensitive area of the hospital physical plant they left the door open…for convenience?”
Weinstock’s face went red. “Yes,” he said slowly, “and when I say heads will roll, I mean actual heads will be on the floor.”
“Christ on a stick.” Crow shook his head.
“The hospital morgue is still a crime scene,” Gus said. “I posted a guard, and the doc here has authorized installation of a new video security system. There’s a guy coming up from Lower Makefield to install it today.”
“Screw the budget committee,” Weinstock growled. “I’m tired of this place being a laughingstock.”
“A little late for that. Well, see you guys. I’ll keep you posted.” Gus gave them a cheery wave and headed off.
“Jackass,” Weinstock muttered under his breath. He and Crow headed down the hall to the solarium and bought Cokes from the machine. The room was empty, and Weinstock closed the door.
“Before you even ask,” he began, “I examined Mark and Connie as completely as I could—ostensibly to check for damage as a result of the prank—and as far as I can tell they’re actually dead.”
Crow looked skeptical. “You’re telling me you know how to check to see if someone’s a vampire?”
Weinstock sipped his soda. “Not as such, no. It’s just that they are both in phases of the rigor process consistent with normal corpses who’ve been dead as long as each of them has been.”
“Which tells us what?”
“Hell if I know. It might surprise you to know that they don’t cover vampirism in medical school, not even in Pine Deep. But…I thought you’re the expert, you’re Mr. Halloween. You tell me how I’m supposed to tell.”
“I’ve been thinking about that all night, but the folklore and the fiction just contradict each other. I don’t know what to believe.”
“Give me something I can try, damn it.”
“Well…vampires aren’t supposed to have reflections, so we could try a mirror.”
“Good…that’s easy enough.”
“After that, most of the rest of the stuff are things we can try if we’re face-to-face with one. I mean, crosses, garlic, holy water…that sort of stuff.”
That didn’t sit well with Weinstock. “If it gets to the point where we are actually face-to-face with a vampire who is awake and smiling all toothy at us, I think I might want something a little more substantial than a piece of garlic. And, news flash, Einstein, I’m Jewish. We’re notoriously short on crosses and holy water.”
“There’s that.” Crow thought about it. “There’s always, um, the whole ‘stake’ thing.”
“I was waiting for you to get to that, and I would love to hear how you’re going to explain to Val that you want to drive a stake through her dead brother’s heart.”
“She knows what’s going on.”
“Go on, tell her you want to stake Mark. I’ll watch.”
“Isn’t there something you can do during the autopsies to kind of ensure that they’re dead?”
“Considering the fact that I autopsied both Cowan and Castle and determined with all medical certainty that they were dead, and then caught them on morgue video walking around, I’d say no.”
“Val’s going to want to cremate him anyway. Connie, too, since Val was her only family. Maybe we should just convince her to expedite that process. She might go for that a lot more than…other methods.” Crow rubbed his eyes. “Or is any of this necessary?”
“Meaning?”
“Like I said earlier…is this over? Did the problem start with Ruger and Boyd? If so, now that they’re dead is the situation over?”
“Maybe they started it, I don’t know. With Cowan and Castle we know that there were at least two more of them. That’s why I’m so concerned about Mark…he was killed by Boyd, who also killed those two cops.”
“Yeah, on that subject—Cowan and Castle were buried. Have you checked their graves?”
“Have I dug them up? No. Have I checked to see if their graves look like someone crawled out…then, yes, actually,” Weinstock said, surprising him. “Every morning I check Castle’s grave in Crestville, every afternoon I swing by Rosewood Memorial here in town to look at Cowan’s. The graves look undisturbed, but we’re talking recent burials—bare earth, nothing growing there yet—so they could have been dug up and reburied, and as long as the job was done neatly, then who would know?”
“Damn.”
“Which means that we’re going to have to check.”
“Check how? Dig them up?”
Weinstock gave him a silent, steady look.
“Oh, crap,” Crow said.
Chapter 10
1
Weinstock went to do some paperwork and Crow spent some time with Val, who was awake again. They talked about Sarah’s request and then Val drifted off again, so Crow went back to the solarium to make some calls. His first was to his store and Mike answered on the fourth ring, “Crow’s Nest. We have everything you need for a happy Halloween.”
“You sound chipper, young Jedi.”
“Crow? Hey! Your friend Dave Kramer just stopped in to get some stuff for the Hayride and he told me what happened last night! I can’t believe it. How’s Val?”
“She’ll be okay.” Crow gave Mike an abbreviated version of what had happened, sparing him the more lurid details and all of the backstory. Mike kept telling him how sorry he was and to give his best to Val.
“I’ll tell her, kiddo…but listen, there’s no way I’m coming in today, and probably not tomorrow, either. You good there? I know it’s a lot to ask…”
There was a brief pause before Mike answered. “Sure, Crow…I got the routine down now. I can handle things.”
“Terrific. You know I’ll take care of you come payday.”
“Man…don’t even go there. I’m having fun here.”
“So, you’re telling me retail sales is your heart’s desire?”
“Duh, no…it’s just that I like doing this. I like being here. I feel…I don’t know…safe here.” Mike immediately added, “I know that sounds stupid and all—”
“No it doesn’t, kiddo.” The moment turned awkward and to cover it Crow said, “Take some cash from the drawer and have food delivered. Whatever you want. There’s a whole bunch of menus in the third file drawer. You need a break, just lock the place up.”
“I got it. Thanks, Crow. Look, there’s a couple customers coming in. I gotta go.” Mike hung up.
Crow frowned at the phone for a moment, saw Sarah Wolfe coming toward him. “How’s Val?”
“Sleeping.”
“Sounds like what we should all be doing. I’m heading home now to see the kids, get showered, and find some fresh clothes. I feel like I’ve been wearing these for a month.”
“I should probably do the same,” he agreed. “I must stink like a skunk.”
“A little bit worse than a skunk,” she said, trying for a joke. The effort was an encouraging sign and he gave her a smile. Sarah touched his arm. “Have you given any thought to what I asked you?”
“Yeah. About running the Festival? Sure. I talked it over with Val, and she thinks I should do it, but I still don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sarah. With all that’s happening, I’m not so sure bringing in more tourists is a good thing.”
“We have to, or the town will—”
“I know, I know.” He felt frustrated and hamstrung by having his fears on one hand and the realities of the town’s needs on the other. Sarah stood there, looking into his eyes, her need as strident as if she were shouting it. He sighed. “Oh, hell, sure. Why not?”
Sarah gave him a short, fierce hug. “Thank you, Crow…I know it doesn’t feel like it matters, not with Val and Mark and all. With what’s happening with Terry I feel the same way. But it’s what the town needs. It’ll help all of our friends. You’re doing the right thing.”
So why does it feel like I just made the worst mistake of my life? he asked himself, but to her he just smiled and nodded.
Sarah gave him another quick peck on the cheek and left. He got up and bought a Yoo-hoo from the machine, shook it, cracked it open, and drank half of it down as he sank back onto the couch, punching in another number on his phone.
“Hey, Newt? It’s me.”
“Crow…what’s…um, happening? Is there anything new?” The reporter sounded wary, and Crow couldn’t blame him.
“What condition are you in?”
“I’m a train wreck. What the hell do you think?”
“Well, maybe this will help.” He brought Newton up to speed on everything, emphasizing their belief that the whole thing was pretty much over except for Boyd’s missing body.
“Doesn’t feel over,” Newton said.