Page 10 of The Psychic and the Vampire: A Bad Case of Vampire Curiosity

“You know, Able, the world would be far easier to navigate if absolutely every person on this planet were forced to tell the truth from the moment they turned five.” Ant sighed as he sat in his big chair in his office, Able lying at his feet, his head on Ant’s boots.

All Ant was looking forward to at breakfast had been a peaceful, quiet time in the sunshine with his mate.

The type of scenario completely shattered by Bridget’s arrival with that damn folder.

The same folder Ant was tapping, although he realized it was a futile action.

That wasn’t going to tell him what was in it.

There was so much chaos in his mind – so much emotion - Ant was struggling to find his center.

Closing his eyes, Ant sent out his senses, looking for anything, anybody, any spirit, any connection, anything at all, that would just give him a nudge in the right direction.

Unfortunately, because his house was so well warded, there wasn’t a spirit to be found when he needed one.

Which meant Ant was back to relying on his gut instinct and facts.

One thing was absolute. It didn’t sit right with him to ignore the murder of Carol Doukas.

Okay, if the killer had already been found…

but Ant didn’t know that for sure. He pondered the folder.

Bridget said that there had to be evidence tying the man to the murder, but what could that be?

In Ant’s previous dealings with the police, he never asked about evidence, or what the police already knew before he did a scene reading or sat in on an interview. He never wanted any details or assumptions by others to influence what he saw in a vision.

Ant has always been meticulous in recording what it was he saw in a scene.

He never discussed how a scene made him feel or any of his personal reactions to what he’d seen.

Emotions weren’t facts. Ant liked to think that was why he had the solid reputation he had…

Although that didn’t mean anything to Captain Bains.

That line of thinking wasn’t helpful to Ant’s state of mind, either.

I need facts. Carmine had said that Mike had worked on his sister’s case and implied he hadn’t put any effort into it.

Ant looked down, flicking the folder open, and glancing through it, skim reading the half a dozen pages that were there.

Expecting Carmine’s notes, he was surprised to see it was actually a police case file.

It wasn’t much. There was a medical examiner’s report.

They declared there was no trace evidence on the woman’s body relating to another person.

There was also no evidence of any form of injury that might have actually caused her death.

She had been found three months after she had likely died. The medical examiner did confirm that.

How old was she? Checking the cover page of the file, Carol was listed as twenty-five years old. Looking up, Ant stared out of the window. Twenty-five was a young age to die of natural causes – not impossible, but not likely.

Could she have been subject to a magical potion or spell? Ant considered the possibility. If that had happened, then it was likely any trace of a magical method used would’ve dissipated after three months, although a skilled potion tracker could’ve probably found something.

Ant checked the file again. There was no mention of the medical examiner having asked for any magical form of testing.

Why? Did Carmine refuse permission for that to be done?

That was always a possibility. In the absence of that testing, the medical examiner’s office confirmed that Carol Doukas likely died of a heart attack, although there was no other evidence in the autopsy to suggest previous heart problems.

“I don’t know why the ME does that,” Ant muttered. “It’s obvious that a person’s heart will stop if they’re dead. I honestly think they put that in sometimes when they don’t actually know the cause of death at all.”

That definitely seemed to be the problem in Carol’s case.

She was fully clothed when found. She clearly showed signs of decomposition, but there was no evidence of blunt force trauma, of any stabbings or wounds caused by a gun, or anything else.

Her neck and voice box were intact. It was as if she was just walking along and dropped dead, which was another possibility.

In Viktor’s words, “unlikely,” but it was possible.

Of course, there’s the little issue of what she was doing in the park in the first place , Ant thought.

He knew he’d have to do a scene reading to get any ideas about that.

Flicking a glance at the door, Ant frowned.

He could sense through the bond he had with Viktor that his mate and Bridget were talking.

Their distrust of him hurt. Ant had no way of avoiding that.

It wasn’t a feeling that he had very often, and he didn’t like it.

People had been mean to him in the past. They took one look at his short stature and apparently innocent face and bluntly ignored his facts or brushed off his ideas, especially when he had been younger.

But Ant had persisted, proved his worth, built his reputation on facts and his attention to detail, so those incidents didn’t happen as often anymore.

I shouldn’t have to prove my worth with my own family , he thought. He was fairly sure that was true. Bridget had always been his staunchest supporter, and he truly believed that Viktor was, too.

So, what is it about Carmine that has got them so on edge?

Ant considered what he knew about the man.

He had only touched him once, and it was a few years before.

He remembered a flash of different sensations.

The man had apparently had a rough morning, and the contact was so quick that Ant wasn’t able to absorb it all.

Thinking back on it now, it was almost impossible for Ant to recall what it was he saw definitively or why.

He did know Carmine had put on a facade of a respectful, attentive, and yet respectable date for his sister. He also remembered seeing enough to know that Carmine was a criminal and a liar.

Carmine didn’t know who I was back then .

Ant was almost certain of that. Bridget had always been careful about what she shared about him.

Which meant that when Ant and Carmine met, Carmine shouldn’t have known anything beyond the fact that Ant was Bridget’s sibling. Bridget and Ant preferred it that way.

There were some, like the Gregory Ant had mentioned to Carmine, who had apparently actively sought out Bridget because of her connection to him.

But Ant couldn’t see how Carmine would’ve done the same thing, and there was definitely no way Carmine could’ve predicted Ant would have anything to do with taking down Tony Manzano years later.

With no clear facts in mind, Ant went back to reading the papers in the case file. His mind was leading him around in circles, and Ant tended to get annoyed when that happened. He already knew that without basic clear-cut facts, he wasn’t going to resolve anything.

There were precious few facts in the file. In a way, Ant could understand Carmine’s annoyance. But Bridget was right. They did arrest a man for the murder approximately a year after Carol’s body was found.

A man with no name?

Ant flicked one page over, then flicked it back.

And then he quickly shuffled through the other pages in the folder.

No name for the person arrested and jailed.

No case notes relating to the trial. As Ant searched for some indication of where the missing information might be, he noticed other anomalies with the file.

There should have been interviews - full transcripts of interviews with witnesses, friends of Carol’s, neighbors, even Carmine and other family members.

None of that was in the file. Acting on a hunch, Ant quickly checked the printing date and page number that was always written in tiny script at the bottom of every page.

The text was so small, it was easy to overlook unless a person knew what the numbers meant.

It was the police’s way of ensuring that no pages were ever missing from their case notes.

There were at least twenty pages missing.

Resting the file on his lap, Ant looked out the window.

Why would Carmine give me a file that only included half the information?

Ant assumed Carmine had requested the full file under the Public Information Act.

Carmine had every right to do that because the case was closed.

Because the case was closed!

You fool, Ant. He tapped his head in annoyance.

Carmine wouldn’t even have access to the police files if they were still actively working on the case, and despite Carmine’s cynicism about what had or had not been done in his sister’s case, if someone had not been charged with Carol’s murder, then the case would still be open, even if it wasn’t being actively worked on.

If the killer hadn’t been found, like Carmine claimed, then he shouldn’t have had the case files at all.

Ant went through the papers one last time, trying to see if anything Carmine had said might be true.

There were definitely missing pages – a lot of them.

Ant noticed a reference to Mike. He was mentioned in a brief log entry on page three.

Captain Bains had added his signature to an official stamp on the back page of the file.

It was not a copy, it was the original file. Confirmation that the case was closed.

There was nothing about the alleged murderer.

Nothing about how that person was found, or what evidence, if any, tied that nameless man to the crime in the first place.

Ant frowned at that. Bridget said there was evidence – maybe she was referring to what was reported in the news at the time? Ant made a mental note to ask her.

Pondering questions was preferable to trying to process hurt feelings.

The key issue was why Carmine provided him with a file that had barely any useful information in it at all.

Ant knew there were pages missing. In particular, pages referring to the arrest and trial of the man who had apparently been convicted of Carol Doukas’s murder.

Thinking about it, Ant could see that Carmine might remove those pages if he wanted Ant to believe that a killer hadn’t been found at all. That all led credence to Viktor’s assertion that Carmine was outright lying to him. But that didn’t explain to Ant why Carmine would do that.

I could probably get another copy of Carol’s case file – the police would have to have kept one. Ant pulled out his phone. There was another message there waiting for him from Captain Bains, and yet another one from Prosecutor Hammond.

Hammond…Hammond. Ant thought about the man for a moment. Ant didn’t want to get in touch with the police captain unless it was a matter of life or death. Until he knew why the man had essentially turned against him, he wanted to stay well away from that whole situation.

But Hammond was different. He was the head prosecutor, and Ant had never had any issues with him.

The only reason Ant hadn’t answered his calls in the previous weeks was because he was sure all Hammond would be interested in was how Ant’s resignation as a police consultant might impact any open cases he was still waiting to take to court.

As Ant didn’t know, he didn’t see the point in talking about it.

Ant was fairly sure Hammond was a local – he recalled reading somewhere that the man had lived in town all his life. While he might not have been the main prosecutor ten years ago, Hammond was old enough to have worked as a lawyer back when Carol was murdered.

The door to his office opened as Ant hit the call button.

He glanced up as Viktor came in quietly, Ant’s coffee mug in his hand.

Ignoring his mate for a moment, Ant waited for the call to be answered.

“I’d like to speak to Prosecutor Hammond, please.

Let him know it’s Doctor Channon calling. Thank you, I’ll hold.”

“You were right that Carmine lied to me,” Ant murmured as Viktor came closer. “But that’s not going to stop me finding out why.”

“I’ll help.” Handing his mug over, Viktor sat on the floor, on the opposite side to Able, crossing his arms over his bent knees. “What do you need?”

Ant held up a finger as Hammond answered his phone. And then, because Ant didn’t like feeling hurt by his mate anymore, he put the call on speaker phone.

“Doctor Channon, I’ve been trying to call you for ages.”

“Mr. Hammond, what can you tell me about the Carol Doukas case from ten years ago?”