Page 4 of Unhallowed Murder (A Paranormal Halloween #2)
Chapter Four
The vampire had given a mostly non-answer, which was what she’d expected.
Ronnie took a moment to call another of her detectives and instruct him to question the two employees who hadn’t reported to work. When she disconnected, she asked the vampire, “How far into my head are you?”
“I have given you no suggestions, and I don’t intend to do so.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“I can easily monitor your thoughts. I have not attempted to delve into your memories, and at this time I have no intention of doing so.”
“There’s a reason the rest of us don’t like being around ya’ll. ”
He chuckled. “Since I see your thoughts, it’s only fair I tell you mine. However, you need to focus on your case right now. Let me know when you have time, and I’ll share them.”
“Out with it, while you’re interested in sharing.” Most vampires preferred secrecy.
“I was a general when I was a human, many, many centuries ago. I respect the hierarchy, and I place importance upon traits like honor and valor. I see all of this in you, and you’ve earned my respect.
I will assist you with this case, and when it’s over, I hope you’ll consider spending time with me in whatever way makes you comfortable.
I would very much like to get to know you better. ”
Martin would have a cow. Or, on second thought, he might order her to have a relationship with Josef, to curry favor with the powerful Strigorii coterie. “Is there a need for me to tell you my reaction to that?”
“Logical, with more practicality than humans are usually capable of under the circumstances.”
Ronnie’s thoughts flashed to the time Martin had ordered her to be food for a vampire, and she quickly pushed the thought away and focused on her case.
Josef didn’t need to know the confusion she still had around the experience.
She’d intended to hate every second of it, but it had been oddly fulfilling.
“If she knew her killer, she may have let him into her home. On the other hand, if she’d been told she likely knew the person who tried to bribe her, she may’ve been cautious about inviting people in who hadn’t been in her life in a while.
” She sighed. “Why leave her at the Haunted Maze? Dammit , we need to find the crime scene.” With any luck, she’d been killed at home, but Ronnie didn’t expect to get lucky.
“The killer likely has her phone and purse. Or, had it. Once Corey has her phone number, he’s going to find out it went off the network sometime last night, and for now, we’ll assume that’s the likely approximate time of death.
” She glanced at the vampire beside her.
“Thank you for having whoever brought you a shirt, also bring me jeans and a shirt.” She’d already thanked him, but felt she needed to again.
Before he could respond, she asked, “What country were you a general for?”
“Rome.”
“Anyone I’d recognize?”
“Without looking through your memories, I have no way of knowing how much you know of Ancient Rome.”
“My father was a history professor. My bedtime stories were full of war and blood.”
“You understand, I’m over two thousand years old and I’ve lived under at least seventy different names since then, yes? Different lives, different professions, different nationalities, different personas. I’m no longer the man who led both army and navy.”
They were approaching the victim’s home, and she told him, “Drive by slowly, so I can get a layout of the land. Make a circuit around the block and come back, please. I’m hoping I can see a little of the back of the house from another road. ”
She was silent as he drove by. No signs of a person or people, and no car in the driveway.
“So you aren’t going to tell me who you were? What happened to leveling the playing field?”
He sighed. “You don’t pull punches. I like that about you. I was once Gnaeus Pompeius.”
“Pompey the Great? Really?” He made the turn onto the road behind her victim’s house, and she peered between the houses in the hopes of getting a view of the back of Wendy Abrams’ home.
“We’ll pick this conversation up later. You need to focus on your victim.”
“No lights on in the front or back of the house. She lived alone so I don’t need a warrant. Her vehicle isn’t in the driveway, which might mean she wasn’t killed at home, or it could mean they used her car to transport her body, to avoid DNA evidence in their own vehicle.”
He turned back onto the victim’s street, and she said, “Turn your lights off now, please, and come to a slow stop in front of her house.”
She had good eyesight even when human, but she let her tiger rise enough so she could look out of the cat’s eyes.
“Standard doorknob, no deadbolt. I should be able to get in without calling a locksmith.” Because the county preferred the locksmith fee over having to pay someone to install a new doorframe and door.
“Would you do me a favor and hang out in the backyard, just to be sure no one exits as I’m entering? ”
Josef was silent a few seconds. “There are no active brains in the home — sleeping or awake.”
Ronnie smiled at him, despite her misgivings.
“You’re kind of handy to have around. Okay, I need you to stay out of the house, because there are going to be crime scene techs all over the place at some point, and you don’t want people looking at your DNA.
” She pulled a ponytail holder from her small purse and put her hair into a bun at the crown of her head.
Next came some gloves and her lock picking tools.
“I assume you can warn me telepathically if anyone approaches?”
“I can, Lieutenant.”
“My friends call me Ronnie.”
“You’ll let me know when it’s okay for me to use your familiar name, then.”
She looked straight at him and thought, You big dufus — I was telling you it’s okay.
He chuckled. “Touché.”
It took her less than twenty seconds to get in the front door. She turned the living room lights on and verbally announced her presence to the empty house because it was protocol and it felt wrong not to. Silly, since no one was there, but whatever.
The house looked to have been built in the sixties, with a fireplace someone had probably called art deco back then. The kitchen was a combination of old and new appliances — a diarrhea green stove and a black refrigerator. There was no dishwasher. Horror of horrors .
The living room and kitchen were one room, and a hallway led to three bedrooms and a small bathroom. One of the bedrooms had been turned into a workout room, one was a guest bedroom, and the other was the master bedroom, which boasted another bathroom.
Nothing seemed out of place — no reason to think there’d been a struggle, but the scents told another tale. Terror. Anger. Rage. She breathed and memorized the males’ scents. Two of them. One was likely her boyfriend, but the other had abducted her, and she’d been terrified.
However, there was no blood and no smell of bleach. They’d abducted her from her bed and transported her elsewhere to execute her. Had they entered with lock picks, jumped her while she slept, zip-tied her wrists, and forced her to walk to her own vehicle to be driven to her execution?
No . This was a nice neighborhood — the kind where neighbors call 911 when they hear screams. However, with the large yards and buffer of trees between houses, neighbors might not have heard her scream from inside the old brick house.
Had they crammed something in her mouth to keep her silent? Or would the medical examiner discover duct tape adhesive on her lips?
There was no doubt this was one of at least two crime scenes, but she couldn’t order the crime scene techs based on scents only a supernatural could smell. She stood and looked at the room, trying to find a reason to call for them .
The bed was unmade, but most people didn’t make their beds, so unless family members insisted otherwise, this likely wasn’t unusual.
There wasn’t a bedside lamp. Had it been broken in the struggle?
A cord was plugged into her alarm clock, and her phone had likely been charging on her nightstand when they took her.
Ronnie pulled her phone from her pocket and texted the FBI agent.
When and where did her cellphone fall off the network?
Agent Graham had been in contact with the victim in recent days. He’d have that number and had no doubt already checked.
Her home. Shortly after two this morning. Check the microwave.
Sealed phones don’t allow you to easily remove the battery.
Sometimes the bad guys dunk the phones in water to kill them, but sometimes they thought they were smart by microwaving them.
Leave them in too long and you get fire, but she hadn’t smelled smoke.
She checked anyway, and other than noting the microwave desperately needed a good cleaning, she saw no signs it’d been used to kill a cell phone.
Agent Graham’s information gave her a reason to request the crime scene techs — if her phone fell off the grid here, it was likely her abductors had been here. She made the call and looked over the bedroom once again.
Josef, a deputy should be here soon. He’ll camp out on the front porch and wait for the crime scene techs. I shouldn’t be much longer.
You have me until about an hour before dawn, Lieutenant. Do what you need to. I’m good.
She took pictures of every room from every wall, and then walked through with video going. The uniformed deputy she’d requested was on the front porch when she exited the home, and she instructed him that no one came in or out until another detective showed up with the crime scene unit.
She made a call to Corey, her tech guy, on the walk across the yard, back to the car. “Has anyone else used the victim’s home as an official residence since the she moved in?” He’d get around to checking that eventually, but she needed to know now.
“A boyfriend who seems to’ve moved out two years ago, but I have another lead to check out — social media’s given me a first cousin with a shitload of priors.”