Thirst
Page 4

 Jacquelyn Frank

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“Will do. I’ll be completely objective. But be prepared…you never know what’s going to turn up in a weird case like this.”
“I’ll be sure to brace myself. Thanks, Stella.”
Renee pulled out her pad and, with a shrug, she jotted down the words “vampire-like marks on back of neck” even though she was loath to do so. But this was an investigation. She couldn’t close her mind to anything, and she had to be thorough. If that meant chasing a vampire angle…well, then she would chase that angle.
She spent the next hour sifting through more witnesses. Most of them didn’t come into play until after they heard Roxy’s owner scream. Some saw the perp’s back. One noticed he was wearing a rather expensive coat. In the end, Anna Sophia was the only one to see the perpetrator’s face. But the others did corroborate his general height and build and the fact that he was white with dark hair.
Renee hooked up with Jimmy a short time later. She rubbed at her nose a little, trying to get some sensation back into the frozen organ. She’d been standing out in the bitter cold more than long enough. She was ready for some hot coffee and a warm precinct.
“Let’s get back. I want to re-interview our witness back at the house. She’s waiting for us there. Maybe she’ll have remembered something new now that she’s had a chance to calm down.”
“She got a good look at him, eh?”
“Yup. Let’s hope she’s more reliable than she first sounded.”
“Why? What’d she say?”
Renee repeated the victim’s statement and Jimmy snorted with laughter. “Great. This is going to be one of those cases.”
“Remember what I said. Keep your mind open to all the possibilities.”
“C’mon. You’re not thinking there’s really a vampire out there!”
“I think there are more things in this world than most of us will come across in our lifetimes.”
“Like vampires,” Jimmy scoffed.
“Not real vampires. People who think and act like vampires. There’s an entire subculture out there that devotes itself to acting like or believing in vampires. Our job is to infiltrate that culture and get some photos for our witness to look at. This guy is out there somewhere and he thinks he’s Lestat. In the end that’ll make him easier to find. That’s the beauty of a subculture: They tend to be encapsulated and small, and it’ll cut down our suspect pool from thousands of possibles to just a couple of hundred or less. Let’s get back and run this MO through ViCAP. Maybe our vampire’s killed before.”
“I’d bet you five bucks he has.”
“You don’t have five bucks. And I wouldn’t take that bet. My gut tells me this isn’t the first time this guy’s killed. He did this in broad daylight. That means he’s either acting passionately—without thought or planning—or he’s cocky. He’s gotten away with it before so he thinks he’s impervious to getting caught. I’m leaning toward the latter. But don’t quote me on that until we get the coroner’s report back and we find out how this guy died exactly.”
“Until then, we’ve got a buttload of paperwork and other cases to work on.”
“I’m freezing. Let’s go.”
“I’m driving,” Jimmy said quickly.
“I’ve got the keys,” Renee countered in a singsong voice.
“Aww man…c’mon!”

Rafe watched the pretty little detective get into the driver’s seat of the relatively nondescript black car, taking her measure from a distance. He had stood in the crowd of onlookers, watching her work and had maneuvered so he could hear almost everything that passed between her and the witnesses.
Man this was a fuckup. Whoever this had been, he’d almost gotten caught and he had left a hell of a mess behind him. It was clear this was no one he knew; everyone he was acquainted with knew better than to show their ass and put their entire society at risk. He was going to have to keep on top of this somehow. The only way he could think of was currently getting in a car. If he could get close to her, maybe he could keep abreast of her investigation and keep a lid on this.
Maybe. Not likely. But he would do his best. At the very least it would keep him informed.
Rafe went back to his car. He had heard which precinct she was at, and made his way over there. But when he got to the precinct he didn’t go inside. He didn’t want to show his face just yet. That would come in time. First, he needed to follow Detective Holden around a little. He would then wait for an opportune moment to introduce himself.
 
 
Chapter 2

Renee got home late. It had already begun to snow by the time she entered the Brooklyn brownstone which had been separated into three apartments, one on each floor. Her apartment was on the top floor. As she was passing the second floor apartment, the door opened and her friend Emily popped her head out. “Hey, you! Just in time to get in out of the storm!”
“I’ll be back out in that storm tomorrow. I have to work. Murder doesn’t take a holiday.”
“Well, that’s rather morose.” Emily stepped out onto the landing. She was dressed in her nurse’s scrubs.
“What about you? Do you have to go to work in the snow?”
“Nope. The doc closed her office. Canceled all her appointments. It pays to work for a woman who was raised in the South. She chickens out at the first sign of flakes.”
“She’s not that bad,” Renee said with a laugh.
“No. And a lot of places have closed in anticipation of the storm. It was the smart thing to do.”
“I agree.”
“So are you in for the night at least?”
“Not quite, Em. I’ve been putting off shopping for days. I better go before the snow really hits. Otherwise I’ll starve.”
“We’re in Brooklyn, Renee. We have the United Nations of food options all around the block. You won’t starve.”
“You know I prefer not to eat out.”
“Oh yeah. Queen healthy. All hail the organic produce empress!” Emily gave her a mock bow.
“Ha ha. I have a documentary on pesticides. If you like, you can watch it and see why you should avoid conventional foods.”
“No thanks. I prefer to live in ignorance.”