“Yeah, like I’d look at porn in the living room,” he scoffed. I kept staring at him, so he sighed and opened the laptop. “I just didn’t think you needed to see this.”
“What?” I reached for his computer, tilting the screen towards me, and then I saw it.
7
The giant photo on the screen was color, but the overcast day, gray concrete, and dirty snow almost made it look black and white. I would’ve thought it was, if it wasn’t for the dark reddish stains that spilled out in the center of the photo, and the black policeman’s shoes standing next to it.
The headline over it read, “Minneapolis Officials Deny Serial Killer,” and in smaller print below it, “After the third death in a string of similar murders, residents fear for their safety.”
But I barely even read the words. My eyes were focused on the blood splashed over the sidewalk. I could see just enough of the buildings to make out that it was Hennepin Avenue, where Jane had been found. This was her crime scene.
“That’s… this’s Jane’s blood?” I asked numbly and sat down on the couch next to Bobby.
“Sorry.” Bobby moved to close the box, but I stopped him and took the laptop from him. “Are you sure wanna look at that?”
“No,” I said but clicked on the link to read the full story.
The article didn’t say much more than Jack had already told me. Three girls, aged eighteen and nineteen, had been left discarded around downtown Minneapolis in the early morning hours. Since the crime scenes yielded no evidence, they assumed the girls had been killed elsewhere and were posed to be found.
The most surreal part of it was reading about Jane in such matter of fact way, like she wasn’t a flesh and blood person I’d known for ten years.
“Jane Kress, 18, is the latest suspected victim. Her body was discovered at 4:35 am on January 16. She suffered multiple stab wounds, like the other two victims.
Kress had been known to frequent the nightclubs in the area and had returned from a treatment center on January 14. It had been a planned 90-day stay, but Kress left after only 24 days. When asked for comment, both the center and her family declined to say what Kress had been treated for, or what led to her early departure.”
I read the article through three times, and Bobby sat on the couch next to me, saying nothing. I leaned back on the couch, staring at the screen as if I expected something new to happen. But nothing did. It didn’t tell me anything more about why Jane was dead.
“Why were you looking at this?” I asked.
“They were talking about it in class today.” Bobby sounded apologetic and pulled at the ends of his sleeves, making them swallow his hands. “I didn’t know very much about what happened, or her for that matter, so I just… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“No, it’s okay.” I shook my head. “I’m not mad.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Where did you find this?” I asked.
“I just Googled it,” Bobby shrugged. “Why?”
“Do you think there’s more information?” I was already typing Google in, preparing to do a search for everything I could find on Jane’s murder.
“Yeah, there’s tons of information.” He moved closer so he could look at the screen with me. “A lot of the major news networks have picked up the stories, especially since Jane got murdered.”
“Why?” I glanced over at him as I sifted through the endless list Google gave me, all mentioning Jane’s name.
“Cause she’s rich and beautiful. The other two girls were poor, and one of them was allegedly a hooker,” Bobby said. “But what are you trying to find out?”
“I want to find Jane’s killer.” I paused as Bobby looked expectantly at me. “I’m going to kill him.”
“That’s a little sexist, don’t you think?”
“How is revenge murder sexist?” I shot him a look.
“You automatically assumed her murderer is a guy,” he said. “It could be a girl.” I thought of Violet again, but I pushed her from my mind.
“Serial killers aren’t usually women, but alright, whatever,” I shrugged. “I’m going to kill whoever killed Jane.”
“Do you think a human killed her?” Bobby asked.
I was pleasantly surprised that he hadn’t tried talking me out of it. He didn’t even question it, as if going after a serial killer was the most logical thing in the world. It was stuff like that that made me dig Bobby.
“I don’t know what to think.” I clicked a link and leaned into the screen, devouring as much information about the whole thing as I could. “I mean, at first, I thought it was a vampire. For sure. But now... all these articles are saying there wasn’t a mark on the girls.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Bobby said, and I looked over at him.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s always one detail the police hold back,” he explained. “That’s how they can verify people’s claims when they say they killed her or they saw it happen or whatever. There’s always one thing they keep out of the press that only the killer would know.”
“And that one thing could be bite marks?” I asked, and my heart thudded in my chest.
“Right,” Bobby nodded. “And I’ve always wondered what kind of relationship vampires had with city officials anyway.”
“What kind of relationship?” I wrinkled my nose.
“Well, remember in the fall, when the lycan killed that guy in the park and Ezra’s car was right there?” Bobby asked. “Ezra got the Lexus out of impound without any problems. He was never questioned in the homicide, and I’m pretty sure that guy’s murder was written up as mugging related.”
“That could never pass for a mugging,” I said incredulously. “He had his throat ripped out.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “And V is open until seven in the morning. How could they possibly get licensing for that? And they don’t card anyone that goes in there, ever. It’s easier to get into a vampire club than it is any other club in the city.”
“You think that the city officials are on a vampire payroll or something?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Probably not a payroll, but some of them have to be involved with the vampires in some way to cover this all up.”
“What?” I reached for his computer, tilting the screen towards me, and then I saw it.
7
The giant photo on the screen was color, but the overcast day, gray concrete, and dirty snow almost made it look black and white. I would’ve thought it was, if it wasn’t for the dark reddish stains that spilled out in the center of the photo, and the black policeman’s shoes standing next to it.
The headline over it read, “Minneapolis Officials Deny Serial Killer,” and in smaller print below it, “After the third death in a string of similar murders, residents fear for their safety.”
But I barely even read the words. My eyes were focused on the blood splashed over the sidewalk. I could see just enough of the buildings to make out that it was Hennepin Avenue, where Jane had been found. This was her crime scene.
“That’s… this’s Jane’s blood?” I asked numbly and sat down on the couch next to Bobby.
“Sorry.” Bobby moved to close the box, but I stopped him and took the laptop from him. “Are you sure wanna look at that?”
“No,” I said but clicked on the link to read the full story.
The article didn’t say much more than Jack had already told me. Three girls, aged eighteen and nineteen, had been left discarded around downtown Minneapolis in the early morning hours. Since the crime scenes yielded no evidence, they assumed the girls had been killed elsewhere and were posed to be found.
The most surreal part of it was reading about Jane in such matter of fact way, like she wasn’t a flesh and blood person I’d known for ten years.
“Jane Kress, 18, is the latest suspected victim. Her body was discovered at 4:35 am on January 16. She suffered multiple stab wounds, like the other two victims.
Kress had been known to frequent the nightclubs in the area and had returned from a treatment center on January 14. It had been a planned 90-day stay, but Kress left after only 24 days. When asked for comment, both the center and her family declined to say what Kress had been treated for, or what led to her early departure.”
I read the article through three times, and Bobby sat on the couch next to me, saying nothing. I leaned back on the couch, staring at the screen as if I expected something new to happen. But nothing did. It didn’t tell me anything more about why Jane was dead.
“Why were you looking at this?” I asked.
“They were talking about it in class today.” Bobby sounded apologetic and pulled at the ends of his sleeves, making them swallow his hands. “I didn’t know very much about what happened, or her for that matter, so I just… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“No, it’s okay.” I shook my head. “I’m not mad.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Where did you find this?” I asked.
“I just Googled it,” Bobby shrugged. “Why?”
“Do you think there’s more information?” I was already typing Google in, preparing to do a search for everything I could find on Jane’s murder.
“Yeah, there’s tons of information.” He moved closer so he could look at the screen with me. “A lot of the major news networks have picked up the stories, especially since Jane got murdered.”
“Why?” I glanced over at him as I sifted through the endless list Google gave me, all mentioning Jane’s name.
“Cause she’s rich and beautiful. The other two girls were poor, and one of them was allegedly a hooker,” Bobby said. “But what are you trying to find out?”
“I want to find Jane’s killer.” I paused as Bobby looked expectantly at me. “I’m going to kill him.”
“That’s a little sexist, don’t you think?”
“How is revenge murder sexist?” I shot him a look.
“You automatically assumed her murderer is a guy,” he said. “It could be a girl.” I thought of Violet again, but I pushed her from my mind.
“Serial killers aren’t usually women, but alright, whatever,” I shrugged. “I’m going to kill whoever killed Jane.”
“Do you think a human killed her?” Bobby asked.
I was pleasantly surprised that he hadn’t tried talking me out of it. He didn’t even question it, as if going after a serial killer was the most logical thing in the world. It was stuff like that that made me dig Bobby.
“I don’t know what to think.” I clicked a link and leaned into the screen, devouring as much information about the whole thing as I could. “I mean, at first, I thought it was a vampire. For sure. But now... all these articles are saying there wasn’t a mark on the girls.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Bobby said, and I looked over at him.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s always one detail the police hold back,” he explained. “That’s how they can verify people’s claims when they say they killed her or they saw it happen or whatever. There’s always one thing they keep out of the press that only the killer would know.”
“And that one thing could be bite marks?” I asked, and my heart thudded in my chest.
“Right,” Bobby nodded. “And I’ve always wondered what kind of relationship vampires had with city officials anyway.”
“What kind of relationship?” I wrinkled my nose.
“Well, remember in the fall, when the lycan killed that guy in the park and Ezra’s car was right there?” Bobby asked. “Ezra got the Lexus out of impound without any problems. He was never questioned in the homicide, and I’m pretty sure that guy’s murder was written up as mugging related.”
“That could never pass for a mugging,” I said incredulously. “He had his throat ripped out.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “And V is open until seven in the morning. How could they possibly get licensing for that? And they don’t card anyone that goes in there, ever. It’s easier to get into a vampire club than it is any other club in the city.”
“You think that the city officials are on a vampire payroll or something?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Probably not a payroll, but some of them have to be involved with the vampires in some way to cover this all up.”
