“James,” I said carefully, “were you Abraham’s human servant, too?”
And just that quickly, the last traces of bravado vanished and the bald man’s eyes began to shine a little. Deflated, he looked down into his drink and made a snuffling noise, mumbling, “Don’t tell nobody. I got a wife.”
I worked to keep my expression even. I didn’t know what a normal human would see in this guy, much less a vampire who could have his pick of the groupies.
“We won’t,” Cruz promised.
“Me and Freedner talked the day after, you know, the bodies. He was the one who called Dashiell when Abe didn’t show up for their plans. But neither of us know a damn thing about why they got killed. Abe wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary—that we knew about—and nobody had threatened him.”
“Was there anyone who would have wanted Abraham dead?” I asked. “Anyone who hated him?”
“No. Abe was...He was very calm, you know? Like, a nice guy. I know he was a vamp and all, but it’s hard to see anyone wanting to kill him. That’s why he did such good work. He kept the peace.”
I looked over at Cruz. He had this look on his face like wheels were turning.
“Did you two know about each other?” he asked. “You and Freedner?”
“Oh, sure. There was...ah...a bit of a rivalry for Abe’s attention, but it was friendly. Tom works third shift, and I keep daytime hours, so we were able to split up the nights okay. Tom was with Abe in the early evening, and I had the early morning when everyone was asleep.”
“James,” Cruz said quietly, “where were you two nights ago? Around three a.m.?”
Rucker’s eyes narrowed, calculating, and I saw Cruz’s hand drift slowly back toward his hip. But then Rucker relaxed. “Hey! That was the night my wife and me, we’d gone down to San Diego to visit our son.” He looked at me. “He’s a freshman at San Diego State, doing real good.”
“Can you prove you were there?” Cruz prompted.
“There will be credit card records and stuff from the trip, and the hotel we stayed at—the Holiday Inn by campus—they might remember me ‘cause I chatted with the guy about the free cookies in the lobby.” He peered suspiciously at Cruz. “You’re not gonna question my wife, are you?”
Cruz had produced a small notebook and was writing down the details. He looked up. “We’ll start with the hotel and the cards. But if those fall through, yes, I’ll have to ask her.”
“Can you tell her something else? Like...” His brow furrowed a moment; then he brightened. “There was something stolen at work, and they’re asking everybody, something like that?”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Cruz took down both Rucker’s and Freedner’s addresses and phone numbers, and we headed out. On the street, I stopped and leaned against my car, stretching my stomach muscles, which had gone stagnant. There had been a lot of driving today, which is kind of par for the course in LA, but I was still feeling a little cramped and sore. It was a lovely California night, sixty degrees with a soft breeze, and I closed my eyes, resting for a moment. I was so tired.
I felt Cruz lean against the car next to me. I had about fifteen seconds of peace before the questions started again.
“So, what was that?” Cruz asked. “Vampires have multiple human servants? I thought they only kept one.”
I opened my eyes. “Most do. Having a human servant is kind of like having a mistress. They’re whiny, they’re annoying, they require constant gifts and attention—all just so you can get what you want when you want it. Why would anyone have two of those? But some vampires do keep more than one, yes.”
“And from the wife comment, I take it there’s usually...intercourse?”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Dude. Don’t say intercourse. You sound like my seventh grade health teacher. But yes, there’s almost always a sexual component to the human servant thing. And vampires are a lot less picky about sexual preference.”
He mulled that over for a while, then asked, “Do they love each other? Are vampires capable of love?”
That woke me up. I looked over at him, but he was just gazing back with calm curiosity. “That,” I said finally, “is the big question. Human servants would definitely say yes—they all think they’re in a Twilight book.” Which makes them easy pickings for any vampire willing to style his hair and slouch around looking sour.
“What do you think?”
I paused. It had been a long time since anyone at work had asked me that. A few months after I started doing crime scene cleanup with Olivia, I had asked her if vampires had souls. Could they feel? Could they love?
“What do you think?” she’d said.
I had thought it over for a long time. “I think it’s kind of like breathing. They don’t need to do it, it doesn’t come naturally, but they remember the feeling and the need. And they can pretend when they have to.”
She’d smiled broadly at me, her star and only pupil, but she never really answered. To this day, I still don’t really know. I call them the undead, and they don’t need to breathe or eat or have a pulse, but for all I know, they’re normal people with a disease that makes them distant and frozen. Who knows?
Cruz was waiting for my answer, looking very serious, and very young, though he had to be at least five years older than me. I realized again how strange and new this all must be for him. I felt the responsibility of it, of teaching him to navigate this world. If I did it wrong, he could get himself killed so easily.