Jesse stared at me as if looking for some kind of reassurance that I could be trusted. Then he lowered his voice. “Listen, I found something, too—maybe. My supervisor’s had me going through the reports of all the police incidents that have ever taken place at the park. I thought it was just busywork, but I actually found this one case that I think is...significant.” He pulled a folded sheath of paper from his back pocket and slid it over to me.
The top page was a Xeroxed school photo of a young girl. The second page was an adolescent boy, maybe sixteen or so. Their names were handwritten under the photos.
“Jared and Emily Hess,” Jesse continued. “Ten years ago, twelve-year-old Emily disappeared from the park. The kids were climbing trees after the park had closed for the night, and Jared fell asleep on a high branch. When he woke up, he claimed that strangers had bitten his sister to death and that a third party had taken the body away. The police came with dogs, forensics, the whole nine yards. They found a little bit of Emily’s blood, but no other trace of the girl. Eventually, the cops started looking at Jared.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. His story was crazy, and there were a few other things—kid got into fights at school, a couple pets in the neighborhood had disappeared, that kind of stuff. Nothing solid, but the officers on the case thought Jared was the best suspect. They really gave him the runaround—interrogation, juvie, where the other kids beat the shit out of him, by the way, psychiatric care, anything our guys could think of to try to get him to change his story. Kid never did, though, and eventually, the father sued the department for pushing too hard. They settled out of court.”
“Huh.” I looked at the photo of Jared. Where Emily’s school pose was sweet and simple, this shot had been taken at the police station, and it was obvious that Jared had been badly beaten just before the photo. His face was swollen and unrecognizable, a trickle of blood at his mouth. He must not have been the toughest kid at juvenile detention. There was something familiar about his defiant expression, but I couldn’t place it.
“Where is Jared now?”
“That’s the thing—nobody knows. All his financial and tax records go up until five years ago, and then they just stop. It’s like the guy vanished into thin air. And, Scarlett, that really doesn’t happen anymore.” He tapped the date at the top of the photocopied police report. “The thing is, there are dozens of reports like this in the La Brea Park file. Other incidents, even a couple of murders. But this one...This was ten years ago today.”
The blonde marched up and plopped my mug of chai tea in front of me on the table, letting it slosh a little. Okay, now she was starting to piss me off. I dug a five out of my pocket and handed it over. “Thanks so much,” I said sweetly. “You can keep the change for your tip.” Which amounted to about fifteen cents. I hoped she would put it toward a back brace.
Ignoring her reaction, I reached over to take Jesse’s hand. “Baby, what were you saying?”
The blonde huffed away again. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he squeezed my hand gently, giving me an open look that made me wish I hadn’t restarted this charade.
“Anyway,” he said, a little awkward, “I guess it’s possible that Jared Hess really did kill his sister. But the anniversary thing...This has gotta be it, right? It was really vampires who killed Emily Hess?”
Jared. Jay. “Yes.” My voice was firm, and Jesse’s face changed with my response.
He carefully removed his hand from mine. “Scarlett...your mentor, the other null...”
Oh crap. I suddenly remembered who I was talking to, and realized what was coming. “Yeah?”
“I know you guys get rid of evidence, but she wouldn’t have taken a little girl’s body, right?”
I flinched. “Yeah, she would have,” I said soberly. “If a vampire really killed Emily Hess, and it looked obvious enough, Olivia would have taken the body to an incinerator and had it destroyed. The family would never have found out what had happened.” Plenty of bones had gone into Artie’s furnace over the years, and not all of them were from adults.
Jesse searched my face. “But you’ve never done that, right?” His voice sounded just like Corry’s had when she asked me if vampires and werewolves were evil. Like he was begging me to tell him it wasn’t true.
But I couldn’t. Oh, I could have lied, I suppose, but there was a part of me that had been eaten up by this, and that part thought I deserved what was coming to me. “Once. A teenage boy, maybe fourteen.” I cringed at the memory. The vampire hadn’t actually drained the kid’s blood, though just drinking from him was bad enough. Instead, though, the vamp had pushed too hard while he was feeding and broken the fourteen-year-old’s neck. Necks are delicate when you have enhanced strength; that’s part of why vampires don’t usually feed from them anymore.
The puncture marks were enough for Dashiell to call me in for body disposal. Then he had promised me that the vampire would die, too. I’d had nightmares about that one for months.
Jesse was leaning back in his seat, wincing as if I’d just slapped him. “Every time I think I’m getting to know you, it turns out I’m wrong,” he said, with quiet, exacting anger laced through his voice. “I’ve worked cases like that, where a child’s body was never found, and it’s excruciating.” He shook his head. “I just...I never would have thought you’d be capable of something like that.”
I said nothing, staring miserably into my tea.
He nodded to himself, as though that were an answer, and stood up, dropping money on the table. “I know we’re on a deadline, but I need...I need to take a walk. I’ll call you in a little while.”
“Jesse, wait—” I said feebly.
He turned and stiffly walked out. I sat there for a full minute without moving. And then I remembered that I hadn’t told him about the meeting with Jay.
Shit.
Chapter 27