La Vida Vampire

“Good work, ladies. I’ll get this in circulation and run it against the database. Saber, the statement Ms. Marinelli needs to sign is on my desk. She’s free to go after that.”


“I have two questions,” Saber said as I read then signed the statement. “Did you write the narrative about the tours?”

I pulled the eight single-spaced printed sheets from my purse and handed them over almost before he finished asking.

“Thanks. You have a ride home?”

“No, would you mind?”

Did he seem to brighten? “Let me check out with March.”

He did, and we were at the lobby threshold when Etienne Fournier barged through the double doors to the reception desk.

“I must speak with the Detective March, immédiatement,” he demanded as dramatically as Yolette would have. “Vite, vite.”

I wondered what the hurry was and if he truly didn’t blame me for his bride’s death. Maybe I shouldn’t be here when he turned around.

I tugged on Saber’s sleeve to drag him out while Etienne was distracted, but Etienne spotted us and rushed to me.

“Ah, Ms. Marinelli, Francesca!” He grabbed my right hand and pressed a kiss on it. “I am so sorry it was you who found my pauvre Yolette. And yet non. You saved her from disappearing altogether. To have her vanish and never know what had happened? I should be devastated.”

Saber’s warmth at my back steadied me. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Mr. Fournier,” I said as I gently pulled my hand away.

“C’est une tragédie! I loved her so. She was, how you say, my soul mate.” He paused with his hand on his heart. “But I do not blame you. You could not hurt her. I know this. You are not ruthless like so many of your kind.”

My kind being vampire, I assumed. A backhanded compliment, but I glommed in on the not blaming me part.

“Thank you, Mr. Fournier. I hope the authorities catch the killer quickly.”

“Oui, they are sure to now. I,” he said grandly, “have information.”

“What information?” Saber asked.

“I see him. Cet homme horrible. ”

The horrible man? He’d seen Stony?

“You mean the man who was stalking you?” Saber said. “You saw him?”

“When and where?” March’s voice boomed from behind me.

I jumped out of the way as he charged through the doorway to Etienne. In the excitement, I hadn’t heard him coming.

“I see him at his home. I think it is his home. He carries une valise into a house.”

“Where is the house?” March ground out.

“I do not know the street name but on the edge of the town it is. Not far from here. I rush to tell you.”

“Come with me,” March ordered Etienne. “Saber, you want in on this?”

Saber glanced at me.

“Go get him. I’ll call a cab.”

Saber shoved the tour narrative at me, muttered “Later,” and followed the two men. I stuffed the sheaf of papers in my purse and grabbed my handy cell phone. Thirty minutes later—close to collapse—I walked into the penthouse and fell in bed. I jerked awake at four fifteen, still in my jeans and sweater. Eeeks, had Maggie called? Is that what startled me? I hopped up to check but found no messages from Maggie. Or Saber, for that matter.

Should I track down him or Detective March and ask how the capture went? I had a right to know. If Stony was behind bars, then I could go about my merry business, including dance class tonight and tour guiding tomorrow. I got my daily requirement of Starbloods down while I cleaned out my purse. The eight -page tour narrative I left on the dining table. Didn’t need those now with Stony caught. I brushed my teeth and was washing the morning ’s makeup off when the phone rang. I sprinted to my bedside to snag the extension.

“You caught it on the first ring,” Maggie said, sounding both relieved and suspicious. “What’s up?”

“Good news. Stony turned up today.”

She shrieked, and I jerked the phone away from my poor ear, but I grinned all the same.

“So tell me. What happened?”

I relayed Etienne’s entrance and announcement, and March and Saber’s rushing off.

“Are you sure they caught him?”

“No, but I’m calling the sheriff’s office before five.”

She reminded me of the time, ordered me to “Get to it,” and disconnected. Before I could punch in the sheriff’s number, the phone rang again. Deke Saber on the caller ID.

My pulse jumped as I answered.

“Good, you’re awake. We need you to come out to the office and ID the guy we picked up this morning.”

“I can be there in—” I calculated hair time. “—forty minutes if I can get a cab quick.”

“Make it five. I’m parked a few doors from you near the Greek restaurant. Black Saturn Vue.”

The line went dead. Damn. Saber was back to being Mr. Hyde and pushing my blood pressure all the way to measurable range.