La Vida Vampire

Saber leaned forward, his forearms braced on his knees. “You can tell us about James Peters, ma’am.”


Millie’s lips thinned until they were pinched white. “So you know.”

“We know your nephew was married to Yolette before his death two years ago,” Saber said.

“It was eighteen months,” she said raggedly. “That woman killed him, you know.”

Saber and I exchanged a quick glance but didn’t speak.

“She was older and, I guess he thought, more worldly. She got him involved in unnatural sexual practices, spent his money like water, and ultimately killed him.”

“Did she inherit his estate?” I asked softly. Saber shot me a warning look, but I didn’t heed it, and Millie didn’t see.

“Not the whole of it, thank God. James wasn’t thirty yet and didn’t have full control of his trust fund, but she didn’t know that.”

Millie growled so low in her throat, I glanced around for a dog.

“The bitch called James’s mother, my sister Sarah. Not when James died, you understand. No, some French inspector told Sarah that James was dead. That woman,” she spat, “was too grieved to bother speaking with her mother-in-law until six months later. Then she had the nerve to call Sarah to complain about being out of money and ask for more.”

“Was Sarah already sick by then?” I asked.

“No.” Millie blinked back tears. “She didn’t even get to claim James’s body.”

“Why not?” Saber asked sharply.

“Because the little gold digger had him cremated. She said he wanted his ashes scattered in their garden or some such nonsense. Sarah had a memorial service in Tulsa, but—”

I spotted a box of tissues on a Swedish modern credenza and quietly retrieved them. When I’d set the box on the coffee table near Millie, Saber spoke gently.

“Mrs. Hayward, how did you know about James’s personal life with Yolette?”

Millie dabbed at her nose. “When James called Sarah to announce he’d gotten married, Sarah was crushed. There was no wedding celebration, and James didn’t invite Sarah to France for a visit. He didn’t even offer to bring his wife home so Sarah could meet her daughter-in-law. It just wasn’t like him—none of it. Sarah was heartbroken, but she carried on with a smile. I couldn’t let it go.”

“So you hired someone to kill her?”

I glared at Saber, and Millie snapped her spine ramrod straight.

“I hired a private investigator with contacts in Paris to find out what kind of trouble James had gotten himself into. I did not hire anyone to kill her.” She narrowed her eyes. “If I had, James would be alive, and so would Sarah. She was perfectly healthy before James died. No cancer, no problems at all.”

“Who did you hire, Millie?” I asked.

She held my gaze. “You haven’t figured that out?”

“The Gomer-looking guy on the tours?”

She smiled. “I told him not to go over the top, but yes. His name is Eugene Cassidy.”

“Where is he now, Mrs. Hayward?”

She blinked at Saber’s intensity. “I don’t know. I don’t have him on a full-time retainer. Why? Is he in trouble?”

“We want to question him about the murder,” Saber said, “and about a beating that took place early this morning.”

Bewildered, Millie looked at me.

“The troublemaker from the tour is Victor Gorman, Millie,” I said. “He’s in the hospital and hurt pretty bad.”

Millie shook her head. “Eugene wouldn’t kill or beat up anyone. He had no reason to unless—”

“Unless what?” Saber asked.

“Unless that madman went after Francesca.” She blushed. “Eugene told me you saw his gun Tuesday night and that you escaped as fast as you could. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Have you tried to reach him?” Saber asked.

“Well, once. After I heard about that woman’s death, I called to find out what I owed him…in case I needed to transfer funds.” She waved it off. “He’ll bill me, I’m sure.”

I nodded, thinking about something that was bothering me. “Millie, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but did Yolette really run through all of James’s money? Did Eugene ever say?”

She snorted. “He reported she had plenty. She thought she could play the poor bereaved widow and bleed Sarah dry, but I’ll hand it to my sister. She didn’t send that woman a red cent.”

“This PI, Eugene Cassidy,” Saber said. “Did he mention anyone else he was working for?”

“Of course not. He’s an ethical PI,” Millie huffed.

“But he might’ve said something in passing,” Saber suggested.

“He didn’t.” Then she cocked her head as if considering. “I can tell you he’s been in Daytona a good deal, but then he has an office there.”

Saber and I traded another glance.

“Is Daytona important?” Millie asked.

Saber reached into his jeans pocket and handed her Rachelle’s picture. “Do you know this woman?”

Millie inhaled a harsh breath. “It’s the vampire from France. The one who was blamed for killing James.”