La Vida Vampire

“Are you sure?” Saber pressed.

She rose and went to the same credenza where the tissue box had been, opened a cabinet door, and pulled out a photo album. With one flip, it opened, and she handed it to Saber. “Eugene’s Paris contact took these at some party or other about a month before James died.”

I leaned in to peer at the pictures, some just of Yolette, two of a young, laughing man I presumed to be James, and two of Rachelle with Yolette. Oddly, none of James with Rachelle.

“Did you blame the vampire for James’s death, Mrs. Hayward?”

Millie took the album back, traced one of the photos with her finger. “I blamed his bitch of a wife. I didn’t know what to think about the vampire. Maybe she actually killed James, and maybe she didn’t.”

“Did you know she was in the States?” Saber asked. “In Daytona Beach?”

Millie looked up slowly. “When?”

“For over a year.” Saber paused. “She was found dead last Saturday.”

“Yolette was there,” Millie said softly, almost to herself.

I tensed. “Yolette and Etienne were in Daytona?”

She nodded slowly. “They were there from Monday until last Saturday. In fact,” she added, “they flew into Miami a month ago and drove to the Keys, then up the coast. According to Eugene they stopped in Key West, South Beach, Lauderdale, the Cape, and Daytona on their way here.”

“Did the PI tell you what they did? Report on their movements or who they met?”

Millie shook her head. “Not in detail. He said they did typical tourist things and went to a vampire club here and there. I told him to warn me when they hit St. Augustine.”

“How did you know they would come to St. Augustine?” Saber asked, his tone milder than his expression.

“Eugene deduced it. They were to fly out of Jacksonville this coming Wednesday.”

“So you also knew where they were staying?”

“I knew,” she sighed. “I thought about confronting them—or her. I thought about a lot of things, including, ” she said, looking Saber square in the eyes, “killing her.”

“Is that why you went on Ms. Marinelli’s ghost tours? To confront Yolette?”

Millie gave me a small smile. “I read about you in the paper. You seemed like a nice young woman, not a monster. We even have an acquaintance in common. Maybelle Banks.”

“From my bridge club,” I said to Saber and gave him credit for not rolling his eyes. Millie sighed. “I knew Yolette would look you up sooner or later, just because you’re a vampire. Was it a sickness with her?”

I spread my hands. “I don’t know.”

“Eugene found out they bought ghost tour tickets and that they specifically asked for your tour. He was going alone, but I decided to go myself, to see her firsthand. It didn’t take much to get my friends together, and—”

Millie shrugged and twisted a tissue in her hands. “I wanted revenge. I wanted her to suffer. Now she’s dead, and all I feel is cheated.”



Millie gave us one of Eugene Cassidy’s business cards. As we left, she also said she and her friends really had meant to guard me from “that nasty man,” but they couldn’t make it tonight. I told her not to worry, that Gorman was off the streets for at least another day and that Saber was guarding me now. She smiled, patted my arm, and promised to see me another time. I didn’t count on it.

Saber called the number on the PI’s card from the car while we were still parked at Millie’s. He barked a message at voice mail, flipped his cell phone shut, and put it in a holder on his dashboard.

It rang not five seconds later.

“Saber.” He listened, cut his gaze to me, and said, “She’s right here. I’ll put you on speaker.”

“Ms. Marinelli, Detective March. We’ve gone over your truck but didn’t find anything useful. It’s ready to be released.”

“Thanks. I’ll call Tom and ask him to pick it up. At the impound yard, right?”

“Right. It’ll be open until five.”

“Got it.”

“The second reason I’m calling is to tell you Gorman woke up. He wants to see you.”

“See who?” Saber asked.

“Both of you. He won’t talk to us without you. Officer Michaels from City—the same guy from last night—is already at the hospital, and I’ll meet you there.”

Saber flipped his phone shut, his expression as puzzled as I felt.

“Gorman wants to see me? That head injury must be worse than we thought.”

Saber cracked a smile. “If he can identify his attackers, we ’re a big step closer to solving this before anything else happens.”

Since he laid rubber turning out of the condo lot in front of a speeding jeep full of teens, I hoped the anything else wasn ’t a car wreck.