“And for the lovebirds?” Shirley grinned at Vlad—stiff, and as close to the end of the booth as possible—and Kale, snuggling up to her un-snuggable undead beau.
“Nothing for me,” Vlad said, his eyes settling on Shirley. “But thank you.”
Shirley’s eyes slowly widened, her mouth hanging slack. “Anything,” she murmured.
“Vlad,” I hissed. “No glamours!”
Vlad looked at me and rolled his eyes. Shirley sucked in a deep breath, looking as though she had just awakened with a start. “Nothing for the gentleman, and you?” Her eyebrows rose expectantly.
Kale looked from Shirley to Vlad, then back again. “Clam chowder in a bread bowl.”
Shirley scurried away and Kale turned to Vlad; her cheeks were flushed, fire raging in her eyes. She looked a bit like Drew Barrymore in that old movie Firestarter—right at the point where whole buildings went up in flames. I nudged a glass of water across the table toward Kale, and I reveled in the fact that off duty or not, Will played a San Francisco fireman in real life.
“You were totally flirting with her,” Kale said, eyes narrowed at Vlad.
Vlad shrugged. “She looked delicious.” He licked his lips. “You can’t blame me, baby, I’m a vampire.”
I wondered quickly whether it was too late to change my order to Pepto-Bismol and soda water.
“Guys! We’re here to work on Mrs. Henderson’s and Bettina’s cases.”
Kale picked at her fingernail. “Bettina didn’t look like anything was wrong with her this morning. And what’s up with Mrs. Henderson?”
I opened and closed my mouth dumbly. “Didn’t you hear?”
A sudden spark of interest crossed over Vlad’s porcelain features. “Hear what?”
I leaned in and lowered my voice to a hoarse whisper. “Mrs. Henderson is dead. Didn’t Dixon say anything?”
Kale’s eyes were wide. Her hand subconsciously went for Vlad’s sleeve. She pinched his shirt fabric between thumb and finger, rubbing like a child rubs a blanket for comfort. “What happened?”
I swallowed hard and looked at Will. He gave me a tiny, nearly imperceptible nod. “She was murdered.”
“How do you know that?”
I pulled a lock of hair and wound it tightly against my index finger. “I went over there yesterday. No one answered the door. I went in, saw what looked like a disaster, and called Alex.”
“Oh my God!” Kale’s eyes were wide. “She’s dead?”
I felt a lump forming in my throat and I coughed. “There was blood everywhere. It was awful. I told Dixon, and he said he would take care of it.”
Vlad stiffened. “Then he must be taking care of it.”
“But no one knows about it. And the centaur and now Bettina? No one knows that they should be on the alert.”
Kale leaned in, brows raised, the pale blond hair on her arms standing on end. “For what? For whom?”
I bit my lip. “We don’t know, exactly. Vlad, you’re one of Dixon’s right-hand men now. Have you heard anything? Did he call a meeting? Was he writing anything up or checking with the police?”
Vlad shrugged. “Not that I saw. But if Dixon said he was going to handle it, I’m sure he will.”
I’m sure he would if the victim was a vampire, a tiny voice at the back of my skull nagged. “Let’s just take a look at the files, please. Kale?”
Kale handled over her precious stack and nudged against Vlad.
“That’s kind of scary,” I heard her whisper to Vlad. “I don’t know anyone—like us—who has ever died.”
Vlad just shrugged, his brooding countenance unchanged. “Things die,” he finally muttered, before huddling over his paper place mat with a black pen and doodling dark and broody things on it.
Kale alternately looked frightened and lovestruck, one hand kneading the palm of the other.
“Okay, Mrs. Henderson.” Will read from the manila folder he was holding. “Filed under ‘other.’”
“Yeah,” I clarified, “we don’t have a lot of dragon clients.”
Will raised his eyebrows. “A dragon? You don’t say.” He studied the stack of pages that flopped out of her folder. “According to this, the bird was punctual. Never missed an appointment.”
“Until last week.” I nodded solemnly. “And now we know why.”
Kale inched closer to Vlad. Her hands circled his bicep in a move that was part predatory, part fearful.
“Kale, you hadn’t heard anything from her?” I asked. “Before this? Or maybe from the kids or husband?”
Kale’s oblivious expression remained unchanged at my question.
“Do you ever get the feeling you’re being watched?” Vlad asked, looking up from the doodle on his place mat.
Will snorted and turned over his coffee mug as the waitress flitted by. “You are being watched, gov.”
Crimson washed over Kale’s cheeks and she lowered her eyes, focusing intently on peeling a stripe of silver nail polish from her thumb.
“I don’t mean from in here,” Vlad said. “From out there.” He inclined his dark head toward the big picture window as the fog thickened outside. “I’ve felt it since we went outside. Don’t you feel it?”