Zerbrowski was waiting on the stairs for me. "I don't know whether you'll flash me more leg if I walk in front of you, looking back, or behind you. I think in front."
"Push it too far, Zerbrowski, and I'll tell Katie on you."
"She knows I'm a lech." He walked down the stairs looking back at me.
I walked down the stairs and let the dress fall where it might. When you wear a dress slit nearly to your hips, even if it is to have a gun handy, you are either comfortable with men looking or you wear something else. "How did you ever convince Katie to date you, let alone marry you?"
"I got her drunk," he said.
I laughed. "I'll ask her next time I'm over for dinner."
He grinned. "She'll give you this cock-and-bull story about something romantic and stupid. Don't believe her." He stopped in front of the first interview room and knocked softly.
Dolph opened the door. He filled the doorway very completely. He isn't just tall, he's bulky like a pro-wrestler. His tie was knotted perfectly, white-starched collar tight to his neck. His grey dress slacks still had a sharp crease. His only concession to the heat and the lateness of the hour was the long white sleeves of his shirt. No jacket. I could count on one hand the times I'd seen Dolph in shirt sleeves.
All cops perfect a bored face or a blank face, some even a mildly amused face But they all eventually have a face that keeps everything inside. An emptiness settles in their eyes that keeps all their secrets. Dolph gave great blank face when questioning suspects. The look on his face now was angry. I'd never seen him so obviously pissed questioning a suspect.
"What's up?" I asked.
He closed the door behind him, stepping into the hallway. He shook his head. "I don't know why this one's getting to me."
"Tell me," I said.
His eyes flicked to my clothing, as if he'd just noticed. The frown softened into something close to a smile. "Somebody has become a bad influence on your wardrobe."
I frowned at him. "I've got a gun in a bellyband, okay? With the slits, it's easier to get to." I would never have explained my dress to Zerbrowski, but to Dolph...
"Ooh," Zerbrowski said. "Flash us, flash us."
Dolph's smile widened enough that his eyes were shiny. "If you're going to flash that much leg, at least it's in a good cause."
I crossed my arms over my stomach. "Is there really a suspect in there or did you call me down here just to yank my chain?"
The smile faded, and the angry frown returned. "She's not the suspect. She's the victim. I know you talked to Perry at the scene, but I want you to hear her story, then tell me what you think." With that, he opened the door. That was Dolph, never liked to influence his people. But frankly, it was a little abrupt. I didn't have time to put my professional face on. I made eye contact with the woman while I still looked sort of surprised.
I had an impression of huge blue eyes, silky blond hair, delicate features, and yet she was tall. Even with her sitting down, I could tell that. Very few women can be both tall and dainty, but she pulled it off.
"Ms. Vicki Pierce, this is Anita Blake. I'd like you to tell her your story."
Ms. Pierce blinked big blue eyes, tears welling in them--not falling, mind you, but glittering. She dabbed at them with a Kleenex. There was a bandage on the side of her neck. "Sergeant Storr, I've told you what happened. I've told you and told you." A single tear slid down her cheek. "I'm so tired, and it's been such a traumatic night. Do I have to tell it all over again?" She leaned towards him in the chair, arms held protectively in front of her, almost pleading with him. A lot of men would have buckled under the sweet pressure of those eyes. Too bad the performance was wasted on Dolph.
"Just one more time for Ms. Blake," he said.
She looked past me to Zerbrowski. "Please, I'm so tired."
Zerbrowski leaned against the wall. "He's the boss."
She'd tried using her womanly wiles, but it wasn't working. She switched to sisterly unity with only a blink of her baby blues. "You're a woman. You know how it is, being so alone among all these--" her voice dropped to a hush--" men." She stared down at the table top, then back up with real tears trailing down her perfect skin.
It was an Oscar-worthy performance. I wanted to applaud, but I'd try sympathy first. There was always time for sarcasm later.
I walked around the table to her and leaned against it without really sitting. I was only inches from her, definitely an invasion of personal space. I patted her shoulder and smiled, though I wasn't a good enough actress for it to reach my eyes. "You're not alone now, Ms. Pierce. I'm here. Please just tell me your story."
"Are you a lawyer?" she asked.
If she asked for a lawyer and was insistent, the interview was over. I knelt in front of her, taking her still trembling hands in mine. I stared up at her. I couldn't manage to look sympathetic but I was interested. I gave her all my attention. I stared at her face like I'd memorize it and said, "Please, Vicki, let me help you."
Her hands had gone very still under mine. She stared at me with her big eyes like a deer that had scented the gun, but thought if it held very still, the gun wouldn't fire. She nodded almost to herself more than to me. She gripped my hands, and her face was utterly sincere.
"I had car trouble, and I went into the bar side of a restaurant to use the phone." She ducked her head, not meeting my eyes. "I know I shouldn't have gone in there. A woman in a bar alone is just asking for trouble. But there weren't any phones anywhere else."
"You have a right to go anywhere you want, anytime you want, Vicki. Being a woman doesn't take away that right." I didn't have to pretend to sound outraged.
She looked at me again, eyes studying my face. I could almost see the wheels in her head turning. She thought she had me. God, she was young.
Her fingers tightened on my hands, a fine tremor going up her arms. "I called a friend of mine to come look at the car. I'm in college and don't have a lot of money, so I didn't want to call a garage right away, not until my friend had seen the car. I hoped he could fix it."
She was volunteering too much information. Already justifying herself. Or maybe she'd just told the story too many times. Naw. "I'd have done the same thing," I said. And I might have.
She squeezed my hands and leaned towards me, a little eager, getting into her story. "There was this man at the bar. He seemed nice. We talked, and he asked me to sit with him. I told him I was waiting for my friend. He said, fine, we'd just talk." Again she looked down. "He said I had the most beautiful skin he'd ever seen." She looked back at me, eyes wide. "I mean, it was so romantic."
It was so rehearsed. "Go on."
"I let him buy me a drink. I know I shouldn't have." She dabbed at her eyes. "I asked if he minded me smoking, and he said no." There was a full ashtray at her elbow. Neither Dolph nor Zerbrowski smoked, which meant little Vicki was damn near a chain smoker.
"He had his arm around me and leaned in to kiss me, I thought." The tears came faster, she hunched over a little, back shaking. "He bit me, on the neck. I swear until that second I didn't realize he was a vampire." She looked at me, from inches away vibrating with sincerity.
I patted her arm. "A lot of people can't tell vampires from humans. Especially if they've fed first."
She blinked at me. "Fed first?"
"If a vampire is full of blood, then he looks more human."
She nodded. "Oh."
"What did you do when he bit you?"
"I threw my drink at him and lit it with my lighter."
"Lit it?" I said, "It, the liquor, or it, the vampire?"
"Both," she said.
I nodded. "Vamps are very combustible. He burned real good, didn't he?"
"I didn't know he'd go up in flames like he did," she said. "A person just doesn't burn like that."
"No," I said, "they don't."
"I started to scream and run away from him. My friend came in the door then. People were shouting and screaming. It was awful."
I stood up. "I bet it was."
She stared up me, blue eyes sincere but not full of horror for what she'd done. There was no remorse. She gripped my arm suddenly, very tight, as if she could will me to understand. "I had to protect myself."