Attempted.
Veronica was sipping a martini in a nearby booth. I slipped in across from her and ordered an Arnold Palmer. “Tell me something I don’t know, kiddo,” I said.
“Stop calling me that.”
“Okay, Mistress of the Night, tell me something I don’t know.”
Veronica unsheathed an olive from the toothpick and popped it into her mouth. My mouth watered. I looked away.
“You really have a knack for picking cases,” she observed as I faced her again.
“I thought you were going to tell me something new.”
“I am. I just don’t know where to begin.”
“Why don’t you start with this: Who is the woman in the mask?”
Instead she said, “There’s a newer group of vampires in Orange County. They formed as a coven a few years ago, but they’ve grown much larger than that.”
“How much larger?”
“I’m not quite sure. They’re very secretive. Probably about thirty in all. They’re becoming a gang, or like some mob or something.”
“How so?”
“They’re recruiting new vampires wherever they can to do their dirty work for them.”
“Dirty work?”
“You know, harvesting fresh blood and all that.”
My stomach turned as I considered this. I stirred my Arnold Palmer with a straw. “Murders?”
Veronica nodded. “Of course.”
“Why haven’t I heard about this? If only in the newspaper?”
“The cops are treating them like some serial case. They’re keeping it under wraps for now.”
“Probably don’t want to scare away any tourists,” I said with a touch of bitterness. “How thoughtful of them.”
“Yeah. Or maybe they’re just scared.”
I thought of the good cops I knew. Their jobs were tough enough. And finding blood-drained bodies all over the place? How would that sound to the public?
Frank was playing a beautiful rendition of Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.” Ah, the irony of it all.
“Scared. Possibly,” I said. “I take it this relates to our prisoner?”
“I’m pretty sure. But this coven, or gang, is really on the down-low. My associates have only just begun to learn about them.”
“I’m surprised you’re not hunting them down.”
She gave that wicked smile and her eyes gleamed. “Give me time,” she answered. I had to give the girl credit, Veronica was tough. Always had been. And it all began a few years ago when her own parents had been attacked and killed. By vampires.
They’d picked the wrong victim.
She was, of course, one of them now. A vampire who hunted her own, as she would, apparently, until the end of time.
I guided her back to the subject at hand. “And the vampire in the iron mask?”
“I don’t know much. Her name is Natassa. She arrived on the scene not long after this coven formed, and there are a couple of different theories about her.”
I waited.
“Some say that she’s from some country in Europe...”
“Like Transylvania?”
“Ha ha.” Veronica gave me the finger; she hated vampire jokes. But I liked to tease her when I could. “Go on,” I said.
“Some say this coven captured her because she was trying to hunt them.”
“She was hunting a coven? By herself?”
“I don’t know if she was alone. But rumor has it she’s pretty powerful. So they keep her as an example for anyone else trying to cross their path.”
“Interesting,” I noted. “What’s the other story?”
“This is the curious part. My associates who do know about her believe it’s possible that she’s the one who started all the killing, and that they’re holding her to prevent her from doing more damage. The idea is that she created some real monsters and the coven is trying to stop all the killings.”
I envisioned those violet eyes. Her brief words implied concern not for herself, but for me and...who?
“Maybe your client?” Veronica asked as surely as if I had voiced my question. I might never get used to the fact that she could read my thoughts. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”
“Just once. One phone call. I’ve called him back a few times today; he doesn’t pick up. And I don’t know his name.”
“Oh?”
“Some of my clients work that way. They just put the payments under my door, so to speak. It’s not too unusual.”
“He might be in trouble.”
I nodded. I touched the back of my head again, gauging the size of my bruises. “I wonder why they didn’t kill me.”
“I’m betting it’s because you’re fairly well-known.”
“You think I would have made headline news?” The thought gave my ego a little boost.
“Killing a PI usually isn’t wise,” she stated. “You’re not a cop, but you have cop friends.”
“I’ll add that to the perks of my line of business.”
For a moment we were lost in our own thoughts. Or maybe Veronica was picking my brain again. The thought that they hadn’t killed me didn’t mean they wouldn’t. I should handle this quickly. Move in, move out. Mission accomplished.
“So you think you’re just going to go in there and get her?” she said, reading my mind again.
“I don’t think she’s gonna walk out of there on her own,” I said.
“Look, Spinoza. I have certain friends who can keep this confidential. They would be willing to help.”
I shook my head. “I’m not getting mixed up with a bunch of vampires. This is my case; I’ll handle it.”
“But...”
“No buts. Tell them thanks for the offer, though.” Before she could protest further, I said, “Your first view of the situation makes more sense.”
“That they caught her trying to hunt them down.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m coming with you, anyway.”
“Look, kiddo—Veronica—I appreciate it. I saved your life once, and I don’t want that to be in vain.”
“You can’t do this on your own, Spinoza.”
“You’d be surprised.” I was no vampire, but over the years I had contrived more than a few brilliant plans to bring back missing kids, plans that most men in their right minds wouldn’t dare to attempt. But whoever said I was in my right mind?