“I’ll take a burger.”
“Me too, but I need bacon or I’m going to lose it,” Mary says.
I hold the photo up and stop Josie and Lyle. “Tell me what you see here. Be honest.”
Josie takes the photo and looks down at it. She lifts it up to the window so the sun hits it and takes a long minute to study it. “That’s a fucking bite mark. Don’t you think?” she asks, holding the photo out to Lyle
Lyle barely looks at it before he answers. “That’s a vamp bite if I ever saw one.”
“Why are you all so willing to believe in vampires suddenly?” I ask, hands on my hips. “What if it’s a serial killer with a weird suction fetish? It could be-I don’t know, some kind of cabal ritual.”
“So you think a serial killer with a suction blood fetish or a cult is more plausible than saying a vampire ate Father Paretti?” Josie asks.
“Yes. Absolutely. Any sane person would choose a ritualistic death cult than accept the fact that a vampire,” I pause to make air quotes, “‘ate Father Paretti.’”
Mary makes a face and pats her stomach. “You know what? No bacon. This is making me queasy. We’ve been staring at these photos for way too long. I’m going to come with you and get a salad.” She joins the others and they pass me back the photo with promises to be back before Sheriff Dayton’s statement. Isettle back at my desk and glare at the photo. It’s just one of half a dozen photos all saying the exact same thing.
Vampire. Vampire. Vampire.
“It’s not a vampire,” I insist again and shove the photos into a folder that I drop into my top drawer. I slam the drawer shut and turn to look out the window. The sun is still shining bright. Vesper Point goes on like nothing is wrong, like we didn’t find Father Paretti dead in the confessional booth, like my staff isn’t convinced a horror movie monster is to blame for it.
“It’s not a fucking vampire,” I whisper. There’s no answer. Of course there’s not. I’m alone, like always.
Twenty-Three
MARIS
“No fighting,” I tell Josie in a whisper-scream.
You’d think I wouldn’t have to remind her not to punch a deputy but honestly, you’d be wrong. Josie has a record of getting into it with the officers in town when they’re standing between her and a story.
“I won’t fight if they stop acting like brain dead hacks.”
“That’s not going to happen. Just keep it to a minimum.”
Josie makes a face which is a good sign that she’ll listen for now.
We’re in City Hall with what feels like the rest of Vesper Point. The place is packed wall-to-wall and the din of chatter echoes and bounces off the walls. It reminds me of the sea during a storm, the voices rise together in a quiet roar. I swallow hard and look out at the sea of faces that I’ve known all my life. I don’t like that so many of their eyes are on me and not the podium where the Sheriff is about to start speaking.
“Why is everyone staring at me?” I ask Josie.
“You mean more than usual?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“You look good, boss. Really good.”
“All I did was wash my hair,” I lie and roll my eyes and busy myself with the notepad and recorder that I’m holding. Yes, it’s analog but I’m set in my ways and I’m not going to change now that we finally have a big story. A big story that I’m hearing half the town thinks is the work of a vampire. Turns out my staff aren’t the only ones buying into the vampire shit.
Josie gives me a ‘yeah fucking right’ face but she doesn’t say a word. Smart woman. She knows I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with the vampire talk.
While we wait for Sherrif Dayton to come out, I tune into the conversations around me and sure enough it’s vampire central.
“What the hell bit him?”
“A vampire did. You saw the photos.”
What the fuck? How many people saw those photos? Is the morgue running some kind of snuff ring? I make a note to stay far away from knowing how Mary is getting her info and move onto the next conversation.
