“I think that’s a wrap,” she said.
“What?”
She got to work on her normal procedure with the camera’s drive—gloves on, gaudy pin removed, drive ejected and placed in manila envelope. Eric jerked his hands against the steering wheel. Then he spit on her. Most of the saliva landed on her bare forearm above her glove. She held his gaze as she pressed the envelope flap to her arm and used the moisture to seal the envelope.
“I was going to tell you to lick this,” she said. “Never mind.”
He tried to lunge at her, but she exited the car, envelope in hand. This one didn’t feel safe to leave anywhere near the assailant. He might start beeping the horn, get someone to free him before the police could arrive. Purse slung over her shoulder, Claire strode down the sidewalk until she was out of his sightline. Then she pulled out her phone.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“Hi, it’s your friendly neighborhood vampire. There’s a guy zip-tied to his steering wheel in the parking lot of Luxe Lounge. He’s in a dark-blue Honda, plate number WIV-904. His name is Eric, and he attempted to assault me about five minutes ago.”
“Okay, ma’am, and are you in a safe place now?”
“I’m fine. You’ll find the body cam footage of the attempted assault in a sealed manila envelope in the FedEx box across the street.” She dug a pen out of her purse as she walked. “I’ll write ‘Police’ on it.”
“I have a car en route now, ma’am. It would be great if you’d wait for the officer to arrive, if you’d give him a statement.”
The way she said it… “You’ve talked to me before.”
“I have,” the dispatcher said.
“Then you know I’m already gone. Thanks for the work you do.”
After a pause, the female voice came a little more quietly. “Right back at you.”
Claire hung up and went into full-speed mode. She wrote on the envelope, darted across the street, deposited it into the drop-off box. Then she darted back to the club, straight past Eric’s car. He never saw her. He was trying to bite through the zip-ties, apparently determined not to beep the horn for help.
In the next second she was inside her own car, which she’d parked in the employee lot behind the building. She took the narrow driveway that snaked behind two restaurants beforeopening onto the main road. Most of the streetlights along the route were out, and she passed not a single car or pedestrian.
A few miles from home, she surprised herself by pulling into the empty, well-lit lot of the library. She put the car in park and sat idle, leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. She had brought down one more of them. Maybe saved his future victims. Satisfaction tugged her mouth into a smile, but then it pulled again, this time to hold back tears.
She was lonely.
She wanted to put the car back in drive and go see her boyfriend. Kiss him, let him hold her, listen to a good album on his sound system, listen to him play their song on his piano.
She had to stop this. She wasn’t lonely. She was independent.
She dug into an inner pocket of her purse for the contact lens holder and pinched them from her eyes. So much better. She tugged off the wig, then glanced at the dashboard clock. After one in the morning.
Her phone buzzed in her purse, and she fished it out and gave a little sigh. Had he somehow sensed her mood from across town? Her thumb was about to accept the call, but…no. She couldn’t talk to Tai right now. Not without spilling everything. When the call went to voicemail, a notification popped up. This was his second call in an hour. And this time, he left a message.
“Claire, it’s me. We need to talk. Please, tonight, any time you get this, I’ll be home, and we need to talk.”
Home. Yes. But he sounded…off.
She started driving, not toward her home but his. Meanwhile she called him and set her phone into the middle console.
“Claire.”
Yeah, definitely not okay. “I got your voicemail. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just… Are you okay?”
He reallyhadknown somehow. “I’m fine, but I guess I’m kind of lonely tonight. Why did you say we need to talk?”
“It’s…a lot. Could I come over?”
