Corin & Angelique (After the Fall of Night) (16 page)

Angelique gave in and proceeded to tell him all she recalled.

“That’s pretty much what I reviewed in your initial report,” he said after hearing her account.

“I told you there was nothing more.”

“How about your brother, is he around? I should review this with him as well.”

“Is that really necessary? He’s been through so much.”

“I know it’s a rough time, but there’s a murderer on the loose. I’d think your brother would be obliging, glad to know we’re doing everything in our power to catch his wife’s killer.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but he’s not here at the moment. He’s doing some work
for a neighbor—Corin von Vadim.”

“Von Vadim?”

“He owns the large estate neighboring ours. Over two thousand acres.”

“Maybe I can catch him there. I guess I’ll find the entrance on up the road?”

“You can’t miss it. There’s a large gate.”

“I’ll be on my way, then.”

“Before you go, Marshal, since you’re insistent on questioning Tomes, you should know…he truly loved Louisa.”

“I’m sure he did,” Jordon replied. “And I do sympathize, but I have a job to
do. If I tiptoed around every sensitive situation, I’d never get anywhere,” he stated bluntly.

“Just take it easy on him. That’s all I’m asking. He’s been through a lot.”

“I understand.” Jordon bid her good day and headed away, his boots throwing up a light powdering of dust behind him.

Angelique watched until he disappeared around the side of the barn, knowing
he’d be making a beeline for von Vadim Estate. She wished now she’d kept her mouth shut about her brother’s whereabouts, but lying had never come easy to her. However, despite her name, she was no angel, and if it became necessary, she could conjure her dark side and do whatever she had to do in order to protect her family from the evils of the outside world. That included law enforcement.

“Tomes,” she whispered her brother’s name, thinking of what he was going
through. He was an ever-changing man since Louisa’s death, bringing the story of
Jekyll and Hyde
to mind. Like Stevenson’s character, he seemed to be fully transforming into his own sinister alter ego. Angelique feared if things didn’t change, the good side of Tomes might be lost forever.

Chapter Ten

In the Fog

Tomes cursed as he walked across the living room toward the front door. He
contemplated not answering, but his truck was parked outside, evidence that he was there.

Jordon Black introduced himself. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Jaffler, but it’s
essential that I learn all I can about the murders if I’m to have any success with catching this killer.”

“No, it’s all right. I understand,” Tomes stepped outside, leaving the
door open. “Nice car. A Charger, huh?”

“Yeah, for the horsepower.” Jordon moved to give him some space.

“What do you need to know?”

“Tell me what happened the night your wife was murdered.”

Tomes cooperated, reviewing the last evening he’d spent with Louisa, not wanting to raise any suspicions.

“Your recollections are an exact match to your
sisters’,” Jordon remarked, looking past Tomes, into the house.

“We were both there, experiencing the same things,” he responded. “Is
something wrong?” He wondered what had caught the marshal’s attention.

“Just admiring the place. Very old, I suspect.”

“Yes. It is. If there’s nothing else, I should get back to work. I wouldn’t want the owner to come back and find me slacking,” he joked.

“Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Jaffler.” Jordon looked past him yet again
before turning to go.

Tomes shut the door and
visually scanned the room wondering what had given rise to the inquisitive look on the marshal’s face.

The man couldn’t possibly
suspect vampires…could he?

Tomes shook his head.
He couldn’t possible know.

Alone again, Tomes poked
around the estate grounds while the day crept to an end, the longest Tomes thought he’d ever endured. After dwindling on and on, the sun had now lowered in the western sky, making the transition to twilight.

Tomes stood on the lanai observing a mysterious bank of fog moving in, an
eerie phenomenon unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Fearing that the strange occurrence was a forewarning of things to come, a bone-chilling sensation enveloped him.

Was there something wicked lurking in the dense, rolling fog, coming to
devour them all?

Tomes shook off the feeling and stepped inside the house. He headed for the
basement door to alert the slumbering nightwalker that it was time to rise and shine, but before he reached it, Corin burst out.

“What’s going on?” Tomes
heart skipped a beat.

“He was here!” Corin stared
Tomes dead-in-the-eyes, the savage look on his face reminding Tomes that he was far from human. Releasing a menacing growl with teeth gnashed, he fully depicted the notion of a vampire—a monster out for the kill.

“If you’re talking about the sheriff, he was here all right. And a marshal also
came by—said his name was Black. I’m not sure what to make of him. He seemed suspicious of something.”

“Not the police. I’m talking about the nightwalker,” Corin clarified.

“He was here?”

“The
wretch sneaked in while I was out last night,” Corin explained. “He took some personal things of mine from the basement.”

“What? What did he take?”

“A gold pocket watch and a pewter figurine from my dresser.”

“That’s it?” In his opinion, the
items weren’t very valuable when compared to the many priceless treasures filling the house.

“That’s all he needed to take. Don’t you get it, Tomes? This is all a game to
him. He wanted me to know he was here, in my home. And both items he took have more worth and meaning to me than a vault full of gold. They’re priceless in sentiment. I haven’t lived my long life without forming several close attachments, and those two small things he dared to steal from me, well, they are symbols of two cherished memories.”

Corin’s genuine emotion surprised Tomes. It made him seem almost human.
He thought it strange how he went from being a raging monster one minute, ready to tear out his adversary’s throat, to the sentimental, nostalgic being presently standing before him. He just hoped that the sullen nightwalker didn’t burst into tears, ‘cause there was no way in Hades he was comforting him. At that thought, he gave his head a good shake, tossing out the horrid image.

“Maybe we can get them back.”

“Oh, we’re going to get them back all right. Then I’m going to teach that good-for-nothing a lesson he’ll never forget!” Fire flashed in Corin’s eyes as he clenched his fists and paced the floor. “He has deceived me, challenged me, and now stolen from me. There will be no more games. It’s time to get serious.”

“I found your note on the door this morning. I wish now I hadn’t suggested
that lock. I’ve been waiting around here all day.”

“I sensed you in the house, but I needed to restore my energy. I knew if it was
urgent you’d let me know.”

“Well, something else has happened.”

“What?”

“Angelique said she met a man at the grocery store last night who wanted to
hire me for renovations, and you won’t believe what he was driving…a dusty-blue Camaro.”

“
That miserable…. He’s gone way too far.”

“He told her his name was Louis Gomez and set an appointment to meet with
me at the farm this morning. But he didn’t show, of course, not with the sun rising and all.”

“Did he touch her?” Corin demanded
to know.

“She’s fine. He didn’t do anything to her,” Tomes assured him, hearing the
rage behind his words, surprised by his height of emotion over Angelique. He didn’t care for Corin’s reaction regarding his sister, but this wasn’t the time to confront him about it. “So, I take it you’re pretty sure it was the nightwalker?”

“It was him. And like I said…it’s time to get serious.”

* * * *

Patricia Watson’s watch read 9:50. She’d put in a long day in preparation for a
board meeting and the effects from the extra hours had left her with a kinked neck and an aching back.

“Time to call it quits.” She shut down her computer,
grabbed her purse, and headed out. She had a bad feeling as she started across the nearly abandoned lot, aiming for her car parked quite a distance away. To make matters worse, a heavy fog had moved in over the area, adding to her apprehension.

Moonlight cast a silvery-blue tint onto the misty blanket of fog, giving it a
buoyant glow. The sound of her shoes hitting the pavement echoed as she moved across the black asphalt. Halfway to her car, she glanced back, intuition telling her that something wasn’t right. Disregarding her instincts, she continued on, drawing in a quick breath when she heard someone else’s footsteps trailing her own. She stopped, turned back again, and gave her surroundings a quick scan, but the thick, creeping fog diminished her view.

“Pa-tri-cia.” A menacing voice sounded from the depths of darkness causing
her to release a slight yelp. She slapped her hand against her chest to calm her racing heart. It was impossible to determine what direction the call had come from for it emanated from all around her.

“Who’s there?” she called out to the unseen
presence, her voice shaky.

She stood frozen in place as her eyes darted in all directions, trying to
ascertain who could be tormenting her in such an inhuman way.

“Pa-tri-cia.” The creepy, drawn-out voice came again, giving her gooseflesh,
along with a nauseating feeling of dread.

Frantic, she made a mad dash for her car. Reaching it, she cursed, realizing
her keys were in her purse. Huddled against the hood of the vehicle, she tried to control her nerves. Desperate to find the keys, Patricia unzipped the bag, fumbling for them. Lost in her panic, a sharp pain in the back of her head took her by surprise. She dropped forward onto the hood of the car as darkness enveloped her.

Patricia awoke to find the contents of her purse scattered on the pavement
next to her. “Nooo!” she cried. Searching the pavement, she fought the terrible pain ripping through her skull. She had no idea where her attacker was. If she was to survive, she had to find her keys, and fast, before he finished her off.

“Peek-a-boo. I see you Pa-tri-cia.”

Her vision dimmed, and Patricia struggled to hold onto consciousness. She knew she was easy prey—exposed and vulnerable. She squinted, her eyes clouded with tears. Her blouse, wet and sticky, clung to her back. Wincing, her head throbbed so intensely she thought it might split in two. Yet, despite her weakening condition, and the growing nausea, she forced herself to continue.

“
I. Will. Not. Die,” she told herself, trying to control her panic. The stalker was playing cat and mouse—viciously toying with her. “Thank you, God,” she uttered, feeling the cold impression of the keychain against the palm of her hand.

She pressed the buttons, relieved to hear the click
of the door lock. It was a struggle to pull herself up. With her body weak and her legs uncooperative, she could scarcely hold her own weight. Half leaning onto the hood of the front driver’s side, she shuffled toward the door, running her shaking hands along the side of the car until she located the handle. She opened the door and slid her weary body inside.

“Please, God, don’t let me die. I need your help,” she prayed, searching the
door panel for the lock.

Hearing it click, she attempted to place the ignition key in
the starter, but in her trepidation, dropped the ring on the floorboard. Reaching down, she found it difficult to control her trembling body and feared she was going into shock. Growing faint, she lowered her head onto the steering wheel. Even if she did manage to retrieve the keys, she didn’t know how much longer she could remain conscious.

“Pa-tri-cia.” The horrifying voice prompted her to dig deep for the will and
energy she needed to continue her search.

Managing to locate the keychain again, she focused on placing the key in the
starter. Despite her uncooperative fingers, she finally accomplished the task. She turned the key and the radio blasted on. Reaching for the power button to shut the racket off, a flicker of movement drew her gaze to the stalker’s silhouette through the front windshield. The fog had shifted, outlining his position.