How to Party with a Killer Vampire (19 page)

There was no sign of Dee or Duncan.

“Hey, Berk. Was Delicia here?”

He nodded without looking up from the small camera screen. “She and Duncan left about half an hour ago.”

Hmm
. She hadn’t put that on the message board. I stepped inside. “Did they say where they were going?”

“Nope.”

I felt the little hairs at the back of my neck prickle in alarm. Were they out trying to find a killer? “Did they say anything at all?”

Berk finally looked up, apparently realizing the annoying office neighbor wasn’t going away anytime soon. “No, Presley. As soon as I walked into the office, Dee got out of my chair and headed out. Duncan followed her.”

I wished Berk and Duncan had one of those message boards. I’d have to get Dee to take care of that.

“So, you have no idea where they went?”

Berk rolled his eyes at me.

“Okay. I get it. You don’t know.”

He returned to viewing the tape.

“Don’t suppose you’ve seen anything in that videotape that might give us a clue about Spidey’s death. Or about that paparazzo?”

“Not yet. But I’m keeping an eye out. Duncan asked me to. And I assumed you’d want to know if anything hinky showed up.”

“Hinky?”

“Yeah, you know, weird . . . or suspicious.”

I suppressed a smile. Berkeley was always the hippest guy in the room. I couldn’t keep up with his footwear, let alone lingo. I glanced down at today’s shoes: plaid high-top PRO-Keds.

“Cool shoes,” I said, heading for the door. “But plaid?”

“Argyle. Like the Norwegian curling team wears.”

“Really? They look more like something one of my dads might buy.”

“It’s hip to be square, Presley.”

Of course. “Well, let me know if you see anything, will you?”

He nodded.

On my way back to my office, I knocked on Brad’s door. I heard a muffled “Come in,” and opened the door. Brad sat at his small metal desk, frowning at his laptop screen.

“Hi,” I said, glad to see him. “What are you working on?”

He gestured toward the screen. “Just got an e-mail from Luke.”

I sucked in a breath. “About the DNA test?”

He nodded. “It’s definitely Spidey’s blood on the shovel and the gravestone. And Bodie’s blood is also on the shovel. Whoever killed these guys used the same weapon—the shovel.”

I sat down opposite Brad, relieved at the news, only because it proved my—and Duncan’s—suspicions. Not only was Spidey murdered, but he was almost definitely killed by the same person who murdered Bodie.

Now all I had to do was put on a fresh frock, gather my chums, jump into my roadster, and figure out whodunit. That was what Nancy would do.

“Did the detective find anything else—other fingerprints on the shovel? Hairs? Any of that forensic-type stuff?”

“Nothing else. Lucas said the guy probably wore gloves or wiped it clean, and maybe a cap.”

“Why’s he so sure it was a male?” I asked.

“It’s pretty unlikely a female could hit those guys hard enough to kill them.”

“But maybe she could have hit them hard enough to cause them to lose their balance or stun them, then finished the job—Spidey with the stone and Bodie with another bash to the head.”

“Possible. But it would take a lot of strength to kill someone with just a shovel.”

I tried to picture a woman swinging a shovel at a guy moving along the tops of gravestones. It wouldn’t be an easy trick to take him down—unless it was a complete surprise. Maybe she tripped him first. As for the paparazzi, a surprise attack would be the only way a woman would have an advantage. And she could have lured the men into those dark, isolated spots....

“How about you?” Brad asked, breaking my train of thought. “Where you been?”

“Oh, I went over to the dorm at San Francisco State to see Spidey’s friends, Trace and Lark.”

He raised an eyebrow of concern. “By yourself?”

“Of course. Nobody’s going to kill me in a college dorm, not with all those students around.”

He didn’t look so sure. “Learn anything?”

“I didn’t find a closet full of bloody shovels, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Brad laughed.

“But I did catch a glimpse of Trace’s bedroom, and there’s a huge poster of Angelica Brayden on his wall. Someone there is a big fan. He mentioned that Spidey had had a crush on the actress, and Spidey thought Angelica liked him too, although Trace didn’t seem to take that very seriously.”

“Interesting. You believe it?”

“I don’t know. Trace could have had a crush on Angelica too. He also indicated that Spidey was not all there.” I touched my forehead, as Trace had done. “I tried to find out more about Spidey, such as where he lived, but Trace said he was homeless. Then I got suspicious and wondered if Spidey might have been crashing at the dorm. So I told them I had to pee and checked out the bathroom cupboards and medicine chest.”

“And?” Brad asked, grinning.

“I’m pretty sure Spidey—and Lark—are living there, staying in his bedroom. Their toiletries were there—a girl’s hair dryer, three razors, and a Spiderman toothbrush. If Trace gets caught with them there, he could be evicted. I wonder how they get away with it. But then, who’s really going to know, except maybe the roommate, and he wasn’t there to ask.”

“Even if those three are—were—living together, it doesn’t tell us much,” Brad said, “except that they were friends. Doesn’t sound like Trace, or Lark, had any reason to kill their friend Spidey, let alone the paparazzo.”

“Maybe not,” I said, “but there’s something those two aren’t telling me. They kept giving each other weird looks.”

“Maybe they were in a three-way . . .”

I laughed. “In your dreams.”

He raised a libidinous eyebrow.

“Do you think she’s attractive? Lark, that is,” I said, then regretted it.

“In a Joan Jett–slash–roller derby type way.”

“Oh my God,” I said, and left him alone to his fantasies.

There was still no sign of Delicia when I entered my office next door. Nothing new had been written on the message board. I listened to all the cell phone messages I’d received while I was out and found I had a number of requests for theme parties during the upcoming holidays. Could I do a “Gingerbread House Party” and contest for AAUW to raise money for women who want to go to college? Would I be available to host a “Toys for Tots” fund-raising gala at one of the local firehouses, with the firefighters dressed as “Fiery Hot Santas”? Did I have any time to work up a “Sixties Hippie Party” for the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws?

It wasn’t November yet and the party season was already booking up. Who had time to search for a killer?

 

After two hours of nonstop phone calls scheduling parties, ordering props, booking venues, and reserving tents, tables, and chairs, I was ready to quit and go home—until Duncan and Delicia walked in.

“Where have you two been?” I asked, pushing back from my desk.

Dee looked at her entry on the in/out board. “
Uh
. . . with Duncan?”

I frowned at the two of them, standing there looking as guilty as Sylvester with a mouthful of Tweety. “Well, did you find out anything?” I assumed they’d been snooping around.

Dee sat down in her chair, while Duncan loitered against the door frame.

“Not really,” Dee said. “Just—”

“Dee!” Duncan hissed.

“Give it up, Duncan,” Dee said. “Presley knows. She’s a psychologist, remember. She can almost read your mind. There’s no sense in pretending we haven’t been looking for Spidey’s killer.”

Duncan pressed his lips together.

“I told you guys—you specifically, Duncan—that I would do what I could to help find out what happened to Spidey and for you to stay out of it. And now I have two loose cannons to deal with—you and Dee.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Duncan said.

“Not funny,” I returned. “I’m just saying, you’re too emotionally involved in this. Let us—and the police—handle it.”

“So what have you found out?” Duncan asked.

“I talked to a couple of people who were at the party—Jonas and Angelica.”

“What did they say?” Duncan said eagerly.

“Nothing solid. Jonas is trying to protect Angelica. Meanwhile Angelica’s worried about someone stalking her. You know they’re seeing each other, right?”

Duncan’s eyes widened. This was obviously news to him.

“And you know that Angelica’s secretly married,” I added.

This time his mouth dropped open.

“Duncan, you have to tell her,” Dee suddenly said.

I looked at Duncan. He took another step inside and closed the door with a kick of his foot.

“What’s going on, Duncan?” I asked.

He swallowed. “Spidey said . . . he said that actress, Angelica, she was into him. Said he was going to meet her in the cemetery that night, after the party was all set up and everyone was gone.”

Now my jaw had dropped. “What?”

“He got a text from her. She’d been flirting with him all week, during the shoot. When he got that text, he was blown away.”

“But I heard she flirted with everyone,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. I saw her talking to a bunch of different guys, including Trace,” Duncan said. “Everyone but Jonas. She didn’t seem to even like him. And he pretty much ignored her.”

“Yeah, well, that tells you something right there. When two people are trying to hide a relationship, they often go out of their way to act as if they don’t care about each other. They’re afraid they might let their emotions slip around each other unless they keep them tightly controlled.”

“I still don’t believe it.” Duncan shook his head. “Why would Angelica text Spidey and ask him to meet her then?”

A light went on. “Duncan, do you know if the police found Spidey’s cell phone on his body?”

“I don’t know.”

“His cell phone could contain all kinds of information that might help. It’s better than a calendar, diary, and address book put together. I’ll find out if the cops have it.” I stood up. “Meanwhile, you two—cut it out, you hear? This is your last warning, or I’ll . . . make a citizen’s arrest.”

Duncan grinned. It was good to see him smile. “For what?”

“For being a public nuisance . . . and posing as an officer of the law.” As a matter of fact, Detective Melvin had threatened me with the very same offenses in the past. I moved to Duncan and gave him a hug. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some illegal police work to do.”

I left them alone and headed back to Brad’s office. “I need your help,” I said, ignoring whatever it was he was doing.

“Of course you do,” he said. “But I’m going to have to start charging you. Would you like to open an account?”

“Run a tab,” I said. “I need to know if Detective Melvin found Spidey’s cell phone and what’s on it—last calls, dates, text history, everything. Will you call him for me? Please?”

“It so happens I’m meeting him at the police gym in a few minutes. I’ll ask him then.”

“Great, thanks.” I started out.

“Hey, wait! Quid pro quo. Did you get anything new from Duncan?”

Apparently he knew Duncan and Delicia were back. I stepped inside Brad’s office and spoke softly in case they happened to be in the hallway. “Duncan said Spidey got a text from Angelica the night he died, asking him to meet her in the cemetery after the party setup.”

“Really? Sounds bogus to me,” Brad said. “Why would a hot little actress like Angelica want to meet some skinhead movie extra—at night—in a cemetery—alone. You telling me Spidey fell for this crock?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I need to know what was on his cell. Was there a text? If so, did she send it? And if she didn’t, who did it really come from?”

I leaned in and kissed Brad—part bribe, part lust. Not necessarily equal parts.

As for lust—could that be what was behind these murders?

Did Bodie also have a relationship with Angelica? They’d certainly crossed paths. And she seemed to be able to charm every guy around her. But Bodie? I highly doubted it. What had Brad called her? “A hot little actress.” I wondered how Jonas felt about all her flirting.

Not to mention her husband.

By the time I left the office, it was too late to do any active investigating, so I headed home. After feeding my cats and chatting with them about the high cost of cat food today, I settled onto the couch with a BLT, a beer, and my laptop. Brad called to say he’d be out late with Detective Melvin and would see me tomorrow. I couldn’t complain, since I’d asked him to question the detective about Spidey’s cell phone records.