Part III: George’s Story
(A sequel to Trust the Night)
By: Sara Saint John
Mei stared at the victim’s throat. “He appears to have been eaten.”
Uh, oh. George wondered if she would follow the line of logic to its unreasonable end. No, she couldn’t possibly fathom the truth. Nothing his fellow cops could do if she did. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was going to do. He saw what it took for Sam to destroy the Ripper. George knew he didn’t have that kind of power.
It took a vampire to kill a vampire.
The technician gawked at him with her round blue eyes. “Someone ate the pusher? As in had him for dinner?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
A thoughtful look crossed the technician’s face as she took the calipers and did the math. “The bite radius lines up, but no human would have the strength to rip out a man’s throat, much less his heart.”
“Cannibals?” Mei looked like she had the urge to flee.
“We’ve seen enough. Let’s get out of here,” George said.
“Where to?”
“A kid named Slash was present when the murder went down. We did a search, came up empty handed. First we’ll check Slash’s house. If he’s there, I’d like his point of view on things. If not, we’ll file a Missing Persons.”
She frowned. “Why am I only now hearing about the kid? Think he could be the killer?”
“Let’s check him. When we’re finished, I fill you in on everything over a cup of joe.” George winced.
Mei raised a brow. “You okay?”
“Bad use of slang. I hate the Forties.”
Mei followed him out the door, leaving the technician to her work.
* * * * *
The sun sank with the speed of hope. George noted the coming twilight. They didn’t have much time before the vampire struck again. The interview with Slash’s mother proved fruitless. Just another teary eyed mom who berated herself because she couldn’t keep tabs on her own child.
“To be fair, ma’am it isn’t always as easy as it sounds. Kids have minds of their own,” Mei told her. “Underdeveloped minds: sometimes smart, sometimes stupid; but stubborn, always stubborn.”
George promised to keep the woman posted as to any news of her son.
They were climbing into the car when his cell phone rang.
Mei raised a brow at his ringtone. “Big Korn fan?”
“Matches my mood of late.”
He flipped it open and listened. “Loman,” the captain said. “Heads up. We got a call. Something’s happened at The Blue Dog.”
“On our way.”
The car squealed to a stop next to a black and white. Up ahead, an ambulance peeled away, siren screaming.
George approached the uniformed cop, with Mei on his heels. “What’s up?”
“Some guy called from inside. Said to come quick. Said someone was being attacked. When we arrived, there were two guys lying on the ground. One was dressed in black leather, some kind of Goth outfit. The other wasn’t more than a kid. Both were barely moving. Drug overdose, it appears. Paramedics took them to Saint Anthony Hospital.”
George scowled. “No sign of a struggle. Wonder why the guy called it in.”
“And why would the Goth-guy fight with a kid?” Mei asked.
“Drug deal gone bad?” the uniform suggested.
George didn’t answer him. He turned to head for the car, gesturing for Mei to follow. “Looks like they need to beef up patrol around The Blue Dog,” he said. “Too many drug deals going on around here.”
1 2 3 4 5
|