Page 53 of Hunting My Vampire

History taught us this, he told me. I had a feeling he was right.

The tide was turning, and it felt like the vampires were rising slowly and carefully, in the dark and out of sight, but undeniably so. At the forefront was Governor Leo da Salle, a charismatic businessman who had risen to power after coming from humble beginnings.

He had studied law and gone into local government, climbing the political ladder until he was elected governor of the most powerful state in the country. My investigations revealed that he had an interest in almost every big business and company in the state, from building and manufacturing to banking and finance. It was incredible to me to see how much his influence had grown and how even in Washington at the top tiers of government, he was linked to influential people.

The bastard who had attacked Kaya was working for Da Salle.

It wasn’t information he gave up willingly, or easily.

But after a few hours in the castle dungeon, being worked on by Zoran in his many creative and imaginative ways, he started singing.

It wasn’t the prettiest tune I’d ever heard, though.

He told us that Da Salle had taken a hit out on Kaya and had been trying to get rid of her for a while but that she kept evading him. The explosion had been aimed at getting rid of both of us, two flies with one stone.

I told Zoran to press the guy on Simon but it seemed he didn’t know anything about him or any so-called arrangement. I wondered how much anyone on the board knew about Da Salle and I was suddenly suspicious about Marcello. I decided to drop in on another board member, an accountant from Nevada, who had so far proven to be a big help when it came to manipulating the books.

Troy Brandt lived on an estate outside Las Vegas with his ex-showgirl wife, Shenelle and her two children from previous relationships. He came across as clean-cut and straight-laced but I’d heard about his wild side and a gambling habit that had, at times, been a problem.

The company had helped him out, getting him help for his addiction, for which we had demanded only his loyalty. I had never needed to call on him before but the time had come. I made a few calls and found out that Troy was playing in a high stakes poker game that evening at a private venue.

I made sure to be at the house near Reno, that evening.

It was a black-tie event, with expensive cars pulling into the driveway from the late afternoon. The host was a former football player and Hollywood actor. He’d made a fortune in sports betting. I had no intention of playing cards but I wanted to get hold of Troy when he was not expecting me to ensure he didn’t have time to prepare or blindside me.

The set up was almost professional, with blackjack, poker and roulette tables operated by croupiers who managed the house funds. I found Troy fairly quickly and kept to the background, watching him, noticing how his intensity increasedas the stakes went up. He was spending vast amounts of money, I noticed, losing more than he was winning as the evening went on and he kept drinking.

I had checked his bank accounts earlier in the day and had traced substantial payments that came his way each month courtesy of a supplier identified only by the initials A.R.D. It didn’t take me long to establish that this stood for Aaron Rand Development, one of the companies owned by Leo Da Salle.

I found Troy’s car, a smart Bentley, quickly enough. His driver, a timid man, was scared off easily once he realized who he was dealing with. I got into the driver’s seat and waited. Then I called Troy from his own car, telling him his ride was ready.

“What do you mean?” he yelled, rather drunkenly into the phone. “You’re waiting for me, not the other way around! Asshole!”

“I think you’ll find that is incorrect. You will come down to your car or I will come up there and drag you out by your collar. You have been spending my money and let me tell you Troy, straight-up, things are not looking good for you right now.”

“Who-who is th-th-this?” he stammered.

“I think you will find your questions answered imminently.”

I waited for him outside the house, watching as he came out with two bodyguards I had seen earlier in the evening. Why would my man Troy need bodyguards? As they came running down the stairs towards the car, I hit them with the stun gun, then I grabbed Troy by the collar and shoved him into the back seat of the car.

The man was shaking and crying now, a pitiful example of shame and guilt.

“Please Mr. Beaufort, I beg you, please, spare my life!” He begged me over and over. I tied his wrists and then drove him out into the desert.

By the time I had stopped the car and opened the back door, he was whimpering and ready to tell me whatever I needed to know. Basically, the board belonged to Da Salle. He had bought out every single board member through bribery and blackmail, getting rid of those who stood in his way. Others, like Dominque were pawns in his game for power. He intended getting rid of me and putting Simon in my place.

“My brother knows of this?”

Troy shrugged, his cheeks wet with tears. “Nobody says no to Da Salle, he is like the devil! Whatever he wants, he gets, nothing is impossible for him!”

He told me that over the past year Da Salle had found ways of dominating almost every sector of the company. He was careful of not breaking the law, as this could harm his image. That was why he was using other means, like the strikes and the hacking scheme, to get rid of me.

“The explosion?”

Troy nodded.

“And nobody came to me with this information?”

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