Page 49 of Top Secret Vampire

After refastening the back of the dress, she turned the doll over and stroked its face. “Lovely. I can see why someone would buy this for a precious child.” Her gaze went wistful. “I was raised by a kind enough family after I was found abandoned, wandering through town. My new family didn’t have much, especially after the depression. There was never enough money for a treasured plaything such as this.”

“I’m sorry,” Reese said.

“I’ve always wondered if I had a mother and father who adored me.” Margaret’s sad smile rose. “When they found me, I told them my name was Margaret, but they couldn’t determine where I came from. For some reason, the name Margaret May echoes in my mind. Perhaps May was my last name, though there were no Mays in the area. My new parents gave me their last name. When I was small, I’d make up stories that my parents had lost me and were looking for me, desperate to find me. They’d knock on my new parents’ door and demand she give me to them. They’d take me to their glorious home where they’d treat me like a princess.”

Her soft huff jutted out. “A silly dream that never came true. My family treated me well, but it’s not the same, is it? Oh, I know lives can be better for adopted children, but that wasn’t the case for me.”

What a sad story.

Her wistful smile rose. “There’s nothing to be done about it now, is there? It’s water under the bridge, as my adopted parents used to say. No use longing for such things now. I’m much too old to dream.”

“No one is too old to dream.” Reese strode around the desk and gave Margaret a hug, stepping back after. “Everyone deserves a loving family.”

Fortunately, someone had given Margaret a home and, to some extent, affection, even if it hadn’t been her original parents.

“Now, about that book I was thinking of,” Margaret said. “It was among my adopted mother’s things, and I put them all on one shelf. Honestly, my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and I’ve barely looked them over. But I vaguely remember there being one that might have some information about your lovely home. Let me see if I can find it for you.” She walked slowly over to the farthest bookcase and ran her fingertip along the spines. “Hereyou are.” Pulling a book from the shelf, she returned to us and gave it to Reese. “Normally, we ask guests to study our books here inside the office, but I’m about to close for the day. If you’ll let me make a photocopy of your driver’s license and write down details as to where I can locate you if need be, I’ll allow you to take the book home with you for a night. Please promise to return it in the same condition by the end of the day tomorrow.”

“That would be great,” Reese said, giving Margaret her driver’s license that the elderly lady photocopied using a machine in the small room beyond this one before she handed it back.

“Enjoy,” Margaret said, though her smile faded. “I will point out one detail. You mentioned this doll belonged to Jolene Molson’s daughter?”

Reese nodded.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Jolene had no children.”

After thanking her, we left, striding toward the parking lot.

“It’s strange that she thinks Jolene had no children,” Reese said as we stopped at her SUV to leave the doll and book in the back. “As the director of the historical society, Margaret must be well versed on the history of the town and those who lived here. I doubt the community was larger back then, and I assume the records were good enough to indicate something like that.”

“People received birth certificates in that era. While they often weren’t born in a hospital, the birth was registered with the town.”

“Maybe the book will give us more information.”

She locked the vehicle, and we walked down Main Street, entering Shriek & Nail, the local hardware and all-around general store. A bell jangled overhead, and we were greeted with the scent of fresh lumber and herbs. The wooden floors creaked underfoot, adding a rustic charm to the business. A long counter stretched across the right side, where clerks busily rangup customers’ purchases. Rows of shelves stretching all the way to the exposed beams overhead held an assortment of tools, and neatly organized bins had been stacked along the back wall.

In another section, I spied stacks of canned goods beside garden seeds in colorful packets. Barrels containing various items, like loose nails you could buy by weight, had been tucked into spots here and there.

“Can I help you?” a teenage yeti asked, coming over to stand beside us.

“I’m looking for a weapon for self-defense,” Reese said.

The yeti glanced at me. “You’re standing here with a vampire, and you’re worried about protection?”

“I can’t be around her all the time,” I said.

“I get it, dude,” he said. “I get it.” He waved for us to follow him. “We’ve got guns and knives and an assortment of other things.” Stopping beside a glass-fronted, locked case, he nodded. “Handguns are wonderful, but you need to know how to use them, and you should practice regularly. Since you said self-defense, I’ll point out that guns are great, a solid line of defense. But if whoever’s after you happens to take the gun from you, then . . .”

“What about a knife?” Reese asked, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

“Same deal. Perfect for gutting someone.” His low chuckle rang out. “I speak figuratively. No need to do something like that.” He lifted his clawed hand. “Aim to disarm and disable them, not kill them, I always say.”

“Can you suggest anything else?” I asked.

“Pepper or bear spray. Both are legal in Massachusetts, though you should know that pepper spray isn’t legal in all states, and they’ll take it from you if you travel over the border to Canada.” He unlocked the case and handed Reese a cylinder on a keychain. “Bear spray contains capsaicin, a natural ingredientfound in chili peppers, which makes it effective at deterring aggressive animals without causing lasting harm. Take it from one who knows, it’s effective.”

“You tried it yourself?” I asked.

“Not on purpose, dude. I was checking it out when I was a little kid, and I kind of accidentally shot it straight into my uncle’s face. From personal experience, I can verify that bear spray works on monsters. Yetis, anyway.”

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