Page 65 of High Stakes and Soulmates
I hesitate, well aware that as a detective, I shouldn’t be sharing the information, but since she’s a vampire, there’s the possibility that she could know something. “We’re looking for an unregistered vampire who is moving around Casimir’s territory. If you hear of anything, we would be really happy to know more.”
“What makes you think they’re unregistered? Couldn’t they be one of the registered vampires?” she asks.
“They could, but at this point, we have alibis for almost all of them. The rest we are keeping an eye on, but the likelihood it’s one of them is slim. We’re not afraid to look into everyone. That being said, you know this area well?”
“I do.”
“I apologize. I feel rude that you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“Clara,” she says.
“Sorry. I missed it the last time we were here, and it just got more awkward to ask the longer we talked.”
She laughs. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. So you were asking if I knew the area well.”
“Right. So, an elderly couple with the last name of Witt was murdered the other day. They had a son?—”
“Phil?” she guesses.
“Yeah. Can you tell me about him?”
Clara leans against the bar. “Uh… I don’t know him overly well. He did work here for a bit.” She motions to the bartender, who slides a drink to a patron before coming over.
“This is Lauren. You worked with Phil Witt for a bit, right?”
“I did. He didn’t stay long. He said he just picks up odd jobs here and there when he needs money, so he came to help with rush hours during the peak season,” she says quite loudly so I can hear over the live band.
“His parents were among the victims in Casimir’s district,” Clara tells her.
“Oh no! That’s awful. I forgot how young he was. It showed, I guess; I just never paid much attention to it. That must have been hard on him.”
“Do you know anything else about him?” I ask.
Lauren shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t.”
I notice a vampire watching us, though I’m sure it’s just someone being nosy. She looks away the second she sees me looking, and Lauren and Clara talk a bit more about Phil, but it’s nothing much of interest.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll get those drinks now and head back.”
“Oh, of course,” Clara agrees. “Some blood for Donovan and Joaquin, then, and what would you like, Cyrus?”
“How about a Coke?” I ask.
“No alcohol?” Lauren questions.
“No, thank you,” I say, not really wanting to get a buzz when I’m more interested in getting answers.
As I wait for the drinks, I notice the woman glance at me again before she moves toward a booth at the front of the club. I grab the three drinks, and instead of heading toward the back, I start her way, wading through vampires and the occasional human. I don’t exactly know my plan… like am I going to just strike up a conversation and say, “I noticed you being nosy at the bar so you must know something?” But I don’t need to worry because she almost instantly gives me a tilt of her head. I walk over and she smiles at me.
“You were asking about Phil Witt? I noticed they happened to leave out the part where he was fired because he was luring humans into some strange… group or something. He was drawing too much attention to himself. I mean, you can look around and tell that the humans are here because they know about vampires—theywantto be fed on by vampires—so he must have been doing something quite alarming to make the people in the club anxious enough about the attention he was drawing to himself to fire him.”
“What kind of group was he luring them to?”
“I don’t know what he was promising the humans, but I can’t fathom it was anything good. This is what happens when there’s no regulation in these parts, and instead, there are just a couple of vampires who think they’re doing a fine job of controlling things only when they get out of hand.” She glances over at the bar where the two women are watching us. The look they’re giving us is making me feel uneasy. It makes me want to get back to Joaquin. I hate being surrounded by so many vampires.
“That’s all I have to say,” she concludes as she gives me a smile and waves to a human man who hurries over to sit withher. I assume that means she’s done with me, so I head back to deliver the drinks to Joaquin and Donovan, all the while pretending I don’t notice eyes on me. Was it wrong of me to stop and talk to her? I mean… they allowed her in the club, so she can’t be that bad. Or is it that they don’t like what she might have told me? I reach for the door and push it open before freezing.
The noise from the band is booming behind me, the drums escalating as I look at the desk that’s been flipped over and the room that’s been torn apart. Papers are fluttered everywhere, but my eyes are drawn to the flecks of blood discoloring them. There’s a secondary door open that I slowly inch toward, confused what the fuck has happened… until I see blood streaked along the floor like someone had dragged someone who was bleeding. I step into the adjoining room where I see Donovan lying on a crushed crate.
