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Frank Mosby chewed on his cigar keeping his eye on Velvet while she read every sentence of the search warrant. His team was already going through the house. Rankin was on the phone calling their lawyer. She looked up at him after folding the document. He couldn’t help give her a smile. The great Velvet Washington had to give in to the law at last. She was pissed about it, but controlled. Frank appreciated her circumstances just fine.
“Where is Omar Henderson?” she asked.
“Don’t know, ma’am. We ain’t partners anymore.” He took a book of matches from his coat pocket. “Thanks to you.”
“Don’t even think about lighting a cigar in my house.”
“Normally, ma’am, I’d comply with a lady’s request,” he retorted and struck a match. “But seeing as-” The match instantly consumed itself and the book of matches burst into flames. “Holy-” Frank danced around trying to avoid any random sparks. He stomped on the book of matches like he was putting out a forest fire. “Cute, ma’am, real cute! I believe that is called assaulting a police officer.”
“You struck those matches, and I’ll do more than assault you if you disrespect my home again.”
“Strong attitude there ma’am,” he said, clamping his teeth down on the unlit cigar. “But I am an officer of the law, and ma’am, you ain’t above it. I’m advising you to remember that.”
“Velvet, stop talking to him,” Rankin cautioned, still holding the phone.
“Of course, that is your privilege, ma’am,” Frank stated mildly. “For now, anyway,” he added, giving her a challenging look in the eye. “Sooner or later, you have to answer for that dead woman sitting on your front porch.”
“Why haven’t you people taken her away?” Velvet demanded. “You’ve had enough time to get warrants and eat lunch.”
“Why don’t you leave police work to the police, all right?”
“I want her body off my porch in the next ten minutes.”
“Or what?” Frank flashed, snatching the cigar from his teeth. “You gonna tamper with a crime scene?”
“This isn’t the crime scene. Not a drop of her blood was spilled here.”
Frank silently walked around the living room, not touching anything he saw. “Normally,” he said, making his way back to her. “Some poor slob of a detective might just conclude that.” He scratched the back of his blond balding head. “Only that girl’s throat was all torn out and not a drop of blood was left in her. Neighbors say she was staying here until the last couple of weeks.”
“So?” Rankin placed the phone back on the hook. He went to stand before the detective, slightly in front of Velvet. “What does that have to do with her death?”
“Mister Rankin,” Frank said tightly. He didn’t like dealing with two suspects at the same time, especially these two. Strong ass personalities they had. “Parts of that girl’s throat and chest are missing. She was chomped to the bone. Head is barely on her shoulders. You saw all that, sir?” Rankin just gave him an impatient expression, crossing his arms. “I’d say a werewolf got hold of her. Full moon last night, you know? That or some crazy enraged vampire. Your boss here resides with both.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Rankin objected and forced an obvious fake mildness to his voice.
“No?” Frank referred to his notepad, flipping through the pages. “It’s common knowledge, sir, that the vampire known as Wilder lives here. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors regarding these two.” He made another show of checking his notes. “And a youngster named Devon McNeil. He’s a very active werewolf.”
“Devon does not live here,” Rankin informed him tersely. “And the vampire known as Wilder is not crazy or given to rages. No one associated with Velvet Washington and Associates had any reason to kill Celeste. She was a friend and employee.”
“A friend?” Frank peeped around Rankin to Velvet. “You telling me this girl, a known kitchen witch and you were friends?”
“Frank,” Rankin asked. “How do you know Celeste was a kitchen witch? It wasn’t known and neither was she. Neither she, nor any associate ever talked our business to the neighbors. How do you know anything about Celeste?”
“Step aside, sir. I was talking to Miss Washington.”
“Not without her lawyer present.”
“Okay, we can make this all official if you prefer.” He regarded them in turn, neither replied. “All right, then.” Frank strolled off into the kitchen.
At the table enjoying a tall glass of something thick and red, sat the vampire known as Wilder. Frank approached him, and pulled out a chair. Wilder didn’t react at him placing his foot in the chair.
“Ain’t even sundown,” Frank said. “And look at you, all bright eyed.”
“I know you know the sun has no real influence on some vampires sleep cycles.”
“I know it doesn’t affect Jerome so much. I guess he gets it from you.” Not waiting for an invitation, Frank straddled the chair resting his elbows on the back. “I don’t know what happened to that girl, except somebody killed her. My guess it was a wolf.”
“Why are you guessing? Fairlight has one of the best crime lab teams in America.”
“Her body ain’t going to any lab. And I just lied. I know what and who happened to the girl, and so do you.”
Wilder finished his drink and set the glass between them, seemingly regarding the detective with little interest.
“I don’t hold with killing women. Now, that’s the truth, sir. And since she was a witch fooling around with vampires and wolves and lord only knows what else, well, let’s just say officially no one else really cares.”
“And that means what to me?” Wilder took the empty glass to the sink and rinsed it before placing it in the dishwasher. He went back to stand over Frank at the table. “No one in this house is a fool, and we don’t care for the constant harassment.”
“Sir, I can appreciate that, but you people are considered high profile. Your witch and the slayer are on everyone’s shit list.”
“You mean, Buster and Jerome, the criminals you really work for.”
“Sir, I ain’t going to deny I’ve had dealings with Jerome. For the right price, I can turn my head or turn deaf and dumb at some activity. I even told myself it didn’t matter what creeps and ghoulies did among themselves.”
“A very noble attitude.”
“Sir!” Frank got to his feet, bravely he held Wilder’s gaze. He stood close enough for Wilder to feel his tobacco scented breath on his face. “Women are getting killed left and right! Women you know!”
“Also women you were sworn to protect and serve.”
“I know that, Mister Wilder. Jerome is out of control, he thinks he can do anything.”
“He can,” Wilder said. “Thanks to greedy weaklings like you.”
“Sir, he wants your witch.”
“I know that.”
“No sir. He’s really coming at her. The kids are calling him the witch killer. He’s their hero, and it’s going to his head.”
“Velvet isn’t weak minded like Samantha or stupid like Celeste.”
“Then- then you knew?”
“That Celeste was conspiring with Jerome?” Wilder gave a short laugh. “What I’m wondering is, how much you had to do with these deaths?”
“Look, I’m a crook, not a woman killer! That wolf woman was killed by Samantha and Miss Washington killed her. Before that I did what I could, sir. Now, things are all out of hand and I can’t stop it. I need your help.”
“What did you do, Frank?”
Frank lowered his eyes and backed up. It was a mistake asking a vampire for help. They didn’t care about anything, but their own vampire games.
“Frank, you came for help. First you have to come clean, tell me what you did.”
Frank shook his head trying to clear the lightness he suddenly felt. Wilder was doing something! “Sir, you... Jerome he’ll...”
“Jerome has nothing to do with what is going on in this kitchen.”
“I betrayed him before,” Frank confessed. Amazingly, he felt relieved, grateful for the chance to confide in someone. “I- I told Henderson that old witch was at the mansion. I knew he’d tell Miss Washington.”
“What about Celeste?”
“Jerome killed her.”
“I mean when did it start?”
“What?”
“Their association.”
“I don’t know. Jerome never mentioned her to me.”
“Then how do you know what happened?”
“The kids were talking about it this morning. Jerome called me over to the mansion. He and the Mayor ordered me to treat Velvet Washington and Associates as prime suspects.”
“Interesting,” Wilder remarked with a frown. “What do you want from me?”
“I think you can get him to call this thing off. You and him are close, right?”
“Not for some time.”
“Sir, you made him.” Frank looked behind him towards the kitchen door before continuing. “I know that still means something. I know it does to Jerome. It’s her fault, and personally, I can see Jerome’s side.”
“Really?”
“Sir, ain’t she the reason you got kicked out of the coven you founded? You know that was a bad reflection on Jerome, him not being able to save his sire from the clutches of a witch. Her own kind frowns on her behavior.”
“She is not acting alone, Frank,” Wilder spoke calmly, but his eyes and face expressed his displeasure with the subject matter. “I stand beside her in everything she does.”
“No matter what, I suppose?” Frank asked. “Fine, but you know what I’m saying.”
“Enlighten me, Frank.”
“How did you expect him to take it? You turned your back on your own kind. You broke his heart.”
“Heart!” Wilder bellowed, spinning around the kitchen. “I’ll cut out his heart! You go tell him that Wilder is no longer conflicted. Velvet’s enemies are mine, and I will use all my strength and power to protect her!”
“Sir, just calm down.” Frank waited about two seconds, then decided to just spill it. “You also need to know Jerome’s fury ain’t just about you and her. He’s got a new axe to grind. He killed Celeste just for telling him about Velvet and the wolf man.”
“Frank, get your people out of this house, and take Celeste’s body with you.”
Frank shook his head. “She never should have slept with that wolf man,” he said with chagrin, then left Wilder alone in the kitchen.
“No,” Wilder said under his breath. “She should not have slept with that wolf man.”