Well, at least he wasn't either press or an attorney. I fished out one of my cards, and handed it back. “Yeah. The office said you'd be up this way.” And I had totally forgotten he was coming.
As I spoke, he pulled up a chair and sat. “I'll just take a moment of your time, for now,” he said. “I understand you've had a possible vampire sighting here.”
I looked at Hester, and she avoided my gaze, obviously enjoying my plight. There's something about being public servants that makes us relish coworkers having to deal with loonies.
“No, we haven't,” I said firmly.
“According to the local paper… ”
I cut him off. “It's a window peeker. That's all there is to it. Nothing more.”
“I see.” He looked at Hester and Dr. Peters for any sign of support. Two more deadpan expressions were never seen. “Your sheriff said that… ”
Right. Lamar. “That's okay, he might have been a little unclear. He, oh, lost a relative today.” I didn't want to be rude; I just wanted to be rid of him. “Sorry I couldn't be more help.”
“I hunt them, you know,” he said, looking at me. “I've been hunting one in particular for a very long time. I think this could be that one.”
“Hold it right there,” I said. “I'll say this one time. Just one. Do not hunt anything in this county that does not require a hunting license. Am I clear? If you interfere in any way with any investigation you'll be wearing orange and eating shitty food for several months.” I stared at him. “I promise.”
“Oh, I believe you,” he said with a slight smile. “Completely. But being so sensitive sort of gives the game away, doesn't it? Now I'm even more inclined to believe that you do have a vampire incident here.”
People can be pretty exasperating sometimes. It did occur to me, rather belatedly, that he might have something that Harry could use regarding the death of Randy Baumhagen. Might. It was connected to our case, after all, and that was what had brought our vampire hunter to us in the first place. All the way from Milwaukee, for God's sake.
“Well, just a second,” I said. “I know vampires don't exist, but we might have somebody who dresses up like one. Thing is, he might be involved in a case back on the Wisconsin side. Do you have a name to go with whoever you're hunting?”
“No. No, I don't. Just methods, habits. No name. Not yet.”
“What methods?”
“Well, he appears at a door or window. Asks to come in. If he's invited, he enters, and begins the seduction of his victim.”
“And, then, if he's not invited in? What, does he just stay out?”
“Oh, yes. Vampires can't come in unless they're invited.” He was serious.
Hester just couldn't resist. “What does he do to them?”
“He eventually consumes some of their blood.”
“Well, of course.” I kept a straight face. It was a vampire, after all. What did I expect?
“He experiences what they experience, when he does that. He shares with them. They tell me it's very intimate.” William Chester looked at us each in turn. “It's the pheromones. He ingests their pheromones and experiences what they feel.”
Dr. Peters snorted. “No. No, I'm afraid that doesn't work.”
“You laymen must understand… ” began William Chester.
“I'm a forensic pathologist,” said Dr. Peters.
Silence. Then the vampire hunter fished in his breast pocket and handed Dr. Peters his card. “Then you may well need this,” he said, with remarkable aplomb.
Dr. Peters, to his credit, accepted it with good grace, and put it in his pocket.
“Look,” I said, “they have a case back across the river in Conception County. You might be able to give them a hand with that. Not that it's a vampire,” I said quickly. “But check in with Investigator Harry Ullman. Tell him Deputy Houseman sent you. Tell him I think you might have something he could be interested in.” I didn't tell him to have Harry call me. Harry was going to do that, without a doubt.
“Excellent. I do have quite a depth of knowledge on the subject, by the way. I know how to… well, track them. Follow, if that's a better word.”
“Stalking is a crime,” I said. “People are pretty sensitive about that.”
“Thank you.” He stood. “If I develop anything, I'll be in touch.”
“Anytime.”
I watched him leave. Hester kicked me under the table. “Way to go, Houseman.”
“What?”
“Harry's gonna kill you.”
“Not if I can point him at Lamar first,” I said.
“Aren't you going to call him?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Nope. Some packages are best left unannounced.” I looked over at Dr. Peters. “You sure shut him up when you told him you were a forensic pathologist,” I said.
“It stops lots of conversations,” said my favorite ME. “Trust me.”
It was totally dark when we got back to the Mansion. I grabbed a bunch of “Permission to Search” forms from the briefcase in my trunk before walking back up the steps to the huge house. Hester had preceded me, and was on her way to talk with the three lab techs up in Edie's room.
I found the group in the kitchen, with my favorite dispatcher, Sally, doing guard duty. She had joined the Sheriff's Reserve about six months back, and was in full sheriff's department uniform, including handgun and cuffs.
“Hey, Sally! Lookin' good, there.”
“Houseman,” she said, with her mouth full, “you missed a great meal!” She swallowed. “I didn't know you guys got to eat like this.”
The long table in the kitchen was set with rustic sorts of dishes, with the remains of a big tossed salad, the remaining third of a big bread loaf, a large glass dish with some sort of casserole, and a big glass pitcher of tea.
“You're catching on really fast, there, kid,” I said. Sally, being about five feet tall, and weighing in at all of a hundred pounds with her red hair wet, could afford to eat. “Everybody behave while we were gone?”
Sally nodded, and Holly Finn said, “We wouldn't want to argue with Annie Oakley, here.” She said it pleasantly enough, but there was a mocking tone about the statement, as well.
“You got that right, Huckleberry,” said Sally. Touche.
I got the impression they didn't like each other.
Hanna was standing at the cupboards, removing coffee cups, and Toby was just setting a pie down on the table. Everybody else was seated. Everybody together. The timing seemed good to me.
“Well, as long as you're all here,” I said, “I'm going to officially request your permission to search this house.”
Verbal pandemonium. Something like, “No way,” from Huck, “Not likely,” from Kevin, “Sure,” from Toby, “Well,” from Hanna, and all at the same time. Melissa, having been drinking tea at the very moment I asked, got in her reply in the pause that followed the initial outburst.
She swallowed. “Why?” The only sensible response in the lot.
“Be glad to tell you,” I said. “Is there any coffee still in the pot?”
Hanna got busy, pouring me a cup. Genuinely nice, I thought. She did seem to be the one hardest hit by Edie's death, as well.
I made them wait a few seconds, as I took the proffered cup from Hanna, and laid my “Permission to Search” forms on the counter. This was one of those little semi-crucial moments in an investigation that just won't happen twice.
Toby stood perfectly still, halfway between the table and the counter, the pie in his hands, staring. I certainly had his attention.
“We have strong indications that Edie didn't commit suicide,” I said. “Several.” I paused, and nobody seemed to breathe. “We're now in the preliminary stages of a murder investigation.”
I was really expecting surprise, at least on the part of most of them, and probably an argument that a murder was impossible, or at least way out of the question. I expected that.
What I didn't expect was Toby tossing the whole pie on the kitchen counter, saying something about “I gotta go,” and disappearing out through the screen door into the dark night. To be fair, I don't think anybody else expected that, either.