《City of Devils》


 January 15th

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    PART ONE:


    THE SUITE GIRL</h2>


    <hr>


    January 15<sup>th</sup>


    Grand Marquis Hotel. Downtown. Presence requested ASAP.


    Ask for Sergeant Lopez upon arrival.


    Presencerequested ASAP.


    It was probably a dead one or two.


    Or more.


    She shook her head. No, she didn''t need more. The city didn''t need more. Not for another night, another week, for eternity.


    Hoping for the best, she crumbled the note into a ball before shoving it back into her coat pocket. She checked inside her coat pocket, and relieved to realize that she didn''t leave that damn card home again. Her identification.Dr. Jacqueline Farris, Medical Examiner for the Malikan City County Office of the Medical Examiner. She couldn''t get pass the caution tape without it.


    Jackie took acareful step forward. Not the easiest move to make on an icy sidewalk in a pair of old Converse''s she had shoved on while leaving her warm, cozy apartment in haste.


    "Okay," she said, determined, bringing the Styrofoam cup to her shivering lips. One cup full of caffeine, two shots of espresso. Robinson with tons of sugar. Goodness, if her doctor was standing by, he would have a conniption. Or force her into the hospital. But what could Jackie do? It was approaching eleven at night. She had a job to do, and she was living off a couple of hours sleep.And this was supposed to be her day off.


    Jackie tossed the cup into the garbage can next to her and glanced up. The bright golden sign, hanging high, several feet from her, almost removed the droopiness from her eyes¡ª


    The Grand Marquis Hotel. The Waldorf-Astoria of Malikan City. A grand Art Deco building, standing forty stories high, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. It was located several blocks from a major port and train hub. Its rates so obscene that the place was locally known as "Millionaire''s Inn" or simply "Millionaire''s." It might not be the most creative name, but it stood.


    It was also the scene of a murder.


    Another murder.


    The thirtieth since the year began.


    Two weeks ago.


    Jackie dropped her head and rubbed her hands together, attempting to stay warm. She studied her surroundings. It was just another chilly winter night in Malikan City. People were rushing past, paying no mind to her. Cars sped past her in the street behind her. There were a couple of police cars in the vicinity but that was the norm.


    She took a deep breath, picked up her briefcase, and approached the entrance.Look for Sergeant Lopez, she reminded herself as walked past the attendants.


    It was time to get to work.


    ***


    "Dr. Farris. It''s good to see you again."


    Jackie gave Sergeant Lopez, her escort, a tired smile as she approached him. She had seen him before, a young man, in passing, but never had the chance to put the name to the face. "Wished it was under better circumstances," she said.


    Lopez nodded. "Don''t we all."


    "Yeah..." Jackie trailed off and the two fell into silence. She glanced at the receptionist''s desk on her right. "Goodness. Imagine staying in such a hotel..." she remarked, not believing she was standing inside such a luxurious place for the first time. It was everything she had imagined and more.


    "Not with our salaries," Lopez joked, but only partially.


    Jackie let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, I know."


    The cop nodded and remained silent as he led Jackie through the crowd of guests and some police officers to the elevator bank.


    Jackie studied her surroundings as she waited for the elevator. She was amazed at the calmness. A crime, a murder, had just occurred on the floors above and everyone was calm. At least, one person, who wasn''t a cop, in the crowd had to have known; word traveled fast especially in the world of social media, and yet everyone was calm.


    Interesting.


    "Victim?" Jackie inquired, shoving off her Robinson faux-suede gloves and jamming them into her wool coat. She followed the cop into an elevator designed for only them, staring down at her dry brown skin, mumbling under her breath about hating the cold.


    Lopez pressed the button to the 29th floor.


    "Caucasian female. Brown hair. Slim build. Due to the circumstances of her death, can''t provide much else."


    Jackie grimaced at the cop''s words.Circumstances of her death¡ª those dreaded words did not bode well for any plans to have a good night sleep. She should have taken an earlier nap when she had the chance. She shook her head; she might only be in her late-thirties, she was already getting too old for this job.


    "ID?"


    "None found."


    "The room?"


    "We''re checking on it as we speak."


    Jackie nodded. "How does she look?"


    "Like the Black Dahlia."


    "Wonderful." Jackie stopped to compose herself. This was not the time to react in such a manner. After all, she was a medical examiner. A coroner. An expert at seeing and examining dead bodies. She could handle it. "Show me the way.¡±


    ***


    Several minutes later, Jackie was following Lopez down the hallway of the 29<sup>th</sup> floor. It was odd to see the hotel''s grand hallway full of law enforcement, paramedics and crime scene investigators. She appreciated the hallway d¨¦cor and wanted to check out some of the rooms, but all entrances all blocked by hotel staff.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The actual room was an executive suite. It, too, was well-decorated and in pristine condition. There was no indication of a struggle, a break-in, or even a crime having been committed. Jackie mentioned her observations to the officer. His response was a grimace.


    "Follow me," Lopez said, leading Jackie further into the suite, stopping right front of the master bedroom door. He deeply exhaled and with hesitance and fear, slowly opened the door. "She''s in here."


    Jackie followed right in and abruptly stopped in her tracks. Bringing a hand to her mouth, she breathed, "Holy mother of God..."


    She now understood the officer''s reference to the eighty-year-old unsolved murder.


    Moments later, after grasping the fact that she was standing a few feet from a nude, badly mutilated body, and so much blood, she turned to Lopez who looked like he was about to throw up. He needed to leave the room if he felt that way. "When''s homicide arriving?"


    "Detective Robinson and Detective Yuma should be here soon. Traffic, you know."


    Jackie nodded and glanced down at the victim before pulling on a pair of latex gloves and commenced her inspection.


    Her nose scrunched up as she took a first, concerted look at the woman''s deformed face. As a seasoned medical examiner, she had seen her fair share of decapitations and dismemberments¡ª perhaps too many to be considered healthy¡ªbut this, there was no comparison to the sight in front of her.


    The victim was nude, andin half. The parts laid about a foot apart with a pool of blood and intestines strewn between them. There were lacerations all over her face. She was laid out as if she was a disregarded mannequin. Her arms and legs spread apart. The lacerations all over her were clean and concise save for the torso.


    Jackie searched for anything that might point to the motive behind such a brutal crime but came up empty-handed. Perhaps, not. There was one thing she could determine: this was a work of a sick person. A sadist. The murder had been committed so passionately, so violently, so intricately. The killer had taken its time disfiguring the victim, ridding the victim of all decency. And the Joker-influenced cut from one edge to the mouth to the other¡ªJackie had to swallow all urges to vomit.


    "I assume she knew her killer," Lopez mumbled, scanning the room as the paramedics packed their things and said their goodbyes. As soon as they left, more cops flooded into the room. "There''s no evidence of a break-in. No murder weapon¡­"


    Jackie nodded in agreement and knelt further down. The killer had given special attention to the deformation of the victim''s face. "This was obviously personal," she concluded. "This poor girl." She did a once over and nodded; the decomposing process hadn''t started yet; the body was still fresh. The woman''s face still had coloring. The blood hadn''t dried up yet.


    "She''s most likely been dead for maybe an hour or two. A few, tops," Jackie hypothesized, suppressing yet another yawn as she stood back up. A distinct mark on the victim''s body caught her eye. Tilting her head, she studied it¡ªtwo bite marks on her neck. They were deep, still reaming with blood.


    Jackie glanced at the officer to see if he had noticed them as well, but he was busy talking to the newly arrived cops. She looked down again. As disturbing as the bites were, they could make this investigation a little easier. Bites contained saliva and saliva contained DNA. With the help of forensic scientists, they could detect some DNA; they could possibly trace the DNA back to its owner and find out what kind of sick person would do something like this.


    She called for Lopez.


    "Did you or anyone happen to see any traces of an animal? A snake, maybe?"


    The officer aimlessly looked around and shrugged. "No. I''m pretty sure this hotel generally has a strict no-animal policy. Only a few rooms permit it. This room isn''t one of them, but I can ask?"


    "That would be great, thank you," Jackie said. She watched the officer leave before leaning over and carefully titling the victim''s head in search of more marks.


    No obvious signs of asphyxiation. No other glaring marks found except for a small heart tattoo placed on the upper neck¡ª


    Albanisi.


    Jackie snapped her head up when the familiar name reached her ears. A terrifying name right from the lips of one of the cops guarding the scene.


    She gulped; she tried to tell herself that she must have misheard the man, but then he said it again. This time with more conviction. Her breathing slowed down as she heard another cop berate her comrade for making such a remark.


    Shit.


    "Dr. Farris, is everything alright?"


    Jackie snapped out of her trance and peered up at the concerned officer. "Yeah¡­" she whispered, and then more convincingly, "Yeah, I''m good. It''s just¡­ you know.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°This is a bit overwhelming, even for me."


    "No kidding." Lopez stopped and looked beyond Jackie. "Oh, great," he announced, visibly relieved. "They''re here."


    Jackie looked behind her and saw the two homicide detectives, Marcus Robinson and Teresa Yuma, standing in the doorway with more back up. She stood up when Robinson reached her. "Detective Robinson, nice to see you... and Detective Yuma, again."


    "Dr. Farris," Robinson greeted, giving the woman in front of him a small smile. His dark brown eyes were friendly as usual but laced with fatigue. He must be working a double for the fourth time this week.


    Yuma barely acknowledged Jackie as she directed more officers around the crime scene. But when she caught Jackie''s eyes, she nodded at the other woman. Jackie just waved, not expecting much else from the detective. Their relationship had always been complicated.


    Robinson walked around the medical examiner to further inspect the body. He stopped a couple of feet of it, right beyond the yellow take and stared at it, horrified. He removed his hat and held it to his chest. "Christ," he breathed.


    "I know," Jackie mumbled, moving around the pieces, searching for more distinctive markings.


    Yuma soon came up behind Robinson, and based on the dismayed expression on her face, she shared the sentiment. She cleared her throat and asked, "What do you got so far?"


    "She knew the killer. I think. There were no signs of struggle, not around the room, not on her¡ªI don''t think." Jackie hated sounding so indecisive. "Oh, there is something you should see." She bent down and pointed at the nape of the victim''s neck. "What do you say?"


    The detectives knelt down on opposite sides of the doctor, peered at the mark, then at each other, and then back down.


    "A bite mark," Yuma simply stated moments later. "Where do you think it came from?"


    Jackie examined the bite further. It couldn''t have been done by a dog. It was far too small and far too clean. "I¡­ don''t know. At first, I thought it was an animal, but¡­"


    "You think someone bit her," Robinson finished. "A person."


    Jackie nodded, but doubt was still in her mind. The skin had been punctured by something sharper than human teeth. Perhaps by fangs. "Yeah, a person."


    Robinson turned to his partner. "Human or¡­?"


    "Or?" Jackie''s eyes shifted from detective to detective. "What other kind of person is there?"


    "Human." Yuma directed a glare at her partner. "Only human."


    "Yeah, human."


    Jackie watched the exchange, suspicious of the detectives'' invasive behavior. Robinson sounded unconvinced. Yuma sounded downright annoyed. It was too suspicious, but Jackie chose to remain quiet. The questioning could wait for a time when she wasn''t kneeling next to a dismembered body.


    Robinson ran a hand down his face and groaned. "I just can''t believe¡ªFirst case since the Transfer and I gotta deal with a goddamn sadist. Jackie,Dr. Farris, when can we get some results?"


    Jackie took a glimpse at the victim. She couldn''t provide an accurate timetable. But it should be soon. Although she did have a string of cadavers waiting to be inspected, this case was going to be a high-profile one. It would have priority. "Tomorrow," she decided. "I should be able to provide, at the very least, the estimated time of death."


    "The full autopsy needs to be done ASAP," Yuma said, crossing her arms.


    Jackie gave the detective a look. "Of course."


    Another cop rushed into the bedroom to announce: "The press is here!"


    Yuma cursed under her breath and announced that she would be heading to the lobby to meet any reports before they caused any more havoc. Robinson chose to stay behind.


    "That didn''t take long," Jackie remarked, standing up. Less than an hour ago, it seemed that no one had noticed the crime. She quickly disposed of her gloves, pulled out a work-approved camera and began taking pictures of the body. "That really didn''t take long at all."


    "I''m sure a guest or two reached out to them," Robinson said, becoming annoyed. He was not in the mood to participate in an impromptu press conference. His captain would bust a nerve. "And I''m sure the increasing police presence outside isn''t helping¡­"


    "I''ll say."


    Jackie put away her camera.


    For now, her job was done.

 January 17th

    January 17th


    "You know, this sounds like a classic case of retaliation."


    Detective Marcus Robinson glanced up at his partner before taking a bite out of his lunch. "Yeah, I know," he replied beforewiping off the grease from the overloaded beef sandwich with the back of his hand and ignoring his partner¡¯s disgusted groan.


    "It''s most likely gang-related. Maybe cartels," Detective Teresa Yuma carried on, playing with her salad. It looked completely unappetizing, but she promised herself to maintain a healthy diet. She wasn''t like Marcus; she couldn''t down two greasy, meaty sandwiches and still look in shape. "You know how much theyloveto be creative with their victims."


    She soon gave up on the salad, leaned back in her chair and stared at her partner. "You knowwhois probably involved. Dr. Farris had informed me earlier about hearing some of our fellow comrades talking about them. Interesting, isn''t it?"


    "You can say that."


    "So, what are we going to do about it?"


    Marcus shrugged. "I don''t know¡­" he admitted. "I don''t know."


    Their captain hadn''t provided much direction. All he said told them was that he supported them one hundred percent and that they needed to dedicate all their attention on the Suite Girl case¡ªThe Suite Girl. The poor victim had only been dead for a little over a day, and the press had already given her a nickname.


    At least, the detectives had an actual name:Tiffany Tomlinson. Aged 24. From the Parkena neighborhood of Malikan City¡ªa decent-enough neighborhood full of decent-enough people. She was a part-time student at a local community college. She had been arrested twice for disorderly conduct and it was with her fingerprints that she was able to be identified.


    The detectives couldn''t really do much until they received preliminary findings from Dr. Swan and her team. All they knew was that they were dealing with someone who might have known the victim.


    "We should notify the alphabet boys. Get the special gang unit involved. I''m sure Manuel will have a field day."


    Marcus shook his head. The alphabet boys. The federal law enforcement agencies. The bane, and at times, the savior of the Malikan City police department''s existence. He was honestly surprised they hadn''t come knocking on his captain''s door already¡ªthe Suite Girl case was a major one and it had mob-hit all over it.


    "No can do. We don''t have enough information at this point to get them involved¡­ yet. Besides, Manuel''s people aren''t allowed to get involved in any Volturi and crew-related drama¡ªyou know that."


    Marcus knew the basis of Teresa''s assumptions. Jackie had shown them a series of marks on Tiffany''s arms that resembled the signature of the Volturi. But Marcus hoped and prayed that it was only a copy-cat. He could handle copy-cats. Most of them were just attention-seeking fools with no life. Those cases were usually cut-and-dry. Easy to arrest. Easy to prosecute. Easy to sentence.


    Easy to move on from.


    He had hope, and he was sticking to it.


    So was his captain.


    Teresa wasn''t satisfied with Marcus'' answer but didn''t press the issue. Instead, she pushed aside her salad and put her on her coat. Teresa reached for her wool hat on the booth seat, and put it on, pushing her of her dark brown curls underneath. They needed to get out of here.


    "So, about those hotel tapes¡­"


    Marcus groaned. There were tapes, apparently. The hotel cameras had been conveniently disabled on the night of the murder because of a "short circuit." Other than grilling the hotel staff yet again, there was no real way that the detectives could uncover who had been in the hotel with the victim.


    To top it off, because it seemed that nothing in this case was going to be easy, the hotel room, the scene of the crime, had been paid fully in cash, and therefore, no credit card information been obtained.Apparently¡ªsomething Marcus had to investigate because card information was almost always obtained upon checking in because of incidentals. To make matters even worse, the murder room had been under the victim''s name. No one else was on record. Only Tiffany Tomlinson.


    Of course.


    "Captain''s sending another team to the scene to gather more information since the hotel staff is obviously useless. For the time being, it looks like we gotta look into our best lead."


    Teresa nodded and retrieveda piece of paper from her coat pocket. On it contained the names of a couple of Tiffany''s friends. Not family¡ªapparently, Tiffany had no immediate family on record. Thanks to social media, Marcus and Teresa were able to narrow down a list of friends who might have had contact with Tiffany on the night of her murder


    ***


    "Did they really have to cut her up?"


    Jackie remained tight-lipped as she skimmed through her newest victim''s numerous medical reports. The past thirty-six hours inside the Office of the Medical Examiner, right outside of downtown Malikan City, had been frustrating. As expected, the victim found in the hotel room became the morgue''s main priority. Everyone was all over this case and demanded that Jackie gave them answers. But it was frustrating because the victim''s body was not revealing much. She had a feeling about the cause of death, but she needed to prove it.


    "No, not really. But I''m sure whoever did this wanted to send a message," Jackie said moments later, now specifically eyeing the toxicology report. She looked up at her partner, her assistant, Dr. Vincent Tran, a newly-hired doctor, fresh out of medical school. He was approaching thirty, but at times, he behaved like a teenager. But he was a sweetheart and was reliable, so Jackie couldn''t complain. "The lacerations were made after death."


    "Then she died a less painful death initially assumed. That''s nice to know, I guess¡ªbut it''s such a damn shame, isn''t it? It''s been a more than a day and we still haven''t received a visit from a loved one."


    "They just released the name last night," Jackie argued. The police had released the name to the public less than a day after discovering her. "They probably don''t know she''s dead. Ithasonly been a day."


    "In this time and day, with social media?" Vince glanced at the victim. "She looks like she would have been into social media."


    "Generalizing much?"


    "She''s in her twenties. She has to have an account somewhere."


    "Was," Jackie corrected. "And not every twenty-something-year-old uses Instagram or Twitter."


    Vince shrugged.


    Jackie continued to closely examine the last test. "I don''t understand¡­" she muttered, puzzled. She read the report again, thinking,hoping, that perhaps she had missed something. "The toxicology test came back negative. No drugs. Low alcohol level, but not enough to poison¡ª No poison. No anything."


    "But I thought we determined that she died from the bite?"


    "She did. I''m almost certain that it had to be from some kind of poison, but there''s nothing here."


    "That doesn''t make sense. The only conceivable way someone could die from a bite is if there was venom or she bled to death, which we already ruled out."


    "No traces of a blood clot or a hemorrhage," Jackie said, handing Vince the report. Venom was dangerous because it could cause blood clots, but of course, Tiffany''s body did not show any signs of such an event. "No traces of venom or drugs¡ª not even aspirin..."


    Vince skimmed the report. "Some super powerful bacteria that no one knows about?" he suggested.


    "Whatever it is, it killed her in seconds. I''m thinking cardiac arrest."


    "What about vampires?"


    Jackie glared at the other doctor hard enough for him to shudder. "Dr. Vincent Tran, this is neither the time nor the place for your jokes."


    "I''m not joking," Vince insisted. It sounded a bit ridiculous, even he had to admit, but he had encountered stranger things. "It''s a documented fact that vampires bites can kill a person in a blink of an eye."


    "Vince, vampires do not exist," Jackie sternly reminded the other doctor, not believing that he honestly believed in vampires.Vampires only existed in movies and legends, not in real life, she thought as she put on a new pair of gloves. The lack of explanation meant that she was going to have to conduct yet another test. "Are we honestly having this conversation?"


    "It''s a perfectly plausible one."


    "We''re in the real world, Vince, not in some Dracula movie with werewolves or some other foolishness," Jackie reminded her partner. She put the pile of reports down on the table near her and went over to the body. She removed the sheet covering the woman and scanned her to see if she had missed anything.


    "I''ve heard rumors that they exist,too."


    "Where are you hearing these things?"


    "From the¡ª" Vince stopped and stared Tiffany through narrowed eyes. Something had caught his eye. He went around to the other side of the table, stopped and studied an arm for a moment. "This mark on the insider of her wrist, how did we not catch that before?"


    "A tattoo?"


    Vince nodded. "Yeah, something like that." He reached over for his camera and snapped a photo. "This might help the investigation.AD?" he read. "What do you think that stands for?"


    A brand, Jackie immediately thought, but she didn''t say anything out loud. She didn''t want to think about that possibility. A brand on the body often referenced to some connection with slavery. She asked Vince to hold up the arm, so she could further examine the mark.


    "Vince?"


    "Yeah?"


    "Call Marcus and Teresa and tell them to come here ASAP."


    ****


    The interview with Tiffany Tomlinson''s friends scheduled for four in the afternoon at a location right outside of Malikan Community College. Detective Robinson and Yuma had certainly lucked out with both friends¡ªPatty DiCarlo and Evan Martinez. Both were eager to talk. Both were dedicated to finding their friend''s murderer. Both weren''t panicking, just cool, calm and collected as they faced the detectives.


    Relatively-speaking.


    "I cannot believe she''s dead," Patty cried, still visibly shaken by the news. She had never thought that in a million years she would personally know a murder victim, especially one had been killed in such a gruesome manner. "She was such a sweet girl, had everything going for her. She didn''t have any problems with anyone. Everyone adored her.How could this have happened?"


    Evan took Patty''s hand into his in attempt to comfort her. He shared his friend''s sentiment, but he knew they wouldn''t get far if they let the grief overcome them.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Teresa tried to remain sympathetic, but Patty''s statement was so clich¨¦d that all the detective wanted to do was roll her eyes. According to families and friends, basically every murder victim was a nice, decent person who had no enemies.


    "I''m sorry for your loss," Marcus genuinely said, pulling out a pen and a notepad. Teresa did so as well. "We will do everything in our power to find the person responsible for your friend''s death. Again, thank you so much for meeting with us at such a short notice."


    "It''s no problem," Patty said with a bittersweet smile.


    "We''re just happy to help out the investigation," Evan added.


    "When was the last time you''ve both seen Tiffany?" Teresa asked.


    "That afternoon. We all had lunch together," Evan said, and then continued after Patty gave an affirmative nod. "That day was her birthday. We were all gonna celebrate together, but Tiffany said she already had plans."


    "What kind of plans?" Marcus asked.


    "She didn''t say," Evan quietly replied, flashing back to that very conversation. "She only mentioned that she would meet up with us the next day to go to the Dragons'' game. And that she''d let us know when to pick her up."


    "Did she ever contact you both after that?" Marcus asked.


    "No. That was the last time we''ve both heard from her."


    Marcus nodded as he wrote the information down. "So, at the time we''d reached out to you yesterday, did you both already know what had happened to her?"


    "No," Patty finally replied, glancing at Evan. Evan didn''t mean her gaze. "We only learned about her murder from the news."


    "You haven''t seen her for two days¡­" Teresa started. "And you both were supposed to meet up with her to go to a hockey game; did you not find it a bit odd that you couldn''t reach her?"


    Marcus subtly nudged Teresa with an elbow, warning her to stay on course. They were not here to interrogate. "You had mentioned over the phone that during those two days that you were worried about her¡ª" The students nodded then Marcus continued, "Where did you both realize something was off?"


    "When she didn''t show up for Computer class," Patty replied. She glanced at Evan was affirmation. The man nodded. "She never misses that class. Ever¡ª" she dropped her voice. "She kinda had a thing for the professor."


    "And when did you realize that something had to bewrong?"


    "We never did, really¡­" Patty admitted, feeling guilty. "We didn''t really suspect anything until we heard about the murder. I wish we had noticed earlier; we would have gone to the police."


    "So, you didn''t file or attempt to file a missing person''s report?"


    "We were gonna," Evan answered for Patty. "But we just thought that Tiff was only doing her famous disappearing act again."


    "Disappearing act?"


    "Yeah, about every two weeks, she would drop off the face of the earth for a couple of days. It was usually on the weekend, especially during long holiday weekends."


    "We could never get a hold of her during her trips," Patty added. "No calls. No texts. Nothing. It''s like she had disappeared."


    "Did she ever mention anything about the purpose of these trips?"


    "Not to me."


    "Same for me. In the beginning, she would say that she was staying with some friends from high school or work¡ªpeople we didn''t know," Evan continued.


    "How long has this been going on?"


    Evan and Patty shared a look.


    "Maybe¡­ a year, a year and a half," Patty replied. "She would go on these trips to random, exotic places. Last month, she went to Bora Bora, Bali, ParisandAbu Dhabi... I used to think she was she was so lucky."


    "So, you had reasons to believe that on the night of her death, Tiffany was on one of her trips?" Teresa wanted to clarify before jotting the information down.


    "Yes. If we didn''t think that, we would have definitely called the police," Patty insisted. "She''s¡­ was our friend. We wouldn''t want anything bad to happen to her."


    After spending another ten minutes questioning the pair, the detectives, namely Marcus, decided that for the time being, there was no other relevant information the two friends could give them. When Teresa finished her last question, Marcus pulled out two of their business cards and handed one to each student. "Thank you for your cooperation. You have both been a big help. We''ll keep in touch."


    As soon as the two college students said their goodbyes and went on their way, Marcus leaned over and whispered to his partner, "Something''s telling me that our victim was living a double life."


    "Something tells me you may be right," Teresa whispered back. "And sorry about earlier. I didn''t mean to grill them like that. You know, I''m just to¡ª"


    Marcus squeezed Teresa''s shoulder. "You don''t need to apologize. You''re just doing your job. A great job."


    Teresa gave him an honest smile. It was a rare sight to see given her usually serious demeanor. But it was a lovely one. "Thank you."


    Marcus returned the smile. A couple of weeks ago, he had been visibly annoyed when he was assigned to be Teresa''s partner following his transfer. Teresa was one of the brightest detectives in the entire police force, but she also had a reputation of being intimidating and difficult. (Marcus didn''t think the title was quite fair; any sane person would be pissed off upon discovering their spouse, a fellow detective, slippinginsideof their cousin.)


    But he was growing to like Teresa. She was a hard-ass and a smart one, at that. A wolf¡ªsomething that any detective in this city needed to be if they wanted to survive in this city. she knew the truth about the people in this city, in this country, in this world. Different people. People who wouldn''t be called humans if the alphabet agencies decided to pay more attention and classify them.


    "So, where to next?" Teresa asked as she got into their car.


    Marcus followed suit, put on his seat belt and insert his key in the ignition, turning it on. ¡°First, we gotta get a round of coffee. I think we all need some caffeine right about now. Then, we¡¯ll visit the morgue, see how¡¯s Jackie¡¯s doing.¡±


    ***


    "Please, tell me you have some good news," Teresa announced, walking through the double doors of the Jackie''s lab a couple of hours later. She glanced at the wall clock: 6:00pm.


    "This may be your lucky day,¡± Jackie said. ¡°Hey, where''s Marcus?¡±


    "Getting the coffee. What''s new?"


    Jackie approached Teresa and handed over her notepad.


    "Thank you for the fingerprints¡ªor what was left of them," Teresa said, after reading over the pages. The gratefulness in her tone made Jackie smile a bit. She hoped that maybe this was a sign that their relationship was improving. "We were able to find a match. The press is somewhat satisfied."


    "Oh, yes, Tiffany Tomlinson from Lincoln Park," Vince said, nodding. "Hey, anything about her occupation?"


    "Part-time student at MCCC and apparently, a waitress at a local diner."


    "Good late afternoon, everyone," Marcus announced as he walked into the lab.


    Jackie smiled at the sight of her friend bringing two cups of coffee. She had needed one¡ª perhaps something much stronger, but that was for a later time, when she wasn¡¯t on the clock. She accepted a cup with much gratitude and put it aside. "Marcus, you are a goddamn godsend."


    "I try."


    "Thanks, man," Vince said when Marcus handed him his coffee.


    Marcus approached the victim''s body and stared at it. It was covered by a white sheet, but he could still see where the body had been cut. "Okay, so what we got?"


    "We have determined that our victim died from cardiac arrest, induced by the bite on her neck." Jackie pointed to the mark. "Unfortunately, we still do not knowhowit happened. There are no traces of venom and we were unable to isolate any foreign DNA."


    "She must have died from something," Teresa said.


    "Obviously, but¡ªwe plan to run more tests. It''s going to be on the pricey side and my supervisor isn''t going to be thrilled, but we don''t have any other choice. I''ve never seen anything like this before."


    "And the dismemberment?"


    "Post-mortem. Done with a saw, not a machete like we initially assumed," Jackie answered. "She died very quickly and without much struggle. Perhaps that was the reason no one noticed anything until the maid came in."


    "Bodily fluids from anyone else?" Marcus added. "You know, just in case."


    Jackie shook her head. "Non-existent, but we do know it was a crime of passion. Normal murderers, if there is such a thing, don''t do this with a dead body. Obviously, whoever did this is trying to send a message."


    Marcus ran a hand through his short hair. "Yeah, we''re still trying to figure out to whom."


    "There''s also something else I''d like to show you. We found something on the inside of Tiffany''s wrist that may be of some interest." Jackie walked alongside the body until she reached the area where the severed arm lay. She lifted the sheet. The detectives stepped closer for a better look. "Do you have any idea what these letters stand for?"


    Neither detective said a word.


    Jackie found the silence disturbing. Disturbing enough for her to think that her initial assumption regarding the tattoo was correct. About twenty seconds passed before Marcus finally spoke up.


    "Atkins-Dalca," he breathed, staring at the mark with a look Jackie had never seen before. It scared her. "It stands for Atkins-Dalca."


    Jackie and Vince exchanged curious looks.


    Teresa didn''t look surprised. Resigned, but not surprised. She took her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialed a number. "I told you it was retaliation."


    *******


    "Dr. Farris, I''m sorry to interrupt you, but there''s a man waiting to see you. It seems urgent."


    Jackie grumbled as she stopped drawing blood from Tiffany¡¯s forearm. This was the umpteenth time she had been interrupted as she attempted to perform yet another blood test. "Do I know him?" she inquired, glancing at the clock. Eight-ten in the evening. In two hours, she would have to leave.


    "Never seen him before," the receptionist said, pointedly glancing behind¡ªshe was looking out for someone? Jackie didn''t know, but she did find her behavior a bit peculiar. "But he''s really cute," she added with a wink.


    Jackie playfully rolled her eyes at the often boy-crazy receptionist. "Tell him¡ª" She stopped, glancing down at Tiffany. She was still in the middle of testing itagain, but the receptionist seemed adamant about her coming with her. Jackie let out of a defeated sigh. The test would just have to wait.


    "Tell him I''m coming," Jackie finally said. She carefully placed her tools down and moved to cover the body in a way that would be left undisturbed for the time being. She left a note for Vince, who was scheduled to return from his break soon to start the overnight shift, so he could continue the tests. "You know what? I''ll just go back with you."


    Jackie quickly removed her smock and gloves and disposed of them before following the receptionist into the waiting room.


    The walk felt unusually long, but Jackie decided that it had less to do with the distance and more to do with the fact that she was downright exhausted. When they finally reached the waiting area, the receptionist gestured towards the only man there, implying that he was the one Jackie should see. Jackie thanked her co-worker and headed over to the row of seats that was occupied by him alone. The closet she got to him, the more she had to admit that he was really easy on the eyes. The suit he wore fit him perfectly¡ª


    Jackie shook her head; this wasn''t the time for this.


    When she finally reached him, Jackie gave the man a forced smile. "Good evening," she said, taking a step back as the man rose from his seat. He smiled back at her. "My name is Dr. Farris. I believe you wanted to speak to me?"


    "Ah, yes, I did." The man stood up and firmly shook Jackie''s extended hand firmly. "I do apologize for being here so late."


    "It''s really no problem," Jackie replied, pulling back her shivering hand. The man seemed polite, but there was something about him, his aura, that unnerved Jackie. Like there was something sinister lying underneath his calm, polite demeanor. And those hands... they were socold. "So, Mr...?"


    "Gus. Gus DuPont."


    The man introduced himself as if he expected her to know him, but Jackie couldn''t recall the name. She could not recall anything concerning him. She gave him a small smile response. "Mr. DuPont, how can I assist you?"


    "If it''s not an issue, can we please continue this conversation elsewhere?" the man requested. "For confidentiality purposes?"


    Jackie forced a smile. She supposed the request was understandable. There might not have any visitors in the waiting area, but the office was still bustling with employees. "Of course. Follow me."


    ***


    "I do apologize for interrupting," Gus said as soon as he and Jackie entered her office. "I wasn''t sure if you only met with visitors through appointments."


    "It''s fine," Jackie insisted. "So, Mr. DuPont," she began as she settled into her desk chair. She motioned for Gus to sit down across from her, but he insisted on standing. "What can I help you with?"


    "I was wondering if I can put in a request concerning one of the unfortunate souls you have to work on."


    "A request?"


    Jackie wondered for a brief moment if the man was a family member or the spouse of a victim. Some people weren''t too fond of the thought of someone cutting up their loved one''s body, even if it was for a good cause. In some cases, she would have to get consent from them to even start an autopsy.


    This wasn''t one of those cases.


    "Yes, a request,¡± Gus said. "I believe that you are performing an autopsy on a young woman who was found mutilated several days ago? I ask for you not to perform the autopsy."


    "How did you¡ª" Jackie quickly closed her mouth. "I apologize, but I cannot accept your request."


    Judging from the look on Gus''s face, he wasn''t satisfied with her answer, but Jackie honestly couldn''t understand why he would think that she would agree to it. What he wanted was downright illegal, and if she ever wanted to become the Chief Medical Examiner, she had to do things therightway.


    "That''s not what I want to hear."


    "I''m sorry, but I don''t have the authority to do so."


    "You can''t just stop it? You can''t just determine the cause of death to be inconclusive?"


    "I don''t have the authority to do so," Jackie repeated, more sternly this time. "Furthermore, what you are asking me to do is lie, and I''m not¡ª"


    "Name the price."


    "Excuseme?"


    "Name the price."


    Jackie shook her head, in disbelief. She had never encountered someone who wanted to bribe her into willfully not doing her job. "I cannot jeopardize my career and my reputation for this."


    "Do you find the job of medical examiner dangerous?"


    Jackie frowned when she noticed that he had completely disregarded her question. She didn''t understand why, but she decided to answer him. "I do not understand how that¡¯s a relevant question.."


    Gus stared at her for a moment then nodded. "I read about you in the paper. A few years ago, weren''t you the coroner that got caught in the cross hairs of a¡ª"


    "Mafia war?" Jackie finished, wondering where Gus was heading with this. She would appreciate if it he¡ªor anyone, in that matter¡ªdidn''t mention that incident to her face ever again.


    "The mafia does not exist in this country," Gus calmly corrected.


    "Look, perhaps you should be talking to the police about this issue. They will be able to help you out far more than I ever can."


    "I respectfully ask for the police not to be involved," Gus responded seriously.


    Sure," Jackie said, not promising anything. But from the way the man was looking at her, she didn''t think that saying otherwise would help her in any way.


    "Really?"


    Jackie shook her head and shrugged. ¡°Why not?¡±


    She was lying, and the man in front of her knew it. But he didn¡¯t appear to take any offense. It was quite the opposite. Amused, as evident by his laugh. "You''re tough,¡± he remarked, nodding. ¡°I''ll give you that. But I assure you, you don''t want to be involved in a mess that you can''t understand, that you can''t handle, again¡ª do you?"


    "If you want to stop this autopsy from continuing,¡± Jackie carefully laid out, ¡°Then I highly suggest you get an injunction from the court."


    Gus did not immediately respond. Instead, he stared at Jackie with an intense look in his eye. But before she could break under his gaze, Gus just stood up. "Very well, he said, "Thank you, Dr. Farris, for your time. I hope you have a nice, safe night."

 January 19th

    January 19th


    January 19th


    One of the most infamous, well-known citizens of Malikan City was Tommy Greco. As the owner of one of the hottest casinos in the county, Tommy had his fair share of interactions with those from both sides of the law. He prided himself as being a negotiator. The peace maker. The man who tried, to a point, to solidify the line between the general public andeveryone else.


    With his slicked-back black hair, sun-tanned skin, his gold Rolex on each wrist, with his neatly tailored, but gaudy suit, and of course, expensive shades, Tommy Greco, approaching forty, looked like the stereotypical, sleazy casino owner with an obvious connection to the mob.


    Hedidhave some connections with the mob. He was what people on the streets called a Swiss player. He knew everyone but didn¡¯t explicitly affiliate with anyone. He didn¡¯t take sides. He only sat back while the fighting continued and offered any help to both sides. Everyone knew he had a complicated relationship with the cops, and that his casino had a strict non-partisan policy.


    It was at his casino, located in the theater district of Malikan City, where Marcus and Teresa went to around ten in the morning, following a pit stop at the Suite Girl crime scene. The visit as announced as evident by the look of horror and irritation on Tommy¡¯s face when he caught sight of them walking into his casino, flashing their badges and heading up to his office.


    Tommy cursed when he heard one of his guards knocking the door, indicating that he had a visitor. He considered turning the detectives away, but then rationality kicked in. Marcus and Teresa were usually annoyed by him and his ways, but they didn¡¯t hate him, and he would like to keep it that way.


    ¡°Look, if you¡¯re here about that lady who got chopped up at the Grand Marquis, thenyou''re wasting your time,¡± Tommy said the moment the detectives walked inside his precious office. ¡°I ain¡¯t got anything to do with that.¡±


    ¡°Goodness, Tommy, how many times have you been arrested?¡± Teresa asked, shaking her head. ¡°Don¡¯t you know those are some seriously incriminating words?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying. I hear from my sources that you two are oncase, so I would just like to point that I don¡¯t murder people like that.¡±


    Teresa snorted. ¡°Are you implying that you¡¯ve murdered people before?¡±


    Tommy sputtered. ¡°You know what I mean¡­¡±


    ¡°Calm,down Tommy, we ain¡¯t here to arrest you. We just want to talk.¡± Marcus said. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve done something you weren''t supposed to.¡±


    ¡°What did you do?"


    "Didn''t you just hear me?" Tommy practically shrieked. "Nothing! I swear."


    Marcus gave the man a look and sat down one of the chairs in front of Tommy¡¯s desk. Teresa followed suit, after ordering Tommy to sit down as well. Tommy grudgingly complied.


    After taking a series of controlled breaths, Tommy brought out a box full of top-notch cigars and placed in on his desk. He needed one, badly. Tommy opened the lid of the cigar box. ¡°You want one?¡±


    Teresa shook her head.


    Marcus declined. The offer was tempting, but it would be just his luck that his people would discover that he accepted a most-likely contraband cigar from a known mob-confidant.


    Tommy shrugged, pulled one out and lit it. ¡°Okay, so, what do you want?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, we¡¯re not here about the murder,¡± Marcus said. ¡°Not exactly. I know you got eyes all over this city, so start talking.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°Albanisi.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°See, Teresa, told you we should stop here.¡± Marcus chuckled at Teresa¡¯s half-heartened glare. ¡°Yeah, the Albanisi. C¡¯mon spill.¡±


    Tommy groaned. ¡°C¡¯mon, Marcus¡­¡±


    Teresa was getting tired of the casino owner¡¯s stalling. ¡°It would be in your best interests to start talking,Greco,¡± she suggested.


    Tommy groaned again, realizing that he wasn¡¯t going to get out of this conversation anytime soon. ¡°Okay, okay. The Albanisi... they¡¯re just being the Albanisi¡ªyou know how it is.¡± He leaned over his desk and lowered his voice. ¡°Word on the street is that they¡¯re going head-to-head in the blood trade with the Atkins¡¯ and their allies. They want control of the northern route.¡±


    Marcus raised an eyebrow. The northern route stemmed from northwest Malikan City, up north through four provinces before stopping just past Canada, the closest bordering country. ¡°The Atkins''? I was under the impression that they only did business out west?¡±


    ¡°Well, somehow, someway, they¡¯re here, and now, everyone''s collectively losing their shit."


    The detectives exchanged looks. Northwest Malikan City was known for being one of the quieter areas. Manuel Yuma, the captain one of the more specialized gang units in that region, hadn¡¯t mentioned anything about the increasing violence.


    But then a realization came to Teresa, ¡°Hold up, that region was controlled by the Kazan gang. Had been for years¡ª¡°


    ¡°Yeah, until a week ago. The head of that crew disappeared to fuck-knows-where, and since there¡¯s now a power vacuum, that area¡¯s fair game.¡±


    ¡°For what: drugs, guns, blood, trafficking¡­?¡±


    ¡°Everything.¡±


    ¡°So, which alphabet agency is up their asses? DEA? ATF, FBI?¡± Marcus asked. ¡°I know there has to be presence along the northern route.¡±


    ¡°The FBI¡¯s been pretty quiet, but you know that¡¯s gonna change soon. There¡¯s some DEA action up north, near the Wint border. There¡¯s this little war¡¯s spilling over out east into Eastland, of all places¡ªinto The Gentle Boss, Mbassi, territory¡ªthe ATF¡¯S all over that.¡±


    ¡°I thought Abegunde Mbassi was dead?¡± Teresa asked.


    ¡°He is, but now is brother, Sefu, is running the show,¡± Tommy said. He shuddered. ¡°And boy, that man¡¯s atrip. They call him theMadman. He makes them cartels look like fucking pansies. No one¡¯s crossing him, not even the Albanisi.¡±


    Marcus leaned back and shook his head. Goodness, Manuel was going to be a very busy man, very soon. Maybe Teresa was right; maybe they might need to partner up with the FBI. ¡°Does Mbassi have a strong hold in this city?¡±


    Tommy shook his head. ¡°Haven¡¯t heard anything about that.¡±


    ¡°Okay, back to the Atkins, I need names.¡±


    Tommy snorted. ¡°Oh, come on, you know they don''t go by their real names. Even their nicknames change every other year¡ª¡°


    ¡°So, you¡¯re telling us that you don¡¯t know who they are?¡± Marcus asked. This was Tommy Greco, a man with questionable morals and the ability to obtain information that not even the damn Federal Bureau of Investigation could get their hands on. "You?"


    ¡°I mean, I may have heard of them, but like I said, they change their identities all the time,¡± Tommy explained. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve never seen them in person. Only over the phone and shit. See, the Atkins¡¯ ain''t flashy like the Dalca¡¯s. They like to lay low... real low. Low enough for me not to know their actual identities. Except for the boss; everyone knows the boss."


    "Who''s the boss?" Marcus asked.


    Tommy snorted, surprised. "You don''t know the boss?"


    "Tommy¡­" Teresa growled.


    Tommy threw his hands in self-defense. ¡°Okay, calm down. No need to growl at me. The name¡¯sJohnEzequiel Atkins, but he goes by name ofCaesar. You know, like Julius Caesar.¡±


    Marcus blinked. ¡°Wasn¡¯t he a tutor somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Former professor of philosophy,¡± Tommy said. ¡°Now, how did he manage to become a boss fromthat? I have no fucking clue, but he¡¯s now running the entire operation. You know that blood-drug bust by the DEA last year? The one where they found a few dead bodies filled with bags of bloodandorgans? That wasallhim. He managed to send out ten shipments before the feds got on his ass. Did only one year in Arizona.¡±


    Oh, Marcus had heard of that story alright. The deputy superintendent, whose son works for the Drug Enforcement Agency, had been ranting about it. This Atkins guy got off easy because of he was the client of silver-tongue queen of all fixers, Regina D¡¯Agostino.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not in the gang unit,¡± Marcus muttered under his breath, and then asked in a louder voice, ¡°This squabble over the northern route, is only about the contraband trade, or does it have something to do with the never about the never-ending coven drama?¡±


    ¡°Covens?¡± Tommy nervously shifted in his seat and swallowed. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb, Tommy,¡± Marcus warned. ¡°You know exactly what I¡¯m talking about.¡±


    ¡°Look, man, I¡¯m telling the truth. I don¡¯t know nothing about covens.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re using a double-negative,¡± Teresa pointed out, earning a glare from the casino owner. ¡°So, I assume that you do.¡±


    ¡°Which one is it, Tommy?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Tommy exclaimed, flailing his arms. He really didn¡¯t want to continue this conversation. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s both. I honestly don¡¯t knowanythingabout covens or vampires. They don¡¯t talk about that stuff around me.¡±


    ¡°But you do know something about it, so that means they must¡¯ve mentioned something around you.¡±


    ¡°Okay, yeah, but only in passing,¡± Tommy admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t do the supernatural. I have a hard-enough time dealing withhumans. I don¡¯t need to start anything with vampires or fairies or fucking people who can turn into wolves¡­¡±


    ¡°Lycans,¡± Marcus corrected, trying not to chuckle at Tommy¡¯s dramatic behavior. ¡°They¡¯re called lycans.¡±


    ¡°Well, whatever they¡¯re called¡ªI don¡¯t mess with them either.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯msureyou do,¡± Marcus insisted. He smirked at the puzzled expression on Tommy¡¯s face. Was it childish of him? Maybe, but he loved messing with the man. He was hoping that Teresa had caught onto the reference, but judging by his partner¡¯s side-eye, he supposed she didn¡¯t appreciate it.


    Silence fell among them for a bit until Tommy interrupted it. ¡°Hey, so is this little talk over? Because I got a casino to run, among other things.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Marcus studied the man, but then broke out into a grin and stood up. ¡°Don¡¯t see why not. You¡¯ve given us some important info. Thanks for that.¡±


    ¡°We do appreciate yourcooperation,¡± Teresa added.


    ¡°Yeah, well, glad help,¡± Tommy uneasily replied. ¡°Glad to help.¡±


    Marcus snorted and headed towards the exit, but then stopped and turned around. ¡°What¡¯s your opinion about the Suite Girl murder?¡±


    Teresa gave her partner a confused look, wondering why would be asking Tommy such a question at this time. She remained silent.


    ¡°My opinion?¡± Tommy shrugged. ¡°I haven¡¯t looked that much into it, but¡­ normal people don¡¯t kill like that. That¡¯s some serial-killer, sicario, cartel-shit.¡±


    ¡°You think it¡¯s them?¡± Teresa asked.


    ¡°Who, the Albanisi?¡± Tommy asked. He shook his head when Teresa nodded. ¡°Nah, they¡¯re old-school. If they''d killed anyone, you wouldn¡¯t even know about it.¡±


    Marcus frowned. Tommy was absolutely right. That was part of the reason why the Albanisi family had been able to slip through both federal and municipal law enforcement for years.


    He nodded, checking the time on the clocking hanging on the wall adjacent to him. It was a good time to leave, anyway. After all, he and Teresa had to visit the roommate of Tiffany Tomlinson and see if she could provide some pertinent details for their investigation. ¡°Thank you, as always, for your help. Have a nice day and try to stay out of trouble.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, yeah¡­¡±


    ***


    Two hours after meeting with Tommy, the detectives arrived at the doorstep of Samantha ¡°Sam¡± Vaughn. The visit had been expected; the precinct had contacted the roommate of Tiffany Tomlinson earlier in the morning, hoping the woman had time for them and would cooperate. Sam had said she did but warned them that her roommate was known for providing limited information to everyone. There was only so much she could say.


    Teresa knocked on the door, and the detectives waited for Sam, or some other person, to answer it. They didn¡¯t have to wait long, and after introducing themselves and presenting their badges, the front door to the apartment creaked opened, revealing a young woman. About twenty-four, twenty-five. Standing about five feet two, a little on the chubby side. Cute lady, with curly red hair and freckles. Didn''t look like she would have anything to do with a sordid murder¡ªbut Marcus couldn''t think like that. Based on his many years of experience dealing with criminals, he couldn''t judge anyone''s innocence on looks.


    ¡°Good afternoon, Miss Vaughn,¡± Marcus started. ¡°We apologize for this unexpected visit, but we were wondering if we can ask you a few questions.¡±


    Marcus could smell the anxiety rolling off Sam, but it wasn¡¯t anything he should be alarmed about. It was expected for people to be nervous around him and Teresa. The both of them, standing next to each other, looked like they belonged in some SWAT team. He, a man standing at six-four, far from thin, and Teresa, at five-ten, lean but deadly (and a terrific shooter), and a glare that could (had) intimidated the hardest of criminals.


    The detective gave the woman his patented-warm smile. He usually played the good cop with his friendly face, and Teresa usually played the bad one (although he had to remind her that they were doing some recon, not an interrogation). It worked for them, and it worked for the police force.


    ¡°I promise you, you¡¯re not getting arrested,¡± Marcus said, sensing Teresa straightening up next to him. ¡°We just want to ask you some questions about your roommate.¡±


    ¡°You mean Tiffany.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Teresa said. ¡°Tiffany Tomlinson.¡±


    ¡°Just questions.¡±.


    Sam¡¯s nerves dissipated a bit and allowed the detectives to walk inside. ¡°You can come in, I have nothing to hide.¡± She insisted. ¡°I have seen countless detective shows. I know the drill.¡± She stopped. ¡°Are you sure I don¡¯t need a lawyer?¡±


    ¡°Not unless you have a reason to,¡± Teresa said.


    Sam checked with Marcus. He winked, and she smiled, trying to suppress her blush.


    Teresa rolled her eyes at the exchange.


    Sam led them to the living room and offered the detectives to sit down in the sofa. She, herself, sat down on the love seat, opposite of the guests with only a small table between them. She was composed, still a little anxious, but composed. She looked around her living and let out a dramatic sigh.


    ¡°I feel terrible for not doing anything,¡± Sam whispered, eyes now downcast on her lap. She twiddled with her thumb and bit her bottomblood. ¡°I just can¡¯t believe she¡¯s dead¡­¡±


    ¡°How long have you known Tiffany?¡±


    ¡°Three years.¡±


    ¡°You two were close?¡±


    ¡°As close as roommates could be,¡± Sam said. ¡°I mean, we were friends. Sort of. But notbest friends.¡±


    ¡°When was the last time you saw her?¡±


    ¡°That morning. Right before I headed to work. She told me she didn¡¯t have to work that day, so she stayed behind. She was making some eggs when I left.¡±


    ¡°What time specifically?¡±


    ¡°A quarter to eight.¡±


    ¡°Did she mention anything about her plans for that day?¡±


    Sam shook her head, but then nodded. ¡°Oh¡­ she did mention that she was going to meet up with this guy. The name escapes me, but they were gonna meet in some bar downtown.¡±


    ¡°What time would that be?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know. Nighttime? Probably during happy hour?¡±


    ¡°Did she provide some details about this guy?¡±


    ¡°No, not all. All I know was that he was a hot, Eastern European guy, claiming to be an aspiring model.¡±


    Teresa nodded as she jotted down the notes. Aspiring model. So, the man had to be young and attractive. ¡°Did she have any other plans?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she was going to spend the night at a hotel.¡±


    ¡°When did she plan on coming back?¡¯


    ¡°The next morning,¡± Sam replied, definitively. ¡°She said she was spending the night downtown. She often books a room at Millionaire¡¯s. I guess she wanted to think she was rich or something.¡±


    ¡°By herself?¡± Marcus asked. So, that explained why the hotel room was under her name. A room that, on average, cost six hundred dollars a night. ¡°She books a room for herself?¡±


    Sam shrugged, sensing the detective¡¯s disbelief. ¡°Yeah, I know it sounds a bit weird, but this is Tiffany. She has uh¡­ a reputation for doing different things. I guess it was a birthday gift to herself or whatever. It was her birthday that day. Twenty-four.¡± She let out a dry, humorless scoff, and mumbled, ¡°Ain¡¯t that a bitch¡­¡±


    Sam watched as the detective communicated to each other through their eyes. She cleared her throat, and offered, ¡°I guess you¡¯d want to see her bedroom?¡±


    The detectives nodded. They didn¡¯t technically have a warrant; they were only here to ask questions, but since Sam had been the one to offer first, they could get away with it without getting yelled at by their captain. They both rose from their seats and followed Sam into the bedroom.


    The detectives paced around once they entered the room. It wasn¡¯t anything special. A medium-sized neat bedroom furnished by two beds, two dressers and two large closets with mirrored doors. Marcus focused on Tiffany¡¯s dresser as Teresa¡¯s approached Tiffany¡¯s closet. It was slightly opened.


    ¡°Do you mind?¡± Teresa asked Sam.


    Sam shrugged. ¡°Go right ahead.¡±


    Teresa carefully slid back the door and peered inside. It was a mess, full of clothes and shoes and books. Nothing looked odd. Nothing smelled too odd, and¡ªshe stopped, pulled out a tissue from her coat pocket, and bent down to pick up a pair of stilettos¡ªauthentic crystal Louboutin¡¯s. Although Teresa was far from a fashion connoisseur, she knew that those red-bottomed pumps had to, at least, cost several hundred dollars. She looked around and found a few more pairs.


    Louboutin¡¯s. Gucci. Fendi. Chanel. Yves Saint Laurent...


    ¡°Your roommate had quite the taste,¡± Teresa remarked.


    ¡°Yeah, she was a shopping-fanatic. She would only wear name-brands. Damn, there are things that cost more than people¡¯s salaries.¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking,¡± Marcus started. ¡°You both worked at the same diner, right?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°How much you get paid an hour?¡± Marcus asked. It was obviously suspicious that with no trust and horrible credit could be able to purchase an entire closet full of expensive merchandise. Or maybe she didn¡¯t buy them. Maybe they were gifts provided by a wealthy benefactor. Either way, it didn¡¯t look good.


    ¡°Um¡­ we¡¯re waitresses. It depends entirely on the day and the people,¡± Sam said, staring at the shoe, and then muttered under her breath, ¡°Not enough for afford those. that''s for sure.¡±


    Teresa put down the shoe and mouthed to her partner, ¡°We gotta get a warrant,¡± when Sam looked away. Marcus nodded in agreement.


    ¡°Did she have any other means?¡± Teresa asked.


    Sam hesitated to answer. ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure¡­¡± she quietly said, flinching under Teresa¡¯s suspicious gaze. ¡°I¡¯ve never asked her about her money. She paid half the bills with no problem, so I¡¯ve never bother. Maybe she had some long-lost rich relatives?¡± She paused to gather her thoughts. ¡°Or maybe¡­ now, this is gonna sound so bad because Tiffany was a great girl, but I think she was, you know, flaunting herself.¡±


    ¡°A stripper?¡± Marcus suggested.


    ¡°Prostitute?¡± Teresa offered.


    Sam quickly shook her head. ¡°No, no, that¡¯s not what I meant. It¡¯s just that¡­ I think she was a sugar baby, or something. I mean, that would explain the random exotic trips, and the clothes, the jewelry, right?¡±


    ¡°Jewelry?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yougottasee this.¡± Sam led the detectives to Tiffany¡¯s dresser and opened the top drawer. She pulled out a metal box. It was night, and no key in sight. ¡°I obviously can¡¯t open it, but I know she has stuff on here¡ªYou know that movie Titanic? And that necklace Rose wore?¡±


    ¡°The Heart of the Ocean,¡± Marcus quickly said, ignoring the amused look from Teresa. Yes, he had seen the movie more times he could count. He had a thing for disaster movies. And Kate Winslet. Sue him.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the one. She has one in here, just in here,¡± Sam said. ¡°But it¡¯s red. Ruby, maybe?¡± She held out the box for the detectives to take. ¡°Here. Take it. I have no use for it, especially since it belonged to a dead person. Not trying to get haunted, thank you.¡±


    Marcus declined and chided himself for not asking for a damn search warrant. He made a mental note to make sure he demanded one when he returned to the precinct. ¡°You can put it back. Thanks. We will definitely keep in touch.¡±


    ***


    January 20<sup>th</sup>


    Half past midnight, Tommy found himself staring through floor windows of his office in pure terror, instead of calling his chauffeur to drive him home, wondering what horrible deed he could have done to deserve this fate.


    Maybe he should have listened to his teachers and parents and invest in his schoolwork. Maybe he shouldn¡¯t have worked with the mob. Maybe he should have taken his probation and community seriously. Maybe he should have just lived an honest life.


    ¡°Artemisia¡­?¡± Tommy choked out. This was just not his week. First, he got a visit from the damn copes, and now, he had to deal with one of the most ruthless people he had ever encountered. ¡°Fuck my fucking life.¡±


    Those who had never met Artemisia would ever understand Tommy¡¯s fear of her. Yes, Artemisia looked like she had just graduated from high school. Yes, she was barely five feet tall. Yes, she looked like innocent with her slim build, blonde hair and wide hazel eyes. But looks could be definitely deceiving.


    For a brief hysterical moment, while watching Artemisia walk past the doorman and through the doors to his casino, Tommy considered calling the cops, but then realized that by the police rolled in, he would already be dead.


    "Artemisia!" Tommy exclaimed moments later, forcing a smile when Jane walked through the door to his office. He tried to hide his fear, but knowing Jane, she probably smelt that from miles away. "So, good to see you. Looking lovely, as usual."


    Remaining silent, Artemisia gave the casino owner a side-eye before sitting down. She hung her purse on the back of the chair and neatly folded her hands and legs, waiting for Tommy to make his next move.


    Tommy didn''t know what to do. He wanted to run away, but instead he gulped and walked out from behind his desk, rubbing his hands together, clearly nervous. "This is a surprise¡­ What can I help you with?"


    "We need to talk."


    Tommy swallowed. ¡°About?¡±


    ¡°Your recent interactions with the Malikan City Police Department.¡±


    Tommy nearly tripped his over his feet while talking behind his desk. He slowly sat down. ¡°I¡ªI don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Artemisia emitted frustrated sigh. ¡°Mr. Greco, I do not have the time nor the patience for any of your foolery.¡±


    Tommy slowly sat down in front of the woman, not taking his eyes off her. He feared that if he removed his gaze for even a second, she would end him before he could realize it. He took a couple of breaths while he played with his fingers. He knew there was no point lying to Artemisia; she was an interrogator, an enforcer, a damn good once. She would sniff out his lie with no hesitation.


    "Okay, fine. Damn it, you caught me. They''d stopped over here earlier."


    "Why?"


    "I don''t know¡ªit was unannounced."


    "What did you talk about?"


    "They asked about you guys and what you were doing."


    "What did you talk about?" Artemisia repeated.


    Tommy cleared his throat and carefully said, "The conflict."


    "The conflict? So, you ratted on us," Artemisia accused.


    Tommy swallowed once again. It sounded bad. He knew it did, but he had to look out for himself. ¡°Oh,c''mon, Artemisia. You know how they get. If I don¡¯t give them some answers, they¡¯re gonna send my ass right back to prison.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re admitting that you¡¯re a rat."


    ¡°No¡ª that ain¡¯t what I said. Look, all I did was give them what they wanted to hear. It didn¡¯t have to be completely true, just believable enough to get them off my causeandyours.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes, really,¡± Tommy said, knowing where this conversation was heading to, and not liking it one bit. He had to prove his loyalty or else he would become a goner. ¡°Artemisia, seriously, when have I ever done you wrong?¡±


    Artemisia thought for a moment. ¡°You have been good¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, I have,¡± Tommy said as she slowly rose from his seat. He wasn¡¯t planning to cut this meeting short, but he did have a casino to run. ¡°Now, is this meeting over because I gotta¡ªfucking hell!¡±


    ¡°Sit down,¡± Artemisia ordered through gritted teeth as she pulled the man back down by the end. She smirked when the casino owner yelped in agonizing pain. ¡°I didn¡¯t say we were done.¡±


    Tommy didn¡¯t think about disobeying, even while his hand was getting its life squeezed out of it. It didn¡¯t matter how he tried, he couldn¡¯t pay away from the woman¡¯s grip. Hell, he could barely move his arm. He just couldn¡¯t understand how this woman, such a small one, could harbor strength.


    ¡°Does that hurt?¡±


    Tommy nodded, biting down his bottom lip, attempting to hold back any screams.


    Artemisia¡¯s smirk grew as she tightened her grip. Her eyes glistened with mirth at the sight of the man¡¯s cracking and bending in such an unnatural manner. ¡°Good. Let it be known, Mr. Greco, that the pain you¡¯re experiencing now¡­¡± she trailed off as she watched, amused, Tommy struggling to get out of her grasp. She squeezed harder. ¡°Pales in comparison to the pain you will feel if we find out that you¡¯ve been avery bad boy. Do you understand?¡±


    Tommy nodded as tears formed at the corner of his eyes. He tried, with all his might, to quell any sounds of pain. He knew from experience how much the noises would only spur Artemisia on.


    ¡°I am glad we were able to have this conversation,¡± Artemisia said simply, finally letting the man¡¯s hand go. She snorted when the casino owner let out a sigh in relief. She rose from her seat and gathered her bag. ¡°Goodbye, Mister Greco, I hope you have a wonderful night. Remember, we have our eyes on you at all time, so please, do behave.¡±


    And with that, she left without another word.


    Tommy felt like he couldn¡¯t breathe until he watched Artemisia enter an unmarked car and sped away. He let out a breath, thanking every deity under the sun that he could live another day.


    ¡°Sadistic bitch¡­¡± he muttered, soothing his injured hand.

 January 23rd-January 25th

    January 23<sup>rd</sup>


    It was nine in the evening when Jackie arrived at her seventh crime scene of the week. This time, the action had occurred in an upscale northwestern Malikan City neighborhood, full of mini-mansions, and Bentley¡¯s. Upon her arrival, Jackie was bombarded the usual suspects¡ªcops and their cop cars, paramedic, crime scene investigators and of course, the media.


    She stopped to wave at an officer she recognized: Sergeant Joaquim Jackson, a rising star in the police department and Marcus¡¯ best friend. ¡°What do we have here, Sergeant Jackson?¡± She then asked, noticing that the paramedics were preparing to leave with empty stretches, indicating that whoever was left inside was dead.


    Joaquim approached the medical examiner, seemingly more frazzled than usual. The scene inside the house must have been unpleasant. ¡°Single homicide. White male,¡± he said, and then added. ¡°Edwin¡¯s on his way.¡±


    ¡°Terrific,¡± Jackie mumbled sarcastically, not about Edwin, but about the body. More work would be put on her plate, and she could barely up with the cadavers she already had in her lab freezer. She followed Joaquim into the home, greeting everyone she walked past until they reached the kitchen.


    Thankfully, the crime scene was nowhere as gory as the Suite Girl¡¯s, but it was hard to stand in an area where a murder had just occurred. She walked around the island to where Jackie suspected the bodies must be, judging by the numerous stringers of yellow caution tape around the area.


    Jackie¡¯s suspicions were correct.


    The cause of death didn¡¯t appear to be as gruesome as the Suite Girl¡¯s, but it didn¡¯t mean that Jackie wasn¡¯t disturbed by the sight of a youngish-looking man¡ª white male, bald, large build¡ªsprawled out on the floor.


    ¡°Only one?¡± She confirmed, pulling on her gloves as she stepped over the debris scattered on the floor. Broken plates and glasses. Utensils all over. It looked like there had been a struggle before the killing.


    ¡°One is enough.¡±


    Jackie stopped and turned around, noticing Detective Edwin Yuma, standing in the doorway with his partner, Detective Adam Parker. ¡°Good evening, Detective Yuma and Parker.¡±


    Parker waved.


    ¡°Dr. Farris,¡± Edwin acknowledged, approaching the medical examiner. He peered at the bodies and scrunched up his nose. ¡°Nice scene, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°One stake to the heart,¡± Jackie noted, pointing at the murder weapon. She had never seen anything like this before in person, only in movies. ¡°Isn¡¯t this some form of execution reserved for vampires?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but vampires don¡¯t exist. Maybe he was a part of a cult. People in cuts would do shit like that¡­¡± a standby office added, and then shut his mouth upon receiving a rather harsh glare from Edwin. He quickly apologized and wandered off to the other side of the room.


    ¡°What do you think, Ed?¡± Parker asked. ¡°A hit?¡±


    ¡°Looks like it,¡± Edwin replied, frowning.


    ¡°What¡¯s with the stakes, though?¡±


    Edwin didn¡¯t answer Parker. Instead, he turned around and ordered some officers to collect what they could.


    Jackie resumed her examination. Vampires don¡¯t exist, she quietly reminded herself. From what she could see, there were no other markings or bruises on the body. The state to the heart looked like the sole murder weapon. Vampires don¡¯t exist.


    ¡°By the end of the week, probably the next,¡± Jackie quickly replied, studying the stakes closely. She noticed that there were small pieces of garlic tied to a string that was wrapped around the bottom of the stake. Whoever did this must have been convinced that they were killing a vampire, as insane as that sounded.


    ¡°Can¡¯t be sooner?¡±


    ¡°Not unless you can convince City Hall to give me another medical examiner. Can¡¯t squeeze in anything until, at the earliest, Thursday.¡± Jackie shrugged. ¡°Anyway, from the looks at it, this seems to be a cut-and-dry murder. The stake was the murder weapon. The autopsy shouldn¡¯t be that hard.¡±


    Edwin didn¡¯t say anything else. He spent the next few minutes inspecting the crime scene before stopping just shy of a wallet on the floor. And opened wallet. He knelt down and studied it, immediately snapping his fingers at his partner to get his attention.¡±


    ¡°Lucien Dalca,¡± Edwin whispered to his partner when he arrived. He was loud enough for Jackie to hear, but didn¡¯t seem to care. He looked between the bodies and Lucien¡¯ ID. ¡°That¡¯s our victim.¡±


    ¡°Well, shit.¡±


    Jackie stopped everyone and peered up at the detectives, taken aback. Dalca¡ªthat was the name Marcus had mentioned when he had noticed the initials stamped on the Suite Girl¡¯s inner wrist. Jackie had heard of the Dalca family¡ªanyone who worked in the Malikan City justice system knew about the Dalca¡¯s¡ªbut she could have sworn that they had taken their business out of Malikan City years ago.


    She couldn¡¯t prove it at the moment, but Jackie knew there had to be a connection these murders and the Suite Girl¡¯s.


    ¡°Detective Yuma!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the issue, Dr. Farris?¡±


    ¡°I know this may sound crazy,¡± Jackie started, ¡°but you need to talk to Marcus and Teresa. I¡¯m sure you know what case they¡¯re on, and I think there may be a connection between that murder and these.¡±


    Edwin ran a hand down his face and loudly groaned. ¡°Teresa¡­ she doesn¡¯t want to have anything to do with me right now¡­¡±


    Jackie sighed. So the rumors were true after all. Edwin Yuma was caught in another woman in the very bed he shared with his wife, Teresa Yuma¡¯s bed. The fact that the police superintendent hadn¡¯t already issued an edict invoking an anti-fraternizing rule was quite surprising. ¡°Yeah, but the investi¡ªjust talk to Marcus.¡±


    ***


    January 27<sup>th</sup>


    The full examination into the death of Lucien Dalca began a few years after he had been found, as expected.


    Finding the cause of the man¡¯s death was important, but not a priority as per the Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Sayed Khan. He wasn¡¯t all over the news networks and newspapers like the Suite Girl was. The justice system, namely District Attorney Rubinstein, wasn¡¯t knocking on any doors, demanding any suspects.


    Lucien¡¯s autopsy wouldn¡¯t be threatened by an unknown assailant.


    Gus DuPont. What was Jackie thinking not notifying security or the police about the man¡¯s attentions? He had practically begged her to obstruct a major homicide case. That was cause for jail time¡ª


    She shook her head as she headed Vince pulled out the drawer containing Lucien. They had nothing on him; the only thing the examiners had received from the police concerning Lucien was radio silence.


    "Do you have the test results?" Jackie asked once she and Vince were able to transfer Lucien to the examination table. They had been able to get in a few tests when the man arrived to the morgue. It was nothing complex: just a blood and toxicology examination.


    Vince nodded and retrieved the reports from the desk. "Yeah, but we may have a problem. Both came out inconclusive."


    Jackie raised an eyebrow. An inconclusive toxicology she could understand, but, "The blood?"


    "Yeah..." Vince trailed of as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Here''s the thing, the man had blood in him, normal levels, but forensics couldn''t isolate anything. It''s like... the blood inside him, came from hundreds of people."


    "Excuse me?"


    ¡°Yeah, insane. I know¡­¡± Vince handed Jackie the report. "So, I have some theories about this. Theory number one: this guy died a while ago, body was preserved somehow and got filled with blood from other people. Theory number two¡ª¡°


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare say it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying,¡± Vince maintained. ¡°Also, there¡¯s something you may want to check out,¡± he added, walking up to Lucien and pulling back the white sheet, revealing a man who looked far different, and older than the man Jackie had seen in the kitchen that fateful day.


    Jackie took a couple of steps forward, stopped, and glanced between the body and her coworker. "How long has this guy been dead again?"


    "Technically speaking, a few days?"


    Jackie raised an eyebrow, puzzled beyond belief. The man was decomposing rapidly, which was bizarre since he had been kept inside a freezer ever since he had entered the morgue.


    Not only was he decomposing, but he was aging. His youthful, pale skin descended into wrinkles. Muscle definition was completely gone.


    She blinked and asked. "Are you this is him?"


    "Positive."


    "Okay..." Jackie mumbled, pulling on her gloves. She adjusted the overhead light and began her examination. She first leaned over and studied Lucien'' eyes. Black. The iris and the pupil were black. She retreated and checked his nose. No traces mucus found, only visible droplets of blood. She checked inside his mouth. Nothing but blood, mix of wet and dried up blood.


    ¡°Cut him open?¡±


    ¡°No, no need at this moment,¡± Jackie said, reaching for the plyers. She had to get that stake out. ¡°Only if Khan wants us to. This guy died from the stake to the heart. There¡¯s nothing else to examine. Thank goodness.¡±


    ¡°So, we have a name but nothing else.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. No definitive age. No place of birth. No documents,¡± Jackie muttered, leaning over Lucien to determine the best well to withdraw the wood without causing much damage. ¡°Someone must have a record on him somewhere.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Maybe he was an illegal alien?¡±


    ¡°Probably.¡±


    ¡°You need help.¡±


    ¡°That would be great, thank you.¡±


    Vince stood opposite to his coworker, watching her as she worked her away around the murder weapon. ¡°Is it safe to say that suicide had been ruled out?¡±


    ¡°Most likely.¡±


    Vince nodded and glanced down.


    ¡°A stake to the heart,¡± he remarked, accepting the plyers that Jackie handed to him. He had to give it a try. ¡°This screams vampire hunters.¡±


    Jackie groaned. ¡°For the last time, Vince. Vampires don¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say, Jackie, whatever you say.¡±


    ***


    "Good afternoon, folks. I hope you both had a wonderful lunch because I have some very bad news.¡±


    Dr. Sayed Khan, never the one to beat around the bush, announced as he entered the coroner''s lab. It was a quality that was a hit or miss with his staff, but he deemed it necessary. After all, he was the Chief Medical Examiner; stalling wouldn''t do anyone any good.


    "Good afternoon to you too, Dr. Khan," Jackie said, tossing aside her purse and shrugging off her job. Her lunch had been relaxing, save for spending ten minutes trying to convince Marcus not to worry about a particular late-night visit from a particular man some days back. "What happened now?"


    It would be nice to spend the rest of the workday drama-free. But that seemed to never happen in Malikan City. Jackie prepared for the worst but hoped for the relative best. She exchanged a look with Vince who only shrugged.


    "What happened was that as of eleven, forty-five this morning, someone somehow managed to convince the Honorable Judge Baxter to issue a TRO to prevent the Suite Girl''s autopsy from progressing any further."


    Jackie nearly dropped her third cup of hot coffee of the day.


    Whereas Vince''s jaw literally dropped.


    "He can do that?" he cried.


    "Evidently, so," Khan replied, handing the court notice to Jackie. "He''s the judge. He can almost do anything."


    Jackie placed her coffee on the nearest table, and quickly skimmed the document. It was a TRO, alright. A temporary restraining order barring the completion of a high-stakes autopsy. She never told she''d seen the day. It just wasn''t¡ªshe froze.


    Him, she realized. That asshole actually did it.


    Jackie cursed under her breath.


    "What did you say?"


    Jackie''s head snapped up at Vince''s question. She feigned ignorance and handed the document back to her supervisor. "What? I didn''t say anything."


    Vince was confused, but before he could say anything, Khan carried on. "I don''t think I need to tell you both how much we cannot let this case go cold¡ªDr. Tran, please get Rubinstein on the damn phone."


    "You got it, boss."


    Khan let out a deep breath. "Well, at least, the good news is that this is only a TRO. Nothing''s set in stone until the permanent injunction hearing. I''ll talk to Rubinstein about getting it thrown out," Khan told Jackie as Vince tried to get the assistant district attorney on the phone.


    "Sounds like a plan."


    "What is the status of Tomlinson''s autopsy, anyway?" Khan asked. "Do we have enough to work with the police?¡±


    "It''s actually almost done. We just have to figure out what type of poison or bacteria killed her."


    "You said that whatever it was entered her system through the bite, correct?"


    "Yes. The substance traveled through her blood stream, turning the blood solid which induced a powerful cardiac arrest. She died in seconds.¡±


    "Sounds like venom to me," Khan concluded. "Okay, so, at least we have that. We have the estimated time or death, the cause and an identity. It''s better than nothing."


    "When will TRO take effect?"


    "Firs thing tomorrow. Which gives us some time to run more tests. Try to do as much as you can before the morning."


    "Of course."


    "And before you leave, I need a same of Tomlinson''s blood, preferably around the bite. I know someone off-side who specializes in venom immunochemistry. I''ll see if he can find anything."


    "But wouldn''t that be in violation of the court order?"


    "Yes and no, but there''s nothing to worry about. The law always has loopholes.¡±


    ***


    At three-thirty in the afternoon, following a visit with the hotel staff at the Grand Marquis Hotel, Marcus and Teresa received a message from their captain, indicating that the FPB¡ªThe Federal Penal Bureau, the federal law enforcement agency, wanted to speak to them.


    Teresa didn¡¯t think it was a big deal. MPD and FPB had meetings with each other all the time. But Marcus was less than enthused.


    It wasn''t that Marcus didn''t like the FPB. He just didn''t trust them. He had discovered years ago that he would be perfectly content if someone assured him that he would never, ever have to interact with the bureau ever again. For the rest of his natural life. And if possible, the afterlife.


    ¡°Jesus Christ, Marcus. This is only a meeting, not an interrogation.¡±


    Marcus snorted as he drove his car into the parking space and turned off the engine. He took out the key and shoved it into his pocket. "Oh, it''s going to turn into one, just you watch."


    "You''re being dramatic."


    "I honestly don''t care at the moment."


    Teresa sighed as she unbuckled her seat belt. "At least, it''s not the CDA," she reasoned as she followed Marcus out the car and towards the precinct. She didn''t have anything personal against the agency, but they were known for giving people a hard time.


    "I don''t mind the CDA," Marcus insisted as he walked inside. He greeted some fellow officers as he headed to his captain''s office where they were to meet the federal agents. "They don''t bother me."


    ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re only here to ask some preliminary questions about the Suite Girl murder,¡± Teresa assured her partner. ¡°It happens all the time with major cases.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, like I said, that¡¯s how it starts, and then the next thing you know, they¡¯re taking over our investigation. And it¡¯s not like we can say no. We would get in trouble for obstruction.¡±


    Teresa rolled her eyes. ¡°Damn it, Marcus, can you please put your dislike for the FPB aside for the next thirty minutes?¡±


    ¡°Okay, fine.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Teresa stopped short of the captain¡¯s office and turned around, eyeing her partner. ¡°What¡¯s up with you and the FPB, anyway?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡±


    ¡°Resorting to Facebook lingo, are we?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    Teresa chuckled; she glad that she was about to make Marcus smile after he had been so grumpy during the entire ride to the precinct. ¡°It will be fine,Marky-Mark, I promise.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±


    ¡°Only if you stop throwing mini-tantrums like you¡¯re my niece. Who is four,¡± Teresa taunted. She chuckled when her partner sent her a half-heated glare. ¡°Promesa?¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll try my¡ª¡° Marcus stopped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Her personal phone, which he tended not to pay attention to during work hours, but he instantly recognized the personalized ringer as Jackie¡¯s. Given the events of the past couple of weeks, he couldn¡¯t afford to ignore her.


    Teresa watched Marcus as he stood in the middle of the hallway, staring at his phone with a deep frown. She could have sworn she even heard him growl. "What''s happening now?" she asked.


    Marcus didn''t immediately reply as he continued to read the message. He returned his phone to his front pocket, and said, ¡°Someone managed to get a damn TRO on the Suite Girl¡¯s autopsy.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Teresa nearly shouted. It didn''t make sense; the court was actually obstructing a murder investigation? That never happened. "Is that even allowed? I thought you couldn''t interfere with a murder victim''s autopsy? You know, for obvious reasons?"


    Marcus had thought so, too. It was nearly impossible. As far as he knew, the only people who could technically stop anything were the girl''s close relative. And as far as he knew, she didn¡¯t have any.


    No wonder the feds were here; they must have received a tip that this wasn''t a normal murder. Marcus grumbled¡ªwell, this was just great. Not only did he and Teresa have to deal with Tiffany and the mobs; now, they had to worry about potential corruption as well.


    "I can''t believe this shit," Marcus spat. "Who stops a goddamn autopsy for a murder¡ªoh, wonderful, another message¡­" Marcus trailed off as he pulled out his phone once again to read a new text, frowning even more, though he did look more surprised than upset.


    Teresa was starting to become very worried. "Marcus?"


    "So¡­" Marcus started after some moments of silence. "Hypothetically speaking, if we had to meet up with Edwin to discuss some matters, would you be up to it?"


    "What do you mean?" Teresa inquired slowly.


    "I know you two had your¡ª"


    "What''s going on, Marcus?"


    Marcus sighed and put away his phone. "He wants to talk."


    "Talk?" Teresa nearly choked out. She cursed to herself, realizing that she still couldn''t hear the man''s name without getting emotional. "About what?"


    "About our murder investigations. He''s handling the Dalca murder and thinks there may be a connection to the Suite Girl¡¯s."


    Teresa had a bad feeling about that. The Dalca¡¯s and the Atkin¡¯s were very close; if one family was involved in something, Teresa would bet her pension that there was a good chance that the other was not far behind. "Of course, there is."


    "We don''t have to¡ª" Marcus quickly corrected himself. "Youdon''t have to come. I know it''s a bit hostile between the two of you. I don''t want to put you in an uncomfortable position."


    "Marcus Robison, I''m a homicide detective. My job is inherently uncomfortable."


    "That''s not what I meant, and you know it."


    Teresa nodded. Yeah, she did. She tried to hide it, but she did feel uneasy about being around the other detective.Her husband. She didn''t want anything to do with him, but she was a professional and professionals handled any situations they had to encounter with sophistication, no matter how infuriating the people involved were. "It''s fine."


    Marcus didn''t seem convinced. "Are you¡­ sure?"


    "This is serious business, Marcus. I cannot jeopardize these investigations because of my personal reservations," Teresa explained, feeling proud of herself for being serious about not letting her feelings affect her work. It was a well-known weakness of hers. "Call him. Text him. Whatever, and let him know that we need to meet up later."


    ***


    "Detective Robinson and Detective Yuma, I¡¯m glad that you were able to come here at such short notice."


    "Captain," Marcus acknowledged.


    Teresa greeted her boss and followed him towards the direction of the conference room where she assumed the agents were. She occasionally stole glances at her partner, to make he was okay. This wasn''t the time for him to burst a vessel.


    Much to Teresa''s annoyance, Marcus''s sour mood had returned. "Do you have any idea what the feds want to talk about?" he asked the captain.


    The captain shrugged as he continued walking. "Your investigation into the death of Tiffany Tomlinson has captured some attention. The feds have reasons to believe that she had some association with the Atkin''s."


    Marcus and Teresa shared a concerned look.


    "Reasons? What reasons?" Marcus asked. "The investigation just started. We haven''t discovered anything concrete about the Atkin''s involvement."


    "You haven''t, but they did." The captain stopped in front of the meeting room. "The gang unit received some interesting information as well. They were the ones who called the FPB.¡±


    Teresa and Marcus shared a look. Manuel wasn''t the type to just call the feds over any little thing; he had his pride and reputation as a complete and total "badass" to protect. This must be big.


    "Are they taking over our investigation?" Teresa asked.


    The captain sighed. "I honestly don''t know, but I wouldn''t worry about it. I''ll make sure you''ll be able to do your jobs."


    ***


    "We understand that there has been a string of interesting murders occurring around here."


    Marcus didn''t want to answer any of the federal agents'' questions but judging from the looks his captain had been sending him for the past couple of minutes; he realized that he didn''t have a choice. "Welcome to Malikan City."


    Teresa nudged Marcus''s shin with her foot. She could tell that Agents Gillespie and Piazza didn''t find humor in Marcus''s sarcastic comment. She knew he didn''t like them, but they were still the feds. "What he means is that we completely agree with your sentiment. Being in this city, we''re used to murders, but not like these."


    "Yes, we''ve heard. That is why we are here," Gillespie said, opening the file with all the updated information. "Let''s talk about your investigation into the murder of Tiffany Tomlinson. How is it going? Do you have any leads or suspects?"


    "It''s still ongoing, but some progress has certainly been made," Teresa replied before Marcus could say another snarky remark.


    The detectives weren''t sure if they should mention the temporary injunction. During their drive to the precinct, they both agreed that if the agents didn''t bring it up, they wouldn''t either.


    "Glad to hear that," Agent Gillespie said. "Have you come across any information about Miss Tomlinson''s association with a particular organization?"


    "Not officially, Agent Gillespie," Teresa said, quickly glancing at Marcus. "We have some suspicions based on our conversation with the victim''s acquaintances. Why do you ask?"


    "We have reasons to believe that Miss Tomlinson was working for the Atkin and/or Dalca family in some capacity."


    The detectives shared a look; it appeared that their suspicions were founded after all. "Have you been keeping an eye on our investigation from the very beginning?" Marcus asked.


    "No," Agent Piazza replied. "We were simply monitoring the situation along the Wint/Malikan provincial border when we received the news of the murder. We initially assumed that it is just normal case, but then we heard about the deathof Ruslana Dalca''s relative. We all know that the Dalca''s and the Atkin''s are very close."


    Close wasn''t even the half of it, Marcus thought. The families had plans to officially combine forces and now¡ªMarcus''s eyes widened. It made sense. Everything just made sense.


    No wonder Edwin wanted to have a little chat.


    "I assume you are aware of the Atkin''s and the Dalca''s plan to combine their organizations, Detective Robinson," Agent Piazza said; he must have read Marcus''s face during his revelation. "That is why we are here. And for the Albanisi, who are most certainly not going to be happy about this move."


    "We don''t have enough evidence to make the Albanisi a suspect," Teresa admitted, though she knew that the group must have had something to with Sasha and her baby''s murders. "At least, not for Tiffany Tomlinson''s murder."


    "I''m sure you will soon," Gillespie said. "We wanted to talk to you both about what''s going on because chances are our investigations are going to cross paths. We won''t be actively involved in your murder case, but we will definitely be monitoring it."

 January 27th-January 30th

    January 27<sup>th</sup>


    January 29<sup>th</sup>.


    Two days before February. This would mark the seventh day Dr. Jacqueline Farris would have to make an appearance at the Office of the Medical Examiner on her scheduled day off.


    When she woke up that morning, a little before eight, Jackie was looking forward to spending her much-deserved free time without her non-City-employee friends, and doing some errands. It had been a rough couple of weeks, and she needed a break.


    But of course as she emerged from her shower, Jackie''s work phone had to ring. Again, and again.


    All calls were from Vince.


    Jackie could have simply ignored the calls and texts. After all, Vince was a fully-capable medical examiner¡ª but then the fifth consecutive call came though, and by then, Jackie knew she had no other choice but to respond.


    She had returned the calls, only to hear Vince sputtered out nonsense, clearly indicated that he was in the middle of a panic attack.


    Feeling obligated, Jackie had promised Vince she would be by his side within the hour. By nine, she was walking through the halls of the Office of the Medical Examiner and through the double doors leading to her lab, determined as ever to return to her cozy apartment as soon as possible.


    It was all wishful thinking. It was a fact that she had to accept the moment she entered the lab and saw Vince just standing there, in the middle of the room, frozen, not only moving or making a noise as his partner approached him. His only focus was the empty examining table before him.


    He must be in shock, Jackie concluded as she carefully walked around him.


    "Vince?"


    No response.


    "Vince, is everything okay?"


    ¡°He¡¯s gone¡­¡±


    Jackie stared at her friend, blinked and glanced around the lab to see if anything was out of place. Everything was normal except for the man standing several feet from her, now sobbing into his hands.


    ¡°I just went out on a breakfast break. I had checked on him right before I left, and he wasthere, and then I came back fifteen minutes ago, and he wasgone!¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Lucien Dalca!¡±


    ¡°Come again?¡±


    Instead of responding, Vince rushed towards the freezer and pulled out the drawer assigned to Lucien Dalca. Or what was left of him, which was nothing, much to Jackie''s absolute surprise.


    Jackie dropped her purse. "Uh, Vince?"


    "I¡ªI don''t know what happened," Vince choked out. "Is this a nightmare? Please tell this is a nightmare that I''m gonna wake up from in any second... I checked everywhere. I mean, it''s possible to put someone in the wrong drawer, right? Everyone makes mistakes. But it''s been so crazy around here that we don''t have any empty drawers left. So, I couldn''t have mixed him up with two of the others because we haven''t opened any other cases except for Tiffany¡¯s, who we can''t even work on. I don''t understand what''s going on!"


    This can''t be real, Jackie thought to herself. "Is this some kind of joke?"


    Vince shook his head. "I don''t¡ªthey''regone. I don''t where they are. The cameras didn''t catch anything. They were right in here before I went to lunch, and now they''re¡ªshit! Where can he be?¡±


    Jackie slowly brought her hand to her mouth when the gravity of the situation finally hit her, and breathed, horrified. ¡°This isn¡¯t a joke¡­¡±


    ¡°Like Hell it isn¡¯t!¡± Vince shouted, frantically pacing around the label, pulling on his short black hair. ¡°Jacks, we¡¯re gonna lose our jobs!¡±


    Jackie snapped out of her trance, approached her friend and pulled him into a hug before he induced a stroke. ¡°Vince, calm down,¡± she softly ordered. The man looked like he was about to burst into tears. ¡°Everything¡¯s going to be fine. The most important that is that you didn¡¯t get hurt¡ª¡°


    ¡°But the body!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll figure something out,¡± Jackie promised, although she didn¡¯t know how. In her experience, she had never encountered anything like this, and she couldn¡¯t recall being directed to follow a concrete procedure becausepeople didn¡¯t just steal bodies from a morgue. But she had to remain strong for Vince¡¯s sake. ¡°We¡¯re not going to lose our jobs.¡±


    ¡°Should we call the police?¡±


    "Yes, we should call the police," Jackie said, but then changed her mind. "No, no, we can''t call the police yet. We should¡ªwe need to tell Khan before we can do anything. He''ll know what to do."


    Vince took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, good idea. I''ll break the news to him--"


    "Don''t be silly, Vince. I''m not going to let you face our boss alone."


    ***


    "What do you mean, he¡¯s gone?¡±


    Jackie and Vince exchanged cautious glances and gulped. It was always a rare moment to see Khan, a rational, calm man, express his anger in such a manner.


    Being the brave one, Jackie decided to speak up. She had known Khan better and much longer than Vince, so there was a possibility that the man would go easy on her. ¡°Dr. Khan, um, the corpse of Lucien Dalca was placed in the assigned freezer, but it seems that, um¡­ he was taken without permission.¡±


    ¡°How the¡ª¡°


    Vince jumped in. ¡°We don¡¯t know. I had checked on him right before I went on break. I had made sure that everything was locked and secured¡ªyou can even ask security¡ªbut by the time I came back, he was gone.¡±


    "I already checked with security; they claim they didn''t see anything or anyone," Jackie quickly pointed out. "It''s obvious that the thieves hadstolen Lucienfor a nefarious reason. This was planned."


    ¡°Like this month couldn¡¯t get any worse,¡± Khan complained, pressing his fingers down on the bridge of his nose as he paced around his office.


    ¡°We should call the police,¡± Vince suggested.


    Jackie agreed.


    Khan stopped in his tracks. ¡°No, we shouldn¡¯t. At least, not yet. We can''t afford to get them involved because then the media is going to find out followed by the mayor''s office¡ªif we call the cops, we can kiss all of our careers and hard work goodbye. Not only are going to get fired and mostly likely be blackballed, we will be sued until kingdom come. The Dalca¡¯s have money, and people with money loved bring on lawsuits.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "Don''t you think we''re getting a little ahead of ourselves?" Jackie asked. "We can fix this."


    Khan finally sat down at his desk. ¡°Ya¡¯Allah, first Tiffany Tomlinson, and now this.¡± He sighed. ¡°My goodness, who did I manage to piss off¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure¡ªI don¡¯t mean to change the topic entirely, but do you know what¡¯s going on with Rubinstein? Was he able to change Baxter¡¯s mind?¡±


    Khan shook his head. ¡°Rubinstein has his hands tied. He tried talking some sense into Baxter yesterday, but he wouldn¡¯t budge. If Rubinstein wants anything to happen, he¡¯ll have to go to the higher courts or go to the mayor¡ªand no one wantsthat.¡±


    ¡°The police?¡± Jackie suggested, but Khan just gave her a long look. ¡°How about the feds? I know they¡¯ve heard about the Suite Girl case and are snooping around. Maybe if they find out that Baxter¡¯s obstructing that case, they can bring in a corruption case¡ªthat¡¯s in their jurisdiction, right?¡±


    Khan shook his head. Jackie''s idea sounded nice, if they were living in an ideal world, but they weren''t. "No, we don''t want any fed involvement. I''ll tell you what: I''ll talk to Rubinstein again. He''s the assistant district attorney. Maybe he can get the state attorney general on his side since it¡¯s obvious that Baxter isn¡¯t going to do a damn thing."


    "Yeah, good idea," Vince said.


    ***


    January 30<sup>th</sup>


    Another late night.


    Another murder scene.


    "Joaquim, you know I love you, but we really need to stop running into each other at crime scenes," Jackie said, exiting out of her car. She approached the cop after locking the doors.


    Joaquim let out a soft chuckle before offering to hold Jackie''s things; she allowed him. "You ain''t kidding. But look at the bright side, haven¡¯t seen any stakes or detached body parts involved."


    "Oh, thank goodness," Jackie said, then asked. "So, inside, what is it?" She reworded her question when the cop didn''t respond. "How bad is it?¡±


    Joaquim ran a hand down his face and yawned a few times before replying. "Sorry, had a long crazy night. I had to deal with a series of domestic disputes. And child protective services; the whole nine yards."


    Jackie knew exactly how he felt. "Don''t worry about it. Tell me, it is a normal crime scene or something out of Hostel?"


    Joaquim chuckled at the question before realizing that the doctor was not joking. "Sorry, uh... it looks like your old-fashion shooting. No forced entry. Not that much blood¡­"


    "Who''s assigned to this case?"


    "Edwin and Parker."


    "Another one?"


    Joaquim shrugged. "We''re pretty understaffed at our district."


    "Join the party," Jackie said, snorting. "Who¡¯s the victim?"


    "White male, mid to late twenties. Looked like could be model or actor. One bullet to the head."


    "Execution-style?"


    "Not exactly. It was a bullet to the temple, possible a suicide."


    "I see."


    Jackie stopped in front of the house and examined it. It looked condemned as if the entire structure could collapse the moment she stepped foot onto the porch steps. "Someone actually lives here?"


    "Lived. We did a quick check online about the owner," Joaquim said. "There''s hasn''t been an official one since ''73."


    "How is it still standing?"


    Joaquim shrugged and led Jackie into the house and straight to the "master bedroom"¡ªif Jackie could even call it that. It was dark. It was damp. It was cold. There was one mattress drenched in blood. The victim was lying on his side with a bullet wound to his left temple.


    Jackie put her gloves on and leaned over the body. "When did you get the call?"


    "Forty-five minutes ago. A person driving by reported hearing a gunshot."


    "Are you sure it''s that recent?"


    Joaquim nodded.


    Jackie shrugged. The man didn''t look like he had just died less than an hour ago; he looked like he had been deceased for the past few days. He looked so cold, so pale. Jackie lifted both eyelids and just stared. "White eyes? I don''t think these are contacts. But that doesn''t make any sense. People don''t have naturally white irises, right?"


    The color drained from Joaquim''s face as he gulped. "I have to look for Edwin," he abruptly announced before running away.


    Confused, Jackie watched the man rush out the room before turning back to the victim. She couldn''t explain Joaquim''s odd behavior; he acted like he had never seen a dead body before. Shaking her head, she continued to search all over the man''s body. It did look like a classic shooting.


    ***


    ¡°How the Hell did you guys manage to lose a dead body?¡±


    "We didn''tloseanything," Jackie clarified, not too thrilled with Edwin''s implication that she and her coworkers were incompetent. Overworked and severely underpaid, yes, but they were certainly not incompetent. "We were robbed¡ªGood evening, Detective Parker."


    Parker nodded. "Dr. Farris."


    ¡°Once again, who and why would anyone steal dead bodies?"


    "I don''t know. You tell me; you''re the one who deals with criminals on a daily basis, not me," Jackie said, becoming more irritated, not necessary at Edwin, but ateverything. "I''m just a medical examiner who can''t even do her damn job because of this mess."


    "I heard about the TRO," Parker added, shaking his head. "That''s messed up. Didn¡¯t even know that¡¯s allowed for major homicide cases."


    ¡°I rather not talk about that now,¡± Jackie said. "And enough about my missing corpse. We''ve got another murder victim." She pulled out her camera to take pictures of the body before putting it away so she could continue the examination. "The body count from the past couple of weeks is awfully high, don''t you think? It''s not even summer yet." Before Edwin could reply, Jackie changed the subject. "Have you talked to Marcus and Teresa yet?"


    Edwin nodded as he began to inspect the room. Parker followed suit. "Tomorrow morning, we''re going to have a little chat over breakfast."


    "Teresa''s coming?"


    Edwin turned to give Jackie an odd look. "Why wouldn''t she?"


    Jackie shrugged, deciding that this wasn''t the ideal place to discuss Edwin''s relationship issues. "No reason."


    Edwin didn''t look convinced, but he didn''t press further.


    "I was expecting more officers?" Jackie questioned out of the blue after a few seconds of silence. She had just noticed how quiet it was, a rarity at the scene of a crime or a suicide. It was very odd to only have a handful of cops at a potential murder scene. The EMT hadn''t even arrived yet. It was all very strange.


    "We''re pretty stretched thin, especially for overnight shifts," Edwin replied, stepping closer to the body. "One shot to the right temple..." He looked around. "Some discharged bullets... What do you think, Parker? Murder or suicide?"


    Parker shrugged and pulled out a notepad. "Could be either. No sign of forced entry. Neighbors said it was pretty quiet until they heard the gunshot. We haven''t found the murder weapon yet." He stopped to pick up a stray bullet with his gloved hand and examined it closely. It was an odd bullet; not like anything he nothing like had ever seen before. "This is interesting¡­"


    Edwin and Parker peered at it.


    "Tranquilizers?" Parker suggested, staring at the bullet in amazement. "But tranquilizers aren''t supposed to kill people. Sedate them, yes, but not kill."


    "Allergic reaction?" Joaquim offered.


    Jackie didn''t join the conversation, but she did inspect the bullet. She was nowhere near a ballistic expert, but after examining dozens of shooting victims, she knew a thing or two about bullets. "I don''t think those are tranquilizers¡­"


    "What do you mean?"


    "They look like actual bullets, but with blue¡­ light inside."


    "Light bullets?" Parker asked. "As in the light from the sun? How''s that even possible?"


    "Parker, do me a favor and arrange for the body to be picked up as soon as the CSI folks are done?"


    Parker bristled at Edwin''s order, but did what he was told.


    "They''re not here yet?"


    "I just contacted them fifteen minutes ago. They''ll be here soon. Maybe in ten."


    Jackie found that very interesting. Edwin had more or less demanded that Khan send Jackie to the crime scene as quickly as possible. That had been more than a half an hour ago, and she usually arrived after the EMT and CSI. Something wasn''t right. "I didn''t know ultra-light bullets were on the market."


    "Not officially, they are," Edwin said before ordering Joaquim to take one of the bullets with him. Yes, that would be considered tampering with the evidence, but Edwin had a bad feeling that he was going to have to break some serious laws with this assignment. "Jackie, how quickly do you get a court order to do an autopsy?"


    Jackie raised an eyebrow and checked to see if there were any cuts and bruises on the body. "It depends. If it''s a natural death or a suicide, we''re not ordered to perform one unless the family requests it. If it''s a murder, almost immediately; at times, within hours."


    "And who determines that?" Edwin asked. He had an idea about how the process worked, but he wanted to make sure before he made any rash decisions. "The potential cause of death?"


    "I do if Khan isn''t available. Which he isn''t tonight or tomorrow. He''s on extended sick leave. Before anything can begin, wehave to bring this body to the lab for identification. Nothing can really happen until we have some sort of idea who this person is."


    "There''s no need."


    "What are you talking about? We have to ID every person that''s in the morgue. It''s the law."


    "I mean, you won''t be able to find anything. He doesn''t exactly have an identity."


    "And you know thishow?"


    ¡°His name is Matthias, goes by Pretty Boy Matt. That¡¯s all I can tell you and that¡¯s all that¡¯s documented,¡± Edwin said evasively.


    ¡°Do you know where he¡¯s from?¡±


    ¡°Europe¡ªScotland, I think.¡±


    Jackie gave him a side-eye for his self-evident response. Joaquim tried to subdue his chuckle. "Thank you. That was very helpful."


    She opened the victim''s mouth and was surprised to see fangs. Actual fangs, like the ones she used to wear for Halloween, except they lookedreal. Jackie turned her attention to Joaquim, hoping to get an explanation out of him, but he only continued to search for more bullets.


    ¡°This scene is pretty cut and dry,¡± Edwin said. ¡°You can take the body to the morgue. I¡¯ll meet you there as soon as I can get out this place without causing havoc.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to¡ª¡°


    ¡°Oh, I think I do,¡± Edwin said, glimpsing at Pretty Boy Matt. ¡°We need to talk.¡±

 January 30th-January 31st

    January 30<sup>th</sup>


    "Do you know what Malikan stands for?"


    Jackie raised an eyebrow at the question. It was a simple one, nothing loaded, but it seemed out of place. Both she and Edwin were standing inside her lab, alone with the corpse of her newest corpse; the detective had indicated that he wanted "to talk;" Jackie assumed it would only be about it Matthias.


    "Sorry, I don''t," she quietly said, checking her wrist watch. Ten to midnight. She let out a tired sigh¡ªshe and Detective Edwin Yuma were the only ones in the west wing of the Office of the Medical Examiner, and two of the few remaining people throughout the entire building.


    Jackie hoped she wouldn''t have to stay long.


    "Devils."


    Jackie blinked. "Excuse me?"


    "Malikan. It comes from his long-extinct language. Don''t know much about the people, but Malikan was the name of the rulers of the underworld. A basket full of supernatural beings who ruled over the damned¡ªnaturally, the Malikan was defined as devils," Edwin calmly explained, pulling out a seat from under a stray desk and a cigarette. Smoking wasn''t allowed in the facility, but Jackie made no efforts to stop him.


    "Over the years, Malikan became less about religious folklore, and more about a way to describe the prowess of an army. See, people feared armies that boasted their... uh, ability to get things done. The founders of this great city we live in admired the name because it represented might. Military might. You know the docks downtown? Those used to house the largest colonial navy the world has ever seen..."


    Jackie nodded. She hadn''t expected to receive an etymology lesson from the detective. She realized what she could only do was listen; there was a reason behind Edwin''s monologue. "Thank you, but¡ª"


    "I think, during the past few decades, especially the past couple of weeks, the meaning of Malikan¡¯s returned to its roots. Devils." He scoffed, taking a drag. "Nothing but devils."


    "What are you¡ª"


    "That man on your examining table. Matthias. Pretty Boy Matt. You can''t rule his death as a homicide."


    Jackie glanced at the body bag containing Matthias. She shook her head.


    "What do you¡ª" Jackie stopped. "That was murder. The way the bullet entered his--"


    "Inconclusive," Edwin interjected, straightening up his posture. "You need to rule is as inconclusive. Or suicide. I don''t care, but it can''t be a homicide."


    "Edwin. Detective Yuma, you know I can''t do that," Jackie explained, although she shouldn''t have to. Edwin knew the rules; he had been in MPD long enough to know the rules. He had to know that she couldn''t just forge an autopsy report. That was downright unethical. That was downright illegal. "That''s perjury. I can lose my¡ª"


    "I''m not asking you to lie under oath."


    Jackie threw her arms up. "You practically are!"


    "I''m asking you to downplay any suspicions of a murder. Rule it inconclusive..."


    Jackie let out a humorless laugh. ¡°Oh, yeah, lying by omission. I''m sure the ethics committee wouldlovethat defense."


    ¡°Jackie¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who you think I am, but if you think that I¡¯m going to jeopardize my career over something so trivial, then you have another thing coming. Goodness, Edwin, are you hearing yourself?¡±


    "Oh, I hear myself quite clearly," Edwin defended through gritted teeth. He dropped his used-up cigarette onto the floor and crushed it under the toe of his boot. "Listen to me, Jackie. Do you think I want to do this shit? Do you think I like letting them run the streets? No, I do this because it''s my job to help keep the peace in this damn city.¡±


    ¡°Them? Who¡¯s them?¡±


    Edwin dropped and shook his head, mumbling under his breath. His frustration was growing; his patience was wearing thin. "If you rule this man''s death as a murder, you''re going to fuck up years of negotiations. Do you understand? Years. Years of trying to maintain peace."


    "What is so important about this guy?" Jackie asked. "He''s not even a goddamn boss."


    "Jackie, you got to work with me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it,¡± Jackie decided, crossing her arms. She couldn''t. She just couldn''t risk her reputation for Edwin, even if he was her sometimes-acquaintance. She wouldn''t live with herself.


    Edward fixed a cold gaze on Jackie as he shot up from his seat. He began pacing around, running a hand through his short black hair, grumbling under his breath.


    Jackie watched in amazement as the man''s demeanor shifted from annoyance to aggravation. She held her breaths as she heard the man''s breathing become heavy, his shoulders tense, his hands ghosting along his holster, his gun.


    She didn''t allow herself to think much of it. She remembered Teresa mentioning about her husband¡¯s temper during one of their rare, albeit short, conversation. Edwin was a good man, and even a better detective, Teresa had explained, but he had issues (but so does everyone else, Jackie thought).


    Jackie held her breath seconds later when Edwin stopped in his track, turned his body to her, and pulled out of his Glock-22, immediately aiming it straight at her.


    Nothing believing her eyes, Jackie took a couple of steps back, and swallowed. She wanted to running, but her legs couldn¡¯t allow her. In the back of her mind, she knew Edwin wouldn¡¯t harm her. After all, they were in her lab. They had security down the hall, and from the looks of it, the weapon didn¡¯t have a silencer.


    Edwin did not intend to pull the trigger. This wasn''t something he wanted to do. All he wanted was for Jackie to understand¡ªhe couldn''t let this woman, one who had been blind to the workings of this goddamn city for far too long, ruin everything. Jackie had to have her eyes opened; she needed an incentive to do his bidding. And this, what he was doing right at this moment, would be it.


    Jackie didn''t know how to react. In all of her years as a medical examiner, she never had a detective, a man she was supposed to be solving a crime with, pull a gun on her. And not only that, but also demand that she go against her morals, and lie and forged an official document so pertinent to her career.


    Maybe it was her own damn fault for being so naive.


    She took another step back, holding out both arms for hopeless protection. She looked passed the gun and straight into the detectives¡¯ eyes. "Edwin..." she breathed out.


    "Inconclusive!"


    ¡°Edwin, for fuck¡¯s sake, stop!¡±


    Edwin abruptly seemed out of his trance and dropped his arm. He glanced down at his gun loosely handing from his hand, and his eyes grew wide. He gulped, cursed under his breath and carefully returned the weapon to its rightful place. Shit, shit, shit, shit...This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Moments later, when he finally gathered enough courage, Edwin looked up at Jackie was still staring at him horrified, but surprised and confused. And sad--His gaze shifted to the titled-ground. "I¡ªI¡ª" he choked out; a million thoughts rushed through his mind, most of them apologies, but he couldn''t voice not one of them.


    "I gotta go," Edwin eventually said in a quiet, but frantic voice, quickly gathering things. For a moment, Jackie could see a glint of fear in his usual stony eyes. "I gotta go."


    Jackie did not move or utter another word, not even a sound, as the detective rushed out of the lab. She would only move when she could see the detective, through the small door window, enter the elevator, finally leaving her alone.


    Jackie gulped, took a step back, rubbed her hands and glanced around the lab, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say. Should she call someone? The police? 911? Should she reach out to Marcus? Or even Teresa? After all, she was Edwin''s wife. She should know about this¡ª


    She gulped again, and shook her head. No, she wasn''t going to tell anyone about this. She was going to make believe that the past several minutes simply didn''t happen.


    Jackie was going to move on and do the job the taxpayers were paying her salary for.


    ***


    January 31<sup>th</sup>


    "Can we talk?"


    Jackie nearly dropped her coffee all over her files when she recognized the loud voice at the door.


    She glanced up, eyes focused on the double doors that separate the lab from the outside world. And that he was, Detective Edwin Yuma, peering through the small door window.


    She didn''t move a muscle as she considered her options. She thought about calling security and have them drag the man off the premise. She thought about causing a scene, but of course, there was doubt lingering in the back of her mind, suggesting that she should just give the detective a chance to explain himself.


    Last night was bizarre.


    Jackie slowly rose from her seat and approached the double doors. She opened one of them, hand tightly around the knob, ready to slam it back in the detective''s face (and call security). "Morning," she curtly said.


    "Good morning," Edwin quietly greeted. His eyes were glued to the floor as he entered the room and walked the short distance to Jackie''s table. He sat down in front of the doctor, after the seat was offered.


    He spoke up when Jackie sat down. "There are no words¡ª"


    ¡°Can we just drop it,please, and get straight to business,¡± Jackie sharply replied, leaning against the back of her chair, staring at the man intently. She vowed to watch his every move. ¡°Detective Yuma, I have ten bodies in my lab that require an official cause of death by the end of the day. So, I don¡¯t much time to talk.¡±


    Edwin straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. He glanced up at Jackie¡ªhe knew he had fucked up last night. Jackie hadn¡¯t deserved his behavior, and he would understand one hundred percent if she told Khan that she refused to work with the detective any longer.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Now, that we have an understanding,¡± Jackie started off, putting on her lab coat and her gloves. ¡°It¡¯s obvious that you want to potentially sacrifice my career and reputation for you¡ª¡°


    "It''s not for¡ª"


    "I think I deserve the truth. And I don''t want any bullshit.Just the truth. So, Detective Yuma, do you mind tell what thefuckis going on?"


    Edwin swallowed and glanced behind him. "When is Vince coming back?"


    Jackie huffed. "He''s taking a late breakfast."


    Edwin nodded, stood up and approached Matthias who was still lying on the examining table, covered by a white sheet. Jackie carefully followed, maintaining her distance, keeping a keen eye on the man.


    Edwin peered down at Matthias'' corpse, an aging corpse. "So, that do age after death," he remarked, seemingly surprised. "Do you believe in the supernatural?" He asked when Jackie stood at the other side of Matthias.


    Jackie found the question foolish, but still chose to entertain it. "Like ghosts?"


    "That''s the paranormal. I''m talking about the supernatural: vampires, werewolves, witches and whatnot."


    "No," Jackie said, and then asked. "Should I?"


    Edwin didn''t immediately reply. Instead, he pointed at the gunshot wound in the victim''s temple. The bullet was still inside as evident by the faint light still emitting from the wound. "Pretty Boy Matt died from a shot to the head. From a bullet me of light¡ª they call it lucerns. The force of the bullet didn''t kill him, what was inside did."


    Jackie leaned over and studied the wound. That was something she had never seen before in her life, let alone her career. "Meaning?"


    "Whose weakness is light?" Edwin asked, and then answered before Jackie could open her mouth. "Vampires."


    ¡°Wha¡­?¡± Jackie drew in her breath and then held it. She breathed again, holding her hand to get chest, stepping away from Yuma and Matthias and proceeded to pace around. Her eyes grew wider as she began to digest the gravity of the situation.Vampires. Edwin was talking about goddamn vampires and he was dead serious.


    ¡°Jack¡ª¡°


    ¡°Are you telling me that he,¡± Jackie pointed at the body. ¡°Is avampire?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Jackie had to take a seat. After doing so, she stared at the top of the desk, full of files, and tests result as she began to accept the fact that Vince might have been right after all. She didn¡¯t fully believe Edwin¡ªthe whole thing surrounded so surreal, but the man wasn¡¯t known for his jokes.


    "Holy..." Jackie finally said. "How am I only finding out about this now?" She was the medical examiner, for goodness'' sakes. She examined the dead for a living; she worked with the police and the feds all the time. Perhaps this was something someone should have mentioned to her.


    "Their existence is supposed to be a secret, for obvious reasons," Edwin explained. "The government, certain police departments, and the feds had decided several decades that revealing their existence to the general public would be a threat to national security."


    ¡°So, they¡¯re living among us?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And people who killed Matthias, they¡¯re¡ª¡°


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why¡ª¡°


    "Pretty Boy Matt''s death cannot be ruled as a homicide. If it''s a homicide, we are obligated to investigate it thoroughly. To find suspects, bring them to court-- the whole nine yards," Edwin finished, and then added, "Look, all I''m asking you to do is to maintain what little peace we have left in this city. The fight between rivaling covens and whatnot have nothing to do with us. If those people want to kill each other off, then that''s their problem. Not ours."


    ¡°You¡¯re essentially endorsing a gang war.¡±


    ¡°They can fight their own battles without dragging all of Malikan City into it,¡± Edwin said. ¡°We have enough problems to worry about as it is.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re letting them get away with their crimes,¡± Jackie accused.


    Edwin didn¡¯t see it that way, but he couldn¡¯t blame the doctor for her opinion. This situation, it was complicated. Way above his pay grade. ¡°No, we¡¯re going to handle them. Just not in the normal way.¡±


    Jackie snorted. ¡°And what is that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nothing for you to worry about,¡± Edwin quickly said. This was once again above his pay grade and his jurisdiction. ¡°So, we got a deal?¡±


    ¡°Coercion is usually not involved in making deals,¡± Jackie spat, crossing her arms.


    ¡°I¡¯m not forcing you to do anything¡ª¡°


    ¡°So, what was last night about?¡±


    ¡°That¡ª¡° Edwin paused. There were no right words to make last night better. ¡°That was a stupid mistake.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, stupid...¡±


    Jackie retreated to gather her thoughts. What Edwin was suggesting was wrong. Insane, even. But vampires?


    She couldn''t believe that after everything she was considering Edwin''s request. It was a reckless plan that could end them all. But she had a sinking feeling that the police and others had their own set of rules on dealing with the supernatural, and she just needed to play along.


    "Damn it," she gritted out, and then, "Fine. I''ll see what I can do." She paused. Goodness, this decision was probably going to bite her in the ass. She could practically feel it, but didn''t know how. "But it''s your responsibility to make sure the crime scenes looks inconclusive. I suggest you should start by locating the murder weapon."


    "Already working on that."


    Jackie reluctantly nodded and adjusted the lamp so that the light shined brightly on Matthias. She checked his extremities, and stopped when she studied the man''s wrist. She raised an eyebrow. "This Pretty Boy-fella, was he suicidal?"


    Edwin shrugged. "I dunno. Didn''t know the man. Why do you ask?"


    Jackie returned the corpse''s arm to its side and directed the detective''s attention to the slashes inside of Matthias'' wrist. Multiple slashes with multiple stages of healing. A telltale sign of numerous suicide attempts or torture.


    Edwin stared at the wound, surprised. Generally, any wound a vampire endured (not caused by light) would have healed in no time. But the markings were very visible which only proved that they had been made while Matthias was still human.


    "Is that helpful?" Edwin asked.


    "It''s convenient," Jackie admitted. The single bullet to the temple and the slashes made the scheme a lot easier to execute. "I can point out that he had suicidal tendencies."


    "Which can close this case?"


    "Mayclose," Jackie stressed. "Whatever happens, you need to make sure this case doesn''t go to trial. And lawyers, under any circumstances, can''t be involved. I''m not in the mood to get convicted of perjury."


    Edwin nodded.


    "Is there anything else?" Jackie asked after a few moments of silence.


    "No, we''re good."


    "Good."


    Edwin shrugged, looked down at doctor and let out a tired sigh. "So, I guess I''ll be going. Have to meet up with Parker. You know, to solve our murders."


    "Good luck," Jackie said, letting out a soft scoff. She headed to the exit with Edwin following behind. She held a door opened as Edwin zipped up his jacket, and said in a flat voice, "It was nice clearing things up with you."


    Edwin nodded. ¡°Yeah, it was.¡±


    ¡°And Edwin?¡±


    Edwin stopped and faced the doctor. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°If you ever pull that stunt with me again, you will regret it,¡± Jackie warned. ¡°I may not be a cop, but I have my ways. Do you understand?¡±


    Edwin visibly swallowed. ¡°Yeah, of course. Jackie I¡¯m really¡ª¡±


    Jackie raised a hand, effectively cutting the detective off. "We''ll keep in touch. Have a nice day, Detective Yuma."


    "You as well, Dr. Farris."

 February 2nd

    February 2<sup>nd</sup>


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re out here in ten degree weather on a weeknight because of a tip from Tommy-freaking-Greco,¡± Teresa complained, adjusting the blanket around her to increase her body heat. ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s not messing with us? Because he¡¯s known for doing that.¡±


    ¡°Tommy may be a knucklehead with no self-preservation skills, but he has inside information,¡± Marcus reasoned, trying to ignore the cramps in her lips. He had been in a crouched-down position for the past hour, and his body was getting cranky. Teresa¡¯s complaints weren¡¯t helping the issue. Thankfully, Joaquim was still being a good sport. ¡°Plus, if we find out that he¡¯s been deceiving us, we will just show up at his place with an arrest warrant. I¡¯m sure Rubinstein would love seeing Tommy in a holding cell.¡±


    Rubinstein would probably find a way to get all three cops promoted, Teresa believed. The prosecutor had been after the business owner for at least five years, but Tommy Greco had a great lawyer and connections, he always found a way not to have his case go to trial. She was pretty sure Jenks kept a master list of all of the charges he wanted to slap on him when the occasion arrived.


    Although he was keeping his opinions to himself, Joaquim was also a bit skeptical about Tommy¡¯s intel. But that was most likely because it was almost eleven at night, and he was crammed inside a minivan with two other people, participating in a stake-out with the purpose of identify every people who walked in and out of Tommy¡¯s second business¡ªa small, upscale lounge. It wasn¡¯t official business; none of their captains knew about it.


    Tonight was the perfect night for a stake out: although it was freezing outside, the area around the lounge was relatively quiet. Mike''s usual non-mob- affiliated patrons weren''t there. Plus the lounge was located in an area in Malikan City with a few inhabitants; the residences congregated about a few blocks down from the place. There were no bus stops, or train stations, at this time of night, save for a couple of bars down the street; business was non-existent.


    The cops were parked about a block away from the bar, facing the front, spying through dark, tinted windows. They made sure to remain in the dark; the only things that were turned on were their phones (in their pockets with all ringtones silenced) and Teresa''s surveillance equipment (why she had surveillance equipment, Marcus and Joaquim were too scared to ask).


    "There''s Velasquez¡¯s people," Teresa announced, writing notes in her notepad. She knew most of the names of Velasquez¡¯s henchmen; she wanted to match the name with the person by taking a photo, but she was paranoid about being caught. Vampires could be extremely observant when they wanted to be.


    "Truck pulling in at eight o''clock," Marcus whispered. Soon, the detectives plus the sergeant looked on together as the vehicle stopped at the side of the casino and its crew started unloading the goods that suspiciously smelled like fresh blood. "That must be their stash. Quality human blood."


    Joaquim scrunched up his blood in disgust; the smell of such a vital liquid was overwhelming and not in the way he appreciated. After all these years, he still couldn¡¯t get over the fact that vampires only consumed blood. He watched as the gangsters opened the back door to the truck and pulled out three barrels and rolled them into the casino up a ramp. ¡°Where did they get so much blood? That had to belong to at least, a hundred people. From the hospital?¡±


    Marcus shrugged. ¡°Personally, I wouldn¡¯t trust any blood from the hospital. You don¡¯t if they¡¯re tainted with hepatitis or some other crazy virus.¡±


    ¡°They got it from Velasquez gang. They operate this whole underground business dedicated to shipping large quantities of human blood,¡± Teresa explained.


    ¡°But why humans?¡± Joaquim asked. ¡°Why not animals? Wouldn¡¯t that be easier? They could get away with it.¡±


    "They''re already getting away with it," Marcus mumbled under his breath. "Human blood is apparently a delicacy¡ªHey, Joaquim, got any updates on Edwin or Parker¡¯s cases?¡±


    Joaquim bit his lip. He hadn¡¯t had much of an opportunity to reach to Edwin. Edwin had been pretty evasive as of yet, but thankfully Parker had no qualms about telling Joaquim about the investigation. And so far, it wasn¡¯t going to great. The first one¡ªLucien Dalca¡ªwas on hold until his body was found, and the second one¡ªPretty Boy Matt¡ªwas also on hold because of a possible suicide.


    ¡°It¡¯s not looking good,¡± Joaquim admitted.


    ¡°They don¡¯t have any leads?¡±


    ¡°Parker said that he has a good idea of who did it, but didn¡¯t have the evidence. Not even enough to arrest someone.¡±


    ¡°What did Edwin say?¡±


    Joaquim shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s been acting odd lately. Thought it would be best to stay in the clear.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Teresa, what¡¯s up with him?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Your husband.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re no longer residing under the same roof,¡± Teresa grumbled. ¡°Therefore, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s up with him.¡±


    Marcus and Joaquim glanced at each other and silently agreed not to delve on the sensitive topic.


    ¡°What about Rubinstein?¡± Marcus asked, quickly changing the subject. ¡°There¡¯s no warrant for an arrest or anything?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s gonna pursue unless he has concrete evidence,¡± Joaquim said. ¡°That man has enough on his plate.¡±


    ¡°Edwin and Parker can find the evidence,¡± Teresa said. ¡°They just choose to ignore it.¡± She sighed. ¡°I wonder if Manuel¡¯s people knows about this?¡±


    ¡°Of course they do, but they can¡¯t do anything about it,¡± Marcus replied. ¡°You know they¡¯re bounded by the Pact.¡±


    The Pact. The covenant. The Deal¡ªa hundred-page plus document that contained some good old-fashioned bribery and back hand deals. All to keep the peace between the human and the supernatural world. The Pact of 1967 allowed the supernatural, particularly those in covens, to handle their business just as long as they didn¡¯t explicitly involve humans. It was a half-assed truce more than anything in Marcus¡¯ opinion, but it was going strong for fifty years so he couldn¡¯t say it wasn¡¯t working.


    Or maybe he could.


    ¡°Oh, and look who decided to show up?¡± Teresa announced. ¡°The Atkins and the Dalca¡¯s¡ªI guess Tommy knew what he was talking about all along.¡±


    ¡°Told ya.¡±


    ***


    There were times when Tommy Greco, the universal informant, wished he lived an honest life. Absent of drugs, alcohol, mobs, guns, and numerous run-ins with the cops.Just him working in a respectable profession, maybe with a wife and a couple of babies bouncing around. It had been a while since he had felt this way. He often considered the white picket fence life to be boring. He was a high-action kind of a guy; he loved living on the edge.


    But perhaps, one of these days, he should seriously think about settling down. Tommy knew that day was coming; he could feel it, especially tonight. Tonight, would be the best time to be stuck in the suburbs, getting ready for bed; then, he wouldn''t have to worry about the forty-odd people who lived on the opposite side of the law, squeezed into his lounge¡¯s private party room for the night.


    Tommy should have declined the request, especially with everything that was happening. The Albanisi was going to find out, if they hadn''t already, and they were going to demand an explanation from him, which he couldn''t exactly provide since he had promised the Dalca''s and the Atkins''s that he would keep his mouth shut.


    To top it off, he wasn''t even making that much money tonight. The party guests were not interesting in any of the drinks he had stocked. They were only consuming the concoctions that they had brought in that suspiciously resembled blood¡ªTommy refused to believe it was blood. He wanted the rumors to remain just that.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The party, intended by thirty or so people, was pretty uneventful for a change, and Tommy couldn''t complain. Uneventful meant that he didn''t have to worry about mob drama or the police, who were still breathing down his neck. He kept an eye out for the young lady wandering around the room. He had never seen her before, but someone here must know her; the party was invite-only. Despite this, she couldn''t hold anyone''s attention. She wasn''t really associated with the Dalca''s and the Atkins''. Tommy could tell by the way she awkwardly tried to spark a conversation, and nearly gagged at the sight of people digesting the blood-like liquid like it was water.


    Tommy had thought about approaching the woman. She seemed lost and to top it off, she was attractive. Maybe he could get a number out of her or, if he played his cards right, perhaps something more. But in the end, he didn''t pursue anything; something told him it wouldn''t be worth it.


    He shrugged and reminded the bartender to clean the counter. The last thing he needed was to explain to his patrons tomorrow why there was caked blood everywhere.


    When Tommy looked up again, he caught her staring at him with an unreadable expression. He thought about calling her over¡ªshe now had an expectant look on her face¡ªbut instead, he just waved. She waved back then went on her way. Towards Caesar, who, for the first time tonight, was sitting at the table alone.


    Tommy sighed.


    ***


    ¡°Good evening,¡±


    Tommy nearly dropped his glass of brandy when he noticed a young woman sitting in the stool next to him. It was the same one, from an hour ago. She looked tired, but she tried her best to hide it with a wide, toothy smile.


    Tommy raised an eyebrow, not understand exactly why she was grinning; he hadn¡¯t done anything¡ªMaybe she scored with Caesar?


    Which, to be honest, wasn''t something she should be smiling about. He shuddered just thinking about it.


    "Evening," Tommy muttered. "Enjoying yourself?"


    "I guess..." Sam said with a shrug. She turned around and watched as everyone was poured another glass of wine. It couldn''t be wine. It looked too thick to be red wine. She quickly turned around. "Are they... drinking blood?"


    "Careful, dearie, they can hear you." And to prove his point, a couple of guests glanced at Sam, judging her. "What the hell are you doing in a party like this?"


    Sam has taken back by the abrupt question; it was a question she had been asking herself for the past hour.


    She was supposed to attend this party with Tiffany. At first, Sam had considered not showing up, but then, a couple of days of ago, she recalled one of the last conversations she had with her roommate. The invitation had been hard to obtain, Tiffany had said. It wasn¡¯t something to miss. She was here because Tiffany had convinced the host of the part to put her on the list, only so Sam could see what Tiffany did on her free nights. She had always known Tiffany had been involved in an odd crowd; but this, she wasn¡¯t expecting.


    ¡°I needed to go somewhere. Get out. Tired of being home.¡± She glanced at the row of bottles, neatly lined behind the bar. She hoped to get the bartender¡¯s attention, but he didn¡¯t look her way. ¡°I need a shot of tequila.¡±


    Tommy laughed and shook his head. "Not around these people, you don''t," and then further explained when he was met with confused eyes. "These people ain¡¯t normal. Ain¡¯t Good Samaritans. It''s complicated¡ª How did you get an invite, anyway?"


    "My friend."


    "Friend?"


    Sam nodded."Yeah,my friend, Tiffany, invited me as a guest. She used to, um... work with, uh... them." She nudged her head in the Atkins¡¯ direction. ¡°I think?¡±


    Tommy looked at the family then back at Sam, absolutely stunned. "Holy shit. You mean that dead girl from at Millionaire¡¯s?¡±


    Sam nodded.


    Tommy raised both eyebrows. ¡°Oh, well, okay. So, that man whose lap you were sitting on, your friend worked for him. Inmanyways," Tommy said, and then added, "He seems interested in you."


    "Is that bad?" Sam asked.


    "Messing with married men generally is," Tommy replied, but then felt bad for making the poor girl so nervous. She honestly had no idea what she was doing. "But he''ll pay you well... enough."


    Sam gulped and began to sweat, realizing that perhaps she should have stayed home after all. "I''m not interested."


    "You sure?" Tommy asked. He chuckled when he received a heated glare. "I don''t think he took it that way. He''s interested in you and given that he''s, well...him, he''s gonna get what he wants."


    Sam felt sick. She wasn''t interesting in taking the next step with the man who called himself Caesar. She had just been flirting; it had been such a long time since she had done so. He was handsome and seemed pleasant enough, but that was all it was.


    Sam watched Tommy as he ordered a glass of water and handed it to her. She thanked him, and then quietly asked, ¡°What happened to her?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Tiffany. What happened to her?¡±


    Tommy sighed. ¡°It¡¯d be best if you didn¡¯t know the whole story. Don¡¯t want you to be in a deeper hole.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Your friend, Tiff¡ªFuck!¡±


    Tommy fell forward against the bar, hitting his head, from the force of the explosion. It was loud; it happened to quick, and for a moment, blacked out.


    He was able to regain conscious sometime later. He opened his eyes, staring down at the dark wood of the bar and closed them again, trying to alleviate the stinging in his ear. He groaned and covered his ears, hoping to silence the ringing in his ears. His mind was trying to wrap around what he just happened. He opened his eyes¡ªdestroyed, his entire lounge was destroyed. If it wasn¡¯t on fire, the furniture was obliterated into pieces. Smoke was everything. Everyone was slowly moving around, still dazed. It was bone-chilly. Tommy could feel the brisk air rushing through the missing, destroyed windows and doors.


    Tommy needed to get out of here. He carefully slumped off his stool and headed behind the bar, where it would be safer. He quickly glanced behind him and stopped breathing.


    Behind him, a masked army, about twenty-strong, dressed in all back stormed through the broken store front windows and thick smoke with their guns glazing at all of the guests. An unfamiliar voice from behind the army ordered everyone to stand down, but the order was ignored as all of the guests, including Caesar Atkins and Ruslana Dalca, drew out their own weapons, opening their mouths wide to reveal their long, sharp fangs.


    That was the sight that snapped Tommy out of his trance. Vampires. Fuck, they were real. He was seeing them with his own eyes. They weren¡¯t apart of some sick, kinky club or whatever. Vampires. He couldn¡¯t believe it; he couldn¡¯t accept it¡ªhe didn¡¯t have time to think about it for when he took another step, the shooting began.


    ¡°Get down!¡± Tommy shouted to anyone who happened to be near him; he wasn¡¯t going to check on anyone. He needed to come out of this ambush alive.


    The right thing to do was call 911, but the rational thing to do was not call anyone. Calling 911 meant that the cops would come and demanded an explanation from him about why he allowed a well-known crime family to party in his lounge. Calling 911 meant that he would most likely get arrested and head back to prison. He refused to do another prison stint; he would rather die.


    But then again, it wouldn¡¯t matter because thanks to the bomb and the gunshots, someone would have noticed already and someone would have called the authorities already. He was fucked either way¡ªJust fucking great.


    Tommy was on the move again, only to stop when he noticed the bartender, slumped on his side, ridden with bullets, dead. He swallowed, pushing down the urge to nauseate and quickly grabbed his Beretta from a drawer underneath the bar. He planned to bolt but then remembered that Sam was still here, crouching behind one of the bar, whimpering as the shooting continued.


    Tommy looked at her. He should leave her. After all, coming here was her own damn fault. He should just get out of here, take whatever money was in the register and in the safe, hop in his car and drive to goddamn Mexico.


    But unfortunately, Tommy had a conscience of some sort, but Sam remained on his mind. Despite her horrible judgement, she didn¡¯t exactly deserve to be in this mess. She was just a foolish girl who¡¯d thought it was a wonderful idea to get mixed up with a bunch of mobsters who all just happened to have fangs¡ªonce again, the hell?


    Tommy shook his head and finally came to a decision: he had to get Sam out of there before the situation became much worse. Fuck my life, he thought as he grudgingly when to retrieve Sam.


    Sam didn¡¯t fight him as he manhandled her through the tight crawlspace between the bar and the wall. She complied with his harsh order to her stay down and remain silent; she waited as Tommy opened the small floor door and only yelped when Tommy grabbed her own and practically pushed her door the hole. He quickly followed behind here before shutting the door after himself.


    For the next few moments, neither person said a word as they listened intently to the commotion above. Tommy could hear his furnishing being destroyed, slot machines being tossed around; he could hear the intruders painting the casino walls with bullets, the wails and screams, the shouting and another grenade setting off.


    He coughed as the thick smoke entered the crawl space. He turned to Sam who was on the floor in a fetal position, quietly crying. ¡°We can¡¯t stay here,¡± he whispered, wincing as the gunshots became louder.


    Tommy could tell the action had reached the bar area when he heard a loud thump from above, like someone had just been tossed onto the floor. He motioned Sam to follow into a dimly-lit tunnel, which she did, thankfully, without making a sound.


    Sometime later, Tommy stopped at the end of the tunnel, standing in front of the door that would lead them to freedom, to a dark alley. He pushed opened the usually jammed shot door, and took his a deep breath, thanking his lucky stars that no one had noticed them. He turned to Sam, who was still trembling, looking like she had been through Hell and back with her runny make up, dingy dress and missing stiletto.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    Sam nodded, eyes downcast, brimming with tears.


    Tommy grabbed Sam by the shoulders so that her attention was only him, not the floor. ¡°Listen to me very carefully,¡± he said. ¡°If anyone asks, you weren¡¯t here. You can¡¯t say you were him. You ain¡¯t seen or heard nothing.¡± He deeply exhaled. ¡°I¡¯ll think of an alibi.¡±


    He didn¡¯t have a choice. He knew if the cops found Sam and she talked, he was fucked for life. He knew that once the dust settled, he and Sam were going to be called in as witnesses. And chances were, a trail was going to happen, and he was to going to testify against mobsters. He wasn¡¯t suicidal.


    ¡°But what if the police¡ª¡°


    ¡°If you say one word, you¡¯re gonna get hunted down and suffer the same fate as your friend.¡± Tommy warned. ¡°Is that what you want?¡±


    Sam shook her head.


    ¡°Get a cab, and get the fuck out of here.¡± Tommy quickly reached into his pocket, pulled out a few bills and slapped them into Sam¡¯s trembling hands. ¡°Don¡¯t turn around. Don¡¯t look back. Don¡¯t fucking come back. Do you understand me?¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡°


    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, go!¡±


    <hr>


    END OF PART ONE

 January 16th-January 22nd

    PART TWO:


    DOMINO


    <hr>


    January 16<sup>th</sup>


    The plan had been simple.


    On January 15<sup>th</sup>, Tiffany Tomlinson, an eager quasi-associate of the Atkins,¡¯ was scheduled to participate in a highly-anticipated deal, retrieve the money, funnel it back to the Atkins, and get a three-grand advancement for her troubles.


    That had been all.


    The entire operation should have lasted for, tops, one hour. And then, Tiffany could spend the rest of her birthday in style, do some late light shopping on the famous Vinsk Avenue like she always had done. She could spend the night over at an exclusive Grand Marquis Hotel, fully paid in cash courtesy of Caesar.


    The plan called for Tiffany to return to her apartment in Parkena the following morning and proceed on with her normal routine. Go back to work at the diner. Attend classes. Hang out with friends¡ªher normal life. Maybe, a couple of days later, once everything calmed down, Tiffany would receive a nightly visit from Caesar. It would be a short one.


    Tiffany, under no circumstances, was supposed to be discovered in a Grand Marquis suite in pieces.


    Gus DuPont grimaced at the memory of that fateful night, of that next morning. To the very morning upon discovering the gruesome murder, and the loss of twenty large in cash and organs. To dealing with his boss¡¯ reactions. With everyone¡¯s reaction. To doing some damage control, dispatching associates to ensure that the cops were not on their trail. To persuading Caesar not to declare war on the Albanisi and the Mbassi until, at the very least, they receive sufficient intel. And even then, it wouldn¡¯t be worth it.


    It would never be worth it. Tiffany was only a mere human. The world would not and should not burn because of the death of a mortal.


    ¡°Yeah, try telling the boss that.¡±


    Gus glanced at his companion. Max Delhomme. Gus'' partner in crime and closest friend. In layman''s terms, Max was a part-time hit man, part-time head of security, full-time jokester. It depended on the situation and time period.


    Max was known to being a bit enthusiastic on the job, but all in all, he was a decent loyal man. He had been living on this Earth since the mid-nineteenth century like Gus.  Apparently, had been turned around the same time as Gus. Born in raised in New Orleans, like Gus¡ª perhaps, that was why the two men had gotten along so well from the very start, despite being from completely different backgrounds, races and social standing.  They both harbored more similarities than differences.


    Both men were guarding the sound-proof door leading into the "conference room" in the basement of an old brownstone Caesar had purchased under the table back in the seventies. The area was dark with only the street lights front the small, ground-level windows barely streaming through. And it was relatively quiet, save for the sound of a car passing bar or the occasional footsteps made by some guards around the staircase.


    The smell of old and damp dirt, furniture was relentless to the men''s enhanced sense of smell. It had been raining earlier causing some of the moisture to seep through the edges of the stone blocks and window panels.


    It wasn''t the most ideal place for two powerful bosses to speak, but then again, it was. No one would expect them there; the Atkins and their most valuable partner, the Dalca''s, hadn''t even known of its existence until the eighties. It had been sealed off for reasons unknown and Gus had a sinking feeling that it should stay that way.


    ¡°He¡¯s not going to do anything¡­¡± Gus said, and then trailed off, trying to find the right words. Caesar was a great boss, but he could be unpredictable. ¡°It would be too stupid. ¡°


    ¡°You do know why they¡¯re in there, right?¡±


    Gus cleared his throat, and glanced behind him.


    Caesar and Lucien had been in there for more than two hours already. Speaking about Lord knew what, but Max might be onto something. Neither would be able to find out unless their boss decided to spill the beans. The soundproof door and its adjacent wall were specially made to block voices from even the most sensitive of ears. It had been installed really to avoid spying from the other covens, werewolves and other creatures.


    ¡°They¡¯re not starting a war,¡± Gus assured, feeling hopeful. ¡°The boss isn¡¯t mad enough to start shit. Not for her. I think he¡¯s just a bit paranoid about the cops you know? It¡¯s understandable I guess. But I don¡¯t think there¡¯s much he needs to worry about. We didn¡¯t kill her.¡±


    "Does it matter?" Max asked, shaking his head and snorting. "Do you know what was inside her wrist?"


    Yeah, he did.  A tattoo with the Atkins and Dalca''s initials.  It had been bad idea last year, and it still was.


    "AD isn''t something to fret over..."


    Max rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Gus, you of all people should know that shit ain''t true."


    "I''m trying to remain positive, asshole."


    "No, you need to be realistic," Max argued. "Shit. We''re fucked. They''re gonna find out--"


    "Max, calm the fuck down," Gus said, nudging his friend''s side with an elbow. "None of us are going to get implicated for shit. We didn''t kill that girl."


    Max was far from convinced. "They said they found bite marks on her neck."


    "That was just a rumor."


    "No, that''s the truth. They even got pictures on the net," Max explained, and then added, "It''s not looking good, man. They''re gonna do an autopsy on her. We can''t let that happen."


    "For the last time, Max, we didn''t¡ª" Gus stopped, and stared up at the large man. He blinked twice and cleared his throat. Max was right. Max had been right all long. What was he thinking? He was supposed to be the strategic one of the family. He shouldn¡¯t have been so blind. "Fuck, we gotta stop that," he breathed, slapping his forehead. "Fuck."


    "See, what I saying?" Max shook his head. "Look, I know we have most of the police in our corner, kinda, but not the goddamn morgue. What if they find out?"


    "Then we''re fucked."


    "Yeah, and find ourselves spending the rest of our lives in fucking New Mexico, three miles deep."


    Gus wanted to tell his friend that he was worrying over nothing. But he had heard about that place in New Mexico. Horror stories. The only place in his country that apparently held the supernatural "accountable." A place that no one outside of selected few associated with the feds knew about.


    But he couldn''t spend the rest of his days worrying about getting caught. Especially for something he didn''t do.


    "We''re not going to New Mexico," Gus assured Max, patting him on the shoulder. "We''re not going because I have a plan."


    ¡°Oh yeah? And what is it, hotshot?¡±


    ¡°Stop the autopsy.¡±


    "And how you''re gonna do that?" Max asked, and then said, "The boss is already thinking about visiting the coroner. I got an ID. The name''s Dr. Jackie Farris. Black female. Medium height. Thirties maybe? She''s second in command."


    "To Dr. Khan?" Gus added, and then grinned. "You''re been doing your homework..."


    "Gotta, like I said the boss wants to... you know."


    Gus gave his friend a look. Oh, he knew, and he didn''t approve of the plan. He had never been a strong proponent of killing someone for strictly business just for the hell of it. Not if it wasn''t necessary. It was always too messy, always too unpredictable. He liked bargaining, extorting and compromising with people.


    According to many in the business, Gus played the game too safely. According to Gus, he was being smart and political; both traits necessary to survive this world.


    "Killing her won''t do anyone any good," Gus reasoned. Tiffany''s murder was a mistake because it got people''s attention. She was a human, female, who had everything going for her. Just like Jackie.


    Though it seemed that was where the comparisons ended.


    "If she works with us, then there''s nothing for her to worry about."


    Gus had to snort. "Yeah, right," and added, "Look, none of you guys got to get involved. I''ll talk to her. Let her know the gravity of the situation. I''m sure she''s a reasonable person."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "And what if she isn''t reasonable?"


    "I''ll deal with it." Gus stressed. "Listen, the last thing we need is another dead public servant. Got it?"


    "Got it."


    Their conversation ended the moment they heard the heavy door opened. The two men remained alert as the two bosses emerged from the room. Gus highly doubted that anything as absolved. He glanced back at Max who only shrugged and directed his attention to his boss. "Ready to go, boss?"


    Caesar nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Lucien remained silent as he put on his coat and leather gloves. He seemed more disturbed than Caesar, more resigned, nothing like his usual self. Gus knew Max had caught on to his boss'' demeanor. The man made a concerted effort to maintain his impassivity, but in his eyes, he was concerned.


    Gus wanted to ask the man if he was alright, but soon decided that it wouldn''t be in his place to do so. Yes, Lucien would soon be his brother-in-law. Yes, he had known the man for more than a century, but he was never close with him. Not many people were, outside of his wife, Ruslana.


    "I shall be departing," Lucien announced. He shared a knowing look with his guard before continuing on, "I will see you three tomorrow evening at sundown to discuss our upcoming actions further. As you know, if we''re going to do anything, we have to plan extensively."


    Gus and Max glanced at each other, trying not to convey their concern. So, Max had been right after all. The bosses wanted to attack, most like the Volturi, for Jessica''s death. Wonderful.


    "That we shall do," Caesar replied, also putting on his long, black wool coat. "That we shall do... I hope you have a nice rest of the night, Lucien, we¡¯re going to need your help."


    "You as well,¡± Lucien said before summoning his own guards and leaving the basement.


    No one said a word until Lucien left the building.


    ¡°So, I can assume that retaliation is on the table?¡± Gus carefully asked.


    Caesar''s eyebrows drew together, and then relaxed. "Ah, yes. We lost too much money to keep quiet. Too much blood. Too many organs. Staying quiet would only prove our weakness. But Like Lucien said, we''ll discuss this further tomorrow. Now, let''s go on a hunt. I am absolutely famished."


    Max suddenly looked alarmed. Gus did too, to a lesser extent; he didn''t think his boss would be that foolish to feed at this time. Not with Tiffany¡¯s death still on the news. The cops might make a connection.


    "I know we''ve received a new shipment of blood this afternoon," Gus offered, actually feeling a bit hungry himself. "Grade A."


    Caesar shook his head. "No, I need to feed." He scoffed at his subordinates. "On some animals out in the forest, unfortunately. I''m not dumb enough to go after humans. Let''s go."


    "As you command, boss."


    ***


    January 22<sup>nd</sup>


    Dr. Farris would prove not to be as cooperative as Gus would have wanted.


    He wasn''t mad about the turnout of that first meeting, taking place in during the afterhours of a weekday. A bit taken aback, considering it was usually hard for people, especially humans, to straight out deny his requests. But not mad.


    He respected the fact that Jackie stood her ground. It showed that she wasn''t pathetic, like Judge Baxter or the superintendent of MPD.


    But he still wished Jackie had said yes. Her denial certainly did not make his job easier.


    Then again, he realized later, it wasn''t the end of the world. The meeting hadn''t been completely futile. After all, the doctor had presented him with a better, legal way to subdue Tiffany''s autopsy.


    All he had to do was face the Malikan Court system, which was currently ruled by the Honorable Judge Baxter.


    He was known on the streets as "Windsor." A corny name in Gus'' opinion, especially since it was borrowed from a royal surname, but it was so fitting. The judge''s decisions, particularly the most controversial ones, moved along the wind. Just as long as the price was right.


    Gus had known Baxter for years, ever since the man became a judge about twenty years ago. They were infrequent associates; the conversations between them were always straight to the point and about business. Gus didn''t garner enough trust from the man to simply waltz into his office and make his demands. Well, he could, but that would only complicate matters with the police department. The judge''s seat was covered in the Covenant.


    So, he had to enlist in the help of another person: Adriana Dalca, Lucien''s sister-in-law. Gus'' fianc¨¦e¡ªthat wasn''t by choice.


    Gus liked Adriana because Adriana was smart; she was rational, and she fully understood the politics of the human and the supernatural world. Although her position in the family had never been finalized (it had been several centuries), everyone knew she was important. She was the advisor. The Gus DuPont to both Lucien and Ruslana Dalca.


    The one who made sure the matriarch of the family didn''t convince the patriarch to start another war. Lucien and Ruslana were hawks, always craving for their enemies¡¯ blood, usually resorting to drastic measures to get done¡ªAdriana would be the one to knock some sense into them, while still staying faithfully in her "lane."


    She was also close with the judge¡¯s inner circle.


    ***


    ¡°Wonderful night, isn¡¯t it?¡± Gus remarked, more as a conversation starter. Both he and Adriana had been strolling along the boardwalk overlooking Malikan Bay in comfortable silence for the past twenty minutes. Both had the rare opportunity of not being tied down to duties for the night.


    The couple was near the docks, and only several blocks from the Grand Marquis. It was peaceful night, brisk with a dose of light flurries. The atmosphere was quiet save for a distant chine of the bells and police sirens. The area was lit by the boardwalk lights and the moonlight.


    A full moon hung above in the dark sky. In most circumstances, especially back in the day, no vampire would dare to step outside. It was wise to avoid all were-creatures alike, with tendencies to be aggressively rabid, at all costs. But the Covenant and present-day social mores, the vampires'' anxieties slowly diminished to a point where just as long as they stay vigilant, they should be fine.


    Gus and Adriana were mostly alone. The cold had scared away the usual night runners, but the pair was not affected by the twenty-degree weather. They didn''t shiver from the cool air rolling off the waves or the flurries grazing along her faces and bare hands. They didn''t have to wear their coats, but they were out in public, and therefore had to play the part. Attracting attention would not be wise.


    ¡°Indeed. I miss simple nights like this,¡± Adriana said. She stopped in her tracks and took a moment to breath in the clean air and brushed her auburn hair away from her slightly tanned face; the wind was picking up again. ¡°The past couple of weeks have been nothing but chaos.¡±


    ¡°I have to agree with you.¡±


    ¡°All over a girl. A mortal. A human not worthy enough to become one of us.¡± Adriana shook her head. ¡°What was her name again? Tanya? Tara?¡±


    "Tiffany," Gus corrected, but he had an inkling that Adriana had already known that. She didn''t think much of Tiffany; not many people in the Atkins-Dalca circle did. "Tiffany Tomlinson."


    Tiffany Tomlinson. Like Adriana, he couldn¡¯t believe the family, both the Atkins and the Dalca¡¯s, were now dragged into this mess because of her. Involving humans in their operations was going blow up in their faces; he just knew it. He had always known it, but what he should have done? He might technically be second-in-command, but he was still subordinate. He had a code to follow.


    Caesar, for the most part, didn''t trust humans. Humans made things difficult; humans were difficult¡ªhe would often lecture to his lieutenants¡ªand most of all, they were weak. They didn''t have the strength and the speed of a vampire. They certainly didn''t have the virtual immortality. Humans would never be a part of the family, just loose (in every sense of the word) associates.


    But then Tiffany had come along, in her waitress getup, with that body, and suddenly all of Caesar¡¯s rationale had been seemingly tossed out of the window. Gus couldn''t help but shake his head at a distant memory. It had only been a few months ago when Caesar had confessed to his most trusted advisors that he had taken in Tiffany as his "thing." It had been about a year ago.


    Adriana nodded. "Ah, so that''s her name. The papers say that she was found in a hotel room, in pieces. They call her the Suite Girl..." she trailed off, giving Gus a pointed look. "I hope that wasn''t a part of the plan."


    Gus scowled. He had developed a phantom headache just thinking about that night. That girl. Her. "Of course, it wasn''t."


    Adriana let out a soft snort. "I figure that much," she said. "Tell me, my love: wasn''t someone supposed to be there with her? To make sure everything goes smoothly? Surely Caesar would never allow such a naive girl to participate in such matters alone."


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    "Did you talk to them?"


    "They''re conveniently inaccessible."


    ¡°Ah, won¡¯t you look at that? Hopefully, those fools are either dead or wise enough to keep quiet,¡± Adriana said, more amused than annoyed. "I suppose Caesar sent Max to fetch them?"


    ¡°He did.¡±


    ¡°I hope he finds them.¡±


    ¡°Oh, he will,¡± Gus assured, and then said abruptly, ¡°Adriana, dear, I need a favor.¡±


    ¡°Anything.¡±


    ¡°Are you still in cahoots with Windsor¡¯s people?¡±


    Adriana looked up at Gus, puzzled by the question. The families usually preferred to keep the courts out of their business. ¡°What if I am?¡±


    ¡°I need you to convince him to issue an injunction for an autopsy with no questions asked, and I need it to be issued today. Later this morning.¡±


    ¡°Autopsy? Oh goodness, for that girl?¡±


    Gus nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s not going to be easy,¡± Adriana warned. ¡°Especially within such a small time-frame. After all, it¡¯s already one in the morning. But besides that, that girl was murdered; her autopsy would have priority¡­ Gus, I don¡¯t understand: why go through all this trouble for an autopsy? The courts don¡¯t have to get involved. Didn¡¯t you talk to the medical examiner in charge of her body?¡±


    Gus bristled. ¡°I did, but apparently, she doesn¡¯t frighten easily.¡±


    Adriana raised an eyebrow, wondering if there was more to the story than Gus was letting on. The man was notorious for getting people to do his bidding without resorting to the usual tactics. He was a charmer. A generally well-tempered man who, thanks to his upbringing, knew a thing or two about behaving in a well-mannered fashion. He was known for getting things done. He never failed in the past, so why now?


    Adriana pursed her lips together, and then cleared her throat. "Human?"


    "Yes."


    "And you were still unable to convince her?"


    "Not all humans fear us," Gus reminded his fianc¨¦e. "Plus, it wasn''t I had broadcasted my¡­ condition. We''re supposed to be discreet, remember?"


    "A fact that I''m reminded of every day," Adriana curtly replied, and then stopped to take a drink from a tumbler in her hand. Heated blood. Fresh, delivered only a couple of days ago. It didn¡¯t need to be heated; Adriana couldn¡¯t feel it, but it was winter, and she thought it was fitting. It was a simple gesture that reminded her of her human, mortal days in the mountains of Romania. "If you want, I can get my people to bring this medical examiner to her senses. Lucien wouldn''t mind."


    Gus shook his head. Getting Lucien, or worse Ruslana, involved was the last thing he needed. The man, though the head of the Dalca family for hundreds of years, wasn''t exactly known for being coy or strategic. They couldn''t approach this matter involving the Suite Girl in the traditional way. Bloodless as possible was the preferred modus operandi.


    "That wouldn''t be necessary," Gus insisted. "Don''t worry about it. I can handle it."


    "Are you sure?" Adriana asked. She continued after receiving an affirmative nod. "Why are you so determined to get an injunction in the first place? It''s only a murder."


    Not to police, it wasn''t.


    "The nature of the murder is making headlines. This is a major homicide case, Adriana. If anyone finds out about how and why Tiffany died, our entire operation, our entire way of life, will go under."


    "Don''t you think you''re overreacting? We''ve been through tougher times and still come on top. One murder is not going to sink us,¡± Adriana. ¡°Especially one we didn¡¯t commit.¡±


    "My apologies, but I''d rather not have every goddamn law enforcement agency in this region harassing me. Us," Gus explained. "Or overzealous religious authorities chasing us around with goddamn stakes and strings of garlic, for that matter."


    Gus'' words did little to change Adriana''s sentiments, but she refrained from arguing about the matter any further. The man was determined, and a determined Gus was a stubborn one. Once his mind was made up, it was over. At the end, Adriana conceded to her fianc¨¦¡¯s wishes. "I cannot promise anything, but I will see what I can do."


    "Thank you.¡±